The Heat of Dorne Chapter 7 (Patreon)

Daemon resisted the urge to sigh in relief as the final aspects of the deal with the ‘Great Masters’ of Meereen were finished.  All in all, between the treasure he had seized from the Ironborn and the deals he had worked out in Yunkai and Meereen for the last two Harpy’s Eggs, he had amassed a fortune likely close to that of Corlys Velaryon and in significantly less time.  That he had a vast army and a fleet far beyond that of the Sea Snake as well made the resources at his disposal quite significant.

“I must say that none of us ever expected to see the egg returned to the city,” Hizdahr zo Loraq said.  “Most records of its existence were lost in the great fire that engulfed our library around fifty years ago.”

“Well, I’m glad to see you all so enthusiastic about its return,” Daemon commented, adding in his mind, “cunt.”

While none of the masters he had met in Yunkai or Meereen had been quite as evil as those in Astapor, they were still some of the vilest creatures he had ever had the misfortune of speaking to.

“On behalf of all the Great Masters, I would like to invite you to the Great Pit of Daznak this evening to watch the fights,” Hizdahr said.

“I’m not sure if we’ll have time,” Daemon replied diplomatically.

“It will take quite some time for your slaves to load the chests of gold, silver, and jewels on your ships,” Hizdahr pointed out.  “It is unlikely that you’ll be able to depart very quickly.”

He had a point there, but Daemon had been intending to spend his last hours before he departed Slaver’s Bay on the Silence.

“I will have to consider it,” Daemon said noncommittally.

“Well, I hope you decide to join us,” Hizdahr said. “The Great Pit of Daznak is the most splendorous fighting pit in the world, and if you join us, you and your wife will get to enjoy the greatest seats in the stadium.”

With that, the Meereenese noble departed, and Daemon could finally let out that sigh as he rejoined Arianne and their party.

“What did he want?” she asked as soon as he drew close.

“He invited us to watch the fights this evening in their largest fighting pit,” Daemon replied.

“I’d rather watch Obara dance,” Arianne said blandly.

“Hey!” Obara exclaimed, feigning offense.

Daemon chuckled as the two started arguing playfully.  For such a skilled fighter and acrobat, Obara was shockingly bad at dancing; all elbows and misplaced feet.  Their party continued on their way towards their ship when Lewyn stopped dead in his tracks, so suddenly that Daemon walked into him.

“What in the…” Daemon went to ask when he saw what Lewyn was staring at.  Down a narrow side street, there stood an obviously wealthy man, flanked by guards, glaring furiously at a boy wearing the rags of a slave.  The boy had a complexion unlike any Daemon had ever seen and long, pitch-black hair that fell poker straight from his scalp.  The boy was yelling something at his master, a strange sight in itself, and in a language that Daemon had never heard before.

“That boy is speaking the language of Yi Ti,” Missandei explained.

“Do you speak it?” Daemon asked.

“No,” Missandei replied, “but I know how it sounds.”

“The boy claims to be the son of the emperor,” Lewyn said.

“What?” Arianne asked.

“You speak their tongue?” Missandei asked.

As they spoke, the master backhanded the boy hard enough to make him fall to the ground, and he immediately turned around to glare balefully at the man.

“He does have a near-suicidal arrogance I’ve never seen in anyone who didn’t grow up in a noble hall before,” Daemon commented. “How do you speak the tongue of the Golden Empire?”

“Before I joined the Kingsguard, I spent a couple years fighting as a sellsword in Essos,” Lewyn explained.

“Like Father did with the Second Sons?” Nymeria asked.

“Yes,” Lewyn replied, “it was I who recommended the Second Sons when Oberyn expressed interest in gaining fighting experience in Essos.  During my time with them, we happened upon a small group of bandits that had been ravaged by an ailment of some sort.  We made short work of them and discovered among the slaves they held a young woman originally from the east named Mei.”

“She taught you her language?” Tyene asked.

“We spent quite some time together,” Lewyn replied morosely enough that Daemon decided not to ask how it had ended.

“And you’re sure that the boy claims to be the emperor’s son?” he asked.

“He could be lying, of course, but that is what he claims,” Lewyn replied.

Daemon thought about the potential opportunity this could be for a moment before saying, “wait here for a moment.  I want to go have a chat with that slaver.”

As he walked over, the slaver was too busy whipping the defiant boy to notice his approach.

“Spirited little prick, isn’t he?” he said, sounding amused.

“What?” the slaver asked, whipping around to look at him. “Who are you?”

“Prince Daemon Targaryen,” Daemon replied smoothly, “to whom do I speak?”

“You’re the one who brought the Harpy’s Egg to Meereen,” the man said. “Well met, Prince.  I am Zharaq zo Ghazeen.  To answer your question, yes, this one is defiant, but it is nothing that a good beating or five can’t cure.”

“Seems like a lot of trouble,” Daemon said casually, looking at the boy who had gotten back on his feet. “Sell him to me and save yourself the trouble.”

