Chapter 23 - Crown's Crisis & Daenerys' Trials

"Lord Commander, we caught these Wildlings sneaking their way south."

Ser Jaime put away the letters and looked beyond his desk. It was dark inside Castle Black, even during the day, but there were enough torches around him. His shoulders coated with black fur, he proudly glanced at the men of Night's Watch who brought in three Wildlings, chained and cuffed.

"Why bring them to me? Do what we do with Wildlings—have them dig their own graves, strip them, and put them in," Jaime ordered and looked back at the letter from his father. "We have more pressing matters."

"But my Lord, they say they are messengers of Mance Rayder."

Brows shot up, intrigued, Jaime got up to his feet and gave his full attention to the three wildlings. "And what message do they bring? Beg for food? Beg for clothes? Beg to be let in?"

"Heh! Beg? Fucking kneelers. We come to warn you of doom, boy."

Jaime let out a weary sigh, flicking his hand as if swatting away a fly. "Kill them. Double the watch while you're at it."

"Aye, my Lord."

"And send Ser Thorne. My Father has sent supplies our way."

Excited, the Night's Watch men hurried away. To them, electing Jaime Lannister as the new Lord Commander was the best thing that could have happened. The man was strict, just, learned, and most of all, rich. Food and clothing were no longer scarce resources at Castle Black.

Finally, Jaime sat back down and read his father's letter for the fourth time.

Aren't you being too ambitious, Father?

Nonetheless, he wrote back.

Red Keep was a mess.

The word of the King's abduction had spread throughout the Seven Kingdoms, and now the alliances were being broken. The balance that Robert had built to keep the likes of Riverlands and the Vale in check broke apart.

While the North stood by, the support base of the Crown weakened, with only the Crownlands and the Stormlands standing as nearby backers. Stannis, having to deal with it all, tried his best to deal with the storm.

"Lord Varys, any word on the King's whereabouts?" Stannis glanced at the Master of Whispers inside the Small Council chamber.

"I'm afraid not, my Lord. He was last spotted in Volantis, boarding a ship bound east. A fortunate turn, perhaps, for there were no Golden Company men lurking in the shadows. And if whispers are to be believed, the Golden Company is a thing of the past."

"I am aware," Stannis said, arms crossed. "Ser Barristan's letter made that plain enough. Hard to believe, but not beyond reason—not if it is my brother. He lives, and he fights with purpose. I need only hold fast until he returns."

"Ah, there's the challenge, ain't it?" Ser Davos said, his voice low. "Our friends are few enough as it is, and without King Robert's hammer to keep 'em in line, they'll keep slipping away."

"We will endure," Stannis said, his tone final. "Lord Varys, if word reaches you of Robert or our enemies, I expect to hear of it."

"You'll be the first, my Lord."

With that, the Small Council meeting came to an end. But at the gates of the Red Keep, a goodbye was being said. With a fairly large, armed escort, Sansa was prepared to head back to the North as per Robert's wishes that were forwarded by the letter Ser Barristan had sent.

"I hate this," Myrcella whispered, clinging tightly to her friend. Her voice trembled as she asked, "You won't forget me, will you?"

Sansa hugged her and held her tears back. After having been through so much with her, having seen and experienced so much, having lost her virginity with her. This was a goodbye that struck hard.

"I would never, Myrcella. We'll meet again, I'm sure of that," Sansa promised and pulled herself back. "Visit me if you can."

Finally, Sansa looked at Jon and hugged him. Although she wasn't overly fond of him, she still considered him her brother.

"I wished you'd come with me."

"I can't, Sansa. I meant to take the black, but the King has other plans for me. I won't go against his will," Jon said and pressed folded letters into her hand. "Give these to Robb, Bran, and Arya, will you?"

"And please forward this to Bear Island!" Tommen said, stepping forward to hand Sansa a missive. "It's for Lady Lyanna Mormont."

Sansa chuckled, aware of the young Tommen's love story.

"I will." She pocketed the missives and stepped back towards the carriage. "I'll go now. Please, take care."

Myrcella waved fervently. She hated herself almost. She hated that Sansa was leaving, but at the same time, she loved it. When Robert would return, she wouldn't have Sansa to worry about, she reckoned.

And she hated herself for having such selfish thoughts.

"Be well," Myrcella muttered as her dear friend finally vanished inside the carriage.

"Bah! Yer a stubborn one, ain't ya, woman?" Robert grunted, staring down at Missandei's face. "Figured ye'd have the sense to piss off after the first night, but here ye are—seven bloody nights now! Hells, I'll give it to ya—I'm almost impressed."

Missandei barely heard him past the haze of pleasure clouding her mind, her body trembling beneath his sheer weight. She was sprawled under him, back arched against the bed, legs pulled up high against his shoulders, and knees folded tight against her flushed body. His strong arms locked her in place as he pressed down on her shorter frame.

