Seeking Satisfaction (Patreon)

What was supposed to be a goofy little crackfic turned into a goofy, rather large crackfic and something that I thought would be a fun thing to post on my birthday.  Enjoy.

Rhaegar rubbed his temples as he watched his sister pace in front of him, visibly frustrated.  A king never wanted for things that could give him a headache, having to deal with the multifarious issues that arose on a regular basis within his lands.  Ruling over kingdoms made up of very different groups of people added its own challenges and potential causes for headaches.  With these challenges, the last thing he needed was his children or sister, who, due to her age, was more like his daughter than anything else, giving him more to worry about.

“It’s insulting!” Daenerys snarled, her temper in full force. “Those sniping harpies are speaking as though I’m some sort of monster.  I’m not the only woman that this has ever happened to; Lady Myranda Royce suffered the same unfortunate fate not three years ago.”

“The Royce girl’s husband was older than her own father,” Rhaegar said.

“Edmure was more than twice my age,” Daenerys spat.

“He was five and thirty,” Rhaegar hissed, “and in perfectly good health.  I am sorry for what you’ve gone through and the consequences that have come of it, but I assure you, it hasn’t been any easier on me.  Figuring out a way to explain that my sister’s new husband died in their wedding bed would have been frustrating enough without needing to pick a new Lord Paramount of the Trident.”

That made Daenerys look chastised for a moment, though it quickly passed. “I knew that marriage was a bad idea.”

“As you have said many times,” Rhaegar sighed. “You know damn well why we had to move with haste to find you a husband.”

“Yes, because my precious virtue had been tainted,” Daenerys scowled. “I took greater care with finding a lover than any prince ever has.  Morgan was perfectly discreet. and thanks to the disease he had suffered as a boy, he could not father children.  Were I a man…”

“You are not!” Rhaegar snarled, completely at his wits end. “You are a woman, and more than that, a woman grown.  You are too old to pretend to live in a world that you do not.  For all of your boy-whore’s alleged discretion, it didn’t stop you from getting caught.”

“Only because…” Daenerys went to argue.

“Enough!” Rhaegar bellowed, finally silencing his tempestuous sister. “What’s done is done.  As a widow, we at least don’t have to account for your maidenhead.  You will remain officially in mourning for an appropriate amount of time, during which I do not want to hear even a whisper of scandal from you.  The upcoming tourney we’ll be holding in a few moons will be an opportunity for you to find another husband, one of you choosing this time.”

“Truly?” Daenerys asked, perking up at his words. “I’ll get to choose who I like?”

“I do not want a repeat of these disastrous few weeks, Dany,” Rhaegar sighed. “So long as he is nobleborn, I will allow you to wed who you choose, but be warned, there cannot be any further reason for the lords to question you.”

“I’ll choose wisely,” Daenerys promised, looking well-pleased. “May I go?”

“Please do,” Rhaegar said, looking down at the collection of coats of arms before him on his desk.

He looked up in time to see Daenerys, draped in her black mourning dress, exit his solar and sighed.  Wishing that Viserys was still with them so that he’d have an easy match for their sister, he looked back down at the options he had to replace the Tullys.  Truth be told, he had never been fond of the family, having seen their reason for joining the rebellion as entirely self-serving as opposed to the other most prominent houses.  He hadn’t felt strong enough to truly punish them back at the end of the rebellion, still feeling guilty for sparking the entire thing.

“In the end, I did end up striking them down,” he chuckled humorlessly to himself. “I just did it in a way that never would have occurred to me.

His gaze fell again on the simple image of a plowman set against a brown background.  They might have the most boring coat of arms in all of Westeros, but the Darrys were unceasingly loyal and deserved the reward.  With his mind made up, Rhaegar put his documents away and poured himself a cup of wine.

“Gods above, I hope this goes well,” he murmured to himself. “At least I don’t have to worry about Aegon and Rhaenys.”

*****

“Fucking hells, Ros!” Jon groaned as the redhead did her best to suck his soul out of his cock.

She giggled at his words, earning herself another groan.  He had taken his favorite a whore multiple times over the course of however long he had been in Wintertown that night, and she begged to be allowed to finish him this last time with her mouth to give her poor gaping cunt a break.  Always happy to enjoy her downright magical mouth, Jon said yes without hesitation.

“Fuck!” he exclaimed as he came, pouring his fourth load of the night down her gullet.

“So much!” Ros gasped as she let his softening cock slip from her lips. “I swear you make more seed than any man I’ve known.”

“Best keep up with your moon tea then,” Jon panted as he reached for his coin purse.

“You’re the only man I’ve ever had that I felt bad about charging,” Ros chuckled as she accepted the coin.

“I bet you say that to all the men,” Jon laughed.

“I really don’t,” Ros said seriously. “It’s never a chore with you, milord.”

Jon just smiled at her and got dressed.  She wasn’t the first whore to say something like that, but he never tired of hearing it.

“Jon!” Robb called out.

“Duty calls?” Ros asked as she finished putting on her dress.

“It’s a bit fucking late for duty,” Jon replied, hoping nothing serious was happening.  His brother didn’t sound panicked, so that was a good sign.  As he descended the stairs, he spotted the familiar head of red hair and said, “Robb?”

“How did I know I’d find you here?” Robb asked, shaking his head.

“Because it’s a day of the week?” Marya, the busty madam, asked, giggling before looking embarrassed. “Er, I’m sorry milord.”

“It’s fine, Marya,” Robb said. “Come, Father wants a word.”

“Sounds serious,” Jon said, joining his brother.  In a quieter voice, he asked, “we’re not under attack, are we?”

“After what you did to the Ironborn, who the hell would even try it?” Robb asked.

“I doubt the Wildings get much news from the Seven Kingdoms,” Jon said.

“Well, no, we’re not under attack, though at least that would give me something to do,” Robb said sulkily.

“What’s wrong?” Jon asked as they left the brothel and joined their guards.

“There’s a tourney being held in King’s Landing,” Robb said. “We’ve been invited, and we’re not going.”

“That’s not so strange,” Jon said, puzzled at his brother’s reaction. “The men of the North rarely join in on the Southern festivities.”

“It’s why we’re not going that annoys me,” Robb said. “Mother went as red as her hair when I asked about it.”

“What’s her problem?” Jon asked, keeping the scowl off of his face at the mention of Lady Catelyn only by force.

“Uncle Edmure,” Robb said.

“Oh,” Jon said.

He would never admit it, but he had been deeply amused when he learned of just how the lord of Riverrun had died.  He had heard of old men biting off more than they could chew when they wed much younger women, but a man that young dying trying to bed his wife was absurd.

“Yes, oh,” Robb sulked. “I understand Mother being angry about what happened to him, but she’s acting like the princess is…”

Robb trailed off, and Jon turned to him, asking, “is what?”

