An Emperor's Song

by K.H. Grimoire

A new player in the game of thrones is introduced. But Perseus is more than just another Targaryen. He was a powerful warrior before he was even born in this world.

11. Chapter 11

An Emperor's Song

Disclaimer: I do not own PJO, GOT or ASOIAF. All character rights go to their respective owners. Also, some of the elements in this story are inspired by other published works. I do not take credit for any of it.

A/N: Firstly, I keep getting questions about dragons being introduced. And I just want to say that dragons will be introduced, just not now.

Next, I wanted to try something new in this chapter. Now you don't have to do this but I want readers to get more immersed into certain parts of the story as I often do. So at specific points in this chapter I'll put this: (OST Part 1) or (OST Part 2) into the chapter. It will then be up to you (the reader) to search up on any music platform these songs, 'The Child, Pt. 1 and The Child, Pt. 2 by Jed Kurzel', and listen to it as you read.

Again, this isn't something you need to do. I just want to let you all know what I listen to when writing certain scenes. I won't do it again if a lot of ppl don't like the intrusion.

So without further ado, let's jump back into the story. And as always, I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

Warning: Graphic and sexual content in this chapter. Read at your own discretion.

Chapter 11. The Viper Strikes

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Arc 1: Clash of Kings

299 AC

oOo

Highgarden, with Daenerys…

It had been almost three weeks since they came to Highgarden and Daenerys was bored out of her mind.

There was very little to do in the castle besides stare at roses or read whatever book the maester considered to be 'at her level'.

Daenerys huffed indignantly, remembering how the Tyrell's maester, Maester Lomys, acted when she asked him to lend her a few books to read.

Since everyone and their forefather knew that her family hadn't experienced the luxury of growing up wealthy like the Tyrell's, the old man had almost immediately assumed that she didn't know how to read.

The doubtful look Maester Lomys gave her when she told him that she could read made Daenerys want to scratch his eyes out.

The sound of a door opening and jovial whistling made Daenerys look up from the book she was reading.

Entering from the connecting bathing chamber, as naked as the day he was born, was a damp and steaming Perseus.

Her nephew sent her a glance of acknowledgment before walking to retrieve a thick piece of cloth to begin drying himself off.

For most nobles it would seem odd to reveal so much of oneself in front of someone, even if said person was family, but to Daenerys this had been the norm for her entire life.

Seeing each other bare was just one of the many things she and her family had gotten used to seeing during their years of exile in Essos.

Although unlike other times, as Daenerys watched her nephew carefully dry himself off, for whatever reason, the previous conversation she had with Missandei whilst on their journey to Highgarden came to the forefront of her mind.

Daenerys wasn't a complete novice when it came to the physical differences between men and women. She had been raised solely by men after all. But even though she had grown up in the custody of males, she had yet to know what a man's 'member' actually looked like.

And as of late, no matter how hard she tried not to think about it, Daenerys had become very curious about the topic. But right in front of her was the prime opportunity to make that curiosity go away.

It wasn't as if she was doing something wrong or perverted, right?

She was simply going to take a quick peek at the one part of her nephew that she had yet to familiarize herself with.

Eventually, Daenerys's curiosity got the better of her and she held her breath in suspense before slowly tracing her eyes downward to take in the well matured body in front of her.

Over the years, Perseus had dedicated a set amount of time and dedication toward transforming his body to be in the best shape it could possibly be. And by the gods did his hard work pay off.

His abdomen was split into six, rock-hard sections and two bulky muscles defined his chest wonderfully. Like the rest of his body, his arms and shoulders were lean and muscular. And although his arms weren't nearly as big as someone like Ser Duncan, she knew from her hellish tickling experiences that the strength those arms could produce was borderline unnatural.

Daenerys felt the sudden need to lick her lips but just barely refrained from doing so. Even disregarding his physique, she had no doubt in her mind that her handsome nephew was what every girl dreamed of marrying.

Her eyes gradually lowered until they finally stopped just below Perseus's waistline.

She remembered Missandei telling her that six inches was apparently the average for most men's members. And after briefly recalling the imagery of the girl's demonstration, Daenerys couldn't stop her eyes from widening a bit as she realized that her nephew was actually well ahead of the six-inch mark.

Nothing truly came to mind when drawing comparisons between Perseus's manhood and other objects. But if she had to choose something then she would say that it was somewhat similar to a sausage, only more...veiny.

In the midst of her bizarre fascination with the shaft of meat that hung almost menacingly in between his legs, she was barely able to notice that Perseus had just finished drying himself.

Daenerys hurriedly snapped her eyes to her book just as he turned to look at her. "What are you reading?" He asked her before he reached for a pair of fresh clothes.

"Hmm, what was that?" Daenerys looked up, innocently feigning a lack of awareness.

Perseus began to put on some trousers. "I asked what you were reading." He repeated.

"Oh. Just some history on the Reach. Nothing very interesting." As Perseus pulled a shirt over his head, Daenerys's eyes briefly flickered back to his now obscured groin.

If she looked hard enough, she could make out the faint outline of the serpent hidden within his pants. Daenerys quickly averted her eyes, her face felt like it was on fire.

"Are you alright? You look sick." Perseus shot her a concerned look.

"I-I'm fine." Daenerys nervously waved off his concerns.

Obviously unconvinced, Perseus hummed before walking over to sit on the bed next to her. A moment later, she instinctively jerked her head back when she felt his palm touch her forehead.

"What are you doing!" Daenerys exclaimed, panicked.

"I'm checking to see if you have a fever." Perseus told her simply before reaching out again.

Daenerys swatted his hand away. "You're immune to fire, flame brain! How could you possibly tell if I have a fever?" She shot at him.

She understood that she was having an overreaction, but at the moment she didn't care. Because the only thing she could currently think about was a certain part of Perseus that she had just bear witness to.

He stared at her for a moment, before speaking again. "Are you still angry about me not wanting to train you?" Perseus asked her.

While Daenerys was happy for the much needed diversion, the reminder of her failure to get Perseus to train her instantly made her scowl. "No." She replied curtly.

That was a lie, but she didn't want to argue about it anymore as any further debate would surely be pointless since he seemed serious about not teaching her. And when Perseus Targaryen truly didn't want to do something no one could tell him to do otherwise, not even her.

Perseus gave her a knowing look before simply saying. "Yes, you are." He stated.

"And what if I am!" Daenerys crossed her arm with a huff drawing a sigh from her nephew.

"Dany, I already told you it's too dangerous. You've seen what it's like to be in a life or death battle. Every fight can be your last." Perseus tells her.

"I already know that." Daenerys said, becoming increasingly annoyed.

"So why do you still want to fight?" Perseus threw up his hands in exasperation, "You could be focusing on other things. Sewing might be boring, but at least it doesn't have the risk of getting your head chopped off."

"I don't want to learn how to be a good trophy wife, I'd rather die!" Daenerys let out an exhale of breath before continuing in a calmer tone, "I'm not angry that you won't teach me how to wield a sword, Perseus. I'm angry that there's something I want to do and I can't do it simply because I was born a girl."

Her words gained a shocked look from Perseus. "That's not why…" His words of denial died before they could even finish leaving his lips.

Even Perseus couldn't deny the fact that the only reason she wasn't being allowed on the battlefield just like her brother was because she had been born with teats.

"History isn't kind to women, Perseus. There are less than a handful women throughout history that aren't labeled as either power hungry seductresses or love stricken fools. I'd rather not be counted among them." Daenerys tells him, "I want to be remembered for doing something great. For being someone great."

If they were tangible, Daenerys's aspirations would surely tower over all of Westeros. There were so many things that she wanted to do. She wanted to be an adventurer, a warrior, a poet, even a builder.

Anything that was within the general belief of what women were perceived to be abysmal at doing, Daenerys wanted to prove that she could do it better than any man.

And it may be her hubris talking, but she wholeheartedly believed that she could accomplish that goal if she was simply allowed to spread her wings.

Perseus sighed. "You put too much thought into what other people think about you." He said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

"We'll be ruling over them sooner or later. Won't their thoughts matter?" Daenerys smartly pointed out.

"No, they won't." The seriousness in Perseus's voice surprised her.

"So what if they think you're some airhead princess who doesn't understand what's going on around her or a fearless warrior who can't be defeated in battle. At the end of the day, you're still a princess and they'll always envy that fact so they'll say whatever they can to make you feel less than what you truly are."

"But this isn't just for them, it's for myself as well. I'm tired of feeling useless whenever there's a battle. I'm tired of feeling weak." Daenerys says, "Becoming a warrior is the easiest way to make that feeling go away."

"That's just your pride talking. There's nothing easy about becoming a warrior." Perseus tells her.