“Why do you want a defiant slave?” Zharaq asked.

“He isn’t for me,” Daemon replied.  Gesturing back to Lewyn, he lied smoothly, saying, “it’s the old man’s nameday and he likes the look of the boy.  I figured he could make a suitable gift.”

Zharaq laughed and said, “I suppose a good, hard buggering could drive out the defiance, but I must decline.  I’ve never sold an untrained slave, and I’m not about to start now.”

“Must not murder,” Daemon thought to himself.

“You’ve yet to hear my offer,” Daemon countered with an easy smile, “and you know I am a man of significant wealth.”

“Forgive me, your worship,” one of his guards said, “but you did say that you were looking for additional coin for the fights.”

“I have coin enough!” Zharaq snapped.

“Forgive me if I’m wrong, but I thought that the house of Ghazeen was one of the noble houses,” Daemon said. “Are the greatest seats at the pits not owned by the families?”

“My family does own a set of seats in the Great Pit of Daznak,” Zharaq said. “Earlier today, I was assessing the coin I have on hand for wagers.”

“You’re a gambling man?” Daemon asked.

“We all are,” Zharaq chuckled. “The main fight today is between Goghor the Giant and Bellos Bullbane, and I’m betting everything on Goghor.”

“You’re confident that he’ll win?” Daemon asked.

“Absolutely!” Zharaq exclaimed. “The man has fists like hams, and is more akin to a bull than a man!”

“Then one would think a man called Bullbane would have an advantage,” Daemon chuckled.

“Bellos is old,” Zharaq protested. “Once he could kill a bull with one strike of his palm, but those days are long past.”

“So we have a bull-like man against an old bull killer,” Daemon said. “That sounds exciting.”

“It should be,” Zharaq said.

“Then I think I’ll take that bet,” Daemon said. “I’ll wager that Bellos will win, provided you’ll agree to put up the boy on your end.”

Zharaq looked appraisingly at Daemon for a moment before replying, “and if Goghor wins?  I don’t suppose you’d be willing to wager that sword of yours?”

“No boy is worth a Valyrian steel sword,” Daemon scoffed, “but I do have ships full of treasure.  One of the chests of gold that the council paid me for the Harpy’s egg seems reasonable.  Do we have a bet?”

“I say so,” Zharaq said. “I can always do with more coin.”

“Oh, just one thing, though,” Daemon said. “Try not to rough him up any further today.  If I win, well, the old man likes them pretty.”

Zharaq chuckled and agreed, barking at his guards to lock the boy up until after the fight.

As Daemon returned to the others, Arianne asked, “so, are we freeing another one?”

“Hopefully,” Daemon replied. “That cunt wasn’t willing to sell him, but we did make a wager on the final match of the pit fights today.”

“So we are attending,” Arianne sighed.

“If the boy is what he claims, who knows what we could get for returning him to his father?” Daemon asked.

“My prince, the empire of Yi Ti is quite a distance away,” Lewyn warned him. “Doran is surely already starting to wonder about us.”

“I have no intention of delaying my return home any longer,” Daemon said. “If we free the boy, it will fall to you to return him home.”

“Me?” Lewyn asked.

“You’re the only one who speaks the language,” Daemon said, “and by that white cloak around your shoulders, you are technically a representative of the Iron Throne.  It would be perfectly appropriate to charge you with this task.”

“Your father was adamant that I stay by your side,” Lewyn argued.

“I can write to him when I return, explain the situation, and request another guard,” Daemon said. “Once I leave this gods-forsaken land, the only threat between here and Dorne that would dare bother me with my fleet and army surrounding me is that of storms, and this you could not defend me against.”

“If you’re sure,” Lewyn said.

“I am,” Daemon said. “Now let’s return to the ship before I kill someone.”

“I take it he was as bad as the rest?” Bellegere asked.

“You have no idea,” Daemon growled.

*****

“My prince, could I have a moment of your time?” Missandei asked the second Daemon stepped foot on the Silence.

“Alone, or with me?” Arianne asked, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“If you wanted to join us...er, I mean talk as well, I wouldn’t dream of…” Missandei babbled.

“Hush, my dear,” Arianne said softly, taking Missandei’s hand in hers. “Come.”

Daemon watched the byplay with barely concealed amusement.  Missandei’s longing glances had become more and more obvious since they left Yunkai, and he had been anticipating that she’d come to him eventually.

“This seems like a private party,” Tyene giggled. “You three want to go have one of our own?”

Obara, Nymeria, and Bellegere nodded and followed the blonde to one of the empty cabins in the ship as Daemon followed Arianne and Missandei.

As Daemon entered the room, Arianne had already sat down on their bed, and Missandei was pacing and ringing her hands.  Her golden eyes looked not fearful but definitely nervous as she gazed at him.  He didn’t know much about her time as a slave, as she had volunteered few details since he freed her, but he figured that approaching a man for sex was an entirely new thing for her.