“Probably best not said in public,” Robb said.

“We’re virtually alone, and no one in this town gives a toss about the royal family,” Jon said, rolling his eyes.  Turning to one of their guards, he asked, “you’re not the heir to Winterfell, so can you tell me?”

“Go ahead,” Robb sighed.

“Rumor has it that the princess is a woman of great wantonness,” the man said.

“That’s one way to put it,” another guard snorted. “They say her appetites are endless and that she craves sex day and night.”

“They say she gathered a score of lovers behind the king’s back to sate her needs, each one with a cock like a horse,” a third guard said, “and that she was only married off because the king found out.”

“Surely your uncle would have had some assurance that his bride was a maid,” Jon said. “Isn’t that how it works for the trueborn?”

“Given the Rebellion, I doubt my uncle looked that particular gifthorse in the mouth,” Robb replied. “Wedding the king’s sister could have gone a long way towards repairing relations with the crown, had it worked out.”

“Instead, she exhausted the poor man to the point of death,” one of the guards said.

“That’s enough,” Robb said as one of them muttered something that sounded like “what a way to go.”

“So what does this have to do with you not going south for the tourney?” Jon asked.

“Mother seems to think that I’ll end up seduced and share my uncle’s fate if I do,” Robb said, shaking his head.

“That’s ridiculous,” Jon laughed. “Even if she did turn her gaze your way, you’re young and strong.”

“I’m well aware,” Robb sighed.

They arrived at Winterfell not long afterwards and Jon quickly made his way to his father’s solar.

“Come in, Jon,” Ned called the moment he knocked on the door.

“Robb said that you wanted to see me?” Jon asked.

“I do,” Ned said. “Close the door and have a seat.”

Jon sat down, wondering what exactly his father wanted of him.

“Did Robb tell you about the tourney?” Ned asked.

“He did,” Jon replied. “He seemed quite put out that he wouldn’t get to take part.”

“I’m aware,” Ned said tiredly. “Having lost their Lord Paramount only a few moons ago, the Riverlands won’t be sending many men down to the capital…”

“And Lady Catelyn wishes for the North to do the same?” Jon asked.

“Yes,” Ned replied. “The men of the North don’t often participate in southern tournies in great numbers anyway, so this won’t be difficult to explain, but given the scope of this one and the fact that it’s being held by the King himself, I can’t send no one at all.”

“Wait, are you asking me to be your representative?” Jon asked.

“I am,” Ned said. “You will go with a sufficient number of second sons so that we don’t appear to be giving insult to the Crown.”

“Won’t sending a bastard as your representative be seen in itself as an insult?” Jon asked. “You know as well as I do what Andals are like.”

“You’re not just a bastard, Jon,” Ned said. “You’re my son, and beyond that, you gained quite a reputation for how you handled the Ironborn.”

Jon looked at his father in shock.  In the year or so since the short war between their kingdoms, he hadn’t once spoken of it to him without angrily reminding him that he had started it.

“I’m still displeased about how things began,” his father clarified, “but I cannot deny that you served the North well, and you are most deserving of the praise you’ve earned.  News of the North rarely ventures south, but I know from your namesake that the tale of the Northern bastard who soaked the lands of the North with the blood of Ironmen has reached at least as far as the Vale.”

“I just did my duty,” Jon said. “And cleaned up my mess.”

“Remember, son,” Ned said, “you’re going to be representing the North, so try not to get into trouble.”

“I never try to get into trouble,” Jon said, earning a stern look from his father.

*****

“It seems that nearly everyone’s arrived,” Rhaenys commented, taking a grape from the serving tray they had brought with them.

“The tourney starts in a few days, so I should hope so,” Daenerys said, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin.

Her mourning period had officially ended days ago, and she had been enjoying being able to wear dresses that didn’t look like black septa’s robes.  It was still summer, and it had been intolerable, even for her.  As she spotted Aegon approaching them, she waved to him.

“Daenerys, my darling Rhaenys,” Aegon said, kneeling down to kiss Rhaenys.

“Egg,” Rhaenys said, her voice full of affection, “did you manage to…”

“No, I’m afraid,” Aegon replied.

“Eh, it was a longshot,” Rhaenys said, “given how busy I imagine they are.”

“What’s going on?” Daenerys asked.

Looking around to make sure no one was within earshot, Rhaenys said, “Aegon was going to arrange for the two of us to share one of Chataya’s girls tonight.”

“Which one?” Daenerys asked.

“Dancy,” Aegon said, sitting down with them.

“Oh, isn’t she gorgeous?” Daenerys asked. “Breasts the size of her head, and that hair is so pretty.”

Aegon laughed and wrapped an arm around Rhaenys.

“You two decided to spend the morning sitting down under the shade of a tree?” he asked.

“It seemed like a lovely way to spend it,” Rhaenys said.

“It’s a simply beautiful day,” Daenerys added. “So I take it, Dancy was just booked full?  With half the knights in the realm in the city, I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“I’d wager it;s more than half,” Aegon said, “but no, it wasn’t that.  The brothel was busy, but apparently some Northman ran her, Alayaya, and Marei all ragged last night.  They spent half the morning recovering and had to make it up.”

“Oh?” Daenerys asked, instantly intrigued.

“Chataya made it sound like the three of them were taken until they passed out,” Aegon said.

“Did she say his name?” Daenerys asked, feeling heat pool low in her belly as she wondered what sort of man could exhaust three seasoned whores.

“For one thing, I didn’t think to ask, and beyond that, the woman runs a brothel; she’d be more discreet than that,” Aegon said.

“Dany,” Rhaenys said warningly.

“What?” Daenerys asked with an innocence neither of them bought. “It’s just intriguing, is all.”

“Right,” Rhaenys said. “I would remind you that there is more to look for in a man than his ability in bed.”

“I know that,” Daenerys said. “I just don’t want to tie myself to a man who can’t please me.  If the Northerners are here, then everyone who is coming should be.  I’ll have plenty of opportunities over the next week to meet and get to know various noblemen, and that should help me figure out who I want to hear more from, but I won’t be able to learn what sort of lovers they’d be just by talking to them.”

“You could just send a trusted servant to ask the whores,” Aegon suggested.

“That’s what I was thinking,” Daenerys said.

Rhaenys just rolled her eyes and said, “just be careful.  Father has largely gotten over what happened, but he’s going to remain sensitive to scandal where you’re concerned for a while.”

“He stopped glaring at me a few weeks ago,” Daenerys said.

“He was just surprised,” Aegon said. “You’re the youngest of us, and he’s always seen you as…”

“A perfect little girl, I’m aware,” Daenerys huffed.