"Well, I won't know unless I try. Weren't you the one to teach me that?" Her reply was met with a frown from Perseus.

During her younger years and even though he was only a few years older than her, Perseus had almost been like a teacher to her.

He taught her a lot of things from knowing how to read to simple lessons about life. And while she never quite understood how he came to know the things he did, after he told her how one should always do what they can to help others, she never questioned his teachings.

But as of late, or rather after what happened in Lys, it seemed like Perseus was going back on everything he had taught her in the past.

He no longer cared about anything or anyone that didn't have familial ties to him. And his ideology had gone from helping others to isolating himself from others.

It was a startling change, one Daenerys believed that Perseus himself was slowly realizing.

Her nephew finally broke his long silence with a sigh, brushing his silver locks back with a hand before looking at her with a serious expression.

"Is this really something you want to do, Daenerys?" Perseus asked, immediately gaining a firm nod in reply, "Are you sure? Those who live by the sword usually die by it as well."

"I want to become a warrior." Daenerys said resolutely.

Perseus peered at her with an intensity that could make a lion cower, but she refused to submit.

She was Daenerys Stormborn, the rightful princess of the Seven Kingdoms and as one of the last living descendants of House Targaryen, an ancient and once-powerful noble house, the fearless blood of dragons ran through her veins.

There was no one in the Known World that could make her bend the knee, not even the gods themselves. So with that said, Daenerys returned Perseus's gaze with her own unwavering one.

After a long and tense moment, Perseus broke the stare down and his lips curved upward. "There she is. There's the fiery little girl I remember." At his pride-filled smile, an odd tingling formed in her belly.

"Alright then, I guess I'll have to teach you." Perseus shrugged simply.

"Wait…really?" Daenerys said, surprised.

"Even if I didn't train you myself, you would have just learned from someone else." Percy said dryly before standing up to make his way to the door. "We'll start tomorrow. Be ready."

"O-ok. Thank you, Perseus!" A still shocked Daenerys managed to stammer out.

Perseus looked over his shoulder with a sinister grin. "You won't be thanking me tomorrow." He said ominously before promptly leaving.

For a long while, Daenerys sat in bed silently dreading her nephew's words. While she most definitely wanted to become a warrior, she couldn't help but feel as if she had just made a really bad decision.

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oOo

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Meanwhile, with Percy…

As Percy wandered away from the castle, willfully ignoring the gazes of any passersby, his thoughts were on the discussion he had with Daenerys a while ago.

In regards to training, he had been wrong to not consider Daenerys's reasoning for wanting to wield a sword in the first place.

Percy knew that women in the world he was now in didn't have very many paths to take, nor did they have the freedom to do what they wished.

But just because other men only thought of women as caretakers and breeders didn't mean that Percy had to as well.

In fact, if there was any man who should have an open mind to the idea of a woman having the right to choose her own path in life it was him. Percy had, after all, experienced a modern age where women were able to do most, if not all, of the things that men did.

And though there was still the argument about the danger his aunt may face, Percy was a realist who understood that he couldn't always be there when she needed protection.

So in the long run, making certain that Daenerys could at least defend herself was better than simply hoping that no one would get past him.

But if Percy were being honest, what really sold him on the idea of training his aunt was the look of sheer determination and confidence on her face. It was as if the word 'fail' wasn't in her vocabulary.

Daenerys reminded him greatly of a certain someone he could barely think about without having a distinct pain develop in his chest.

After walking a good distance away from the main part of the castle, Percy eventually reached his destination. He briefly took in the sight of the large stable in front of him before walking inside.

Almost immediately, the familiar and pungent odor of ammonia and hay hit him clear in the face. It had been awhile since he had been inside of a horse stable.

The inside was expectantly large and spacious. And numerous wooden stalls were lined up symmetrically, each holding horses of various genders and colors.

"Perseus?" Someone called behind him.

Percy turned around to see none other than Willas Tyrell approaching from the far backside of the stable on the back of a horse, followed by an attendant who also sat on horseback.

"This is a welcome surprise. I don't know anyone other than myself that takes the time to visit the stables." Willas said, surprised.

"Horses are one of my favorite animals, so I couldn't exactly miss out on the chance to see them." Percy said as the man approached.

"But I sense that the horses aren't the only reason for your visit." Willas said with a knowing glint in his eyes, "Do you wish to speak with me about something?"

Percy nodded. "If you don't mind." He added.

"I always welcome a conversation." Willas smiled, "Though it'll have to be on horseback, if that's alright with you."

The Tyrell heir's attendant immediately dismounted and offered up his horse. It didn't take long for Percy to make up his mind and effortlessly mount the animal.

"Oho! I can already tell that you have a lot of experience in horse riding." Willas says, impressed, "Did someone teach you?"

"No. Maybe I'm just a natural." Percy replied as he began following Willas out of the stable and onto a lengthy field of grassland.

Percy raised an eyebrow when Willas began excessively chuckling. "Did I say something funny?" He asked the laughing man.

Willas shook his head. "Oh no, don't mind me. I was simply thinking about the time when your uncle, Oberyn, said the same thing to me at a tourney not too long ago." He explained.

"You've met my uncle?" Percy asked, intrigued.

"Of course I've met him. Oberyn is the one who did this after all." Willas gestured toward his injured right leg.

That bit of information made him pause. While Percy had never met his Dornish uncle, he was quite used to others taking out their grievances on him simply due to the past actions of his relatives.

Apparently Percy's change in demeanor was noted by the nobleman. "You needn't worry, Perseus. I hold no ill-will toward you or your uncle. In fact, I became good friends with Oberyn after our match. Some things are simply out of our control." Willas told him.

Percy nearly sighed in relief. If all of his efforts to get the Tyrell's to ally with him were thwarted due to an accident that happened years ago he would have been less than happy.

"What kind of man is my uncle?" Percy curiously asked, "I heard that he's a rebel but that's about it."

Willas barked out a laugh. "A rebel doesn't even begin to describe your uncle. Oberyn rebels at the idea of rebelling. In all my years I've never met anyone so unhindered by the happenings around them." He said with a reminiscing smile.

"It sounds like you almost admire him." Percy remarks.

"While I can't say that I admire him, I certainly respect him." Willas says truthfully, "When Prince Doran first became ill there were talks of Oberyn replacing him as the ruling prince of Dorne."

"And why didn't he?" Percy asked, curious.

"Many people think that Oberyn didn't want to shoulder the responsibility in fear of being labeled as an inept prince, but it was actually the opposite. Oberyn didn't want his older brother to be labeled as a disappointment, so he chose to be the rebel prince of his house." Willas explained.

Percy slowly absorbed that information. He never would have known that his uncle was the type of person to sacrifice his own future for the sake of his family.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I think you are somewhat similar to Oberyn. I can tell that you value family at the very least." Willas commented.

"That's true." Percy agreed before stating, "But you can say the same about most people."

"Well yes, I suppose most people do value their family." Willas mused.

Percy noted that the man seemed to not be referring to himself. "Aren't you the same?" He asked him.

"Hmm, not necessarily." Willas quickly added, "Don't mistake me for a heartless heathen. I do love my family dearly. But there are some things that I believe should be above family."

That information surprised Percy greatly. There weren't many people that would put something above their own flesh and blood. He was one of those people and he had initially thought that all Westerosi nobles would share his beliefs. Evidently though, his expectations had been a bit off the mark.

Unfortunately before he could dig deeper into the surprisingly intricate mind of Willas Tyrell, someone called out to them from the stables.

Willas spun his horse around. "Ah, it seems that my father has decided to join us on our ride." He said with an amused undertone.

Percy nearly clicked his tongue when he turned to see the plump and stout Mace Tyrell galloping toward them on his own fattened stallion. Though it seemed that he hadn't nearly hid his annoyance as well as he had thought as Willas's next words so it fit to surprise him.

"If you wish to speak with me away from prying ears then the door to my study will be open, but only for tonight. Come if you will." Without another word, Willas casually kicked his horse off into the direction of his father.

And as the heir of Highgarden rode to greet his lord-father, Percy couldn't help but come to the realization that there was much more to Willas then he had initially thought.

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oOo

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Just off of Fair Isle, with Oberyn Martell…

"I'll be old and grey by the time we get to the Iron Islands. Make us go faster before I throw you to the damn sea!" Oberyn Martell, the second prince of Dorne, shouted at the quartermaster from the deck of his ship.

"W-we're already going as fast as we can, my prince!" The quartermaster stammered back, making Oberyn click his tongue in annoyance.

While the flagship of the newly formed Nymerian Fleet and his personal ship, Elia's Vengeance, was a massive war galley with over one hundred oars and fully equipped with numerous siege weapons, as with most things, size did not equate to speed.

