The End of the Beginning
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(Circa 296AC)
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I couldn’t help but smile as Sarisa shifted in my arms, granting me a tired little gargle as one hand gripped my pinkie. My youngest sibling had inherited the vibrant purple eyes from our mother, and the straight dark hair from Oberyn, yet she was the first female blood relative through House Dayne that I knew of to not use a name starting with an ‘A’. My mother and sisters had that, as did Aliandra – or Alia as I called her – who was sitting nearby playing with my Aunt Allyria. Though, as Sarisa was a Martell and not a Dayne by birth, the name was a logical choice as it was the one Oberyn’s mother, the former Princess of Dorne, had borne. While we all shared the purple eyes of House Dayne, mine were of a different shade, something my mother continued to find amusing and I knew was the result of Blood of the Dragon’s Flames.
That trait, and The Wolfs-blood, kindled forth an even fiercer desire to protect my sisters, mother, and aunts. They were my family, and I’d burn and shred the world to protect them. Of course, I had extended family, such as my stepsisters and cousins, and I certainly felt a desire to protect them as well. Which was part of the reason why I’d snapped so badly back on the road to White Harbour following Ty and Alysanne’s decision. While Ty was paying for her choice with time with the Silent Sisters, Alysanne seemed to have escaped any punishment. Or at least it looked that way as Ned had allowed her to travel to Sunspear after some letters between the pair. I had little doubt he’d punish her once she returned, but I was still at a loss as to why he allowed her to travel with Beron to Sunspear. Still, I doubted Lord Wyman was complaining as it gave him an excellent opportunity to have Wylla spend time around Beron without any Northern daughters present to fight for his attention. Though there was a chance Beron might fall for a Dornish girl, I felt he’d eventually wed and bed – though perhaps not in that order – Wylla, securing a good match for himself and his house.
Another soft gargle from Sarisa made my smile spread further as I gently rocked her as she slowly settled before sleeping.
“You seem remarkably at ease with your sister, nephew.” Without lifting my head, I looked over at Allyria. She was kneeling on the carpet with Alia next to her. While my other sister was playing with a doll, my eyes were locked on my aunt. The dress she wore was one popular in Sunspear and was so thin that it only hid the finer details of what lay beneath. Like Arianne and others, Allyria wore almost nothing underneath meaning my eyes had much to feast upon. Allyria’s lips twitched as she saw what I was looking at. “How long will it be before the babe you hold in your arms is one of your own?”
As I felt Sarisa stop shifting around, I smirked at my aunt. “Is that, perhaps, an offer to help with such a venture?” While I knew I shouldn’t flirt with my aunt, not least as she was now betrothed to a March Lord from the Stormlands, Allyria had all my mother’s beauty and was the same age as Ari. As for her betrothed, Beric Dondarrion was slightly older than her, but there wouldn’t be a wedding until my cousin Arran, who was serving as a page – and would later become squire – for Beric Dondarrion, was knighted.
The young knight had recently become lord of Blackhaven following the death of his father to sickness while I’d been in the North. I’d been surprised the wedding hadn’t already taken place, but Beric had two younger brothers who could inherit if he died – and Allyria would marry if that happened – and as the kingdom was at peace, there was no push to have the wedding take place quickly.
As Allyria looked away, her cheeks reddening, I once more considered Beric a lucky man and not for the first time considered if I might end up claiming my aunt’s maidenhood before she was wed. Ari had made several comments about how many of her handmaidens and friends were attracted to me. Ari hadn’t said anything concrete about Allyria being interested, but the way she reacted to my flirting made it clear she was conflicted. A part of me feared I only wished to bed my aunt as she reminded me of my mother, though I felt the larger part wanted her simply because outside of Ari, in my eyes, no other girl in Sunspear was as beautiful. Oh, Ty before she’d left – Nymeria and Asha certainly knew how to turn heads, as did others like Jynessa Blackmont and Jelissa Fowler, however whenever Ari mentioned bringing one of her handmaidens to bed with us, my thoughts normally turned to my aunt.
Of course, based on Ari’s comments, I suspected she’d already bedded most of her handmaidens, which sent many enticing images racing around my head whenever I saw her with them. And while Jynessa and Jelissa had made remarks in my presence that hinted that they were interested, Allyria hadn’t. Just as she didn’t respond to my flirting now as she kept her gaze on Alia.
Knowing full well that Allyria wouldn’t respond to my flirting, and with Saria now snoozing, I stood slowly and made my way over to her cot. Once she was inside and not about to start bawling about the lack of contact with me, I turned. As I did, I saw Allyria watching, a faint smile on her face. I turned, planning to head back to my chair, only to find Alia at my feet, her doll forgotten as she reached up for me. Yet, before I could reach down for her, the door to the room swung open.
“Mummy!” Alia called out as my mother stepped inside. As she knelt to collect my sister, I saw Oberyn behind her, one of his typical ‘I-know-something-you-don’t-know’ smirks on his face.
“Hello little one,” my mother said as she stood, Alia happily snuggling into her arms. “Are you being good for your brother and aunt?” Alia nodded enthusiastically, which made me smile.
Oberyn came around Ashara and tapped Alia on the nose. That got her attention, and she reached out for him. “Carry!” she demanded.
“If I had but time my darling,” Oberyn replied as my mother moved over to Allyria. “However, mummy and I need to speak with Cregan about a private matter.” He turned his gaze upon me. “one he has avoided since we returned from the North.”
I nodded, understanding what he meant even as my mother handed a reluctant, but thankfully quiet, Alia to Allyria. Once done, she turned to face me, and I knew that I couldn’t avoid revealing my magic to her any longer. It’d been about a week since Ty had left and I’d been avoiding this talk with my mother. While revealing my magic to Doran was a relatively simple matter, every time I considered how to bring the matter to my mother, I backed away. While I doubted that she’d reject me, the gnawing concern she might lingered in my thoughts. Though it seemed Oberyn had grown tired of my reluctance and was now forcing the matter.
“Right,” I muttered and moved toward the door. My mother and Oberyn fell into step behind me, and I could feel my mother’s eyes bore into the back of my skull. Oberyn, I was certain, hadn’t mentioned why I needed to speak with her, only that I had to. Thankfully, I’d been preparing for this meeting ever since confirming my magic to Oberyn, so I was – I hoped – prepared for it.
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With a deft twist of my wrist, the firebird – which I refused to call a phoenix even if Ari felt that was the proper name – under my command, banked sharply to the right. It elegantly twisted past the oncoming water-serpent, which Ari controlled, and sped past it. The fiery talons of my creation extended hissing steam as they traced a path along the serpent's sleek form.