“Learning that you had been visiting a brothel regularly came as a shock to him, especially when it turned out that the whore you’d been seeing was a man,” Aegon said.

“It didn’t start out that way,” Daenerys said. “Rhaenys told me about the secret tunnel leading to Chataya’s, and I convinced Ser Lewyn to escort me in disguise.”

“Uncle Lewyn’s always been so understanding,” Rhaenys said.

As a man who himself kept a lover despite his vows, Lewyn Martell had always understood that, so long as nothing came of it, a little fun wasn’t the worst thing in the world.  Daenerys was exceedingly happy that she had managed to keep his involvement hidden.

“After a few times enjoying the women there, Alayaya told me about one of the men her mother kept there who had suffered an ailment as a child that ruined his seed,” Daenerys said. “I was curious, and Morgan was handsome.  Before long, he had become a regular part of my visits.  It was all going so well.”

She looked off and scowled at the memory of her getting caught.  Poor Morgan had fled to the Wall almost immediately, fearing that he’d be gelded for fucking a princess, and before long, she’d been wed, her marriage lasting one night.

“Excuse me, you two; I think I’m going to talk to Ser Lewyn,” Daenerys said.

“Be careful, Dany,” Rhaenys sighed.

“Always,” Daenerys replied.

*****

“Are you sure this is a good idea, Princess?” Lewyn asked.

“It’ll be fine,” Daenerys said. “The only reason I got caught at all last time was because that drunken cunt barged in wanting his own night with Morgan.”

“All things considered, you are fortunate that it was the Lord Hand who caught you,” Lewyn said.  When she looked at him like he had gone mad, he added, “few men are as loyal to your father as Connington.  He could be trusted to tell no one else.”

Ser Lewyn had a point there, though Daenerys fantasized now and then about flying atop Balerion and repaying the man in full for the trouble he’d caused her.  As they reached the door leading to Chataya’s, she paused.

“My disguise is as it normally is, right?” she asked.  It had been so long; she was afraid that she had messed it up somehow.

“I still say that your skin is too perfect to belong to a boy who would wear clothes like these,” Lewyn said, “but, as usual, you look like a nobleboy trying to appear lowborn rather than a princess trying to appear as a lowborn boy.”

“Good enough,” Daenerys said, heading inside.

She was immediately assaulted by the sounds and smells of sex, with the aroma of wine adding to the delightful mix.

“Gods, I’ve missed this,” she thought to herself.

It had been moons since she had been touched by anything but her own hand, and being back in the brothel immediately reminded her just how pent-up she really was.

“I’m surprised to see you, Ser,” Alayaya commented as she spotted them.

“Yaya,” Daenerys said, lowering the pitch of her voice as much as she could, which wasn’t much.

“I’m sorry about how things went last time,” Alayaya said.

“As am I,” Daenerys commented, still feeling bad about how Morgan had to flee.

“If you would like, I could probably find time to…” Alayaya went to say.

“Alayaya,” Chataya said sharply. “See to the gentleman in blue over there.”

“Yes, Mother,” Alayaya said. “Farewell, Daemon.”

“Yes, Daemon,” Chataya said, using the name she had chosen for her disguise, “please, come with me.”

Daenerys followed her, with Lewyn close at hand.  As Chataya entered her room, Daenerys signaled for Lewyn to guard the door and closed it behind her.

“Far be it for me to order about royalty, Daemon, but you shouldn’t be here,” Chataya said. “If you were caught again, it would end poorly for the both of us.”

“The likelihood of that is slim,” Daenerys said. “If your guards had restrained that drunken fool, I wouldn’t have been caught at all.”

“Restraining the Hand of the King is a tall order,” Chataya said. “The risk of you being spotted is even worse than normal because of how busy we are.”

“I know,” Daenerys said. “I didn’t actually come here for that.”

“Oh?” Chataya asked.

“First off, I wanted to apologize for Morgan,” Daenerys said.

“You don’t have to feel too badly about that,” Chataya said.

“He fled to the Wall,” Daenerys said.

“No, he didn’t,” Chataya said.  At Daenerys’ confused look, she said, “begging your pardon, but I knew you were going to be trouble from the moment you walked in here, and you paid exceptionally well, so I started putting aside a part of what you paid every time you came here for just in case things went poorly.”

“Smart,” Daenerys said.

“Thank you,” Chataya said. “When I realized that Morgan was going to have to flee quickly, I arranged for him to get onto a ship headed to Braavos and let the rumor spread that he had fled in the night, seeking the Wall.”

“Thank the gods,” Daenerys said, happy to learn that her old lover wasn’t going to freeze his rather impressive cock off in the most miserable place in Westeros.

“Was there anything else?” Chataya asked.

“I wanted to ask about a patron who was here last night,” Daenerys said. “One who had your daughter, Dancy, and Marei.  I understand that he left quite an impression on all three of them.”

Chataya laughed at that. “That’s one way of putting it.  I’ve never seen three happier-looking women than they were by the time he was finished.”

“Who was he?” Daenerys asked breathlessly.

“I would normally be more discreet than this, but given who you are and who he is, I doubt it matters,” Chataya said. “He was a man named Snow.”

“A bastard from the North?” Daenerys asked.

“Apparently the son of the high lord of those lands,” Chataya said.

“Ned Stark?” Daenerys asked.

“Stark!” Chataya exclaimed, “that was it.”

“What was he like?” Daenerys asked.

“Looking for gossip, or something more?” Chataya asked.

“I’m looking for a new husband,” Daenerys said.

“Yes, I heard about what happened,” Chataya said. “I’m sorry.  That must have been unpleasant.”

“Horrifying,” Daenerys said. “I was riding him and thought he’d just passed out on me, so I kept going until I realized that he’d stopped breathing.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised you were too much for him,” Chataya said. “Morgan was rather gifted, and it usually took him and one of the girls together to sate you.”

“I like sex,” Daenerys said defensively.

“As do we all,” Chataya said mirthfully. “You won’t be able to marry this Snow, I imagine.”

“Probably not,” Daenerys said. “Unless he’s exceptionally wealthy or rides a dragon, my brother would be highly against the union.”

“He claims to possess two Valyrian steel swords,” Chataya said.

“And here I thought men only lied to women if they couldn’t just pay them for sex,” Daenerys said dryly.

“I wouldn’t be so sure that he was lying,” Chataya said. “He was boasting, yes, and drinking, but he seems rather wealthy in general.  He was able to afford three of my most expensive girls seemingly without issue.”

“It does seem odd that his lord father would give him that kind of coin,” Daenerys commented.

That Lord Stark acknowledged his bastard alone was rare.  Giving his bastard a significant amount of coin would be odd even if the Starks were as wealthy as the Lannisters, though, and they certainly weren’t.