He along with the rest of the fleet had been at sea for almost a fortnight and they had just barely passed the Fair Isles that was near the Iron Islands.

If he were a patient person then he would have taken gratitude in the knowledge that the fleet was only a few hours away from reaching the outer isles of the Iron Islands. But anyone who had ever met him could say that Oberyn was not a very patient man.

"Aren't you already old and grey, daddy?" Tyene asked innocently from his side.

Already well used to his not-so-innocent daughter's well-hidden jabs, Oberyn barked out a laugh. "You mistake me for your uncle, little hatchling. Every woman I meet says I age like a fine wine." He boasted.

"The ones you pay to have sex with you at least." Nymeria remarked dryly.

As per-usual, a trio formed from his many bastard daughters (more famously known as the Sand Snakes) had accompanied him on his task to subjugate the ironborn.

"Look, I can start to see the Iron Islands!" Tyene exclaimed excitedly, nearly leaning halfway over the railing of the ship.

Off into the distance, Oberyn could also start to see the rocky outlines of the Iron Islands appearing from the fog that naturally shrouded it.

"There's ships approaching us as well." His stern daughter, Obara, commented.

Sure enough, there were at least two dozen longships fast approaching them. A significant amount, but nothing compared to Dorne's now two-hundred vessel strong fleet.

"They sent us a welcoming party! How nice of them." Oberyn smiled sinisterly at the incoming ships.

"Can I take some of them as prisoners, please daddy?" Tyene pleaded with him as if she were asking for a gift for her nameday.

"Of course you can, my sweet little hatchling." Oberyn fondly pinched his daughter's cheeks before turning to the quartermaster, "Full speed ahead! I want to ram these salt licking cunts right up the ass."

Oberyn quickly strode across the deck to retrieve his trusty spear, his daughters and men followed suit and equipped their own respective weapons.

The ironborn ships were now just a few klicks away and they had yet to slow down in their approach, proving how fearless they were on the sea.

Oberyn went to the foremast of the ship and quickly took command of the dozen surrounding archer's. "Archers, aim!" His command promptly made the men knock arrows and draw back their longbows.

The captain's of the other ships in the fleet had also long since noticed the ironborn's advance, and after seeing Oberyn do so, they too ordered their archers to take aim.

A mental countdown began in Oberyn's head as he impatiently waited for the longships to get within range of the archers.

While this was Oberyn's first time commanding such a large fleet, he had been in plenty of sea battles before so when the enemy longships came within a certain distance he ordered the archers to fire.

A countless volley of arrows soared over the waves, each arrow searching for a target to embed itself in. And while most of the arrows simply fell harmlessly into the sea, many found harbor inside the bodies of the ironborn.

If Oberyn could say one respectable thing about the ironborn, it was that they never showed a hint of hesitation during battle even as the bodies of their fellow islanders dropped dead next to them.

"They're trying to board the ship!" Obara yelled as the ironborn's ships finally reached their fleet.

Two longships immediately flanked either side of Elia's Vengeance. Soon after, ladders and hooks latched onto the sides of the ship allowing the ironborn to begin quickly and effortlessly boarding the flagship.

"Ready yourselves!" Oberyn shouted in command before he readied himself for combat.

The moment the first wave of ironborn crawled onto the deck, all hell broke loose. War cries and the clanging of dueling blades drowned out all noise, even the roiling sea.

Oberyn easily dispatched his first victim by spearing the man through his torso once he came within striking distance of his spear.

Ducking under a cutlass that had been aimed to take his head off, Oberyn used the shaft of his spear to sweep the attacker off of his feet before ending his life with a downward stab.

Sending a momentary glance toward his daughters who were some ways across the deck, Oberyn was relieved to see that the trio of sisters were working in tandem with one another.

His Sand Snakes ruthlessly picked apart any man that dared to approach them with teamwork forged from a lifetime of participating in joint battles.

The numerous corpses that laid littered on the ground around them were proof of their flawless efforts to repel the enemy.

Unsatisfied with his kill count only being at two, Oberyn ran straight into the next wave of ironborn.

As the battle progressed quickly, Oberyn demonstrated the reason why he had garnered the title, The Red Viper.

His movements were as swift and deadly as a snake. Each thrust of his spear would further drench his weapon with blood. And even if he didn't significantly wound his enemies, the venom that he always applied to his spearhead would see to it that a single scratch would soon prove fatal.

Finishing off his latest victim, Oberyn took the time to observe his surroundings. And sure enough, most of the ironborn fighters had either died, fled or been captured.

His Sand Snakes, while looking somewhat tired, were relatively unharmed. He couldn't help but pity the few prisoners that his daughter, Tyene, had begun to personally set aside for later use. Their fates would be far worse than death.

All around them the other ships within the Nymerian Fleet were also nearly finished repelling their own attackers. The battle was won, but Oberyn knew that there would be more battles to come.

"The ironborn are retreating, my prince." The quartermaster announced as he approached him, a bloodied sword in hand.

Oberyn hummed in acknowledgment of the man's words. "Tend to the wounded. We'll continue the attack once the fleet is re-organized." He commanded.

"And the prisoners?" The quartermaster asked.

"Kill the ones my daughter doesn't like. They served their purpose as a warm-up." Oberyn says coldly.

As the quartermaster left to do as commanded, Oberyn went to stand at the foremast of the ship. He intently peered at the black, rocky towers of Pyke that could be seen in the distance.

Soon, the Iron Islands would fall. And then Oberyn would finally be free to go to his nephew, Perseus.

He wondered what kind of person his sister's last child had grown up to be. Not that it necessarily mattered. Perseus, although a Targaryen, also came from his blood and family. He was the last link to his dearest sister, Elia.

In the days before her death, Oberyn made a promise to always protect his sister and her children. He then ended up failing to not only protect his sister, but his sweet niece, Rhaenys, as well.

"Never again." Oberyn swore to himself, his eyes filled with pure determination as his grip on his spear tightened.

He had made an everlasting promise, one that he would keep to his dying breath.

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oOo

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Back at Highgarden, with Margaery…

Somewhere in a secluded terrace within one of Highgarden's numerous gardens sat Margaery and her fellow noble ladies.

Though she had known them since childhood, Margaery couldn't genuinely think of the group of women around her as her 'friends'.

Each one of their families were among the Reach's most noble and wealthy houses. The same houses that would turn on Margaery's family in a heartbeat if it benefited them to do so.

She couldn't necessarily blame them, her own family had done the same and more to rise to the position they were currently at.

Still, if Margaery had to listen to them gossip about the latest nonsensical rumor for the umpteenth time she was going to pull her hair out.

"Did all of you hear what happened with Elinor?" Rosamund Ball asked aloud.

"Elinor from House Ashford? Didn't her father recently forbid her from leaving their castle?" Jeyne Beesbury inquired.

"Why would Lord Ashford do something so extreme?" Falia Flowers also spoke.

"Maybe he received a threat. Because of the war, a lot of nobles are being kidnapped for ransom now." Jeyne says.

"It's nothing serious like that but-" Rosamund dramatically looked around them before revealing, "-my mother told me that Elinor lost her maidenhead."

"By who?" Falia asked, surprised.

"A blacksmith's son. And apparently she's with child." Rosamund's words drew gasps from most of the women.

"She's pregnant with a commoner's child? No wonder Lord Ashford is keeping her locked away." Jeyne hid her amused smile behind a goblet of wine.

"That's so embarrassing. She should just get rid of it." Falia added before turning to Margaery, "What do you think about this, Margaery?"

Margaery resisted the urge to sigh. She had remained silent in hopes that they wouldn't bring her into the conversation.

"I wouldn't dream of dictating him, but I think Lord Ashford should simply gamble on the chance that she gives birth to a boy. You all know that Lady Ashford is unable to produce an heir. This could be a good opportunity for the Ashford line to continue." Margaery told them.

Her words drew contemplative frowns from the ladies. Their pea-sized brains that only thought about clothes and jewelry struggled to rationalize her solution.

"I never thought of it like that but I suppose that makes sense." Rosamund murmured.

"You're so clever, Margaery!" Falia said in awe.

"As expected of the daughter of House Tyrell." Jeyne also complimented.

Margaery refrained from rolling her eyes at their ass kissing and simply gave them a strained smile before her attention was garnered by the timely arrival of her grandmother.

"I had a feeling that if I followed the scent of perfume and wine I'd find you all here." Olenna snarked as she slowly approached with her cane.

"Lady Olenna." The three ladies each hurriedly greeted the oldest Tyrell simultaneously.

"Yes yes, greetings to you all. I'm sure you were all gossiping away, but I have to speak with my granddaughter about something important so run along now." Olenna nonchalantly dismissed the ladies.