Across the room, Ari's her furrowed brow made irritation was palpable. Though her power in Water Magic matched my prowess in Fire Magic, her mastery in crafting and manipulating magical beasts lagged. Her serpent's tail flicked out in pursuit of my firebird as it zipped past though, a testament to her steady improvement.
The firebird's talons reached down, grazing the serpent's head as it passed again, releasing another hiss of steam. Though the serpent remained unharmed, the gesture served to underscore that while Ari was making strides in her magical control, the finesse I possessed still eluded her.
A restrained applause from my right reminded me of our audience. In the concealed chamber beneath the Tower of the Sun, we were joined by Doran, Oberyn, Ashara, Nymeria, Sarella, and Alysanne. Ari and I had reason to confer with Doran about the latter two's magical potential. Although initially planned as a private demonstration, Doran's inclinations had been swayed to permit Nymeria, Sarella, and Alysanne to bear witness. My stepsisters were privy to Ari's and my magical talents, and Alysanne was aware of mine, making Doran's calculated decision a less risky gamble, yet one he was prepared to undertake.
Doran's readiness to include Alysanne troubled me slightly. It led me to wonder whether he and Oberyn entertained the notion that Ned Stark may not be her true father. Should they have deduced Rhaegar's connection to her, there was concern they might manipulate her for their purposes. Though I held no dread of them inflicting harm, such actions would align them with Tywin Lannister's cruelty in permitting the Mountain's atrocities against Elia Martell.
Regardless of their motives, Oberyn promptly decreed upon our entry that we were to refrain from discussing today's revelations and conversations without the presence of others. This oath was held unless we could ensure absolute privacy. Having already secured such commitments from my stepsisters and cousin, their concurrence was almost guaranteed. My mother's gaze, however, fell upon me with a mixture of reproach and concern, a recurring pattern in the days since my magic had been unveiled.
Since baring my magical abilities to her, her demeanour alternated between chilly detachment and intimate concern. Such oscillation was expected, given the world-shaking revelation. Just yesterday, we had revisited the topic, with her avowal that while uncertain about the implications of my magical potential, she was certain that I posed no danger to our kin or, as the Faith's teachings might insinuate, a pact-bound consort of demons. Her affirmation provided solace, yet her ongoing internal struggle was obviously further stoked by witnessing Princess Arianne's magical aptitude.
The plan for this demonstration had been divulged by Doran days in advance, affording Ari and me the opportunity to choreograph our exhibition. Ari initially suggested a confrontation involving magical projectiles, an idea promptly quashed, given the potential lethality of hurling fireballs and the taxing nature of maintaining magical spheres as weapons. Consequently, we opted for the manifestation of elemental creatures as a showcase of our powers. Ari had only just begun training with her serpent in preparation, and although her progress was evident, fatigue crept into her movements as her body was drained of energy. The serpent's markings began to blur as she grappled to maintain control.
Time blurred as we engaged in this spectacle, though its duration was difficult to ascertain, engrossed as I was in guiding my firebird. While Ari appeared increasingly fatigued, my magical reserves remained at forty per cent, gradually diminishing. While this approach was simpler than hurling fireballs, it demanded exactitude and concentration to give form to the creatures shaped from elemental energy. This ritual served as an indispensable exercise to cultivate my Fire Magic. And I felt the transition to Water and Earth Magic was going to be simple, but Wind Magic would necessitate a more imaginative approach. Such explorations were reserved for another day, as a mere flick of my finger and a flexing of internal energy directed the firebird to bank sharply with one wing, eluding Ari's serpent as its watery fangs flashed past.
"Watch it!" Nymeria's call disrupted my thoughts as the firebird skimmed over our observers, nearly within swatting range. A smirk curled my lips as I manipulated the firebird to veer away, dodging Nymeria's half-hearted attempts to bat it down.
The brief satisfaction was broken as Ari's serpent lunged at the returning firebird. In response, I conjured a manoeuvre I had held in reserve. My fingers extended, and the firebird split into streams of fire, allowing the serpent to pass through unscathed, then seamlessly melded back together as the serpent's tail trailed behind. Ari appeared caught off-guard by my tactic, neglecting to employ her serpent's tail to swipe at either part of the firebird.
As the firebird reunited, my gaze shifted to Ari. She was visibly winded, her gown clinging to her form in the aftermath of exertion and her legs trembling. My musings strayed momentarily, drifting to the night prior, and the exploration of her body. Recognizing the need to conclude this before her stubbornness actually harmed her, I flicked my wrist, propelling the firebird toward the princess.
Ari's eyes widened, arms instinctively crossing before her in a gesture of apprehension. The firebird swooped towards her, halting merely inches from her face. Her shock was palpable, her gaze locked onto the hovering creature. Simultaneously, her serpent surged toward me, its appearance changing as it thickened and lost its markings.
Determined to evade a soaking, I lunged sideways, narrowly dodging the surge of water that collided with the wall behind me. As I regained my bearings, Ari's gaze remained fixated on me. She struggled to stand, her eyes betraying both awe and fear induced by the firebird's near approach. Though my firebird had momentarily lost shape due to my evasive manoeuvre, it persisted in emulating a hovering bird, two amorphous wing-like masses fluttering beside its central form.
With the display over, I clenched my fist, the fire hovering near Ari imploding with a small pop as I stood. Outside of moving and controlling flames over Red Rain, maintaining the firebird – including the finer details like hints of feathers, eyes, and talons – was the most impressive usage of my magic. However, it was more of a party trick than something useful for combat. Though that was something that had grown increasingly irksome as I neared level 100. Though as I stood, I saw a blinking blue light in the corner of my vision.
“Here,” Oberyn said as he came over with a mug in hand. I happily took the mug and gulped down the Dornish wine inside. While I wasn’t as tired as Ari was – she was already looking for a second refill and had sat down to lean against the wall – I knew using magic that long was an exertion. Plus, drinking gave me time to open and examine the notice from my Interface.
Level Up!
Fire Magic is now Level 100.
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WARNING!
Fire Magic has reached a plateau.
To increase it further, you must find a way to connect with the flames in a deeper, more instinctual way.
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WARNING!
Fire Magic cannot progress to its 2nd tier of abilities until the ********* event occurs.
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I bit back a groan at what I read as it would be odd to do so in my current situation. Still, as I lowered the cup from my lips, I looked up at the ceiling, taking a moment to process what the Interface had stated.
I suspected something like this would happen when I reached level 100, but I’d have preferred it not to be the case. Nor, I felt, would I enjoy the method I’d need to use to unlock the higher levels. Unlocking the other elements involved meditating in places was a strong resonance with them. For Fire Magic, that might well be dangerous.