“This...I mentioned that I had some experience with...well, and I have heard plenty more through the years,” Missandei started, “but nothing that I’ve ever known or heard has ever been like what you two and the others enjoy.”

“There is pleasure in fucking,” Arianne said softly as she walked over to Missandei.  Tracing a finger gently down the other woman’s arm, she added, “when you have someone who knows what they’re doing and especially when that person has taken the time to learn your body well, it can be magical.”

“As I said when we met,” Daemon said as he joined his wife by Missandei, “you are a beautiful woman, and if you want to join Arianne and I in our bed, we would eagerly have you.”

“Yes,” Missandei hissed, her eyes wide and black with lust. “Hearing you all these weeks has been making me mad.”

“Well, we can’t have that,” Daemon chuckled, his voice low and rumbling.

“Not at all,” Arianne agreed. “You’re far too pretty to go mad.”

“So, what is it that you had in mind?” Daemon asked. “Arianne’s one condition for letting me bed other women is that she gets to, at minimum, watch.  Do you want the both of us, though?”

“I want whatever it is that makes the princess and the others scream like they do,” Missandei breathed.

“If we’re going to fuck you, I want you to refer to us by name, at least in bed,” Daemon said.  He had always felt weird being addressed by his title by a woman while he was balls deep inside her.

“Daemon, Arianne,” Missandei said, almost as though she was testing how the names felt on her tongue, “please take me to bed.”

Arianne was on her in an instant, pulling the taller woman down into a passionate kiss.  Though small, she could be a dominant little thing when she wanted to be, and if the way that Missandei moaned into her mouth and yielded immediately was any indication, she had no problem with that.  Daemon stepped around the pair and brushed Missandei’s curly black hair aside so that he could start kissing her neck.

“Oh gods!” she cried, breaking off the kiss to moan her pleasure.  She reached back to dig her fingers into Daemon’s curls as he continued to tease her.

Arianne responded to the kiss ending by latching herself onto the other side of the woman’s neck and cupping her large, firm tits through her clothes.  Missandei was already breathing heavily, and Daemon could feel her heart racing in her chest.  He wondered if she had ever known pleasure at all and grinned at the thought of introducing her to that particular world.

“Bed, now,” he growled in her ear.  As she practically ran to the bed, he slapped her arse, making her squeak.  She turned around as she sat on the bed and looked up at Daemon and Arianne, her face a picture of wantonness and lust.

“Such a wanton thing you are,” Arianne purred as she approached the other woman. “Have you ever known bliss at all?”

“Bliss?” Missandei asked.

“The explosive pleasure of a peak,” Arianne explained.

“I don’t understand, Pri...Arianne,” Missandei said.

“Oh, you poor thing,” Arianne said. “You’re saying that you never touched yourself between your legs at night, chasing that elusive ecstasy?”

“Slaves were forbidden to pleasure themselves unless ordered,” Missandei said, her eyes dimming.  “The things done  to those who did so and were caught are better not mentioned.”

Arianne gave Daemon a look that said everything on her mind.  The two of them would have to take care with Missandei, not knowing just what she had experienced at the hands of her masters, but they were definitely going to treat her to an experience that she would never forget.

“You are wearing far too much,” Arianne said as she approached the bed.

“Actually, Arianne, I’m not wearing that much,” Missandei replied, and before either could ask what she meant, she undid the simple dress she was wearing and removed it swiftly, revealing that she was wearing nothing else.

She was a stunning thing, her dusky skin and golden eyes giving her an allure she would have even if she didn’t have a truly beautiful face.  Her nose was slight, her lips full, and her cheekbones prominent, yet soft-looking in her round face.  Her breasts were about the size of Nymeria’s, Daemon noted, with large brown nipples that reminded him of Arianne’s, and her flat belly gave way to wide hips and gorgeously long legs.  The most notable thing, however, was the complete lack of hair between her legs.

“You shave?” Arianne asked.

“His...Kraznys always insisted that all of his slaves keep their bodies shorn,” Missandei said. “I’ve only maintained it because I prefer the feeling.”

“Well, I must admit that it does look lovely,” Arianne said, brushing her fingers gently over Missandei’s bare mound.  The other woman’s breath hitched, and she widened her legs further in response to the intimate caress.

“You want to give it a try?” Daemon asked.

“The idea of putting a knife anywhere near there doesn’t seem all that appealing,” Arianne replied.

“I could do it for you if you want,” Missandei offered.

“Something to consider later,” Arianne replied. “For now, I can think of much better things I could be doing.”

She started taking off her dress, and Daemon moved to help her, his eyes locked on Missandei, who looked up at them with lust in her eyes.  He was bare from the waist up, having started undressing while the two of them spoke, and her eyes gazed at his muscular, scarred body like she wanted to eat him.  The second Arianne’s dress moved below her breasts, he cupped the heavy mounds and grinned at Missandei.

“Doesn’t she have gorgeous tits?” he asked. “Come, I want to see you suckle them.”