“He claimed to have taken them from those pirates who live off the western coast here,” Chataya said.

“The Ironborn?” Daenerys asked.

“That’s them,” Chataya replied.

That did lend some credibility to the bastard’s story.  Daenerys knew that the Ironborn had invaded the North the previous year after Lord Greyjoy’s son, Theon, was killed in some dispute.  The Northerners had crushed the invading force so thoroughly that they had actually managed to take their ships and raid them in return.  By the time her brother learned of it, the Iron Islands were in a shambles.  It had been quite the headache for him.  If this bastard was gifted not one but two Valyrian steel swords, he must have really impressed his father on the battlefield.

“Did he have the look of a warrior?” Daenerys asked.

“He had the look of your Warrior,” Chataya laughed. “Very tall and very strong, with a full beard and piercing purple eyes.”

“Purple?” Daenerys asked.

“A shade or two darker than yours,” Chataya said. “There wasn’t a girl in here who wasn’t willing and eager to bed him, myself included.”

“And he impressed the three that he did choose?” Daenerys asked, growing more interested in this man the more she heard.

“None could use words by the time he left, as exhausted as they were,” Chataya said. “Once they woke, they all said the same thing: that his passions were endless, that he seemed to know their bodies better than they did, that he fucked like a bull and was just about as gifted between his legs.”

Daenerys was nearly panting by the time Chataya finished.  When she had heard about one man fucking three whores to the point of exhaustion, she hoped that he was a young, attractive, and unmarried lord, or lord’s son.  She had been hoping for a trueborn son, as convincing her brother to let her wed a bastard would be a tall order, but as she pictured this apparent god among men in her mind, marriage was the last thing on her mind.  It had been so long and her appetites had grown so ravenous, that an idea started to form in her mind.  It was probably a bad one, but if she could pull it off without getting caught, she wouldn’t have to worry about her brother finding out.

“Aside from his skill, how else did the girls describe him?” Daenerys asked.

“He was kind and courteous enough,” Chataya said. “They had no complaints.”

That sealed it for Daenerys, who quickly said, “I have an unusual request.”

“So long as it doesn’t involve one of my whores, I’m willing,” Chataya said. “I’m not jesting about how unbelievably busy we are right now.”

“Oh, I can hear how busy you are,” Daenerys said as the sounds of sex continued to echo through the brothel. “It doesn’t involve a whore; it involves that client, a mansion that’s belonged to my family since at least the days of Aegon IV, and possibly one of your girl’s dresses.”

Chataya just cocked an eyebrow at her.

“You said yourself, I pay well,” Daenerys said.

Chataya just sighed. “Against my better judgment, I’ll ask: what do you need?”

Daenerys just grinned and started her explanation.

*****

Jon had to admit, as he reached the mansion that Chataya had described, that he was a little apprehensive about this.  When he had arrived back at the brothel he had spent the previous night in, it had been even more packed than it had been that night and the madam had explained that no one was available.  The beautiful Summer Islander said that her girls had spoken very highly of him, however, and that she had something special available.  One of the brothel’s wealthier regulars apparently owned a manse in the city that he allowed her to use to train new whores that she didn’t think were ready for the brothel just yet.

“You were so good to my daughter and the others the other night that I think you would be an ideal man to show one of my most promising new arrivals the full experience that she can expect,” Chataya said. “For the same rate as yesterday, I’ll let you have a girl who has only ever had one other man all day tomorrow.”

“What’s she like?” Jon asked.

“A true Valyrian beauty,” Chataya said. “Purple eyes, silver-gold hair, skin like silk, and a body made for sin.  I’m pretty sure she’s a royal bastard.”

“Really?” Jon asked, instantly intrigued.

“Oh yes,” Chataya said. “She is easily the most beautiful girl I have ever seen.  Are you interested?”

“Definitely,” Jon replied, grinning.

“Just follow the directions on this map,” Chataya said, handing him a piece of parchment with a crude man of King’s Landing on it.

Jon had no reason to think that Chataya was setting him up, and he was armed, just in case.  He would have felt better if he had either of his Valyrian steel swords with him, but he had already given both Red Rain and Nightfall to the local blacksmith, wanting work done on them.

As he reached the mansion, he knocked on the door and waited no more than a moment before it opened, revealing an older Dornishman.

“You’re Snow?” he asked.

“Jon Snow, yes,” Jon replied.

“Come in,” the Dornishman said.

Jon entered the manse and was taken aback by the sheer opulence on display.  Whoever Chataya’s generous client was, he was certainly rich.  He also wasn’t around much, if the dust on most of the surfaces of the manse was any indication.

“Your sword,” the Dornishman said.

“What?” Jon asked.

“Your sword,” the Dornishman repeated. “You will not bring it with you upstairs.”

“I kept my sword at the brothel,” Jon pointed out.

“There were more guards there,” the Dornishman said, holding out his hand.

There was something about the man that was striking Jon as odd.  He didn’t hold himself like the kind of lowborn thug that was usually hired to guard brothels.  Instead, his demeanor reminded Jon more of his father’s.  He was clearly a seasoned warrior too; that much was clear to Jon.  Wondering again if he was being set up, he was about to object again when a beautiful voice called out from the stairs.

“This is him, then?” a woman asked.

Jon turned, and he felt his heart skip a beat at the vision before him.  Long silver-gold hair fell to her lower back in ringlets, contrasting with the purple dress she wore.  Said dress covered everything that it had to and little else besides, leaving her arms, most of her chest, and, it seemed, her entire back bare.  There was an open space in the middle of it, exposing her navel and much of her soft-looking belly, and a long slit in the floor-length skirt that revealed her leg up to her hip.  Even more alluring than her figure, which her dress showed off perfectly, or the large, full breasts that the dress barely contained, was her face, the most beautiful he had ever seen.  Heart-shaped, with prominent cheekbones and a cute, slightly up-turned nose, her most beautiful feature had to be her full lips, which he honestly couldn’t decide whether he was eagerer to kiss or see wrapped around his cock.

“Your sword,” the Dornishman almost growled when he took a step forward.  Jon looked over and noticed that the man seemed to be trying to look at anything other than the goddess that awaited him, but he was well past the point of questioning things and handed over his sword without a word.

“I’m Jon Snow,” he said as he turned to the girl, who was staring down at him in open lust.

“I’m Dany,” the girl said. “Please come upstairs.”

“Are you certain...Dany?” the Dornishman asked.

“Quite,” Dany said. “Guard the door and make sure that we are undisturbed.”

Her tone was as demanding and imperious as he had ever heard Lady Catelyn sound, and Jon was about to question that when he closed the distance between them and realized that he had been wrong before.  Her lips, though beautiful in a way he had never thought lips could be, were not her most beautiful feature.  That had to be her eyes, and Jon found himself captivated by the violet orbs.