“A most impressive display.” I turned, pushing aside thoughts on the next stage in my Fire Magic as Doran spoke. He was standing near Ari as she passed her cup to Nymeria. “What you have shown today while lacking in worldly application, was a display of finesse and control I doubt many could manage. Certainly not,” he looked at his daughter, “with only a few years of practice or,” he turned to me, “while having to hide your gifts from everyone at a young age.” I nodded, accepting his praise. “That said, from this day on, both of you and most of us here, and perhaps a select few others, will find time to practise. Most of us have unlocked our gifts,” as he spoke, he raised his hand, and I watched as the wine in Ari’s cup floated upward. “and those that haven’t soon will. With you two to guide us, and the resources of House Martell fully behind you, I expect us to all improve at far greater rates.”
“Yes, Father.” Yes, my Prince.” Ari and I spoke together, which made Doran’s smile grow before he turned his full attention to me.
“Now, Cregan. Beyond simply being able to manipulate fire and water, you have another gift to show us. One that, bar perhaps Lady Snow,” Alysanne blushed as everyone glanced her way, “none of us can ever learn. Do you require time to recuperate, or might you be able to begin the second section of the day's presentation?”
I glanced at my MP and saw it was sitting at around thirty per cent. While that was low, it would be more than enough for a short demonstration of my Skinchanging. Not least as my bond with Kaa was at level 9 now, having climbed a few days after I’d returned to Sunspear. “I should be fine to continue now, my Prince. However, I am unsure of how long I will be able to hold the connection so perhaps we might keep the demonstration short?”
“I doubt anything more than a short demonstration will be needed, son,” Oberyn commented as he moved toward the door of this chamber. There, he picked up a basket and brought it toward me.
Normally I’d use Rian for this reveal, but being underground I felt Kaa was the better choice today. Plus, outside of Ty, none had seen me skinchange into the snake. As I stood, Alysanne came over, offering her help to move. I smiled at her and waved away the offer as even though slightly weak I was fine to walk on my own. As Oberyn moved the basket closer, I wondered how those who didn’t know about my Skinchanging – Doran, Alysanne, and my mother – would react. And how long it would take for someone to point out the amusing fact that while I was a Stark by blood, the first animal I’d bonded with bore a name linked with Oberyn.
Even as Oberyn lifted the lid from the basket, I could feel my mind sliding into Kaa’s, sensing once more the world in that odd thermal way he did. Of the three animals I’d bonded to, Kaa’s was the most foreign, and I was glad that I’d never managed to eat anything while in his mind. From a story Old Nan had told in Winterfell, it seemed that was something that skinchangers were meant to avoid and it was only by luck and lack of time, that I’d not done so in either Kaa or Rian.
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“Here we are, my Lord.”
Ignoring the Master Bowyer's repeatedly calling me a lord, I accepted the recurve bow he offered. My hand fit snugly into the grip black snakeskin grip, and as I examined the weapon from every angle, I couldn't help but be enraptured by its beauty. The flowing red streaks that ran through the white weirwood were mesmerising, like the lifeblood of ancient gods, giving it an almost ethereal appearance. My eyes were inevitably drawn to the intricately carved tips, fashioned into the shape of wolf's heads with snarling mouths holding the strings, each detail of their fur had been painstakingly etched into the wood. The heads were dyed in the signature burnt orange of House Martell, with eyes that gleamed like black gems - perhaps obsidian.
I was enamoured by the exquisite craftsmanship of the bow. As I lifted it and tested the string with a few draws, I could feel the impressive tension that set it apart from others of comparable size. The weight felt perfect in my hand, and I knew that it would be a joy to shoot. Lowering the bow, I turned back to the Master bowyer and addressed him with genuine admiration. "Master Chrestan, this is truly a work of art."
Chrestan returned my smile and lowered his head. “My thanks, my Lord. It is the first time I have worked with weirwood. While firmer than other, more common woods in Westeros, it was easy to see the lines the bow would be formed from in the grain. Still, there remains much of the wood. Not enough for another bow of this size, but possibly for a pair of single-handed crossbows, or maybe handles for an axe or similar weapon. Even after that is done, I suspect enough wood will remain that an artisan might be able to make something from it.”
He gestured to a table just inside his shop and as I looked there, I saw the remaining wood. While I knew little about making such things, it was clear even to me that Chrestan was telling the truth. There existed two parts of the original branch that were perhaps an arm long, along with smaller pieces around them. I also noted that he’d followed my instructions and bagged most, if not all, of the shavings from the branch. While I doubted that I’d ever find a use for them, some of the tales I’d heard and read in Winterfell spoke of Greenseers using a paste made of weirwood. I had no interest in becoming a Greenseer, I felt safer having the shavings stored than simply tossed away when Chrestan cleaned up his workshop.
I moved toward the table, planning to collect the leftover wood and shavings only to stop when one of Chrestan’s assistants came closer. I watched as he unrolled a blanket to reveal a collection of about a dozen weirwood arrows. Surprised by them, I picked one up in my free hand – the other still holding my new bow – and looked it over. The head was a thin tapering bodkin of darkened steel while the fletching was white like the shaft.
“As you can see, my Lord, from some of the longer, thinner shavings I was able to craft arrows of the same wood. I am unsure of if there will be any difference to woods normally used for arrows, but I considered it a worthwhile endeavour to create.”
“I am certain they will fly true,” I replied as I placed the arrow back with its brethren and then turned to him, my smile widening. “You have done masterful work.” I pulled a small pouch from my belt and passed it to him. “For your work,” I said as he took it. The pouch contained the rest of the payment for the bow, along with a bonus which I’d already planned to pay if the bow was as I expected. With the delivery of the arrows, the bonus was now guaranteed.
“Thank you, my Lord.” He took the pouch and then turned to his assistant. After giving them a nod, he moved away, and I watched as the assistant carefully re-wrapped the arrows and then started placing the leftover wood into a second sack.
“If you could, have it all delivered to the palace.”
“Yes, mi’lord,” the assistant replied with a nod. With that, I turned and moved toward the door, which as was normally the case, was wide open to let cooler air into the workshop.
I smiled as I stepped outside and turned the bow over in my hand once more.
“I hope you are not thinking just because you got a fancy new bow that you will be able to outshoot me.”
I turned and smiled at the speaker, and my company for my trip into the Shadow City today. “And what, dear sister, are you willing to wager on that belief?” I asked Sarella who stood from a bench she’d been sitting on to read the current tome she was focused on. This one was by Maester Franklyn and dealt with medicine.
I’d not spent much time with her since my return, what I had was spent either discussing something from a book she’d read or on the archery range. Like Theon and Alysanne, Sarella was a more accurate archer than me, though for the two girls, on equal bows, I had a range advantage due to my gender and greater strength. Honestly, I’d love to see Sarella take on Theon, especially if she used the goldenheart bow Oberyn had gifted her for her last nameday. That bow was easily superior to anything else in the palace, though I hoped my new weirwood bow would close that gap some, if not entirely.