She gasped at the overwhelming scrapes in her sensitive walls, again and again, each deep plunge forcing a shuddering moan from her lips.

"Ahhh…. Goo–ds…" Her moans grew louder, lewd cries spilling from her lips as his thrusts went deeper. She gasped each time he struck her cervix, again and again, each deep plunge forcing a shuddering moan from her lips.

She'd expected to get used to this by now, but she was wrong.

Robert watched eagerly as her full, dusky swells jolted between her knees with every brutal slap of his hips. The sight only urged him on, his palms tightening around the backs of her smooth thighs as he drove forward, drilling so deep she couldn't do anything but take him, her body molded to his will by now.

She'd willingly offered herself to him, and now he had every right to do as he pleased.

The air was thick and heavy with the scent of sweat, and the musky evidence of their relentless fucking. The sheets beneath her were utterly ruined, damp from the hours of their bodies colliding against each other, rocking in a lustful rhythm. The frothy, white, proof of her multiple climaxes coated her thighs and his cock. Robert never relented, not even once, plowing into her with the unyielding force of a man who took what he wanted, and he made certain she wanted it too.

Missandei shuddered violently, her slippery walls clamping around his iron-hard cock as the ecstasy gripped her body once more. Her neck arched back, forcing her head deeper into the bedding, eyes fluttering as the pleasure threatened to overtake her completely.

Robert smirked, catching the signs of her losing herself completely. Her mouth parted in a silent cry of bliss, her eyelashes fluttering, her body twitching beneath him. But he wasn't having that, not yet.

He extended a hand and smacked lightly against her flushed cheek, just enough to bring her back, to force those golden eyes open and stay on him. He wanted her to see what he was doing; what he was doing to her needy pussy, and witness her body reacting in a frenzy.

"Look at me," he growled, rough with hunger, his thrusts unrelenting. "Don't you fuckin' dare lose yourself yet, woman."

"Ughhh~" Missandei whimpered, dazed, her nails scraping weakly against his biceps.

Robert merely grinned before shoving his cock even deeper into her, ready to chase his own release. "Hah! What's this now? Did yer queen pawn off yer twat, or did she send ye to wiggle it at me like a barmaid short on coin? If so, bad news, lass—I ain't bitin'. Had finer cunts than yers, ones with more fire, ones that didn't roll over like a whipped dog soon as I unbuckled me belt!"

"Yes–shh.. Ah… ahhhh…. Fuck! Yes! Oohhh Yes!" Missandei was too far gone, her body a melting mess of sweat and juices under him.

Her moans were high-pitched and desperate, a sinful melody echoing off the stone walls. Her fingers twitched, reaching for him, subconsciously looking for something to ground herself, anything. His face, his jaw, the rough strength of his muscular body. She traced his sharp cheekbones, dragging her trembling fingers across his sweat-slicked skin, down to the thick column of his throat where she felt the rumble of his voice.

"You... Fuckin'... Love… This… Don't, you?" Robert slammed in deep with every word, the sound of the flesh clapping threatening to leave wounds.

"N-Noooh… No… That's… no-aaaaah!' Her breath stifled, and then her pussy clenched around his cock once more. Tight and needy, pulling him deeper just as her last barrier shattered once more.

Her pussy clamped down like no tomorrow, spasming, wet muscles fluttering around his thrusting cock, and Robert felt it all. He felt the desperate rippling on her soaked walls, the scorching heat and wetness of her climax drenching his cock.

"Fuck!" He cursed under his breath, his body tense, muscles flexing as he slammed into her one last time before wrenching himself free.

His breath was already ragged when he sat back on his knees, his thick cock slick and glistening with her nectar, throbbing furiously in his grip. With a few fast and merciless strokes, he groaned deep in his chest, his batter spewing hot and thick onto her trembling belly. White streaks painted her brown skin, dripping down the curve of her slender waist, gleaming in the dim candlelight.

Robert took it all in, admiring his own work, smirking at the sight of her. Her supple chest rising and falling, skin wet, body spent, yet still trembling, still feeling the faint phantom taste of his powerful cock inside her.

"Bah! Quit yer gawkin' an' clean it up!" Robert bellowed, flopping back like a sack of turnips, legs sprawled wide so she'd know where she belonged. Arms tucked behind his head, he settled in, ready to watch her earn her keep.

His gaze followed Missandei as she moved between his legs, crawling on her knees, her every movement smooth and deliberate. Her curving hips swayed like a lustful cat just saved from drowning in pleasure.

One slender hand braced against the hard muscle of his thigh, feeling the lingering heat of their collisions beneath her palm, the raw power that had just ravaged her. Her other hand wrapped around his cock; still monstrously thick, but slowly calming down.

Missandei swallowed, her breath unsteady. This man; this brutal, untamed champion of the Pit, had taken her over and over, wringing pleasure from her body until she was left trembling and spent. And yet, his cock was slow to calm down, his monstrous length was still twitching from the aftertaste of her pussy.