It didn't take long for the women to say their goodbyes to Margaery. When Olenna Tyrell told someone to do something it was usually in that person's best interest to see it through.

"Good evening, grandmother." Margaery smiled at the old woman as she took one of the now vacant seats next to her.

"I suppose that will depend on your next words." Olenna says, "Did you do what I told you to do?"

It didn't take long for Margaery to realize what she was talking about. "I have." She replied simply.

"So the prince has been persuading his nephew to agree to our demands?" Olenna inquires.

"…not yet." Margaery said hesitantly.

Olenna paused at that. "What do you mean 'not yet'? It's been nearly a fortnight!" She asked incredulously.

"Viserys has been waiting for the right opportunity. And I can't just begin ordering him about so I've no choice but to wait as well." Margaery pointed out.

"Bah! He's no different from a dog. Just put your teats in front of his face and tell him what to do." Olenna said exasperatedly.

Margaery refrained from rolling her eyes. "That's what I've been doing, grandmother. But the prince isn't like every other man. He won't be pressured by my looks alone." She told her.

What Margaery didn't tell her grandmother was that she hadn't brought up any sort of marriage talk with Viserys. She hadn't felt the need to try and coerce the comical prince when she was genuinely starting to enjoy the time they spent together.

But this was obviously not something she would be sharing with Olenna. If her grandmother found out that she was allowing herself to be led astray from her task then she wouldn't hear the end of it.

"Bullshit." Olenna snorted in disbelief, "You just haven't been trying hard enough."

Annoyance sparked within Margaery. She knew better than anyone how overbearing her grandmother could be but at times it was too much for even her to bear.

Before when she had told Viserys how she was tired of following her grandmother's advice she had been lying. But every lie held a bit of truth.

"What exactly do you want me to do? Do you want me to just invite Viserys to my bed and give myself to him?" Margaery says in a sarcastic and biting tone.

"If you must." Olenna replied back, making Margaery's eyes widen in shock.

Even as a young child, Margaery knew to value herself if she wanted to one day marry. And though she was as beautiful and alluring as a rose, it was a commonly accepted truth that when a rose lost its petals it was no longer as enticing as it was originally.

And while Margaery genuinely had no problem with giving Viserys her maidenhood (she would most likely enjoy it if the gossip from the castle's maidservants was anything to go by) that was solely based on the very important condition that she was married to the prince before the deed was done.

Her grandmother was practically telling her to sacrifice her virtue for the mere chance that Viserys would side against his own blood.

It was such an outright outrageous solution that Margaery was having trouble even processing it, let alone agreeing to it.

However, before she could open her mouth to speak, Olenna spoke first. "Open your eyes, you silly little girl! Do you think this war will end with anything short of a massacre? The Targaryens didn't come to Westeros to make allies with all of their enemies. The only reason they're even here is because our family supported them during the rebellion. They wouldn't have bothered coming here if that weren't the case." The old woman angrily ranted.

Margaery absorbed her words with a frown. "But the Targaryens need us more than we need them." She says, eliciting a bark of dry laughter.

"If you genuinely think that the Targaryens need us to win this war then I've greatly misjudged in calling you my protégé." Olenna said seriously, "The Targaryens don't need us, Margaery. They could have marched onto King's Landing the day they crushed Renly's army and no one could have stopped them."

"Perhaps they were afraid that we would ally with the Lannister's if they did that." Margaery pointed out.

Olenna scoffed at that. "And leave our backs exposed to Dorne? We had much more to lose by joining the Lannister's then we did denying them. Your brother, Willas, understood this. That's why he sent that sly bastard, Littlefinger, back to King's Landing with his coin pouch between his arse." Her grandmother informs her.

"So what, this entire time we've simply been pretending to hold all of the cards?" Margaery asked incredulously.

"Bluffing is the best weapon one can have in any negotiation. We also don't have any important cards to play that can match theirs. They have that idiot boy, Loras, after all." Olenna grumbled before continuing, "But we no longer have the time to hold our bluff. The other houses are starting to move. That's why I need you to make the necessary sacrifice."

Unease still permeated in Margaery's gut. "…is there no other way?" She quietly asked in a last ditch effort.

Olenna shook her head. "In order for our family to survive what's to come, you need to be queen. There is no other way, Margaery." She said firmly.

Sometimes it was hard for Margaery to tell if her grandmother actually cared for her feelings and thoughts. Ever since Olenna had first taken interest in her as a child she had been taught to do whatever needed to further fuel the prosperity of House Tyrell.

After a long moment, Margaery simply nodded her head, gaining a satisfied smile from her grandmother.

No more words needed to be said. Margaery would do what she needed to in order to secure the future of her family. As she always did and as she would always be expected to do.

---

oOo

---

Nighttime at Dragonstone, with Melisandre…

Within the dragonglass halls of Dragonstone stood the beautiful and mysterious red priestess, Melisandre.

Her expression was mostly impassive as she listened to the rantings of her chosen one, only the slight crease in her brow made her inner annoyance noticeable.

"-and we've been sitting here for weeks twiddling our thumbs waiting for your god to answer your prayers!" Stannis seethed, pacing back in forth in front of the imposing dragon glass throne.

"The Lord of Light is not only my god, but the world's one true god." Melisandre reminded him.

"And yet your lord has been silent ever since we failed to recapture Storm's End from the Targaryens. It's almost as if he doesn't want me to claim the throne!" Stannis seethed.

Melisandre frowned at the man's words but stayed silent. She also didn't understand why her lord wasn't responding to her prayers. No matter how hard she prayed or whoever she sacrificed (be it man or woman), R'hllor remained eerily silent.

Stannis slumped down onto the rocky throne. "I've been barely holding together whatever semblance of order my army has, ever since the Targaryens imprisoned most of the Storm Lord's. But my men continue to grow restless. I need to act and I need to do it now." He said.

"My king, we should wait for-." Melisandre was abruptly cut off.

"I don't have the luxury of waiting any longer! I've already begun preparations. Soon my army will sail to King's Landing and help me take the Iron Throne. We will do this, with or without your god." Stannis's tone of finality gained yet another frown from the red priestess.

After a moment of silence, Melisandre spoke archly. "…as you wish, my king." She bowed her head before swiftly turning to leave the great hall.

As Melisandre practically glided through the castle's corridors, her silent fury made the lit wall torches on either side of her burn just a little brighter.

Ever since her failure to kill Perseus Targaryen, Stannis's faith in her and her abilities had lessened considerably. And with the righteous Ser Davos spouting his own simple minded beliefs in his ear, it wouldn't be long until Stannis disregarded her council entirely.

She needed the power to reignite her lord's faith in her. But in order for her to do that, she needed to reignite her own faith in the Lord of Light.

Entering her chambers, she closed the door behind her. The room was pitch dark but that was quickly amended when she willed the nearby fireplace to ignite.

Loud cries instantly erupted, breaking the silence that reigned just moment's before.

Laying in the corner of the room inside of a cradle was a child that looked to be barely a year old.

Melisandre strode over and carefully picked the naked babe up. After gently rocking and shushing the wailing infant, it's cries eventually ceased and she began slowly walking over to the nearby fireplace.

The red flames crackled and popped with excitement as she approached.

Red priestesses, such as herself, were known for being the devout followers of R'hllor. They traveled over Essos and the entire Known World in order to show the common folk miracles.

But what most people didn't know was that Melisandre and her fellow priestesses weren't only just followers of R'hllor, they acted as the gods conduit as well.

It was through them that R'hllor was able to use his divine powers in order to sway the masses. And every priestess knew that in order to remain a conduit they would have to remain in the Red God's good graces.

The best way to stay within their god's graces was by sacrificing a life in his name. Because while R'hllor was the god of fire, shadow and light, he was also the god of life.

And there was nothing more teeming with life than a child.

Melisandre lovingly kissed the forehead of the sleeping infant before bending down to carefully place the child in the roaring hearth.

While the flames did nothing but slightly tan her pale skin, the same couldn't be said for the child. Ghastly cries filled the room the moment the flames licked the babe's soft skin in greeting. It's pained wails, distorted by the flames, sounded almost demonic in nature.

It was unfortunate that such a deed had to be done to a child, but in order for Melisandre to finally reach her god's ears such an act needed to be done.

As the babe began being consumed by the hungry flames, Melisandre stood up and clasped her hands in prayer.

"Lead me from the darkness, O my Lord. Fill my heart with fire, so I may walk your shining path. R'hllor, you are the light in my eyes, the fire in my heart, the heat in my loins." As Melisandre spoke aloud everything seemed to deafen, only the rhythmic beating of her own heart like a steady drum could be heard.

Shadows materialized into figures and began dancing around the room and the fire. They began whispering things in her ears, telling her of events that were happening and those that had already happened.