“Not yet, my love,” Arianne said. “This poor thing’s never cum before, and I think we should fix that.  Lie back and spread your legs.  It’s time you learned just what your body is capable of.”

Missandei shuddered as she complied.

“Look how wet she already is, Daemon,” Arianne cooed as she removed her small clothes and threw them aside.

“I want you to take a finger and slide it slowly between your nether lips, from your opening to that hard little pearl at the top,” Daemon said.

Missandei did what he said and gasped when she brushed her clit.

“You feel that?” he asked. “That is but the faintest taste of what you can feel, what we’re going to make you feel.  Do you want that?”

“So much, Daemon,” Missandei moaned.

“Good girl,” he whispered, grinning when she shuddered.

He took her leg in hand and gently kissed her ankle, enjoying the feel of the soft flesh under his lips.  She squirmed as he kissed and lapped his way up her leg, getting ever closer to her core.  He could smell her wet cunt, by that point and his mouth watered at the scent.  Arianne wasn’t idle, working to get his breeches off.  When he finally reached her thigh, he dug his fingers into the pliant flesh and marveled at how she had changed in the short time since he freed her.  Even through her clothes, Missandei had been noticeably thinner when they met, and even with them moving about and not eating as well as they would back in Westeros, it had still clearly been better than the slave’s rations she had had before.

As Daemon reached her dripping cunt, he skipped over it and started placing teasing little kisses on her other thigh.  She whined in response and draped an arm over her eyes.  He found her adorable and decided to take mercy on her.  With the flat of his tongue, he licked across her entire cunt.

Missandei gasped and let out a long, drawn out, “ooh!”

Daemon held his tongue against her cunt, his upper lip resting against her mound, and his eyes trained on hers.  He let her feel the heat of his tongue and his soft breath against her sex and enjoyed the taste of her.  When she started to squirm again, trying to force some kind of friction, he pulled back and started placing slow, lingering kisses on her lips, deliberately avoiding her clit.  It had been a long time since he had been with someone who hadn’t felt a tongue on them before, and he decided to draw this out a bit.

When he fluttered his tongue lightly against her clit, she sat up and yelped, and when he moved lower and parted her dripping folds with his tongue, she fell back and brought her hand to his scalp.  He could see her clit, slightly larger than most, peaking out behind its hood and avoided touching it again for the time being.

“How are you enjoying having your cunt licked?” Arianne asked as she crawled up the bed.

“It’s...amazing,” Missandei croaked, sounding completely overwhelmed already. “I’ve never felt...oh gods...anything like it!”

“Daemon is particularly good at it,” Arianne commented, “but you’ll find that we are all quite skilled, and you’ll learn soon enough that there are things you can feel that are even better?”

“Better?!” Missandei exclaimed in disbelief.

“Better than you can imagine,” Arianne whispered.  Before Missandei could say anything else, she settled her hands on the woman’s face and pulled her in to kiss her again.

As his wife kissed their new lover, Daemon decided to give her her first peak.  He used his tongue to force her hood back and expose her clit.  Flicking his tongue over the sensitive nub directly made her yelp into Arianne’s mouth, so he tried something else.  Wrapping his lips around her pearl, he sucked gently and started swirling his tongue around it.  The effect was immediate, with Missandei’s legs quivering and her back arching.

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh...Daemon!” she screamed as she came undone.  A gush of fluid shot from her, soaking his face.

Daemon kissed and licked her cunt gently as she came, prolonging her pleasure without making it too intense for her, not sure yet what she could take.  When her quivering started to slow, Daemon stepped back and looked at the wreck he had made of her.  She was panting for breath, her skin slick with sweat, and her eyes staring unfocused at the ceiling.  Arianne crawled over and licked the slick from his chin.

“Delicious,” she said before kissing him passionately.  Their tongues dueled for dominance as they shared Missandei’s juices between them.  When they heard their lover babble something in a language they didn’t know, they broke the kiss and turned to look down at her, their cheeks still flush against each other.

“What was that?” Daemon asked.

“’Fucking hells’ would probably be the closest translation,” Missandei sighed.

“That sums up what Daemon can do to a girl pretty well,” Arianne said with a throaty laugh that made his cock throb.  “Just wait until you feel what he can do to you with this gorgeous cock.”

“I…” Missandei trailed off, her eyes widening as she looked at his cock for the first time. “That...it’s huge!”

“I know, right?” Arianne asked, grinning at the other woman’s shock.

Missandei sat up and reached over to wrap her hand around his cock in a daze. “It’s twice the size of...nevermind.”

“Length or girth?” Arianne giggled.

“Both,” Missandei gasped. “It’s so hard too.”

“If you’re worried about me fitting, know that I’ll go slowly,” Daemon said.

“Trust me, if you can fit inside Arianne, I’m sure I’ll be alright,” Missandei reasoned.