Her lips parted as she eased back the foreskin, revealing the swollen, glistening head beneath. Without a word, she lowered her head, her ass arching high. Her breath was hot against his masculinity, and her tongue flicked out, trailing a wet, teasing stroke that made his hips twitch.

Robert grunted, eyes locked onto her as her lips spread around his girth, her delicate features a sight to behold. Those full lips, that smooth brown skin, and the wild tumble of her dark hair that, somehow, never got in the way.

Her tongue, warm and slick, tracing slow, slithering lines over every ridge and pulsing vein. She dragged her mouth over his cock with worship, taking her time, savoring him. Spit mixed with the thick, pearly remnants of his seeds, a stark contrast against the pink of her tongue while she licked him clean.

"Ummh..." She hummed reluctantly onto his flaccid cock.

Robert smirked, his fingers twitching with the urge to grab her, to force her deeper, to see just how much more she could take if she woke his beast up once more. But he let her take her time, let her savor it, let her prove she knew exactly how to please him.

He watched the way her mouth glistened with their culmination, the way her lips clung to his cock as she bobbed her head up and down a few times, cleanly swallowing every last drop.

"Right then, back to the tale. So yer Queen locked that silk-swathed bastard from Qarth and her wee handmaiden in a vault to choke on their own farts or starve like rats?" Robert grunted, getting his knob polished like a King. "Hah! That's a right nasty way to kill a man. Almost respect it."

No, he didn't respect it. He used that information to check Daenerys' mental state. And from what he'd seen over the past week, there was something lost in her mind. She completely lacked empathy for anyone she deemed an annoyance.

"Umm…hm…" Missandei swallowed quickly, steadying herself before continuing, her tongue never lingering too long. She paused just briefly to speak. "Her Grace meant only to teach them a lesson."

"Hah! They're worm food, what bloody lesson's left to learn?" Robert laughed and took a deep breath. "Now, what's she want from me, eh? It's been a bloody week. I've stuffed me face, pissed me guts, and fucked me fill. Thought I'd be gettin' her invitation by now!"

"She's interested." Missandei blurted, as if she already had a response prepared. "She's confused about what to offer you for your services."

"Hah!" Robert chortled loudly. "First off, I ain't no bloody servant and second—she damn well knows thepriceif she wants anything worth a damn from me!"

Missandei paused and looked up at his face, seeing he was fully serious. He wasn't the first man to desire Daenerys. But in her eyes, this was the only man who could even dream of having her since he had much to bring to the table.

"I… Her Grace has indeed invited you to the court today."

"Well, what are ye waitin' for then?" Robert quickly slipped himself out of her delicate mouth and dragged himself off the bed. "Move your arse."

Just as Robert grabbed his tunic, Missandei rushed to help him button up as if she were his servant. With her own hands, she brought him the breeches and then tightened his belt, all the while looking up at him with needy, seductive eyes, still standing there in her naked glory.

Robert pitied her. He couldn't see this as an act of choice. She was definitely ordered to do all that to keep him happy. This was no better than being a slave, and having heard her story from her mouth, he saw her service to Daenerys not much different from her previous master.

Finally, Missandei finished helping him dress and then grabbed her own gown. She then quickly wiped her face and led Robert out of the chamber. She limped a little, too sore after their hours of activities.

But soon, she ushered him into Daenerys's court. From the looks of it, she was dealing with some commoner who'd brought the dead body of a child, burned to bones, likely the work of the dragons.

Robert didn't understand the language, but it was clear that the man was grieving the death.

Daenerys looked at Robert's entrance and gave him a short nod, while her lips hid a smirk at Missandei's limping walk.

Robert sighed inside. The way she acted made it clear that she wasn't that worried about the commoner.

But in the end, she responded to the local and sent him away.

Robert expected to be called forth for a discussion. But to his surprise, Daenerys stood up and walked down from the stairs to him. Behind him, Ser Jorah and Daario Naharis followed.

"Follow me, Lord Ned," Daenerys said and continued to walk out.

Interested, Robert walked right beside her, ignoring the two men behind. Noticing their one hand constantly on the hilt of their sword almost made him chuckle. That fear was satisfying.

"Where to?"

"To my dragons," Daenerys replied solemnly, her expression hardening. "They've been stealing livestock up until now. But today, they killed an innocent child."

Robert frowned, questioning the reason for this invitation. "Yer can't be expectin' me to slay those fine creatures? They're far too precious t—"

"No, never. But they must be chained. My bond with Drogon is strong, yet the others are still untamed. If they lash out, I trust you will be there."

At that, Robert just nodded and silently followed her all the way to the dragon pit. He followed her inside without much fear, even as Ser Jorah and Daario stood back to guard the entrance. Soon enough, it was just him and Daenerys walking deeper into the pit.