Sarella’s eyes wandered from my face, taking in my frame and the loose, gold silks held closed by the snakeskin wrapped around my waist. Due to the heat – and at Ari’s insistence – I wore it open to my chest and as my stepsister’s eyes drifted over me, I caught a spark of desire flash in her eyes. “Perhaps, if I were to emerge victorious, you might place yourself at my disposal for a night and day?” she suggested as her eyes returned to mine.
“And if, by some miracle of the Gods, I win? What would be my reward?” I asked as I moved closer to her, letting my eyes wander to her as her’s had just done for me. While Sarella wasn’t as interested in dressing to distract as Ty, Ari, and Nymeria did, she was still beautiful with an exotic beauty unmatched by any of Oberyn’s other daughters.
Sarella smirked. “If you do somehow win, then the terms would be reversed. For a day and night, I would be at your disposal, for whatever you so desired.” As she finished, she placed her hand on my exposed chest.
I chuckled as I placed my hand on hers. “With an offer such as that, how could I refuse?” I said even as my mind wandered to what she might look like out of that dress. I stepped back, lifting her hand from my chest, and turned, though as I did, I let the tip of my new bow slap her on the arse. “I do hope your thoughts remain on the archery, and not on any stories your sister or cousin might have said about my prowess.”
“And what stories might those be?” Sarella shot back as I let her hand rest on my forearm. There was no hint on her face that she understood my comments, but the spark that danced in her eyes made it clear she did. I smirked as I realised that Oberyn or any of his older daughters could well convince a Septon that the deserts of Dorne were tears of the Seven and get them to drink those tears.
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“Ones I have little doubt warm you each night when you retire to your chamber.” As I replied, I took a step, moving us away from Master Chrestan’s workshop. “However, let us place such thoughts, and what we might do when victorious to one side. The day is young and before we return to the palace, I would enjoy a walk with one of my beautiful sisters through the city. Perhaps, if the mood takes me, I might even purchase something from a passing merchant that catches your eye.”
I felt her fingers lightly move on my arm. “With an offer such as that, how could I refuse?”
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As my steed trotted through the outer gates of Sunspear, I turned and looked back at my companions. Behind me, Beron, Trystane, and Edric Dayne followed, and at their tail were a dozen guards from Sunspear. While Oberyn had little issue with me taking Trystane out on this trip without any escort – since it was only a half-day’s ride from the city – Doran was reluctant to let his youngest travel without escort. That went doubly for the heir to Starfall and the second son of Lord Eddard Stark. Still, the guards were under orders to keep their distance from the four of us unless the situation required it.
Beron was closer to me than the other two, which made sense as he was both older and they were friends who’d spent the last few years growing up together. Still, while that had been the case, with Quentyn off in Yronwood, Beron had slowly slotted into the group gathered around Prince Trystane. Though that didn’t stop him from trying to follow me around the palace whenever he could. Especially if I was in the yard or playing with Ymir.
Still, even though there were a dozen guards with us, as I saw someone watching us from the palace far above the dunes that surrounded the city, I wondered if assigning me to this trip wasn’t some form of test from Doran. In the moon since we’d returned to Sunspear, and ever since the magic display that I’d put on with Ari, Doran had often brought me in on meetings he held with Oberyn, Ari, and the council that helped him rule Dorne. I was sure there were matters I was excluded from – the status of the Targaryen children in Essos being an obvious example – but a bastard child, even one with links to three old houses in Westeros, was a sign of Doran wanting to use me as a piece in how he played the Great Game.
Part of that was handling magical training for the Martells and Sand Snakes over a certain age. Trystane, Elia, and Obella Sand hadn’t yet been brought in on the training, but I had little doubt they would soon. As would, if I could wangle it, Beron. While I doubted that he could use elemental magic, I had little doubt he was a Skinchanger in waiting. Of course, if he did unlock that ability, then he – along with Alysanne – would first need to practice on random animals around the palace before gaining a companion of their own. I had concerns that because they would be here until 299AC they’d miss the chance to gain a direwolf, or at least bond with them from the off. As such, I was putting some thought into which animals would work best for them.
“This way,” I called out as I looked over my charges. My call broke Trystane and Edric from their conversation. From the look on their faces, it seemed I interrupted something they’d rather I not hear. Or it might just be them reacting again to seeing Kaa resting around my neck. With my bond with him being at level 9, and Skinchanging being at level 90, he’d become calm around me. to the point I could handle him without the risk of him reacting and biting me with his fangs. Thus, on occasion – such as this trip – I’d taken to letting him lounge on my shoulders or in a loose bag at my side, I enjoyed having him there, drawing amusement from the wary looks people shot me and revelling in the closeness, while Kaa seemed to enjoy the warmth.
Many in Sunspear seemed uncertain about seeing such a venomous – and large for his breed – snake having such freedom, but Oberyn was fine with it so long I didn’t have him too close to the younger children in the palace. Still, since we were heading to Shadystone, and he’d have some free rein, I’d have to keep an eye out and ensure the boys didn’t explore and play too close to where Kaa was wandering.
I went to ask what they’d been discussing – as their faces held that childlike conspiratorial expression kids often bore – only to be cut off by a black blur that reached the upper legs of their horses and raced past them.
Ymir pulled to a stop once alongside my steed as I slipped from the horse’s mind, having calmed him after the sudden appearance of the young predator. The direwolf stayed in the shadow my mount created, hiding from the early morning sun. While it wasn’t hot yet, Ymir disliked the heat here more than the Stark children and seemed to be in a state of permanent panting. At least when we weren’t in the Water Gardens, and he could lounge in one of the shallower pools or inside the palace of Sunspear. Still, to ensure he’d be ok on this trip, I’d brought along extra flagons of water.
Shadystone, which was our destination, was a half-day’s ride from Sunspear so we should get there before midday when the sun would overhead. The holdfast had been abandoned about a century ago when the well supplying it had dried up, though most of the buildings still stood. Even if many were filled with sand.
Still, it was a place Oberyn had taken me and my stepsisters and Arianne on several occasions when we grew up, regaling us with stories of his time in Essos. Hell, Shadystone had been where he’s shown me how to extract venom from a snake or scorpion. I had no intention of teaching that to the boys on this trip, but suspected Oberyn had already taught Trystane how to do so.
Once we arrived there, we’d take shelter in the buildings that still had roofs and some cover from the winds. After a meal – which was being carried by a pack mule back with the guards – we’d wait for the sun to lower and then explore the ruins. Or at least the boys would. I wanted to spend time practising my Wind Magic and Earth Magic. While the latter wasn’t one that I would be focusing on long-term, moving sand around was a subtle way to train it up. However, my main focus would be doing something similar with Wind Magic. I’d only trained it a little since gaining Wind Compatibility, but I wanted to push it harder, at least until I discovered how exactly to move Fire Magic beyond level 100. Later, once the sun began to set, we’d return to Sunspear.