“Oh my, they really are purple,” Dany said, looking up at him.

“You took the words right out of my mouth, Dany,” he said, and he smirked at how she shivered at his voice.

“Purple eyes are common in my family,” Dany giggled. “Are they common in yours?”

“Not as such,” Jon said. “My mother was Ashara Dayne.”

“Oh,” Dany said. “I’m so sorry.  My mother died the night I was born, so I know what that’s like.”

“How did you know that?” Jon asked.

“Hmm?” Dany asked before she reddened slightly. “Sorry, my lord, it’s just that you said your mother was Ashara Dayne, so I assumed that she died.”

“Aye,” Jon said sadly, still feeling like something wasn’t right here.

“Would you like some wine?” Dany asked.

“Or ale, if you have it,” Jon said.

“Only wine, I’m afraid,” Dany said, taking his hand.

He felt a spark as her impossibly soft hand touched his, and if the way she flinched was any indication, she felt it as well.  Letting her lead the way, his eyes were drawn to her incredible arse as it swayed in her dress.  He had thought that Alayaya and Chataya had the greatest arses he had ever seen, but this Dany’s seemed to be even bigger.  Without thinking, he grabbed a handful of one of her bountiful cheeks, making her gasp and turn around to look at him.

“You’re going to have to get used to having this beauty grabbed, girl,” Jon chuckled.

“Right, of course,” she said, relaxing and looking slightly embarrassed.

Finally, they reached a bedroom, and Jon gawked at the sheer wealth on display.  He didn’t know if there was a single room in Winterfell that was this ornately decorated.  Dany rushed inside and poured a couple cups of wine.

“Here you are,” Dany said, handing him one of them.

“I must admit, this isn’t bad,” Jon said as he sipped it.

“Oh, it’s lovely,” Dany said. “Is this your first time in the south?”

“I was born in Dorne,” Jon said, “but this is my first time this far south that I can remember.”

“Have you ever thought of visiting Dorne?” Dany asked.

“I’d love to,” Jon said. “To visit Starfall and see where my mother grew up, it would be wonderful.”

“Why haven’t you?” Dany asked. “Miss Chataya said that you were very wealthy.”

“I just haven’t had the time,” Jon said, “and most of my wealth is in two Valyrian Steel swords.”

“She mentioned them,” Dany said. “Did you hand one of them to the guard downstairs?”

“I wouldn’t have given him one of those,” Jon scoffed. “He could have run off with it and lived the rest of his life as a very rich man.”

“He is honest and honorable, but I see your point,” Dany said. “Where are they?”

“I gave them to a smith named Torbo Mott,” Jon said. “They’re a great sword and a longsword, respectively, and I’ve always preferred bastard swords, so I wanted them reforged, and he claimed that he could.”

“He can,” Dany said. “When R...the king retrieved Blackfyre from across the Narrow Sea, he brought it to Mott to have it reforged.”

“You’re very knowledgeable for a whore,” Jon commented.

“You would surprised what secrets men spill once they spilled,” Dany said. “Speaking of...”

She reached up and kissed him, and Jon felt a shock go down his spine.  She tasted of wine and honey, and he immediately wanted more.  Dragging her into his lap, she was caught off guard and accidentally spilled wine down her dress.

“Seven hells!” she exclaimed in annoyance.

“Worry not, I’ll get it,” Jon said, burying his face between her breasts.  He drank what wine he could reach, bathing her bountiful tits with his tongue.

“Oh gods,” Dany sighed, grabbing his head and holding him to her chest.

He pulled the flimsy dress down, unveiling the greatest pair of tits he had ever seen.  Large and full, yet firm and perky, they were the sort of breasts that could inspire an artist to spend the rest of his life trying to recreate them.  Perfectly pale and capped with large rosy pink nipples, they were as beautiful as the woman they belonged to, and Jon immediately set to work worshiping every inch of them with his lips, tongue, and teeth.

“Fucking gorgeous,” he murmured against her chest as he started sucking on one of her nipples.

“That feels so fucking good,” Dany whimpered, shivering in delight at his touch.

Jon pulled back and cupped the mounds, finding that they fit his large hands perfectly.  He kept his eyes fixed on her face as he kneaded them, enjoying her look of pleasure immensely.

“Where are you from?” he asked.

“I was born on Dragonstone,” Dany replied, an odd mischievous twinkle in her violet eyes.

“So you are a royal bastard then,” Jon said.

“I wouldn’t know,” Dany said. “My mother died giving birth to me as I said.”

“You said that purple eyes run in your family, though,” Jon pointed out.

Dany grimaced for just a moment before she said, “I...I had two brothers, and they had eyes like mine.  We never knew who our father was.”

“So you came here seeking work?” Jon said.

“The gods gave me beauty and an insatiable appetite,” Dany cooed. “The idea of making a living getting fucked appealed to me greatly.”

“We’ll see how insatiable you are,” Jon said, his voice dripping with lust and desire. “I’ve yet to meet a woman who hasn’t grown too tired to continue before I was done with them.”

“What a coincidence!” Dany exclaimed. “I’ve yet to meet anyone who could satisfy me.”

“Chataya said you had had only one man before,” Jon said.

“Tis true,” Dany said. “He was very sweet, but he was never enough for me.  Most nights I had to turn to some of the other whores to sate me after he was finished.”

Jon felt his cock grow painfully hard in his breeches. “You’re telling me that you and the other girls…”

“Fingers are fingers, a tongue is a tongue, and I’ve always loved the taste of cunt,” Dany said, openly enjoying what she was doing to him.

“What does yours taste like?” Jon asked, barely suppressing a shudder.

“What to find out?” Dany asked, standing up and letting her dress pool at her feet.

Jon just stared at the beauty in front of him for a solid moment.  There wasn’t a hair on her body; careful effort had been taken to leave her smooth, but there could be no doubt that she was a woman grown.  She looked remarkably soft for someone who had grown up the daughter of a servant, and as Jon let his eyes  trail over every curve of her body, he wondered how she’d managed to live so comfortably.  He had thought her breasts would be her greatest asset, but as she stood before him, he wasn’t sure.  Her soft belly and narrow waist led to some of the widest hips he had ever seen, and as she twirled around for his viewing pleasure, he saw that her arse was even better than he had imagined, round and wonderfully plump.  He wanted to taste every inch of her, especially the full, fleshy lips of her cunt, but first, he needed to feel her lips around his cock.

“Oh, I will,” he said, “but first, you’re going to show me how talented that pretty mouth of yours is.”