"Grrrr…"

Viserion and Rhaegal soon came into view. The two dragons reacted positively towards Daenerys, but at Robert's sight, they beckoned with growls, as if afraid of him.

Hah? What happened to them? Did that other dragon tell them the story?

"I'll tie them." Daenerys carefully walked forward. But surprisingly, the two dragons didn't move an inch, constantly staring at Robert the entire time as if scared to even flinch.

Clank!

Daenerys worked fast and cuffed one claw each, keeping them from getting out of the pit. It ached her, clear from her expression, but she walked straight back to Robert with a forced smile.

"Let's return."

Robert nodded and followed her back. Walking so close to her side, he became aware of how puny she felt without her dragons. Not just her short and slender stature, but even the air around her didn't feel imposing.

Perhaps to others, she appeared grand. But to him, even with her dragons, she seemed small. Petty and desperate. Dreaming of a throne that her family rightfully lost after their insane actions. Her hatred for Robert Baratheon was personal, not righteous. While Robert's Rebellion was righteous.

"I…" Daenerys hesitated mid-step, her pale, sleeveless arms drawn close as her fingers tangled together. A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face. "It's not often I meet someone from Westeros. I needed a moment alone."

Robert frowned and faced her, halting. The sudden change of air was palpable; her expressions that always hinted at confidence and ruthlessness had gone softer.

What is she planning now? Thinks she'll snare me by playing the helpless maid?

"Aye, ain't every day ye see a soft-bellied Westerosi waddlin' about in Essos." Robert entertained her crassly.

Daenerys chuckled and leaned back against the nearest wall, looking up at his tall frame, his face. "Do you ever think about going home?"

"Home? Bah!" Robert snorted. "Westeros? Full of prancing lords and simpering ladies, all sniffin' each other's arses and suckin' each other's knobs. I like it here—free, wild. Back there, some ponce in silk'd try to make me kneel. Sod that. I bow to no piss-dribblin' lordling."

That was a hint, and by the looks of Daenerys' raised brows, she understood it.

"I will make you a lord when I take my throne. Not just any lord, but one with power, with gold—a Lord Paramount."

"Aye, then I'll be servin' ye, ain't I? More like a bloomin' servant, I reckon. Ain't no freedom in that, eh?"

Seeing her words failing, Daenerys sipped in a deep breath and gave a rather suggestive expression. Her lips pursed, eyes innocent, her legs squeezed together, her arms crossed under her bosom, revealing a trace of cleavage.

"So you'll fight here your whole life? I have closed the fighting pits."

"Nah, not really. I'll be off somewhere else. Gotta find some poor sod that can actually put me in the dirt. Yer dragon tried, pissed itself, and failed. Now I'm wonderin' if there's a single bastard out there with the stones to finish the job." Robert remained unshaken by her royal charm. Her purple eyes did stir something up in his loins, however.

Daenerys nodded in the end and stood up straight again. "In that case, might I have you in my service? Astapor and Yunkai are lost to me, and I see no man but you fit to reclaim them. You will have your payment—gold, as much as you can carry."

"Hah! Gold?! I wipe me arse with finer coin than ye'll ever see! Got vaults of the stuff rottin' away in Braavos—more'n enough fer ten lifetimes of debauchery!" Robert heartily chuckled and began walking slowly, ensuring she followed him behind. "Nah, I don't think ye got the guts to sway me. I'm off come dawn—best o' luck to yer?"

Let's see if you'll stoop that low.

Frowning, only Daenerys's gulp came as a response. Soon enough, they were out, and she watched Robert simply walk away, returning to his private chamber.

Left behind, Daenerys sighed and looked at Ser Jorah first, and then Daario.

"Can you two defeat him?"

"I'd rather bash my head on a boulder and hope it'll break." Daario jokingly answered.

"He's the finest warrior I have ever seen, Khaleesi," Ser Jorah replied. "I see no man ever standing in his way."

Daenerys nodded, agreeing with their evaluation.

"Then we must have him."

Westeros,

Stannis was having a hard time already, and now things had turned for the worse.

Seated in his solar, he stared at the missive sent by one of the spies that reached Varys in time. The words were simple and short, yet more than effective. Tywin was preparing to raise a large army. It was confirmed by the merchants who sold supplies at Lannisport.

"It's not Tywin or the Ironborn that surprise me," Stannis muttered, his gaze steady upon Lady Olenna Tyrell, his guest. "It's Dorne. That they would stand beside Tywin Lannister—I would have sooner believed the sun might rise in the west. They hated the man."

"Oh, the Iron Throne does have a way of making foes into friends and friends into corpses, doesn't it? But here we are. Your brother is gone, and the game goes on. So tell me, Lord Stannis, what move will you make next?"

Stannis regarded the old woman with cold scrutiny. "The Queen of Thorns knows well that my brother is not lost—only doing what must be done. He will return, and he will honor the promise."