When I’d come here after visiting Braavos, I’d wondered why Dorne didn’t use camels and mentioned that to Oberyn since I’d seen a pair in the Sealord’s Menagerie. Oberyn had scoffed at my suggestion, proclaiming that a Sand Steed was a better mount than a camel for anything bar cargo. He did mention later that there had been attempts to bring them over as beasts of burden centuries ago, though only a third had survived the voyage from Essos. Then it had been quickly discovered that horses hated being anywhere near a camel, so the remaining experiment was ended and if any camels still lived in Dorne they were only used in places horses didn’t venture.
A whimper from Ymir refocused my thoughts and as I looked down at him, with his tongue hanging out of his mouth, I chuckled. “I did try to get you to stay with the Princess in the palace.” Ymir shook his head, sending snot flying. “Fine, but you had better not spend the entire trip whining about the heat and begging for water.”
As I shifted my sight back to what was ahead of me, my eyes caught the glint of my spurs. While I wasn’t wearing anything approaching full armour for this day trip, I did have on my boots. Attached to them were my spurs, which since I was now a knight, were gilded instead of silver – which signified that I had been a squire. Oberyn had presented them to me in front of my mother, Ari, and Doran, giving a speech that was heartfelt and proud. The gaining of gilded spurs was one of the things that marked out a knight, the other being a sigil.
I was uncertain about that, but Ari – in conjunction with Alysanne – had promised to create something that I’d love. I was curious to see what they’d come up with, even if a part of me feared some sort of abomination that used elements from Houses Dayne, Martell, and Stark and in the process butchered everything. The idea of something that drew equally on the symbols and colours of all three houses sounded deranged. Hopefully, the girls would create something usable that wouldn’t be ridiculed.
Ahead of me, there was a wide, paved track though sand blew across it. I knew that within an hour to travel, it would be harder to see the path, especially once we reached the fork for Shadystone. In the skies ahead I saw Rian circle around, no doubt on the lookout for prey. While he was well fed in the palace – with Elia and Wylla especially enjoying throwing him strips of dried meat that he’d catch out of the air – I could always sense the desire to hunt living prey. Rian wouldn’t be going with us today, as there wasn’t much in the way of food there, at least not for him.
Kaa moved around my neck, shifting to ensure more of the sun warmed his scales. No doubt once we reached our destination, he’d slide away either to bathe in the warm sand or, if luck allowed, hunt a stray creature that called the ruins home. While I planned to shift into his mind while there and practise moving silently through the sand and creeping up on people, if he sensed a meal nearby, I’d leave his thoughts. I had no desire to break one of the possible rules of skinchanging, even if I couldn’t deny I was curious how it felt to hunt, kill and eat while in the minds of each of my companions.
… …
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… …
I moved calmly but cautiously through the darkened streets of the Shadow City. It was early in the evening several moons since I’d returned to Sunspear, and while I’d normally not care who saw me, I needed my presence this evening to not be tracked back to the palace. That was why when I’d first left, I’d exited the city via the north gate and after disappearing from view and then returning via the south gate, my appearance changed via a quick clothing change – for me and my horse – and a long cloak.
One thing that stood out as I made my way through the dimly light streets was how people seemed to ignore me. Whenever I came into the city, especially since my return, people smiled and greeted me jovially and merchants hawked their wares to me. Hells, some even offered me discounts due to who I was in the hope of securing my patronage. Some of this was due to my actions – such as saving Arianne from the Iron Born many years ago or having Ymir at my side – but a lot of it came from Oberyn.
The people in Sunspear and the Shadow City liked Doran and Arianne and came out whenever they left the palace, however, they loved Oberyn. The times I’d wandered around the city with my father, people had come out in droves to meet him, and he always found time to stop and speak with them. Merchants and shopkeepers always offered him free food and drink – though he always paid for the food – women made passes at him, even with Ellaria and my mother present, and merchants offered gifts to secure and retain his patronage. Hells, I’d even seen a few of the smallfolk hand their children to him as if his touch could somehow bless them in ways a Septon couldn’t.
Every time I saw or thought of that, I wondered how the city had reacted after his canon death. I did not doubt that when Doran died the city would mourn him, but when Oberyn passed away, I could see much of the city being ablaze with rage and demanding revenge on whoever killed their beloved prince. And depending on when and how I could see the rest of Dorne joining them.
Still, there was none of that adulation or interest in me this evening, which was ideal. I slid past two drunken sailors – from Essos if their dialect of guttural Trade Talk was any indication – happy to see them and others generally ignoring me. Oh, the odd tavern might try to entice me in with a comely wench outside, or small groups might eye me up as an easy mark, but none came close enough to bother me.
As I rounded a building where the drunk sailors were collapsed, I saw my destination, or at least the alley it was in. The Sunset Rose was at the end of the alley, surrounded by other brothels and taverns, yet it drew everyone’s eye. Now, that wasn’t to say that the other services offered in this alley weren’t appealing, and as I moved into the alley, a lovely lass with breasts I could hide my head in tried to tempt me into her establishment. However, the Sunset Rose had always been the premier brothel in Sunspear, a fact that had only grown more pronounced since my last visit.
It seemed Lady Daenora had used the money Oberyn and I had invested into the establishment for partial silent ownership wisely. The outside of the building had been refurbished with new shutters for the windows and a coat of paint over the walls. And it seemed she’d hired more girls and muscle.
I ignored a promise of insane debauchery from one lady of the night as I approached. As tempting as the offer was, I felt I could pull it off with Ari if she convinced enough of her handmaidens to join us. Not that I’d mention it to her as she’d no doubt wonder where I’d heard the idea from. No, my focus was drawn to the three ladies outside the Sunset Rose – and the half dozen large men standing near them and the main entrance – with a particular focus on the smallest, yet most exotic of them.
She didn’t have Sarella’s skin tone – which I’d enjoyed exploring and devouring ever since I’d lost the archery challenge with my new weirwood bow – nor, I doubted her willingness to try anything Sarella had heard in whispered tones or discovered in her books, but this lady had my attention all the same.
She wasn’t the first person from the far east I’d seen in Sunspear, but her sharp, well-defined features and Asian-styled dress – which hugged her figure as if painted on – caught my eye. She spoke Common, though with an accent that marked her, much as her looks did, as foreign. Something I’d had in my former life was a passing interest in Asians, yet I’d never managed to explore that interest.