“Tyene’s the difficult one, actually,” Arianne said, “but Daemon’s a master of opening a woman up, and you’re wetter than the ocean, so it will work.  How do you want your first time to be?”

“This isn’t my first time,” Missandei said, sounding confused.

“You said yourself that Daemon’s twice as large as what you’ve had before, and you had never even crested before today,” Arianne said. “As far as I’m concerned, this is your first time truly being fucked, so how do you want him.”

“On my back,” Missandei replied quietly, “though, if you could, I would like to try doing to you what he just did to me.”

“I’ll have to sit on your face for that,” Arianne said.

Missandei just nodded, blushing prettily, and Daemon grinned.  They’d make her one of them yet.  He crawled between her legs and pushed a couple fingers inside her, making her gasp.  She was tight, and he knew that he would have to go slow to start, but Arianne wasn’t wrong about how wet she was.  Just as Arianne got in position to straddle her face, he lined himself up with her sopping sex and pushed.

“Oh!” Missandei cried as the head of his cock spread her lips wide.

“Fucking hells, you’re tight,” he groaned as he felt her hot, slick tightness cling to his cock.

“Ah, that’s it,” Arianne cooed as Missandei started licking her. “Just focus your lips and tongue where I direct you, and when I move that little nub atop my cunt to your tongue, be gentle.”

Daemon pushed inside her a little more and then pulled back so that only the bulbous head of his cock remained inside her.  Moving slowly and steadily, back and forth, he conquered her sweltering depths inch by inch.  She wasn’t as painfully tight as Tyene had been the first time, but she was damn close, and he was careful not to hurt her.  Her moans and cries were muffled by Arianne, but they were music to his ears all the same.  When he finally bottomed out inside her, nearly a couple inches of his cock remained outside her.

“I guess that’s as deep as it goes,” he said through gritted teeth.

Arianne raised herself off of Missandei’s face and asked, “how does that feel?”

“So full,” Missandei moaned. “I feel like you’re splitting me in half, but it’s so good.”

“It’s that mix of pleasure and a hint of pain with the delightful burn of being stretched wide, isn’t it?” Arianne asked.  When Missandei nodded, she added, “that’s the kind of stretch you can only get with a particularly gifted man like Daemon here.”

“So good,” Missandei gasped, and when he pulled a few inches of his cock out of her and speared back inside her, she let out a sharp, rapturous cry.

Arianne settled her cunt back on Missandei’s face and grinned at Daemon.  Taking the former slave from both ends, they quickly found their rhythms, with Daemon fucking her with long, slow strokes while Arianne ground herself on her face.  Slowly, he felt her relax around his significant girth and was able to move more freely.  Her cunt was shallower than most that he had fucked, and he moved her legs to his shoulders to see if he could get deeper in the different position.

Arianne watched Missandei’s breasts roll across her chest for a few moments before grabbing and kneading the mounds.

“Such beautiful tits,” she said, her voice starting to sound strained as she neared her peak.

“They really are,” Daemon commented.  “With a mind like yours and your beauty, you were wasted on these wretched creatures.  You’ll love it in Dorne, I promise.”

He didn’t know if the promise of a good future did it or if she was just getting close, but Daemon felt her cunt flutter around his cock and smirked.

“Play with her clit, love,” he said.

“Give me a...oh gods yes, right there!” Arianne cried. “Just like that, fuck, you’re a natural, just a little...little...FUCK!”

Arianne fell forward as she came, and Daemon moved to catch her, his rhythm never breaking as he continued fucking Missandei.  She writhed in his arms as her orgasm thundered through her, and he relished in her look of ecstasy.  He held her as she came down from her peak and relaxed in his arms.  When her senses returned to her, she moved off of Missandei’s face and turned to kiss her.

“That was so good,” she cooed, her hand snaking down to stroke the other woman’s clit.

“Oh gods!” Missandei cried. “It’s happening again!”

“Let it happen, Missandei,” Arianne whispered in her ear. “Let go.”

With a wordless cry, Missandei came again, her cunt clenching around his cock wonderfully.  He picked up his pace while her orgasm took her, pounding her harder than he had dared to yet.  She shivered and shook as the pleasure coursed through her, and he did everything that he could to draw it out.  When she finally fell limp under him, he pulled out and slapped her cunt with his cock, making her groan.

“Come here, I want to taste you both,” Arianne said.

He moved closer to her and moaned loudly when she immediately took him in her mouth.  She wasted no time in swallowing him whole.  The sweet suction of her lips and the speed at which she moved made it clear that she wanted him to cum.  The look in her eyes said the same, and Daemon just grabbed the sheets under him as she drove him wild.

“That was divine,” Missandei moaned when she finally caught her breath.  Noticing what Arianne was doing, she asked,  “How does she not choke?”

“Practice,” Daemon growled, unable to say more as he raced towards his peak.

When Arianne cupped his balls, he was done for and he roared as he filled her mouth to the brim with his thick seed.  She took the load with practiced ease, not losing a drop, but she did not swallow as she normally did, and her cheeks bulged with all that he gave her.  He staggered back as his orgasm abated, settling on a chair facing the bed.