Dany shuddered and didn’t say a word as she rushed to undress him.  She was actually rather bad at that, and he ended up having to help her, but that inconvenience was more than worth it to see the look on her beautiful face as his cock sprang free from its bindings.  Those plump lips that he desperately wanted to feel wrapped around his member hung open as she beheld him.

“By the gods!” Dany gasped, looking down at his cock in wonder. “I knew you would be large, both from your stature and how the others described you, but this is...I’ve never even heard of a cock this big.”

“Bigger than your other man, then?” Jon asked smugly.

Ever since the first time a girl touched his prick, he had enjoyed their exclamations about his size.  It frightened some, and he had needed to learn how to carefully get them wet to enjoy them, but none had ever complained once he was buried inside them.

“Half again as long and nearly twice as thick,” Dany said, still looking entranced. “You’re going to feel so fucking good inside me.”

“Well, first, I want to see how good you can make me feel,” Jon said, walking over to the bed to sit down on it.

He heard her gasp again and mutter something that sounded like, “chiseled from fucking stone.”

“What was that?” he asked.

“You are remarkably strong, my lord,” Dany said, her eyes trailing up and down his body. “I don’t know if I’ve ever seen such muscles.”

“They say I came out of the womb with them,” Jon said.

“I hope you didn’t come out of the womb with this,” Dany cooed as she sank to her knees and wrapped her small, soft hand around his cock. “My fingers don’t even touch.”

“That would be one hell of a sight,” Jon laughed before groaning as she added her other hand.

“You’re bigger than the both of them,” Dany said in awe, openly marveling at the sight of his cock.

“Much as I like your appreciation, I’m not paying you to look at and cradle my cock in your hands,” Jon said.

“Of course, my lord,” Dany said. “I hope you don’t mind if I start this slowly.  A cock like this deserves proper worship.”

Before he could ask what she meant, she pressed her lips to the head of his cock and gave it a warm, wet kiss.  Jon sighed and settled into the amazingly comfortable bed as Dany started peppering his entire shaft with kisses, making sure not to miss a spot.  He normally would have preferred that a whore get to the point, as it were, but Chataya had made it clear that he could do whatever he wanted to Dany, within reason, for the entire night, so he knew that he had time.  When she moved down to his sack and nuzzled her face into it, he moaned.

“You smell so good,” Dany cooed.

“I bathed just this morNING!” Jon cried as she sucked one of his balls into her mouth.

“Fuck me, even your balls are massive,” Dany giggled. “Between the shaft and these, you’re like my own personal lemon tree.”

“Fuck, don’t stop!” Jon groaned, enjoying the exquisite pleasure of having his balls sucked.

“But I have to,” Dany said, licking a trail all the way up his cock until she reached the tip.  She flicked it over the tip, collecting the dewy droplet that had formed and making Jon’s legs shake. “How else could I do this?”

Without another word, she took his cock between her pillow lips and swallowed him whole.  Jon’s hands gripped the bedding, and a strangled cry erupted from his lips as she started bobbing her head up and down on his shaft, occasionally burying her nose in his pubic hair.  She gagged a little when she took him deep, but barely, and she seemed to not be bothered by it at all.

“By the gods, this whore could suck the stain off of wood,”Jon thought to himself, his brain marinating in pleasure. “I’m going to erupt like a green boy getting his cock touched for the first time if she keeps this up.”

Dany reached up, grabbing his hips and digging her nails into his muscular arse as she continued to fuck him with her face.  There was no other way of expressing what she was doing other than to say that she was doing her best to drive him as mad as the previous king.  When she started moaning around his shaft, the vibrations alone nearly finished him off, and he was too focused on enjoying the best cocksucking of his life to realize at first that her movements had grown erratic.  It wasn’t until she pulled off his cock, letting it slip from her tight lips with a pop, and screamed that he realized what was happening.  Dany grabbed the bed beside him and tried to hold herself up as her body writhed in pleasure.

“Did...did you cum?” Jon asked in complete disbelief.

“S...sorry!” Dany gasped, still panting for breath.

“Did you cum just from sucking my cock?” Jon asked again, still refusing to believe what he had just seen. “You weren’t even touching yourself.”

“Just...so much...fun,” Dany panted.

Jon had never been this hard in his life and didn’t know how long he was going to last once he was buried inside her, but he did know that he was going to fuck Dany until she was an insensate wreck, utterly ruined for all others by him.

“You love sucking cock that much?” Jon asked, his voice low and dangerous.

“Only yours,” Dany said, pulling herself up onto the bed.

“Such a whore!” Jon snarled, pulling her over until she was lying in his lap.

She just squeaked and then screamed when he brought his hand down onto her perfect arse.  The fat cheek rippled under the blow, and Jon watched it in awe.  Dany looked up at him, her face a mask of indignant rage, but one look at the sheer lust on his face made her shudder, and she just looked down at the bed.  He brought his hand down again, spanking the other cheek even as her perfect porcelain skin turned red.  One would think it had never been marked, and the surprised squeal she let out suggested that this was a first for her.

“You were born to suck cock,” Jon said as he spanked her again, “born to be a whore!”

“Yes!” Dany screamed, her whole body shaking with need.

“You’re going to need my cock like you need air by the time I’m done with you,” Jon said, smacking her fat arse. “I’m going to fucking ruin you!”

“Yes!” Dany squealed, tears leaking down her face. “Ruin me, own me, make me yours!”

Jon brought his fingers to her overflowing cunt and groaned at how hot and tight her tunnel seemed.  Bringing his fingers to his lips, he sucked her juices down greedily, groaning at the taste.  She tasted every bit as divine as he imagined, and that made him realize that she actually smelled better than any woman he had ever known.

“You got this wet just from sucking my cock and getting your arse smacked?” Jon asked.

“I got this wet just from seeing your cock, my lord,” Dany purred, looking up at him. “Seeing it and imagining just how deep inside me it could reach.  You’re going to hit places in my cunt, that have never been touched.”

“Lie down on your back,” Jon ordered, and she complied immediately, scrambling to do so.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” Dany asked, sounding as excited as Arya did when he gave her a sword for her last name day.

“Not yet,” Jon said. “Chataya said I have all day with you, and I intend to fuck you again and again until you’re utterly limp and exhausted, but first, I’m going to feast on your cunt.”

“Gods, please!” Dany said, her eyes nearly black with lust.

Jon sank to his knees and got his first, up-close look at her cunt.  Without hair in the way, he could see it fully, and he found it to be as utterly beautiful as the rest of her.  He had done this before, usually when he was with someone younger and less experienced, when he needed to make sure that she was well prepared for him.  He enjoyed it, and he suspected that he was going to enjoy this immensely.  Taking a page from her book, he started by kissing all around her slick, heated mound.

“Mmm, that feels amazing,” Dany cooed, spreading her legs even wider.