"Oh, he's adrift in the far seas, is he? Last seen in Volantis, you say? Well, miracles or not, he's still made of flesh and bone." Olenna adjusted her posture, her tone turning crisp. "Perhaps it's time you stopped chasing ghosts and turned to your duties. Wars do not wait for lost men, and neither should you."

Frowning, Stannis' voice turned colder. "You're asking me to betray my brother?"

"I'm asking you to use that sharp mind of yours and see what's in front of you. The throne is empty, you're his heir, and three kingdoms are sharpening their knives. And what do you have? My house, hanging by a thread of a promise that's all but snapped." Olenna didn't waste more time and rose to her feet. "You're a capable man. Younger than your brother—and suitable enough for my granddaughter's hand."

"I have a wife and a daughter."

"For now." Olenna waved a hand as if brushing the matter aside like a bit of lint. "Think carefully, Lord Stannis. Promises must be kept, compromises must be struck. Ghosts can't be brought back, but there's still plenty left to salvage."

Stannis also stood up in cold fury. But he held his words back from inflicting any more damage.

"I'm taking my granddaughter back to Highgarden, Lord Stannis. Send a word when you've made up your mind. Until then, the Crown is none of House Tyrell's concern."

A little taken aback by Olenna's direct threat, Stannis chose not to say anything. He let the old woman leave and waited for Melisandre to enter his solar.

"She swore to withdraw her support if I don't seize the throne and take her granddaughter to wife," Stannis plainly informed the Red Priestess. "Tell me, is Robert truly alive and well?"

Melisandre nodded carefully and looked towards the hearth in the chamber. "He lives, strong and unbowed, across the Narrow Sea. But his path is not yet complete."

"What good is that? The realm believes Robert is dead."

"Trust in the Lord's will. Stand beside your brother, and let not your faith waver. Doubt now, and Robert's wrath shall be absolute." Melisandre's voice was steady, unshaken. "Pay no mind to the Tyrells—they reek of desperation. They stand to lose everything, yet grasp still for more."

Frowning, Stannis looked at her face. "What do you mean?"

"The young rose blooms… a seed stirs in her womb."

That was it.

In an instant, all of Olenna's direct threats started to make sense.

Robert was serious when he said he was going to leave Meereen the next day. He'd seen enough of Daenerys and no longer deemed her or her dragons a threat. Her state of mind wasn't good enough to take on the full might of the Seven Kingdoms, let alone him.

Personally, she had nothing to offer but her charisma and the fear of her dragons. The Unsullied were anything but mere soldiers who could be killed.

"I'll head east, to Yunkai and Astapor. Plenty of chances to grow stronger there," Robert grumbled, his mind set on gaining more power. "Maybe I'll send a damn messenger to King's Landing once I'm clear of this mess."

Knock! Knock!

It was night, so he lay in his bed shirtless, sprawled and ready to fall asleep. He glanced up at the door and grumbled.

"Who is it?"

Instead of a response, the doors simply opened.

Don't stoop that low, girl.

Robert exhaled at the sight of Daenerys walking in. She wore just a simple, loose gown on her short and slender frame, her skin glowing ashen as her hair, her face full of confidence. She wore nothing on her feet as she closed the door behind her and walked closer to his bed, her eyes never leaving his face.

"If there's something left to discuss, we'll sort it out when the sun's up." Robert gave her a last chance to turn around and leave.

But Daenerys continued to walk closer to his bed and eventually climbed on top of it from the foot side. She crawled towards his legs, her violet gaze unfazed.

Closer and closer, she eventually arrived right beside Robert's waist, where she sat back on her knees and, in a quick move, straddled his loose breeches-covered lap. Robert was naturally a broad man from shoulder to his hips.

So, as Daenerys straddled him, she had to naturally spread her legs to the full extent, so much so that she couldn't land her knees on the bedding on the side. She had to lean forward and rest both her delicate hands on his naked, muscled chest.

"Ain't that a welcome surprise." Robert crassly smiled, ogling at her warm frame. He felt her weight, light to his body. Her hips were neatly grounded on his half-mast cock. "Here to convince me?"

At first, Daenerys silently rubbed her warm, soft hands on Robert's chest. She felt him up and down, from his collarbone to his belly. It was the body of a warrior, far stronger than any she'd seen. Even stronger than Khal Drogo, as a matter of fact.

"You said you don't bow or kneel to any, nor can coins buy you," Daenerys said and gently traced her fingers over his sharp jawline. "Perhaps this can convince you to aid me in saving Yunkai and Astapor?"

I was going there anyway.

"Go on." Robert stretched both his hands and slid them under the hem of her gown, feeling her milky-soft legs. The lack of resistance made it clear what was on her mind.

Daenerys slowly started grinding her hips on his cock. His sheer size almost scared her, the thick length pressing up against her even through the fabric. Her frown was clear to him as she swallowed hard, feeling a little hesitant.