The red flames turned bright orange, strengthened by the life force of the consumed child. It roared and whipped around the fireplace wildly, quickly filling the room with a sulfur-like smell.

And as Melisandre continued in her prayers so too did the shadows pray in tandem with her.

"Yours is the sun that warms my days, yours is the stars that guard me in the dark of night. Please guide me, O Lord. Reveal the path you have set before me, the path which leads to a destiny all will inevitably follow."

"For the night is dark and full of terrors."

Melisandre gasped at the sudden pulling sensation that overcame her consciousness. And as her consciousness was snatched away, her vision went dark.

(OST Part 1)

When Melisandre regained her senses, she instinctively knew that she was no longer in the material world. Or at least her mind wasn't.

Surprise came over Melisandre as took in the dark and familiar place known to her as the dreamscape.

Everywhere around her there were countless floating balls of light. She knew from experience that each of these lights held a different vision of the future, a different outcome.

But that wasn't what surprised her. What surprised her was the fact that one specific ball of light was very obviously quite larger than the rest. It glowed brighter than any light she had ever seen and emitted heat as hot as a sun.

Such a powerful and bright future went beyond the bounds of 'what if's', it was a future that was practically chained to fate itself. This was the absolute answer Melisandre had been seeking for these past few weeks.

The sheer radiance that the orb of light produced was addicting. Never before had she been exposed to such a powerful aura, the aura of divinity. And as she slowly reached out to touch the light, she was pulled into the vision within.

Melisandre suddenly found herself within a vast and dark hall. The surrounding rugged black walls were sculpted to look like dragon scales and oddly enough she could feel a warm heat emitting from it.

Banners showcasing the red and black three-headed dragon of House Targaryen and another gold and white sigil that she had never seen before hung from the ceiling.

Her attention was gained when a light erupted, giving her the ability to finally see the things in front of her more clearly.

Words couldn't describe the absolute shock that flooded into Melisandre's being as her eyes took in the scene in front of her.

Just a few feet ahead of her was the infamous chair that everyone in the Known World knew about, the Iron Throne.

And even more shockingly, the person that sat on the throne was not Stannis or Joffrey Baratheon, it wasn't even the least likely option of Balon Greyjoy.

Lounging lazily, as if born to do so, on the throne that symbolized the seat of power over each of the Seven Kingdoms was none other than Perseus Targaryen.

(OST Part 2)

The handsome young man was clad in extravagant robes of red, black and gold. Golden arm bracelets and other jewels further decorated his body. Around his mane of silver was a golden, ruby encrusted circlet.

Though his eyes glowed with a harsh heat, the smile that adorned Perseus's face showed his amusement at her shocked expression.

"Do you see your mistake now, child?" 'Perseus' spoke to her in a voice that was not his own.

Though it hurt her pride to admit that she had been wrong, the fact that her god was personally showing her this proved that she had been wrong.

Melisandre now understood that Stannis Baratheon was not the Azor Ahai. That role had been taken by another the very first day he had been born. Or perhaps even before that.

"Forgive me, R'hllor. For I have committed blasphemy in your name." Melisandre crumbled to the floor, tears running down her cheeks for the first time since she was a child.

For her entire life, Melisandre made it her mission to find R'hllor's chosen and help him combat the coming darkness. One could even describe her feelings toward the Azor Ahai as a lifelong obsession.

And now she was made aware of the fact that she not only wrongfully spouted about the reincarnation of the Azor Ahai, but that she had tried and almost killed the true chosen one.

A strong hand suddenly cupped Melisandre's chin, gently lifting her tearful face upward.

"There is no need for tears, child. I very well remember the trials you went through because I helped you through it all." 'Perseus' smiled down at her, "But now you must prove your faith to me once again. Go to Perseus. Guide him and serve him as you would serve me. For his fire comes from my own."

With each word spoken her eyes grew wider and the faith within her heart grew more and more passionate.

Up until now, Melisandre had been living a lie. Her purposeless existence had been a mere spark in the grand scheme of things.

But now she had been given a true purpose by R'hllor himself. And nothing would stop her from fulfilling that purpose.

An awe filled smile formed on Melisandre's lips as she zealously gazed up at the visage of Perseus Targaryen.

With angular and unblemished features that made it look as if he were perfectly chiseled from stone and flowing silver hair that framed his face like it was the finest artwork known to man, Melisandre couldn't help but question how she hadn't noticed the natural divinity of the Targaryen King the first time she had encountered him.

But that no longer mattered since no one would stop her from carrying out her new purpose. No one would stop her from serving a god in the flesh.

(OST End)

---

oOo

---

Highgarden, with Percy…

Percy casually walked out of the shadows to stand in front of the reinforced oak-wood door that led to Willas's study. Without a second thought, he knocked on the door.

An immediate and muffled response came from behind it. "You may enter." He promptly twisted the doorknob before entering through the doorway.

The inside, while quite larger than he expected, was what Percy assumed all study's to look like. There were numerous book shelves lined against the walls along with decorative artifacts, trinkets and antique furniture.

"Ah, Perseus. I almost thought you weren't going to come." Willas greeted him with his usual cordial smile from behind a desk.

"I didn't actually know where your study was so I went around in circles for a while." Percy chuckled as he approached the man.

"My apologies, I should have given you directions." Willas says sincerely, "But no matter, you're here nonetheless. Would you be so kind as to follow me?"

As Willas stood up from behind his desk and began leading him toward one side of the room, Percy noticed how the nobleman, though still using his cane, was not limping anymore. His strides were confident and regal, completely unlike his usual hesitant pace.

Since his earlier talk with the heir, Percy had come to realize that there was a lot more to the crippled noble than he had first thought. But it was now that he was finally able to grasp the true extent of his misconstruction.

Percy was led to a table situated next to a large and active fireplace. There were two grand chairs on opposite sides of the dark mahogany table and on the table was something that looked very familiar to him.

"Have you ever played cyvasse before?" Willas asked him, offering Percy a seat at one end of the table before taking the opposite seat.

"I haven't." Percy replied as he frowned at the board.

"Allow me to explain then." Willas smiled before happily going into his explanation.

It took only a few moments of Willas's explanation for Percy to realize why the game in front of him looked so recognizable.

Cyvasse, as the board game was called, held almost identical similarities to another board game from Percy's old world that was called chess.

Like chess, there were sixteen pieces in a game of cyvasse. Each cyvasse piece held the exact same functions as the functions of each of the pieces within chess.

The only real difference was the naming of the pieces/moves and they were as follows: 1-King, 1-Dragon [Queen], 2-Septons [Bishops], 2- Paladins [Knights], 2-Forts [Castles], 8-Rabble [Pawns]. To 'thwart' an opponent was to check them and the winner was decided when one side 'conquered' the other.

Percy looked up as Willas finished his explanation. "And I'm guessing you want me to play this game?" He asked, gaining a nod from the man.

"You can learn a lot about a man from the way he plays cyvasse." Willas says.

"So this is some sort of a test." Percy deduced.

"In a way, yes." Willas admitted truthfully, "The outcome of this game will determine whether or not an alliance can be made between my family and yours. Do you wish to play?"

Percy stared at the man for a moment. This wasn't the first time someone wanted him to play a game that would influence his life and the lives of those closest to him.

The game of chance that happened with his seer/brother, Phineas, during Percy's quest to rescue the god of death came to mind. But while he did end up coming out victorious in that exchange, it was solely based on the gamble he made for assuming his evil primordial great grandmother, Gaia, needed him alive.

Finally, Percy gave a shrug before gesturing toward the board. "After you." It wasn't like he wasn't already used to betting on his future anyway.

A satisfactory smile adorned the heir of Highgarden's lips before he made the first move by moving one of his rabble two spaces ahead. Percy responded by putting forth one of his own rabble to block Willas's.

The game quickly descended into a series of moves and thwarts, with both men repeatedly losing and then gaining the upper hand.

During the game, Percy sent out multiple silent 'thank yous' to Annabeth. If the daughter of wisdom and strategy hadn't forced him to be her training dummy whenever she wanted to try a new chess strategy, he would have lost the game a long time ago.

As Percy frowned deeply at a particularly perplexing move, Willas spoke for the first time since the start of the game.

"Are you sure you've never played this before? You are much better than most people I've played with." Willas complimented.

"I've never played cyvasse before, but thanks for the compliment I guess." Percy said absentmindedly as he struggled to find an answer to the predicament he was in.

Willas simply hummed in response before he waited patiently for Percy to make a move. Which he did after a long moment of thought.

"What are your plans after you take the Iron Throne?" Willas asked as the game continued amidst the nearing conversation.

Percy blinked at that sudden question. "My…plans?" He said, confused.