“Welcome, one and all, to the Sunset Rose,” the girl – who was likely from YiTi – shouted, her voice carrying easily through the others nearby. “The most exquisite and extravagant delights in all of Westeros await you inside. Any and every desire that you might have can be found within our walls. Be you from Westeros, Essos, or beyond, what you desire, we provide.”
I frowned at her sales pitch, wondering just how true that was. While I wasn’t against people making a living from whoring, I drew the line at anyone being forced into the living. My fists clenched as I fought the urge to challenge her if those offers extended to those not yet an adult. It was something I’d have to speak with Lady Daenora about when I returned to the Rose during daylight hours.
Instead of entering the main door, which was guarded by two men who looked taller than me and twice as wide, I moved past the gathered crowd taken in by the spiels given by the YiTi girl and her cohorts, and moved down a side alley. Entering through the front ran the risk of someone recognising me, and given my business here, it was better they didn’t. Now, I could’ve approached the Rose from the back, slipping through the darkened passages that filled the Shadow City, however doing that ran a heightened risk of trouble. While I had faith I could handle anything on the streets, I’d rather avoid any situations that might draw the attention of the City Watch.
I slipped past the Rose, and then angled away as if going to another building. After a few quick turns down narrow alleys barely wide enough for a man to enter, and after passing around a few other buildings, and avoiding one back-alley game of chance, I reached the back of the Rose. After making sure the street was clear as it could be, I moved toward that door and knocked in a set pattern that the guards inside would recognise.
A moment later a shutter on the door pulled back and a pair of angry eyes glared out at me. “An eagle in red requests a meeting with the lady of the house.” The silt closed after I finished, and I moved to the side, scoping out the alley to ensure none were close enough that they might try and storm the door when it opened.
Daenora – who was a knockout with Valyrian features – had been surprised when, during an apparent visit to help me become a man, Oberyn had instead spoken with Daenora about my interest in investing in the Rose. At first, she’d been against it, fearing a complete takeover, but I’d explained what we desired – in a business sense – she’d warmed to the idea. Hells, after our deal was concluded, she noted that we’d purchased her time for another hour and was more than willing to prove how wise our investment was. Oberyn had laughed at that, then stepped outside telling her to teach me how to please a princess. Daenora had done that and more for the rest of the night, and Ari had certainly enjoyed what I’d learnt since then.
Less than a minute after the slit had closed, I heard the door open. Three large men stepped out, blades in hand. The leader, Irraro – a large man from the Summer Isles who had almost a head in height on me – turned my way, though once I pulled my hood back enough that he could see my face, he relaxed. A nod to the others had them step aside and he guided me through the door. The others followed on our heels, only sheathing their blades once the door was closed and bolted shut.
“Lady Daenora is otherwise occupied this evening,” Irraro said. “However, she left instructions that the men you wish to speak with are waiting for you. Top floor, the door with the red bolt upon it.” When he finished, he passed me a small clay token.
I nodded my thanks to him as we stepped out of the dimly lit room – though the guards stayed – into the kitchen. Servants were moving around, preparing food and drink for this evening’s patrons, though none looked our way as Irraro guided me to a small staircase. As I moved up it, he left, returning – I assumed – to the main floor and the patrons there who’d yet to pay for private service. As I passed the door to the first floor, I heard movement from the other side. The loud, happy voices of people left no doubt as to what was going on beyond. The second floor was quieter, which made sense as the rooms there were larger and better insulated to limit how much distraction a patron could have while resting, or whatever it was they were doing, in their room.
I pushed open the door to the third floor, and four guards glanced my way. The closest two placed their hands on the hilt of their weapons but relaxed when I held up the token Irraro had given me. A token that marked me as someone allowed to use the private staircase. I stepped into the corridor on the third floor, looking at the half-dozen doors until I saw the one with the red bolt. As I moved toward it, I heard Daenora’s voice from inside one room and it sounded like she was enjoying herself. Or at least was doing such an outstanding job of faking it that I couldn’t tell the difference. Nor likely could whoever she was with.
“Took you long enough,” a voice said as I opened the door to the red bolt room. My hand was on the hilt of the sword I’d brought with me. While it was nice to feel a weapon there, it wasn’t Red Rain. Even if the blade was a bit short for my tastes, I felt better having the Valyrian Steel weapon with me. However, I couldn’t bring it with me while moving incognito. “Though since the drinks are on you, I can forgive it,” the man finished as I closed the door behind me. “Not that I know who you are.”
I stayed quiet as I moved toward the table the man was sitting at. His feet were up on the table, and he held a mug in one hand, yet the way his eyes followed me made it clear he was naturally wary of others. Hardly a surprise for someone in his line of work. Beside him was another, though their hands were tied, and they had a bag over their head and from the muffled sounds coming from within, were likely gagged.
“You’re not one of those I hired,” I commented as I sat on the far side of the table from the man. “Who are you? How did you learn of my request and who is under the hood?”
“Name’s Bronn,” I was glad the room was barely lit, and my face obscured by my hood otherwise he’d have seen my reaction to hearing his name. “And this here,” his other hand came up holding a length of rope. He pulled it, making the bagged figure grunt. “This is the one you want. Not sure why though.”
My eyes examined his face. He was near a shadow, bone thin and bone hard, with black eyes and black hair and a stubble of beard. Exactly as described in the book “How did you know to contact me?” I asked again since he’d not bothered to answer that the first time.
Bronn shrugged. “There I was, enjoying the company of a lovely lass in Gulltown, wondering where my next payday would come from or what would happen, but a newcomer entered the tavern I was enjoying. He was in a good mood, speaking about an easy payday and buying drinks for all. From there, well he may not have been as discreet as he should be about why he had the influx of coin, or how he planned to earn more.”
I chuckled, amused that by pure chance not only had I met Bronn, but he’d removed those who’d taken my target from the North. Something I’d been of two minds about doing ever since I’d left White Harbour. “And before you… educated this man about the dangers of loose lips, did he perhaps mention when the reward for delivery of the cargo was?” I’d come with extra coin tonight, figuring I might be able to keep the men who completed the mission on retainer if those who completed the mission showed hints of being worth keeping around. If Bronn over-inflated the price, I’d have to negotiate him down, but if he was honest, there was a chance I could get him on a sort of retainer for any odd jobs I couldn’t publicly be seen to be handling.
“Eighty-five Dragons is what they claimed. Though I did have to convince them to first let me in on the deal before they revealed that.” Broon leaned forward, a wolfish smile on his face as he tugged the rope once more. “Or were they lying?”
I pulled the pouch from my belt, or at least the one I’d kept hidden in case a pickpocket tried to get lucky on my way here. “They told true,” I replied as I showed him the pouch. “Provided the cargo is genuine.”
Bronn smiled as he pulled the hood off. The face that was revealed was young, yet slightly worn. He looked to be close to my age, though without my build, and had pale eyes that Roose Bolton was said to possess. The boy’s face was far from appealing though with pink blotchy skin and meaty worm-like lips.