Jon just smiled and drew a little closer to her dewy core, his lips teasing her right next to her clit.  She shuddered and grabbed his head, trying to move him a little closer to where she wanted him most.  He chuckled at her audacity but didn’t let her get her way, continuing to tease her a while longer before taking mercy and using the flat of his tongue to stroke her entire sex.

“Yes!” Dany cried, her thighs clenching around his head. “More!”

That was a word he was sure that she used often throughout her life, as greedy and demanding a thing as she seemed to be.  He continued to worship at the alter of her womanhood, his long and dexterous tongue dancing over her heated flesh again and again.  He avoided the sensitive nub that crowned it, however, wanting to slowly build up her pleasure.  When he pierced her slick tunnel with his tongue, reaching deeply, he groaned again at the taste of her.

“Higher, please,” Dany begged, her nails starting to prick at his scalp in a way that felt wonderful.

Jon laughed and took mercy on her, moving up and swirling the tip of his tongue around her fully engorged clit.  He avoided touching the throbbing pearl itself, not knowing if licking the exposed part peeking out from its hood would be too much for her, and kept flicking his tongue over the rest of it.  She mewled and whimpered in pleasure, begging for more continuously, and Jon decided to add his fingers.

“Ugh gods!” Dany cried as he pushed two meaty fingers inside her tight tunnel.

“Gods above, she’s going to feel like a hot silk glove around me,”Jon thought to himself as he pumped his fingers in and out of her.

He reached upward, searching for a little rough patch that he knew would feel incredible for her, and after a moment, he found it, making her sit up and scream.

“Right there, right there,” Dany moaned. “Stroke me right there and lick my little pearl hard.  Fuck, I’m so close!”

Jon pumped his fingers in and out of her squelching heat, stroking that little spot again and again as he started licking her clit directly.  Dany’s moans and cries grew louder and more desperate as he continued, soaring towards her peak.  When he wrapped his lips around the little nub and started gently sucking on it, her moans turned to screams and then a loud shriek as she came hard.  Jon’s face was soaked as a geyser of her fluids erupted from her cunt.  Her thighs clamped around his head almost painfully, and her back arched off the bed as the pleasure overwhelmed her.  He backed away from her clit after a moment but continued fingering her, trying to see if he could make her come undone again immediately.

“What...what…” Dany asked, blinking rapidly to clear the tears and looking bewildered as she stared up at him. “What are you...oh gods, I’m going to cum again!”

“Cum for me, you whore,” Jon growled in her ear. “Let all of King’s Landing hear you scream for me.”

“FUCK!” Dany squealed as she came again, her whole body convulsing under him.

Jon pulled his fingers from her cunt, looking down at her writhing form with a grin, and held her steady.  Lining himself up with her still quivering quim, hepushed inside.  Dany’s eyes went wide, and her lips formed a gorgeous o.

“So...big!” Dany panted, still recovering from her orgasm.

Jon groaned, closing his eyes as he reveled in the feeling of her spasming tunnel.  She was so tight, so wet, and he swore she actually felt hotter than other women.  If she really was a Targaryen bastard, then maybe there was some truth to the idea that Valyrians had dragon blood in their veins.

“Go...slow,” Dany whimpered as she started to catch her breath.

“After the way you swallowed my cock without trouble, I almost expected this to be as easy,” Jon admitted, pulling back a little and pushing back inside.

“I’ve never had anything this big inside me,” Dany said, her voice strained. “It burns so good.”

“The burning will pass,” Jon said. “That’s just your cunt being stretched to its limits.”

“It’s...ohh...it’s never going to be the same,” Dany grunted, smiling up at him. “You’re going to ruin me.”

Jon knew that wasn’t true; after all, none of the whores he had fucked had been left unable to work, their cunts made too loose for lesser men to even feel them, but he also realized that Dany loved the idea of him breaking her.  Grabbing a handful of her gorgeous hair close to the scalp, he pulled her head back gently and licked a trail up her neck to her ear.

“By the time I’m done with you, you won’t even feel smaller men,” he whispered in her ear, making her shudder.

“Holy fuck!” Dany cried, bucking under him to try and take more of his cock into her drooling slit.

Slowly and carefully, he buried himself inside her depths, inch by inch, until, at last, he was resting against her.

“Shit!” Dany gasped as the last inch entered her. “I really...took it all.”

“Yes, you did,” Jon panted, more turned on than he had ever been in his life. “You feel so good, Dany.”

Dany wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him, taking him by surprise.  It was rare for a whore to be willing to kiss, much less initiate one.  Nonetheless, he welcomed the distraction and the excuse to stay still because he had already been harder than Valyrian steel before he even entered her, and her cunt felt better than anything he had ever been inside.  He knew that if he went too quickly, he’d finish before he wanted to, and he desperately wanted to feel her cum around his cock again before he did.

When she shoved her tongue into his mouth, he met it with his own and quickly dominated the kiss, making her moan into his mouth.  They continued trying to devour each other until the need for air finally forced them to part.

“You are a brute, Jon Snow,” Dany said, grinning up at him.

“That I do not deny, my gorgeous little whore,” Jon replied. “How does someone who does what you do have such utterly flawless skin?  My own noble sister isn’t as fair.”

“Luck, I suppose,” Dany replied, looking amused. “Fuck me, Jon.  Show me how you so impressed the other girls.”

“Happily,” Jon snarled, pulling most of his cock from her clinging depths and plunging back inside her hard.

“Yes!” Dany cried. “Just like that.  Don’t hold back.”

Jon groaned and worked his way up to a hard pace, pounding her perfect cunt.  He wasn’t going as fast or as hard as he could, as he still wanted to hold himself back, but it was hard enough to make her breasts bounce across her chest.  He watched the gorgeous mounds roll back and forth, utterly mesmerized.  He had never slept with a more beautiful woman, and he doubted he would ever know her equal.

“Harder!” Dany screamed, rocking herself against him in time with his thrusts. “Harder!  Yes, gods!”

She was certainly a vocal little thing and bizarrely demanding for the daughter of a servant, but he was in heaven buried inside her, and if she wanted him to take her brutally, that was what she was going to get.  She wrapped her legs around him, the heels of her soft feet against his arse.

“I could have you...a dozen times today...and want more,” Jon growled into her ear.

“Yes!” Dany cried. “Fuck me again and again until I can’t walk.”

Reaching down towards her clit with one hand and up to her throat with the other, he carefully pressed down.  Her eyes shot right to him in alarm, and he quickly moved to put her mind at ease.

“Don’t worry, Dany, I’m not going to hurt you,” he whispered in her ear. “What I am going to do is make you cum harder than you ever have in your life.  If you want that, blink twice.”