"Yes, your future plans for Westeros. If you wouldn't mind telling me of course." Willas added.

A prominent silence commenced as Percy thought about the man's inquiry. His current plan up until now had been quite simple. Reclaim the Iron Throne and destroy the houses that had sought to kill him and his family. He didn't really have the time to think about anything else.

Willas seemed to realize that Percy was at a loss for words. "Allow me to pose another question then. What was your reason for coming to Westeros and staking your claim to the throne?" He asked.

This question was much easier to answer. "I didn't want my family to live in fear of Robert Baratheon anymore." He told him.

"But Robert Baratheon is now dead." Willas remarked.

"His children are still alive and the Lannister's won't let us live peacefully. As long as me and my family draw breath they will never see us as anything other than a loose end." Percy pointed out.

Willas nodded. "That much is true. So the reason you came to Westeros was to topple the Lannister regime?" He says though he was briefly surprised when Percy shook his head.

"Not just the Lannister's, but every other house that stood by their side and supported me and my family being hunted across Essos. I'll personally see to it that their castles are burned to the ground." Percy promised.

"What about after your revenge? What about the lives of the countless other smallfolk in Westeros?" Willas inquired.

Percy shrugged. "What about them? They'll keep on living the lives they've been living." He said simply, making Willas's gaze shift.

"Do you not wish for them to have a better life as you wish for yourself and your family?" Willas asks.

"I hope they'll have a better life under my rule, but my focus will always be on my family first and foremost." Percy says truthfully.

Willas stared at him for a moment before leaning back in his chair. "Though that is respectable, I can't help but feel…disappointed." He sighed deeply.

Percy raised an eyebrow. "Am I wrong for wanting to put my own family's well-being before others? Wouldn't you do the same?" He asked him.

"I will always protect my family, but some things are simply more important than family." Willas looked to the fireplace next to them.

"Some things like what?" Percy inquired.

"Dreams." Willas replied quietly, his gaze, while directed at the orange flames, seemed to look past them.

"…dreams." Percy repeated in confusion though he was ignored.

"Everyone thinks I'm incompetent because I spend the majority of my time in the stables. But I've learned quite a lot by studying horses. And even though they're beasts, they really aren't that different from us." Willas rants aloud.

"Haven't you ever thought about why Westeros experiences so many regime changes?" Willas asks Percy, gaining a negative reply.

"In just the past twenty years we've seen more wars than the whole of Essos combined. Do you know why that is? It's because our lands are divided with no stable power that can stop people from acting like animals. There is no real hierarchy in Westeros, no real order. There is only the illusion of it." Willas starts.

Percy couldn't help but silently agree with his assessment. Westeros was not an orderly place, it was inherently chaotic and it's so-called leaders thrived on that chaos.

"I dream of a kingdom that embodies order and stability. A kingdom where the smallfolk proudly call themselves Westerosi instead of Reachmen or Northernmen. A place where there are not seven kingdoms, but one. A unified Westeros where the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. " Willas said earnestly.

There was a surprising amount of sincerity in Willas's voice. The nobleman truly considered not just the Reach but Westeros as a whole to be his home.

In this world, there wasn't yet a word to describe one's love for their nation. But if Percy were to use a word from his old world to describe Willas's ideology it would be patriotic.

Hearing Willas's dreams made Percy remember the notion he had accepted not too long ago. The notion that the system Westeros currently found itself under needed to be dismantled entirely.

The correlation between Percy's mission of destroying the current Westeros and Willas's dream of seeing a better version of it was too similar for him to simply ignore.

There was a word for things that went beyond coincidence and mere chance. It was called fate. And if Percy knew one thing about fate it's that it was often better for one to use fate to their advantage than simply letting it run its course.

Percy picked up his black dragon cyvasse piece and began twirling it in his fingers as he spoke directly to Willas who was still staring off into the flames. "Do you want to see your vision of a better Westeros come to life?" He asked the man.

Willas finally looked away from the fireplace and at Percy. "Any man would want to see his dreams come to fruition." He said bluntly.

"What are you willing to do in order to make it happen?" Percy asks next.

"I may be the heir of Highgarden, but I have neither the power nor claim to become king." Willas says.

"I didn't ask you that. I said, what are you willing to do in order to make your dream happen?" Percy repeated.

A frown marred Willas's brow as he briefly thought about the question. "I am willing to do whatever I need to do." He said with firm resolve.

"Then ally with me and I will help you achieve your goal." Percy offered simply.

Willas blinked before responding. "You wish to destroy the very place I hope to change." He pointed out.

"A friend of mine once told me that the greatest instrument of change is destruction." Percy says, "Who's to say that Westeros can't be rebuilt after it's been destroyed?"

His words made Willas frown in deep thought. While the Tyrell's good intent was definitely there, there was simply no way for Westeros to be made anew without discarding all of the things that made it old and stagnant.

This was something Percy had long since realized even before he stepped foot on Westerosi soil. And now it was something Willas would have to realize and come to terms with.

After a long moment of internal debate, Willas finally spoke again. "And how exactly would we be able to do this? Because if we do, then we'll potentially be going up against every single house in Westeros that doesn't want to see change. My family's resources are plentiful, but they aren't endless. And your family no longer has it's infamous dragons."

"That's where you're wrong, Willas. My family doesn't just breed kings, but dragons as well." Percy flicked his dragon piece into the air, catching it as it fell back down before placing it in front of Willas's king.

Willas realized with some shock that he had just been 'conquered' and he was further shocked when he looked up to see Percy's eyes which now glowed a fiery red.

"I happen to be both." Percy grinned, his eyes glinting menacingly.

As stunned silence reigned, the only thing that could be heard was the loud crackling of the fireplace. It was as if the flames themselves were laughing.

---

oOo

---

Meanwhile, with Viserys…

Viserys collapsed onto his bed with a downtrodden sigh.

Usually there would've been some plain but fuckable maidservant to accompany him on the feather filled mattress, but unfortunately for the past two weeks he had been denied his usual bed partners.

He silently cursed his nephew. If Perseus finally approached the Tyrell heir, Willas, and stopped beating around the bush then he wouldn't have needed to suppress his earthly desires for the sake of misleading Margaery for the past fortnight.

Thoughts of the beauty of House Tyrell made Viserys frown. While it would have been particularly entertaining to watch the noblewoman do everything short of offering up her body in hopes that he would soon confront Perseus, Margaery had yet to actually confront him about his promise to change his nephew's mind.

The noblewoman seemed almost content with simply touring the castle with him and trading various stories from their childhood.

Viserys blinked at the ceiling when an almost faint knock suddenly came from his door. He didn't know who it was that decided to approach him at such a time.

At first his thoughts went to Perseus but he immediately disregarded that notion because his nephew would usually just appear from one of the shadows in the corner of his room whenever he needed to speak with him.

And it was most definitely not his sister, Daenerys, as she almost never sought him out so late at night, if at all.

Realizing his questions would only be answered once he saw who the person outside was, Viserys stood up and walked over to open the door.

His brow almost immediately rose in surprise when he saw none other than Margaery Tyrell standing outside of his doorway donning a black cloak with an upraised hood.

"Margaery, what are you doing here?" Viserys asked, perplexed.

"What do you mean, my prince? I live here." Margaery quipped, eliciting a deadpan look from him.

"I mean, what are you doing here so late at night?" Viserys reiterated dryly.

"Can we talk inside? You wouldn't want to keep a lady waiting in the cold would you?" Margaery teased jokingly.

Viserys barely refrained from narrowing his eyes in suspicion but he nonetheless moved aside.

As Margaery walked inside of the room Viserys leaned forward to look down both sides of the hall. There was not a soul in sight and the only noise was the crackling of the torches on the walls.

"Are you sure this couldn't wait till the m-…" The sentence that Viserys started died the moment he closed the door and turned around.

Standing a few feet away from him was, most obviously, Margaery. But the drastic change to the situation was the fact that she had seemingly discarded her cloak, which was now pooled at her feet, to reveal what was underneath.

The daughter of House Tyrell was dressed in a green nightgown embroidered with the golden rose sigil of her house. And it wasn't a modest gown either. He could easily see the woman's nipples poking out from behind the silky fabric and the gown just barely reached the middle of her thighs.

Margaery smirked at his stupefied expression. "Are you sure you want to wait until the morning?" While her mischievous tone remained there was also now a sultry undertone.

His eyes instinctively roamed over her form. The nightgown left little to imagination. He could easily make out the curvature of her waist along with wide hips that led down to long, sexy legs.

Try as he might, Viserys couldn't stop himself from gulping at the heavenly sight before him. Margaery was even more perfect than he had imagined.

"I suppose there won't be much talking going on tonight." Viserys remarked smartly.