“Wh-where am I?” the boy asked, only seconds after Bronn had removed his gag. That earned him a clout on the head.
I leaned forward, snarling as I spoke. “The better question would be who are you, and how might you earn the right to return home?” I had no intention of doing that, but this bastard didn’t need to know that.
The boy blinked, getting his bearings in the darkly lit room, before focusing and glaring at me. “I’m Ramsay Snow! Son of Roose Bolton! If you do not return me, then my father will find and kill you!” I chuckled at the unexpected backbone Ramsay was showing.
“Oh, I know exactly who your father is, though I doubt he would care about a mad dog such as you,” I said with a smile that only enraged him further. “Though if he wants revenge, he is more than welcome to try. However, I doubt his willingness to travel this far to do so for a bastard son when he has Domeric as his son and heir.”
Ramsay’s eyes darted around the room, likely looking for an exit. There were only two, the door behind me and the window – which was latched shut – on my left; the other side of me from Ramsay. To reach either he’d have to slip free of the rope Bronn was holding him with and then get past at least me. Even if he made the window, we were three floors up. He might survive a fall from that height, but the ground below was cobbled, and he’d likely break an ankle on landing.
“Where is Reek?”
I blinked at hearing Ramsay ask for him. As far as I knew, that was what he called Theon after torturing him. However, it seemed in this world – and I assumed in the books – Reek was an entirely different person. I glanced at Bronn who shrugged.
“No clue,” I said without any care. “No doubt when you were collected this Reek was killed, so by now, his bones will have been picked clean by scavengers.” I turned to Bronn as I continued. “I tire of his whining.”
Bronn nodded and even as Ramsay struggled, the mercenary forced the gag back into the bastard’s mouth. He then pulled the hood back over Ramsay’s face. “Figured you were as sick of looking at him as I am,” he offered once he was finished.
“Aye,” I placed the pouch on the table and held out my hand. Bronn placed the rope there with a smile and scooped up the pouch. “How long will you stay in town?” I asked as he stood, giving the pouch a gentle toss to test its weight before then opening it enough to see the contents.
Bronn shrugged. “Not sure I can say. Never been this far south and before I go, I think I would like to taste a Dornish cunt,” I chuckled at the crude reply. If I planned for Ramsay to live much longer, I’d be annoyed at him for giving away where we were, but since that wasn’t the case, I didn’t care.
“If you are still here when you run out of coin, ask for me again. I might have need of someone with your skills in the future. Though I cannot promise anything currently.”
Bronn chuckled. “If you pay this well, then aye, I may be willing to listen to your offer. First, though, I have got other plans.” He tossed the pouch up slightly and then caught it. “Until we meet again, enjoy your gift.”
I nodded in thanks but kept my eyes – one hand on the hilt of a dagger under my cloak – until the door closed behind him. Once it did, I stood and harshly yanked Ramsay from his chair. Having no warning, and not seeing where he was going, his face crashed into the frame of Bronn’s now-vacated chair, and he groaned as he fell to the floor.
“Come on,” I growled as I pulled him to his feet, drawing another pained moan. Ramsay groaned and muttered into his gag as I reached for the door handle, which had me stop, turn and punch him in the gut.
“If you wish to live longer, be quiet!” Ramsay fell silent after recovering from my blow – which by the sound of it had cracked a rib at least – and let me guide him out onto the floor. The guards paid little mind to me as we moved toward the staff staircase. It took far longer to go down the stairs than up them as I had to ensure Ramsay didn’t fall, or if he did, that he didn’t land on me. While having him slip and break his neck would be a fitting end, I’d paid for his delivery and had no intention of being denied my reward for putting this plan in motion.
Eventually, we reached the ground floor, however, instead of going back the way I came, I went down a narrow corridor. The sounds of people enjoying themselves in the main hall echoed around the corridor, and I saw a few small slits that could be pulled back to allow spying on anyone in the hall. That wasn’t my interest tonight though, and I led Ramsay through the corridor. At the end of it, Irraro was waiting, and he lifted a hatch in the floor.
I bit off a chuckle when Ramsay slipped going down the ladder there and fell into the basement. It wasn’t a big drop so he’d not have broken anything, but the pained groan that came from behind the gag brought a smile to my face. I followed and, once down, pulled him to his feet. The basement was small, though that was all that was needed and with Ramsay’s rope in one hand and a lit torch handed to me by Irraro before he closed the hatch behind us in the other, I dragged my prisoner down the tunnel that started at this basement.
The tunnel was one Lady Daenora had revealed to Oberyn and me after we’d purchased our silent investment and led to a small hut near the docks. It seemed that some customers paid for private entrance into the Shadow City that avoided the gates. Now, I could’ve used the passage to enter the Rose initially, however, I’d decided against it as that would show me coming and going from the hut if anyone was watching and have required me to shift clothing within the city limits.
It took about thirty minutes to reach the hut and emerge onto the docks, with most of that taken up by ensuring Ramsay didn’t fall as we moved. The dock was meant to be deserted at this time of night, with only the odd patrol for the watch going by. And as I looked around, guiding Ramsay with me, I was delighted to discover that was the case.
After reaching an isolated section of the docks, I pulled off the hood. Ramsay’s eyes widened as he took in where we were, and he started panicking. To counter that, I grabbed his hair, pulled him close, and glared at him.
As my other hand pulled my dagger from inside my cloak, I leaned closer and growled. “The Starks send their regards.” When I finished, I drove the dagger into his gut. As he stiffened, I pulled his head back with a hard yank and slashed his throat. As he collapsed to his knees, I cut his hands free and then jammed the dagger into his chest.
I watched stoically as the light left his eyes, and then as he fell back into the waves, making only a gentle splash as he broke the water, I smiled with a vicious joy raving in my veins and turned away.
As I walked away, I threw the rope and hood into the water, just far enough away that they’d not be linked to the body whenever it would be found.
The kill was anticlimactic, however, that was all a rabid dog like Ramsay deserved.
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… …
“What do we do with a drunken sailor, what do we do with a drunken sailor, what do we do with a drunken sailor, early in the morning?”
The lyrics of one of a dozen shanties and songs I’d taught since being reborn greeted me as I stepped onto the deck of the Windchaser, and a chuckle slipped from my lips. While it was nice to hear the crew singing one of my songs, the fact that the sun was slowly setting to the west meant the lyrics didn’t fit the time.
“Oof,” I grunted out as Ymir, a year old and taller than any hunting dog in Sunspear rushed past. Though to be fair, there were few hunting dogs in the palace to compare him to since Sunspear was surrounded by desert and ocean. “Ymir!” He stopped and looked back at me, his head hanging to one side as he did. “Why so pushy?”