Arianne looked over at Missandei and crawled slowly towards her, her mouth still full of his seed.  She pointed at her mouth and gave the other woman what he assumed was a questioning look.  Missandei nodded, and Arianne descended upon her, kissing her and sharing the mouthful.  Daemon watched the depraved display eagerly, feeling his half-hard cock twitch.  He was about to suggest that Arianne taste their new lover when he heard a knock at the door.  Arianne broke the kiss to look around, and he signaled for her to go back to what she was doing and put on his breeches.

“Sorry, my prince,” Edric said, holding a wooden box and looking deliberately at his shoes, “but you said to bring this to you as soon as we found one.  It was harder than I would have expected, honestly.”

“Thank you,” Daemon said shortly, wanting to get back to bed. “That will be all.”

He closed the door and set the box on a little table inside their quarters.  It was loosely sealed and wouldn’t take much to open, and he could feel it shaking with the struggles of its contents.

“What’s in there?” Arianne asked. “It must be important if you let him interrupt us.”

“It is,” Daemon said. “It’s the key to making sure that we free that little princeling.”

He removed the loosely nailed lid and ignored Arianne’s screams as a rat tried to jump out.  He was too quick for the rat, catching the little creature around its back.

“Daemon!” Arianne yelled, sounding livid. “Why in the world would you have a rat brought here?”

“As I said,” Daemon replied calmly, “this rat could help make sure that I win my wager.”

“You want to control it and use it to attack the one you bet against?” Missandei guessed.

“Correct,” Daemon replied.

“Would that even work?” Arianne asked. “Even if you can take control of it, how can you be sure that it wouldn’t disqualify the winner?”

“Given how little value these cunts place on the lives of their slaves, I doubt they’d find this anything other than amusing,” Daemon said.

“Can you actually control him?” Arianne asked.

“There’s only one way to find out,” Daemon replied before forcing his will on the small animal.

*****

Arianne had always enjoyed bloodsports.  Even back when she was a young girl, years before she had flowered, she had enjoyed watching men spar, and as soon as she was old enough to watch tournies, she found that she enjoyed that even more.  After she flowered, she found new reasons to enjoy watching warriors fight, their strong, hard bodies glistening in the sun as they struggled against each other and attempted to show their superiority.  It had made how much she used to enjoy watching her uncle fight confusing for a while, but that was neither here nor there.

The fighting pits in Meereen were not as enjoyable, however.

“You’re scowling, my love,” Daemon whispered in her ear.

“I can’t help it,” Arianne replied just as quietly.  They were speaking Common, but there was still no reason to risk being understood. “Knowing that all of these fighters are owned and doing it at the behest of their masters rather than a simple desire to prove themselves takes the fun out of it for me.”

“Still, it’s best if we keep up appearances,” Daemon said. “We’ll be out of here soon.”

“Thank the gods,” Arianne grumbled. “I don’t know how you manage to keep a straight face so easily in the face of what we’ve seen since we arrived here.”

“My uncle impressed upon me the need to show as little emotion as possible when dealing with others,” Daemon replied. “Obviously, this doesn’t extend to people I know well and care about, but when dealing with strangers, it can help keep them guessing what your true motives are.”

“Remind me to have you meet with potentially difficult people when I’m Princess of Dorne,” Arianne said.

“I’ll be your prince-consort,” Daemon said. “Meeting with arseholes is part of the role.”

Arianne giggled, but before she could reply, one of the fighters in the pit was run through the gut by his opponent.  As the crowd started cheering for the victor to finish off his unfortunate foe, the man walked around him, relishing in the praise of the spectators and gesturing for them to get louder.  This went on for a long moment before the victorious fighter turned around and drove his blade through the fallen man’s throat.  A gush of blood shot forth from the wound and splattered over the victor as his foe rattled in death.

“A worthy victory by Camarron of the Count!” the announcer exclaimed, prompting another round of applause as the pit fighter left.  Two slaves came out to remove the body of the man he had slain as the announcer continued, saying, “next up, we have our main event.  Neither of these next men needs any introduction…”

“This will be it,” Daemon murmured in her ear. “You know what to do.”

“You’re lucky you’re married to a woman willing to do things like this,” Arianne said as she climbed into his lap and sat back against his chest.  They got a couple looks from the nobles around them, but a few of them had whores in their own laps, so it didn’t look too out of place.

“This is the least of the reasons why I’m lucky to be married to you,” Daemon whispered, kissing her neck and settling his hands on her lap.

“...and twenty-one fights to the death under his belt; he’s Goghor the Giant!” the announcer droned on as a veritable giant of a man entered the arena. “His opponent is an old favorite in the pits, a man who made his name by fighting bulls; he’s no novice to death matches.  In what will be his last fight in this pit, win or lose, welcome Bellos Bullbane!”