"You are blessed by the Gods." She finally traced his lips with her hand. She honestly felt overwhelmed by his masculinity. It reminded her of a long-forgotten painful memory. But this time, it made her excited, her heart throbbing. "As I am… blessed for the Iron Throne."

She's obsessed.Robert sighed.

Daenerys pulled up her gown, up her hips and over her head, leaving her pale-as-snow frame naked to his eyes. All of her, bare and exposed, without even the smallest scrap of smallclothes. She had come prepared, offering herself in a way that left no room for second thoughts.

Robert's breath was almost choked from the sight. For all the women he had taken, none had been quite like this. There was something ethereal about her, something beyond flesh and blood, a beauty that felt almost untouchable, yet there she was, offering herself to him.

Her body was slender, not overly curvy, her ass and bosom modest but firm, perfectly proportioned to her shorter frame. Her charming face and delicate, full lips were framed by that exotic silver-blonde hair, neatly tied in braids at places, a few locks falling on her small face.

While not exotic in Essos, Daenerys in herself was exotic for her blood.

Her legs weren't long but felt full and creamy; her skin was impeccable, spotless and clean, gleaming like polished ivory.

She leaned forward slightly, and her swells dangled forward, small but enough. The sight of her naked cunt with a trace of white pubes sent jolts of arousal throughout his frame. He hadn't given much thought to fucking her before, but now his cock was eager, swelling thick with need at the sight of her body.

"I hope this will be enough to convince you." Daenerys moved closer, her lithe frame pressing against his solid bulk like a slender branch bowing against the weight of a mighty trunk.

Her full, soft breasts flattened against his chest, her delicate skin rubbing against the rough patches of his coarse chest hair. The prickly feeling made her shudder, a slight gasp slipping from her lips as his heat seeped into her.

Her hands reached up, delicate fingers cupping his face. Then, without hesitation, she lowered her lips to his

"Not many men in this world I consider worthy of this but…" Daenerys sipped an erotic, whimpering breath as she felt his cock perfectly squeeze against her entrance. "You are."

Her lips met his, and the moment they did, Robert growled, deep and approving. His thick arms coiled around her waist, plastering her body against his. He grabbed her ass, fingers spreading over the round flesh with ease, kneading the supple flesh like he was claiming every inch of her. She was shorter than Missandei; shorter, easier to handle, and easier to grip. His rough hands explored her recklessly, squeezing, stretching, testing the way her warm skin yielded under his touch.

Then, without warning, his middle finger slid over the forbidden back entrance.

Daenerys jolted, her body tensing as a sharp gasp escaped her lips. She melted into him, mouth pressing harder and greedily against his. Her tongue slathered his lips, panting hot and needy, like a mare in heat. Every inhale and every exhale, a desperate attempt to reclaim the air he stole from her with every possessive suckle.

Robert's tongue thrust into her mouth, invading, dominating, forcing her to submit before his cock ever even touched her core. His arms caged her in, holding her flush against him, making her feel small, helpless, and utterly weak against the brute strength of him.

Aye, she was powerless after having seen him defeat a dragon. He could break her like a twig if he so desired. Yet here she was, feeling his tongue invade the sanctity of her mouth before his cock would eventually do the same with her cunt.

Daenerys' moans grew louder, more desperate, until she finally broke away, gasping hard as she sat up.

With shaking fingers, she reached down, untying the loose breeches he wore. She pushed them down, her small hands fumbling under her own legs, freeing the beast that would soon devour her.

Robert chuckled, deep and low, his amusement thick with hunger.

His palms, large and rough, slid under Daenerys' gelatinous thighs, gripping her before lifting her clean off his lap with ease. She let out a startled gasp, her body tensing at the sudden show of strength, followed by a breathless giggle. She barely had time to react before he used that moment to kick off his breeches entirely, tossing them aside.

His cock stood like a giant unleashed; thick, veined, and ready for war; jutting straight up, throbbing with fervor. The lamplight flickered over the heavy shaft, highlighting his unholy size, from the thick base to the swollen, purpled head glistening at the tip.

Daenerys stared wide eyed, her fingers trembling slightly as she reached out to hold his cock.

Her breath choked as she sank back down. Not fully; just enough for his cock to nestle against her curving belly, the heat of it branding her. It was scorching, ridged, throbbing against her soft skin. The broad tip dragged over her silvery curls, rubbing against her damp petals, smearing his slick arousal onto her.

She couldn't stop looking. Even with both hands wrapped around him, she still couldn't cover all of it.

Her small fingers squeezed, tracing the thick veins, feeling how the rigid flesh burned hot under her petite hands. Her belly fluttered when she realized just how high his tip reached; almost to her belly button, like a monster lurking beneath her navel, waiting to be let in.

"I expected nothing less," she murmured in fake confidence, lips curling into a wicked smirk. She lifted a hand, bringing it close to her mouth, as if she might sink down and take him between her lips.

But something about lowering her head, about kneeling before a man like him, made her hesitate. She wouldn't debase herself so easily. No, if she was going to pleasure him, she'd do it on her terms.