He knew full well what Margaery's intentions were. And while he didn't quite know what made her suddenly want to throw away her purity, he in all honesty couldn't care less.

Margaery slowly approached him with an almost predatory smile until she was only inches away from him. "I'd much rather do this." She whispered seductively before claiming his lips.

Excitement swelled within Viserys as the woman kissed him. The night had taken such an extreme turn that he couldn't help but wonder if he was dreaming. Not that it really mattered. Even if he was asleep, he'd simply take this illusory moment as practice.

Viserys allowed his lust to overcome him. He wrapped his arms around Margaery's waist and pulled her closer to him.

His tongue slipped past her lips to begin expertly roaming the insides of her mouth drawing out beautiful noises.

There was only a primal urge within him now and the need to do whatever he could to satisfy that urge.

Reaching under the hems of her nightgown, Viserys used his hands as they were intended and gained a good grip on Margaery's plump ass. He then began kneading the firm flesh as if it was dough.

Viserys broke away from her lips to begin kissing and sucking on her neck. His administered kisses drew even more erotic noises from the woman.

"Wow…you're good at this." Margaery breathed out.

"You've seen nothing yet." Viserys promised before using his grip on her buttocks to lift her up, making her instinctively wrap her legs around his waist.

They made their way over to the bed where Viserys laid Margaery on her back, making her ample breasts jiggle nicely. She chewed her lip and gazed at him with a wanton expression. It was a look that made his cock strain in his pants.

As he began slowly discarding his shirt, revealing the muscled torso underneath, Viserys's eyes never left the sight before him. In just a few moments he would make the woman before him scream out his name.

But first he needed to make sure that she reached a certain level of satisfaction before they got to the main course.

Viserys, now bare chested, knelt over Margaery and claimed her lips yet again. Meanwhile, his hand drifted upward to cup one of her breasts through the silk fabric of her gown.

While she didn't have overly large breasts, or even large breasts, it was more than enough for a handful and it's perkiness made up for its lack of mass.

He positioned one of her hardened nipples between the middle of his fingers before he began tweaking the nipple and kneading her breast at the same time.

It stayed this way until Viserys felt like going to the next step.

Breaking the kiss, Viserys began slowly trailing down, leaving lingering kisses along her body. He could hear Margaery's breathing quicken as she realized what his target was.

Eventually, Viserys reached his destination. The only thing that now separated him from his prize was a nightgown. He pushed up the flimsy fabric, revealing the prize underneath.

Damn near shedding a tear in the process, Viserys laid his eyes on unarguably the most perfect looking and clean shaven snatch he had ever seen.

Reigning his urge to outright plow into the masterpiece in front of him, Viserys's gaze flickered up to meet Margaery's. As a sort of test, he placed a single kiss on her cunt sending a shiver through her body that made her lay her head back in ecstasy.

Satisfied with her response, Viserys swiftly went to work. He licked her slit before slipping his tongue inside of her love canal to begin expertly roaming around.

Margaery's breathing got heavier and her moans started to become more and more frequent as he explored her insides.

Viserys reached up to fondle her tits as he continued to devour her with gusto. He then used his other hand to begin rubbing the small button that all women had just above their snatch.

"Seven hells!" Margaery exclaimed loudly before hurriedly covering her mouth with her hands.

A smug grin found its way on Viserys's face as he watched the noblewoman's eyes roll back as she descended into a fit of muffled moans. He could tell that his skills were quickly bringing Margaery to her climax.

Barely a few moments later, Margaery's body suddenly seized up and began shuddering. "Ohh f-fuck!" She moaned out.

Viserys gladly drank all of the sweet juices that flowed out of her cunt before he stood to his feet.

His eyes took in the view of Margaery, still scantily clad in her nightgown, laying on his bed with a euphoric smile on her face. His pants felt like they were getting smaller just by looking at her expression.

Working quickly, he unfastened and stepped out of his trousers. His rock hard cock immediately sprang up, now free from any constraints.

Margaery groggily lowered her vision until she saw his manhood standing proudly. He could practically feel his ego swell when her eyes went wide in alarm.

"H-how is it so big?" Margaery said in horror.

Viserys grinned at her. "It'll feel even bigger when it's inside of you." He knelt down and began smothering her neck and collarbone with kisses.

"That…thing can't possibly fit inside of me, Viserys." Margaery said a bit fearfully.

"It won't be so bad." Viserys took one of her hands and began guiding it down to his shaft, "You just have to get used to it."

A deep sigh came from Viserys at the feeling of Margaery's soft and dainty hand wrapped around his throbbing manhood.

"I can barely fit my hand around it." Margaery commented in awe as she looked down at the thick object in her hand.

A groan escaped Viserys's lips when the daughter of House Tyrell gave his meat shaft a few practice strokes.

"Does that feel nice?" Margaery asks before she starts to use both of her hands to continue stroking him.

"Mm, yes. Keep going, just like that." Viserys said before claiming her lips to begin a heated kissing session.

Surprisingly enough, it didn't take too long for Viserys to start to feel his release fast approaching. He could count on one hand the amount of women who had made him reach his climax in such a short time. And none of them had been able to do it with only their hands.

Although knowing that Margaery was the only one who could accomplish such a task made something inside of him flutter, he couldn't help but rebel at the act of climaxing so soon.

Wanting to keep his pride as a ladies' man, Viserys quickly stood while also pulling Margaery off of the bed to stand with him. His actions drew a look of confusion from the flustered woman.

Viserys put a tender but firm hand on her shoulder. "On your knees." He commanded gruffly as he helped guide the noblewoman to kneel in front of him.

Margaery, eyes glazed with desire, came face to face with his hardened manhood. He could feel her warm breath tickling his shaft.

"Go on, love. Give it a kiss." Viserys told her.

After a very brief moment of silent debate, Margaery very slowly leaned forward and planted a soft, greeting kiss on the tip of his member.

Viserys needed to bite the inside of his cheek to stop himself from exploding at the sight of the famed beauty of the Reach kneeling before him with her lips pressed against his cock.

Apparently not needing anymore guidance, Margaery parted her lips and gave the head of his manhood a tentative lick. Groans of pleasure escaped Viserys as the woman began licking him up and down.

"Try putting it in your mouth and sucking on it." Viserys advised impatiently.

Heeding his words, Margaery grabbed ahold of his cock before she encased the head inside of her mouth. Viserys leaned his head back in ecstasy as she began leisurely sucking him off.

"Ah yes, just like that. Good girl." Viserys praised as he let a guiding hand rest on top of her bobbing head.

What made the experience even better was the fact that Viserys could tell that this was Margaery's first time handling a cock.

But she was most definitely a quick learner because as she realized that she would currently only be able to envelope a quarter of his manhood within her mouth, she began using her hand to jerk off the rest.

Viserys wished that he could pause time and experience this moment forever but he knew that his release was fast approaching and this time he couldn't stop it.

"It's coming." Viserys warned Margaery, but he was both surprised and happy when she simply continued slurping his cock with even more vigor.

Either she didn't know what his words meant or she simply didn't care. But neither option mattered any longer since after a few more moments Viserys's grip on the top of her head tightened and he exploded with a grunt.

Margaery's eyes widened a bit as his seed suddenly began spurting into the back of her throat giving her no other option but to start drinking his semen.

After shooting a few more ropes, Viserys sighed in satisfaction as his release ended. To his dismay, Margaery quickly gulped down the thick fluid. He wanted to see how she looked with her tongue coated in his seed.

"It's a bit…bitter." Margaery commented with a wrinkled brow.

"Well it isn't supposed to taste like nectar." Viserys said in amusement before effortlessly picking the woman up and tossing her onto the bed.

"Can't you be more gentle!" Margaery giggled as he pounced on her and immediately began attacking her neck again.

"Being gentle isn't in my blood." Viserys quipped before practically ripping off Margaery's nightgown.

Just the mere sight of her naked, perky breasts paired with a thin waist, wide hips and long legs made his semi-hardened member grow back to full length.

The wild and feral blood that ran through Viserys's veins activated as he took in the sight of Margaery splayed out before him, completely naked and defenseless.

Viserys eagerly lined his cock up with her opening but before he entered her he leaned forward and growled out. "I'm going to ruin you." He promised with a beastly tone.

Margaery gulped in fear and anticipation as she waited for Viserys to make his move, which he gladly did a moment later.

The moment the tip of his cock slipped past her lower lips and breached her inner sanctum, Viserys let out a groan. It felt like he was forcing his way into paradise through a warm and tight passage.

A sharp inhale came from Margaery when she felt him press up against the last barrier that preserved her virtue. "W-wait!" She hurriedly exclaimed.

"What is it?" Viserys asked her, hoping dearly that she wasn't about to make him stop.