The second fighter entered the arena, and Arianne could tell that his best days were behind him.  A head of snow white hair was the first thing that she saw, but while he was clearly old, he still looked strong.  Daemon relaxed against her, and she didn’t have to look to know that he had sent his mind out in search of the rat they had left close to the arena’s center.  The small creature had been remarkably docile after Daemon entered its mind and left, and he had thought that there would be no issue with leaving it out of the way close to where they needed it to be.  Arianne placed her hands over Daemon’s to prevent them from slipping and leaned back against him as the fight began.

The two men circled each other to start the fight, neither one young or foolhardy enough to rush into a fight to the death.  It was the younger of the two who struck first, Goghor swinging at Bellos’ head.  It was a probing strike that the older man parried with ease and riposted with a thrust towards Goghor’s shoulder.  The giant of a man sidestepped the blow, and their fight was on.

Arianne could admit that they were both skilled fighters, and under normal circumstances, she would have enjoyed herself.  Her circumstances were far from normal, however, as not only was she desperate to get back to sea, but she also had to hope against hope that no one would try to talk to Daemon during the fight.  Sitting in his lap was actually her idea, as she had hoped that if they looked like they were enjoying themselves in such an intimate way, the nobles seated around them would be less likely to try to interrupt them.  She moved his left hand to her inner thigh and reached up to ghost her nails against his scalp.

Goghor swung low, and Bellos actually jumped over it, but he landed poorly and had to scramble back.  The younger man pushed the attack, raining a flurry of blows on his opponent, but Bellos held back the onslaught well as he regained his footing.  A well-placed kick to Goghor’s thigh sent the giant back and gave Bellos the moment he needed to correct himself.

Arianne kept her eyes peeled for the slightest movement around the two men, and after a few minutes, she saw the distinct brown fur of the rat.  She could freely admit that she really didn’t like rats and actually found Missandei’s complete lack of reaction to the vermin to be slightly unnerving, but if it was going to help them rig this fight and speed up their departure from Slaver’s Bay, she was happy to have the creature’s aid.

The audience was too focused on the fight to notice the rat, not that Arianne could blame them for missing it.  Even in the closest seats to the action, such as the one she and Daemon were in, she had only noticed because she was looking for it.  In the cheapest seats, in the upper rings, she doubted that she would even see it.  The two men didn’t see it either.

Daemon had thrown out a few ideas of how he could use the rat to affect the outcome of the fight, from crawling up Goghor’s leg to trying to jump up at the man.  The slave fighters wore sandals, however, and as Daemon scurried over to the fight, he clearly thought that would be helpful.  Moving behind Goghor as he stepped away from a thrust from Bellos, Daemon latched onto the giant’s ankle and bit clean through the large tendon.

“That ought to do it,” Daemon murmured in her ear as he returned to himself.

Goghor’s pained cry echoed through the fighting pit, and he fell as his leg gave out.  Bellos, whether he had seen what happened to his opponent or not, recognized the opportunity and took it, thrusting his sword cleanly through the other man’s heart.

“Gah!” Daemon cried just as the arena erupted in applause.

“Daemon?” Arianne asked, turning around to see the look of pain on his face. “Daemon!”

“I’m alright,” Daemon said through gritted teeth. “Just a sudden pain in my chest, but it’s passing.”

Daemon’s eyes widened as he looked down at the pit, and Arianne turned to see what he was looking at.  Bellos had picked up the rat, or half of him.  From the look of things, it appeared that the creature ran right into the path of Goghor’s sword as the giant fell dead.  Bellos shook his head and threw the mangled corpse aside.

Arianne looked back at Daemon and saw that he realized the same thing that she did.

“Did you feel what he did?” she asked quietly.

“No,” Daemon said. “It did feel like something was cut off of me, though.”

“I didn’t know that power was so dangerous,” Arianne said.

“I know little about it at all,” Daemon said, “but I’ll clearly have to be more careful with it in the future.”

“At least it worked,” Arianne sighed, relaxing as Daemon’s pain clearly faded.

*****

It was a visibly agitated Zharaq that Daemon found when he went to collect his winnings.  Flanked by Lewyn and a few of his unsullied, Daemon had to actively keep the grin off of his face as he approached the slaver.

“You!” Zharaq snarled.

“I’m here for the boy,” Daemon said flatly.

“You even brought the pervert,” Zharaq sneered, and Daemon found himself glad that Lewyn had forgotten nearly all of the Valyrian he had learned as a boy.

“There’s no need to be impolite,” Daemon drawled. “All gambles involve risk.”

“To lose to a fucking rat, though!?” Zharaq shouted.

“I’ll admit that was odd,” Daemon said, unable to keep his lips from tugging upward for a moment.

“It was sorcery, is what it was,” Zharaq growled. “Was it you?”

“If you’re planning to try and renege on your bet, claiming that I’m a rat-smuggling sorcerer, we can take your charge to the council,” Daemon said calmly, figuring that the council of the Great Masters would take more kindly to the man who returned the Harpy’s Egg than what he assumed was a low-ranking member of his noble house in such a case.