So, instead, she spat into her palm before wrapping her hand around his rigid shaft and stroking him.

The squelching sound filled the space between them as she stroked, her spit glistening over every inch of his enormous cock. She coated him again and again, dragging her fingers over the pulsing veins, squeezing just right, feeling the way he twitched and grew even harder beneath her touch.

Robert let out a rumbling groan, his hips jerking slightly, thick thighs tensing beneath her.

She kept her eyes locked on his, never breaking contact, letting him see exactly how willing she was, how much she wanted to claim him for herself. Then she made the mistake of looking down again.

That thick, swollen crown alone was enough to make her stomach clench. The way it throbbed, glistening and engorged, sent a pulse of fear and lust straight to her core. Would it even fit?

"Mmmh…" She hummed, licking her lips.

Finally, she shifted, rising onto her knees, guiding his thick swollen flesh with her hand. The bulbous cockhead pressed against her entrance felt hot, demanding, already stretching her pink pussy lips before he even truly entered.

The moment his knob parted her soaked lips, she gasped. A sharp, shuddering cry tore straight from her throat. "Ohhh… Fff—ahhh… Gods! So... Bi–gaahhh!"

Her body trembled, and her walls clenched tight. Her pussy throbbed around the slightest peek of his cockhead, her sopping lower lips struggling against the sheer size of him. She swallowed hard, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

It felt rabid, invading, as if she was being split apart by something that shouldn't even fit. She had taken men before, had felt them inside her, willingly or unwillingly. But this? This was something else. Even when she was soaked, dripping, aroused by him, his sheer size threatened to tear her open.

And she hadn't even taken him in yet.

Robert smirked at her face as if challenging her and crossed his arms behind his head. He reveled in the beautiful view, her heaving breasts, her gasping mouth. And those eyes, wide, glistening with both arousal and something close to fear.

Slowly, Daenerys took him in, inch by inch, her tight little cunt struggling to stretch around him. She felt every thick ridge of his cock as her walls clenched in resistance, only to be forced apart. She rose slightly, wincing at the sting, then sank down again, deeper this time. Her breath started to pant, her delicate fingers pressed into his chest as she struggled to take more of him. But she couldn't imagine taking all of him.

Robert watched, amused. His smirk widened as he reached for her shimmering breasts. His large, calloused hands spread over her pale mounds, kneading her pale bosom, though they weren't nearly enough to fill his palms. He made do, rolling her stiff, rosy nipples between his thick fingers before flicking them.

"Oh–ummh…" Daenerys jerked with a choked moan.

By then, she had barely taken half of his cock, and it was already too much for her tight, soaked slit. She shuddered, collapsing against him, her body folding forward until her head landed beneath his chin. Her breaths came out in desperate, shivering pants, her walls trembling wildly around the sheer girth splaying her open.

Robert chuckled, feeling her struggle. He could feel the little twitches of her cunt, the way it squeezed him like she was still trying to force him out.

"Let me help," he murmured, his voice dripping with wicked amusement.

His wide hands gripped her asscheeks; full, round, and deliciously firm beneath his rough palms. He lifted her effortlessly, her body light as a ragdoll in his grasp. His cock slipped free from her drenched hole, slick and glistening with her arousal, throbbing in salute as he adjusted her position.

Then, with a slow, deliberate thrust of his hips, he drove himself right back in, claiming her tight, Targaryen pussy.

"Aaaaah!" Daenerys's scream was sharp, her back arching as he filled her deeper than ever before. Her thighs trembled violently. "S-Slow!"

Robert was already going slow, agonizingly so. His fingers sank into the soft flesh of her ass, kneading her as he moved, rolling his hips up, compelling her to take more and more of him. Each deliberate shove pushed past every last bit of tightness still left in her, stretching her wider, ruining her inch by inch, claimed by her greatest enemy.

And by the gods, she felt it all. Pain and lust melding together inside her, as her pussy dribbled out in aid of him.

Daenerys moaned helplessly, her breath came out in long gasps. She had no control, no power to stop him from taking her, from making her take all of his pulsating manhood whether she could handle it or not.

Her lips parted, desperate for something, anything, to keep herself from going crazy. With a needy little whimper, she lowered her mouth to his chest, pressing her tongue flat against his hot, sweaty skin. She licked at his nipple, sucking lightly, her moans vibrating against his flesh. Her exhales came in soft, frantic bursts, each one filled with submission.

Robert groaned at the sensation, his cock twitching inside her.

Her body was his to use, his to claim. And yet, something in her shifted. Perhaps it was the way he handled her so easily, or the way he filled her completely, but somewhere between those slow, deep thrusts, Daenerys found herself surrendering to desire.

She let out a shaky breath and pushed herself up.