Uncertainty flashed in Margaery's eyes. "It's going to hurt." She murmured.

Viserys withheld a sigh. For all of her manipulating and seductress antics, Margaery was, at the end of the day, still just a young maiden afraid of the pain of losing her purity. If he were any less of a man, he would've laughed out loud.

Instead of embarrassing her however, Viserys gently caressed her cheek and spoke with soft, caring words. "It will only hurt for a moment, love. Just think about the two of us and ignore everything else." He told her before leaning down to lovingly claim her lips.

When Margaery began losing herself in their kiss, Viserys made his move and in one swift motion pierced through her virtue.

A single groan of displeasure signaled that Margaery had felt the intrusion into her being but she soldiered through and continued to focus on their lips pressing against one another's.

Only when all signs of discomfort disappeared from her face did Viserys begin moving his hips. Moans quickly filled the room as his cock sank in and out of her wet warmth.

No longer able to focus on their kiss, Margaery's head fell back. "Maiden's tits, it feels so good!" She whimpered as more moans and groans continued to signify her pleasure.

And she wasn't the only one that was currently feeling good. Viserys also let out groans of his own at the feeling of her cunt clenching and unclenching around his shaft.

"You're so fucking tight." Viserys cursed in pleasure and grit his teeth as he sped up in pace.

Moans and grunts were the only sounds throughout the room as they both fully gave in to their primal urges.

After only a few moments in, Viserys felt the telltale signs of his climax. He looked at Margaery who's eyes were shut tight as she was by now reduced to a mewling mess.

But even though she seemed to be reveling in the feeling of his cock, he knew from experience that she was not yet about to reach her own climax.

Refusing to lose in a battle of endurance with a just made woman, Viserys pulled out of Margaery before effortlessly flipping her over onto her hands and knees.

Surprisingly, his flagrant show of manhandling drew an excited giggle from his bed partner. It was becoming ever apparent that Renly hadn't satisfied his wife during the time of their short marriage.

Usually a woman like Margaery who loved to be in control of her own decisions would have balked at the fact that Viserys had essentially just forced her into a more submissive position.

But instead of becoming angry, Margaery had seemingly become even more aroused as she almost immediately arched her back and presented her lovely backside to him.

Viserys couldn't help but cop a feel of her plump and round rear. He massaged the flesh with skill acquired from years of practice before he grabbed hold of his cock and began teasingly rubbing the tip between her moist slit.

"Just put it back in already." Margaery whimpered impatiently.

"Just a moment ago you were telling me it wouldn't fit." Viserys said humorously.

It was also only a while ago that Margaery had been trying to use him for her own selfish needs. And yet here she was practically begging for his cock.

And while he would have loved to make her truly beg him, at the moment his need to feel her tightness was also at an all time high.

So after briefly admiring the way Margaery wiggled her ass invitingly at him, Viserys realigned himself with her opening before plunging back inside of her.

Margaery moaned in satisfaction as his member entered her until the hilt. He had no doubt that she felt his deep penetration all the way in her guts.

Viserys's hands gained a tight grip on her curvaceous hips before he set a vicious pace.

More sensual moans escaped from Margaery as Viserys relentlessly pounded into her. The loud smacking sounds of his groin and her rippling ass colliding resounded throughout the room.

When he felt her insides begin to clench his member more and more frequently. He could tell that her climax was already nearing, as was his own.

Viserys's eyes glanced up and to his amusement he found that they were in perfect view of the large mirror that decorated his room.

Reaching forward to grab a firm hold of Margaery's luscious brown hair, he pulled her back against his chest. While thrusting, Viserys used his free hand to wrap around and roughly fondle her erotically shaking tits before he leaned forward and whispered into her ear.

"Watch yourself." Viserys breathed out huskily, prompting Margaery to look at her reflection, "See how pretty you are while I fuck you."

Like the final nail in the coffin, Viserys's words made Margaery cry out as her orgasm hit her like an oliphaunt. Her cunt gripped him with an unyielding hold as her body spasmed and shaked.

Unable to combat the feeling of her inner walls clenched tight around him, Viserys gritted his teeth and gave one last thrust before he shot his seed deep inside of her.

Usually Viserys would have taken great care to not finish inside of a woman. But Margaery wasn't on the same level as the whores he usually had. A daughter of a noble house like the Tyrell's was leagues above any ordinary woman, in birth and in wealth.

Besides, his nephew was already trying to form an alliance with the Tyrell's. So if Margaery were to become pregnant with his child then it would only serve to strengthen the chances of that alliance happening.

Once both of their climaxes reached their end, they collapsed onto their backs next to each other.

Neither of them said anything for a long while as they simply took the moment to catch their breath and realize what they just did.

Viserys turned his head to look at Margaery who was simply staring at the ceiling with an unreadable expression.

"Do you regret it?" Viserys asked her.

The fact that his question wasn't answered immediately concerned Viserys more than he thought it would.

Most maidens, after he took their virginity, usually praised him for his actions. Only a rare few ever regretted doing the deed with him. And while he didn't know why, Viserys felt something inside of him twist at the likely possibility that Margaery also regretted giving him her chastity.

Before he could speak again however, Margaery suddenly spoke. "I regret a lot of things, but that wasn't one of them." Again, Viserys didn't understand why he felt relieved at her words.

Margaery finally looked at him. "I gave you something that I didn't even give my own husband. You must think the worst of me." She smiled sadly.

"Of course I don't." Viserys said sincerely, "Renly was a boy lover and a fool. May he rot in the Seven Hell's for not taking responsibility for a wife as beautiful as you."

"And will you take responsibility? Or will you forget about me after getting what you wanted?" Margaery asked.

Viserys reached out and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear before he gently caressed her cheek. "Soon we will be married and I will show you why I'm better than a thousand Renly's." He swore.

Margaery shook her head. "I've already told you, Viserys. My grandmother won't let us marry unless Daenerys is betrothed to Willas as well." She reminded him.

"I say this with all due respect, love. But fuck what your grandmother wants." Margaery's brow rose at that before she began laughing.

"Even though we're alone you are far too bold. There are very few who dare to insult my grandmother within these walls." Margaery said, amused.

"Is your life not yours to control? Why must you follow the words of some stubborn old woman?" Viserys's words made Margaery's expression turn somber.

"Ever since I was a child, I was taught to value my family above all else. No matter how much I may not want to, I can't just disregard them. Family is the only thing that will stand by your side when every one else turns their back on you." Margaery tells him.

"If you were to become my wife, then you would become my family as well. And at that point, there would be nothing that I wouldn't do for you." Viserys promised.

Margaery's eyes slightly widened at his declaration. And it was at that moment that Viserys was starting to understand his true feelings toward her.

The very first time he saw Margaery something inside of his chest had fluttered. And he never told anyone this, not even his nephew, but every time he looked at her he would become enamored by not just her beauty but also the way she held herself in public.

He couldn't hope to know which side of Margaery was the genuine one, the side she flaunted in public or the one she portrayed in private.

But something instinctively told him that the way she laughed at his jokes or smiled whenever a random child would run up to hand her a flower simply couldn't be faked by someone without a heart.

"Do you truly mean what you say?" Margaery asks quietly.

"I do." Viserys replied truthfully.

While he would never betray his nephew, if Margaery were to become his wife then she would essentially be joining his family. And if there was one thing that he made certain, it was that he always made sure to look out for his family.

Margaery stared at him for a long moment, obviously searching for any signs of lying. But this time she wouldn't find a lie. And once she realized this, Viserys witnessed that same genuine and beautiful smile she always showed in public.

"Alright then, let's do it. Let's get married." Margaery said happily.

Viserys raised an eyebrow. "What about your grandmother? I thought you said she wouldn't like it." He reminded her.

Margaery never lost her smile as she rolled over to lay on top of him. Instinctively, Viserys wrapped his arms around her waist as she leaned down until their faces were only an inch apart.

"As a wise man once said, fuck what my grandmother wants." Margaery joked before her lips claimed his.

It didn't take long for the two lovers to begin their second round of lovemaking. But this time it was filled with even more passion as both of their flames of love were kindled by the others.

---

A/N: I know I know, another lengthy wait. There is no excuse I can give to justify the wait, I simply wasn't able to get my creative juices flowing. It's unfortunate but writer's block is a thing.

Anyway, tell me how you all feel about the new situations. More specifically, how you all feel about me making Willas more interesting than his canon counterpart and making Margaery independent of Olenna. You can probably tell already but they will both be important to the future and progression of the story.

Fun fact, I am a firm believer in the 'Bigger is Better' trope. At least in regards to the main character and the few side characters I like, *cough* Viserys *cough*. All hail characters with bigger penises than those around them!