The look of defeat on Zharaq’s face told him all that he needed to know about how right he was on that count, and as the slaver barked for his guards to bring him the boy, Daemon let his smile show.

“Take him and leave,” Zharaq ordered.

“Happily,” Daemon said, letting the rage he had been feeling ever since Astapor show clearly on his face.  Zharaq was no warrior and took a step back at his glare.  Before either man could say another word, the guards emerged with the boy from Yi Ti.

“He’s your problem now,” Zharaq spat as he headed inside.

The boy immediately launched into what Daemon assumed was a diatribe, if the angry look on his face was any indication, and was stunned silent when Lewyn replied to him in his tongue.  His tone changed from angry to imperious, and Daemon assumed that he had made some kind of demand.  Lewyn asked him a couple questions, which he replied to.

“His name is Bu Zaiji,” Lewyn said. “Bu is the name of the current imperial family, if I recall correctly.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s telling the truth, but it’s something,” Daemon said. “Is he as demanding a thing as he seems?”

“He is a prince, my prince,” Lewyn replied, sounding amused.

“My prince,” Daemon replied mockingly. “Tell him who we are and inform him that you’ll be escorting him home.”

Lewyn did, and the boy sounded confused as he replied.

“Oh?” Daemon asked.

“He doesn’t understand how we could be princes if we aren’t his father’s sons,” Lewyn said, sounding amused.

“Oh gods,” Daemon sighed. “Well, at any rate, I’ve acquired a ship for you to take him home on, and I’m sending you with a hundred Unsullied”

“Then I suppose I’m off,” Lewyn said. “Take care of yourself, my prince, and my great-nieces.”

“Of course,” Daemon replied. “Farewell.”

“Farewell,” Lewyn replied. “I must say that I am curious what an emperor’s gratitude will end up looking like if Bu Zaiji ends up being what he says.”

“It could be significant,” Daemon mused.

With that, they departed from the slaver’s pyramid and returned to the harbor.  When they arrived, Daemon ordered a century of Unsullied to escort Lewyn and the little prince on their journey and was about to board the Silence when he saw Arianne approaching, flanked by the sand snakes, Bellegere, Missandei, and a frankly absurd number of Unsullied.

“What were you doing out there?” he asked as she approached.

“I overheard a couple of the nobles we sat near at the pit talking about a menagerie and decided to see what animals they had for sale,” Arianne replied.

It was then that he noticed a couple of their guards holding what looked like a large cage covered by a dark sheet.

“Look,” Arianne said.

Daemon pulled the sheet up just enough to see a truly massive bird inside the cage.  It had to be an eagle of sorts, but it was larger than any he had seen before.  Most of its feathers were either white or black, with some shades of gray found along its neck and face.  Its large, curved black beak looked powerful, and its dark eyes glared at him balefully.

“The shopkeep called it a harpy eagle,” Arianne said.

“Naturally,” Daemon snorted. “Thank you.”

“I knew that you wanted one,” Arianne said, smiling up at him.

“We saw another one of those Calisters is it?” Tyene asked.

“Khalasar,” Missandei corrected. “Some Khal had come to Meereen to exchange gifts.”

“It couldn’t be the same one we saw in Yunkai, right?” Daemon asked.

“No,” Bellegere replied. “This one looked younger.”

“It is as I said, the Dothraki are the heart of the slave trade,” Missandei said.

“Indeed,” Daemon said. Turning to the Unsullied holding the cage, he ordered, “bring the cage to the cabin next to mine.  I’ll deal with the eagle later.”

With that, he led them aboard the ship and stalked towards his quarters.  When Missandei had told him that he was wrong about pirates being a major source of slaves, he was grateful to have learned that before he wasted his time.  He had brought her along for her insight, and she proved herself quite early on.

These Dothraki seemed to be of a vile sort; pillage and rape apparently the cornerstones of their entire culture.  They had been terrorizing the people of Essos for centuries and were an integral part of the slave trade.  In many respects, they reminded him of the Ironborn, albeit with a ridiculous fear of the sea, and that parallel gave him many ideas.

Fishing a key from the chain he kept around his neck, Daemon retrieved a small, wooden chest and opened it to retrieve the sheaved dagger inside.  Arianne and the others walked in just as he was unsheathing the blade, revealing the golden stain along the blade.

“I’ve never seen that dagger before,” Arianne commented. “Is it made of gold?”

“It’s Valyrian steel,” Daemon replied. “That color is a stain and it makes this probably the most valuable thing I possess.”

“Is that why none of us have ever seen it before?” Nymeria asked, looking at the blade covetously.

“Once I’ve used it, you can try it out,” Daemon chuckled, seeing how she was looking at it.

“Used it for what?” Arianne asked.

Daemon smirked and put the blade away as he said, “the first stage of my plan.”