Robert's dark brows rose slightly as she sat back, her hands supporting her own body as her hips moved. Her fingers traced over her stomach, then higher, cupping her own breasts. She kneaded them, pinching her stiff nipples, moaning as she began to ride the stallion of a man.

She rose on his cock, slow and deliberate, letting it drag against every sensitive inch of her, before lowering her pussy again. His cock went deeper, until she was completely speared on his unforgiving length.

Then again.

And again.

A rhythm was formed, a sinful dance as old as time. She tossed her silver hair back, shaking it free from her shoulders, her moans growing louder as she rode him in slow, rolling waves. "Ummh… Ohhh… Yess…"

Robert groaned, watching, feeling the way her slick walls clenched around him with each bounce of her perfect ass. His hands found her thighs, squeezing hard into her flesh. The squeezes of her pussy, the brush of her wet flesh as his cock churned inside her, all of it threatened to swallow him whole.

But he wasn't going to let her control him that easily. His hips kept jerking up, nudging her cervix with his bulbous tip over and over.

Suddenly, her body tensed. A high-pitched, shattered cry tore from her lips as pleasure slammed through her.

Her cunt quivered around him, clamping down in violent, wet squelches while he kept thrusting up. Her thighs trembled against his sides, her nails raking down his chest as she came with a mind-numbing, uncontrollable climax. Her whole body was shaking in the blissful agony of it all.

"Ahhhhh!"

Her trembling body finally slumped forward against his broad chest, breathless, still quivering in the aftershocks of her climax.

But Robert wasn't done. His lust burned too hot, too wild. His hands found her hips, and with a guttural growl, he drove up into her once more. Hard, fast, unrelenting.

"Oooooh!" Daenerys moaned out a breath.

His thick shaft plundered her, hammering deep, stretching her ruined walls even wider as he fucked her mindlessly. His balls slapped against her soaked slit with every thrust, the squelching and obscene sound of their flesh colliding filling the room.

She felt it, every brutal inch reaching places he had no right to, tearing her apart until he slammed to the hilt, shoving against the very entrance of her womb. She could almost feel her insides shifting, rammed deeper into her. In utter sense, he was ruining her.

"Argh… There…" Robert growled through clenched teeth, his cock throbbing, his peak nearing.

"No!" Daenerys gasped, panic flashing in her violet eyes. The thought of him spilling his potent seed inside her sent a jolt of fear down her spine. She was a queen, far too blue-blooded to accept his seed.

She yanked herself off his impaling cock, her thighs trembling as she scrambled between his legs. His cock, slick with her juices, throbbed furiously in the open air, aching, pulsing, desperate.

Still, she understood a man's need.

Her hands wrapped around his monstrous shaft; both hands, stroking, twisting, churning him fast and rough. Whenever her grip ran dry, she spat in her palms, keeping it wet, slick, sinful. Her fingers danced over his veins, squeezing at the swollen head, milking him, coaxing him toward release.

She smirked up at him, her expression wicked, teasing. "Y-You can… have more… a lot more… of this," she panted, licking her swollen lips. "And more."

"Argh… Aye…" Robert grunted, his massive chest heaving. The sight of her pale and flushed face framed by those damp silver strands, her hands so petite against the sheer size of him; only pushed him closer to the edge.

But Daenerys wasn't the only one desperate. Her cunt still throbbed, still gaping from his brutal fucking. She felt empty without him, ruined yet yearning, her body betraying her with a dull, aching need.

"Arrrrg… There… you go!"

Finally, Robert roared, his whole body tensing as he exploded. Thick, hot ropes of his seed shot out, painting her hands, her wrists, but that wasn't all. The next spurt landed straight across her cheek, streaking up to her forehead. More followed, splattering onto her parted lips, her chin, and dripping down her throat in creamy trails.

Daenerys flinched at the first shot, recoiling slightly before her lips curled into a breathless grin. She should have expected this. She did. But not quite like this. Still, she didn't stop. Her hands kept stroking, milking him, squeezing out every last drop until his virile length gave one final, shuddering throb.

Panting, spent, Robert finally relaxed back against the mattress, utterly drained.

Daenerys released his cock, fingers slick with his seed, and wiped them against the ruined bedsheets. She then grabbed her discarded dress, using it to wipe her face clean before collapsing beside his massive frame.

She wanted to discuss matters, but her body betrayed her. Too sore, too spent. Her lashes fluttered closed, her breathing slowing into soft, purring sighs as sleep claimed her instantly.

Robert, hearing her sleeping breath, stared at the ceiling. If there was any doubt, he was now sure that there was no Robert in him other than the name. The true Robert would have killed Daenerys on sight.

Not fuck her passionately.

And even worse. Desire more.

Astapor and Yunkai it is.

He looked down at her perfect, beautiful face resting on his arm, looking towards him in serene calm. Her beauty truly struck him as unique. Sadly, he knew that what lay within her mind mattered the most.

One! I'll give you one final chance to prove me wrong. Prove to me you're not cursed with madness.