He pushed his head higher and sniffed the ear and then what passed for a grin appeared. I pushed some hair that had been blown into my face out of the way and chuckled. “Fine then. Head up there,” I pointed to the foredeck, “and stay out of the way as you enjoy the evening air.”
He snorted in happiness before turning and bounding off, slipping through the crew on the deck with an ease one wouldn’t expect of such a large beast. Of course, inside another year or so, he’d not be able to slip through so easily. Or possibly move on the ship without needing people to move for him. Based on his mother’s height, he’d be at least the size of a horse, though with how Kaa and Rian were larger/longer/bigger than their breeds were known to be, I always wondered just how large Ymir was going to get. And how downright terrifying to others he’d be.
As my mind drifted to my other companions, my thoughts moved to Rian. About two moons ago he’d taken off and not returned. While he did take long flights at times, when it passed two nights I reached out to his mind. He was distant, but I could sense he was safe, and that he was with someone. Not another human, but, if I was understanding what I was sensing correctly, another Sunfyre eagle. His species, from what I’d read, didn’t mate until they were six, yet it seemed he’d found a mate a few years earlier than normal. A few days ago, I’d sensed a shift in his feelings and suspected he was returning. Since he seemed pleased, I felt he’d not lost his possible mate but was perhaps bringing her back to Sunspear to nest. If that was the case, it was going to be interesting to watch and experience how he handled and felt during the birth of a chick.
I turned on the deck, pushing thoughts of Rian and his possible mate to one side, and turned them to the ladies on the quarterdeck. There a happy Asha was holding the wheel, while behind her, Nymeria was laying down on a hammock, a thin slip of a dress barely hiding her modesty as the sea breeze tried its best to remove the dress.
Nymeria had come about a moon after I’d returned and asked me about inviting them for a short sail. I’d been reluctant to allow the Greyjoy lass onto my ship and said as much. However, over the following moons, Nymeria had kept asking, sprinkling in hints that if I agreed, then she and Asha would be incredibly grateful. Now, after moons of suggestions, and with things growing slightly boring for me, I’d agreed. Thus, since we’d left harbour, Asha had been piloting my ship.
Even if Nymeria’s hints of reward came to nothing, the smile Asha wore ever since first being allowed to pilot made the trip worthwhile. She might’ve seemed happy in Sunspear, especially when around Nymeria and her friends, but the smile she’d worn ever since then – and which was still stuck on her face even now – made clear just how much she missed the oceans. Even the hints of hatred she’d always had for me – no doubt in response to blaming me for indirectly causing her father’s death – were gone.
As I emerged into the quarterdeck, Asha looked at me. That hatred was gone, or at least suppressed, replaced by a gaze of desire, though I suspected that was more from her being back at sea than something aimed at me. “I thought I told you to stop tempting my crew,” I said to my stepsister as I stepped past Asha.
The first day out from harbour, one of the crew – a new member brought onboard to make up numbers after the storm and pirate attack several moons ago – had seen her, and not long after tried to bed her. Nymeria had been against that and removed a finger with one of the daggers that even now, were never out of arm’s reach. When I’d discovered the incident, I’d considered placing the now nine-fingered man in the brig. However, after he launched a string of insults at my sister, I’d simply moved closer, picked him up, and tossed him overboard.
Several members of the new crew had stared in shock at my actions, though I had noted that none of the old crew had cared. To all, I’d stated clearly that tossing him over and letting him decide his fate in the sea was a fairer response to how Prince Oberyn would react if he’d remained onboard when we returned to port. That had ended the issue before it became one and resulted in most of the crew avoiding gazing at my sister. At least whenever I was present. There was little doubt in my mind that she teased the crew whenever I wasn’t around, and as her current dress proved, even if she did nothing but laze around, she could drive any man – and many ladies – to distraction.
Nymeria shrugged before shifting in the hammock, causing her dress to slip enough that one of her breasts was exposed. She smiled and licked her lips when she caught my gaze wandering. “The only ones I wish to tempt are those close enough to enjoy the view,” she replied as she shifted again, moving to a seated position that dragged my focus to her long, smooth legs. “And I see it’s working on at least one of you.”
I smirked and shook my head. “And to think I delayed bringing you out here.” I glanced over my shoulder at Asha who was seemingly lost in sailing. “Sadly, I think your partner is distracted by something she finds even more alluring.”
Nymeria stood, sliding her feet into a pair of sandals that did little more than protect her feet from splinters. “It seems you may be correct.” Her eyes locked on me, and she smiled as she nibbled a finger. “Perhaps there is something we could do that might regain her attention?” As she spoke, her finger slid from her mouth and trailed down her neck, stopping just above the gap between her breasts.
I stepped closer, wondering just how far she was willing to take this, and hoping that would be all the way. “And how, dear sister, might I help with that?”
Nymeria’s hand turned and she rested her palm against my chest, biting her lips as she ran her fingers over my upper body that was exposed by the loose shirt I wore. “I can think of one thing that might work.” She leaned closer even as her fingers trailed down my stomach. “If you may be willing to accept my thanks for allowing us this voyage?”
“More than willing,” I replied, though with that she pulled back.
I turned as she moved past me, and as she approached Asha, and slid her arms around the other girl’s waist, Asha jerked, so lost in sailing that she was caught off guard by the action. “Enjoying the sea, my love?” Nymeria asked loud enough that I could hear.
“Hmm, Yes,” Asha replied, leaning back into my stepsister. “Thank you,” Nymeria whispered something to her, and Asha turned her head to me. “Thank you, Cregan.” I accepted the thanks with a nod even as I did my best to ignore the way Nymeria’s hands slid into Asha’s trousers.
Nymeria leaned closer and whispered something into Asha’s ear. The Greyjoy’s cheeks darkened a touch as she continued to look at me, and her eyes wandered over my frame. I could see the flames of lust sparking to live in her eyes, brought on, no doubt, but Nymeria’s skilled fingers.
“Fine, but if he fails to live up to your word, you shall suffer for it,” Asha remarked.
Nymeria pulled back but not before kissing Asha’s cheek. “Promises, promises.”
She moved away from Asha, removing her hands from inside her lover’s trousers. One hand found Asha’s while the other reached out for me. “Come along. The sun is getting low, and we want to retire to your cabin.” I blinked, processing the slip in wording. The way she smirked made clear it was intentional, and I happily took her hand in mine. “Good. I have grown tired of hearing tales about you from my cousin. It is long past time I discovered if they, and what my sisters hinted at, are true.”
“I doubt they are all true,” Asha commented as Nymeria guided us toward the steps down.
“I am more than willing to prove them true, my dear,” I replied with a smirk as we let Nymeria guide us to the main deck and then toward my cabin.
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