She did, and he squeezed just as hard as he dared while simultaneously rubbing her clit.  Her hands flew to the bed, clawing at the sheets as he started to pound her cunt as hard and fast as he could, seeking out a spot deep inside her that he barely managed to hold on long enough to find.  The second he did, her face turned red, she returned her hands to his back, and her wide eyes rolled back as her cunt started to flutter around his length.  Her body went taut as a bowstring, her back rising off of the bed, and just as he felt her start to cum let go, both of her throat and his own orgasm.

Burying his face in her neck as she raked her nails down his back so hard that he knew she’d draw blood, Jon groaned as he came harder than he could ever remember, filling her to the brim with his seed.  Dany was perfectly silent for a moment before she let out a scream so loud it probably echoed through the entire manse.  She soaked the bed as she squirted again, her whole body writhing in ecstasy as her orgasm thundered through her.  Jon held on throughout it, continuing to fuck her even as he grew painfully intense for him, wanting to draw out her pleasure as much as he possibly could.  Once their shared orgasm passed, Jon went still, panting as hard as he had at the end of any battle.  Pulling out of her, he rolled onto his back, staring at the canopy of the bed as he recovered.

“Fuck,” Dany panted, laughing.  A moment later she again panted, “fuck!”

This went on for a solid couple minutes of her just saying the word every few seconds, as though that single exclamation of shock and wonder was all that her brain could process in the aftermath of her titanic climax.

“You said that,” Jon chuckled after a while.

Dany rolled over and stared at him, her affection clear in her gorgeous purple eyes.

“No one’s ever fucked me like that,” she cooed, reaching over to cup his cheek.

“I’d say something smug, but the same is true for me,” Jon laughed, turning to look at her. “That was the hardest I’ve ever cum in my life.”

“I can tell,” Dany said, reaching down to run her fingers through her folds. “It feels like you spilled a bucketful of seed into me.”

Bringing her fingers to her lips, she made a show of slowly licking them clean, moaning at the taste like it was the greatest thing she had ever eaten.  The whole show made his cock twitch, already returning to full mast.  She looked down, and her eyes widened at the sight.

“You’ve not wilted,” Dany said in surprise.

“With you in bed with me, how could I?” Jon asked.

“I believe you said something about a dozen times,” Dany said, cocking an eyebrow at her.

Jon just laughed and pulled her to him until she was draped over his chest, staring down at him.

“I’m a man of my word,” he growled, rolling her onto her back again as she giggled.

*****

Pure satisfaction; there was no other way to put what Daenerys felt as she snuggled into Jon’s deliciously muscular chest, inhaling a mix of his delightfully masculine scent and the heady aroma of sex that lingered in the air.  She didn’t know if they actually did make it to a dozen rounds; there were times over the last few hours where she couldn’t recall her own name, but what she did know was that she was experiencing a bone-deep exhaustion the likes of which she had never known and an afterglow utterly unmatched in her life.

“I have to have him again,” she thought to herself as he lazily traced circles over her bare back.“If he really does have those swords, maybe I can use that to convince Rhaegar to let me keep him.”

“Come with me when I return north,” Jon said, lazily trailing his fingers over her back.

“And why would I do that?” she asked playfully, secretly pleased that he was thinking the same thing as her.

“So I can spend all my nights with you in my bed,” Jon rumbled in her ear, making her shiver.

“I fear the North would be too cold,” Daenerys said, smiling at him.

“I’d keep you warm,” Jon promised her.

Daenerys laughed and snuggled into him. “You are rather warm.”

“So are you,” Jon said, cupping her arse.

“What would become of me, though?” Daenerys asked.

“You’d warm my bed,” Jon said. “I’ll think of the rest when I can think again.”

“And afteryou wed?” Daenerys asked.

“I’m a bastard,” Jon said. “I have no expectationsbeyond loyalty to my family.  I think that my father would grant me a small keep if I asked it of him, and if not, once I sell one of the swords, I could buy a manse in Braavos and live all my days in warmth, surrounded by servants.  We could even wed if wedecided that we wanted to later on.”

“How did you get those swords?” she asked.

“I would expect talk of battles and bloodshed to be what a woman wants to hear after sex,” Jon said.

“I’m not most women,” Daenerys said.

“No, you’re really not,” Jon said, looking down at her with a well-sated smile on his face. “The North got into a scuffle with the Iron Islands.”

“I remember the king being...I remember hearing that the king was really angry about that, but I never heard what caused it,” Daenerys said.

“It was actually me, kind of,” Jon said, cringing. “After the Greyjoyrebellion, his grace sent Theon Greyjoy to live with my family in Winterfell.  We never got along, and one particular day, we got into a fight.”

“What was it over?” Daenerys asked.

“He was angry because a whore he’d been seeking a night with sought me out instead and made a crack about me being a bastard,” Jon said. “I responded with a joke about his father’s idiotic rebellion, and we fought.  It was broken up, but not before I’d thrashed him pretty well.  The next night, after he’d had a few too many, he drew a knife and tried to attack me.”

“You killed him?” Daenerys asked.

“No, he tripped and lodged the knife in his own chest,” Jon said. “It was actually hilarious, but Balon Greyjoy didn’t accept the explanation and invaded the North.  In the pivotal battle of the short war, my brother Robb was injured, and I had to take command of our men in his stead.  The Ironborn grew overconfident and rushed into a poor position where I managed to encircle them entirely despite being outnumbered.  By the time my father’s forces joined us, we had already crushed them, and I was so thoroughly coated in blood that his bannermen started calling me the Red Wolf.”

“Your brother recovered?” Daenerys asked.

“Oh yes, he was fine,” Jon said. “After the battle, for my valor, my father offered me first pick from the spoils, letting me take any two things.  He didn’t know that the swords were Valyrian steel, but I had actually killed both of the men who wielded them, so I did.  As I said, though I’m going to keep one of them, I intend to sell the other to a wealthy lord, and that will make me a very rich man.”

“I envy you, my lord,” Daenerys said.

“I’m no lord, but I could be as wealthy as one, and we could live in comfort,” Jon said. “You’re wasted here, in this foul-smelling city, in this type of work.  Tell me you wouldn’t have far more fun with me then you would at Chataya’s.”

Daenerys snorted and raised herself up to look down at Jon, brushing his dark hair out of his face.

“I’d love to go with you, but I have another idea,” she said.

“Oh?” Jon asked.

“Tywin Lannister has desperately wanted a Valyrian steel sword all his life,” Daenerys said. “He is also the wealthiest lord in the realm.  He would pay you enough gold to not just raise a small keep but rebuild a larger one, and the king has long wanted to see Summerhall restored.  He’s just struggled to find the coin for it.”

“I’m not surprised,” Jon said, sounding nonetheless confused, “but even if I offered to cover the rebuilding cost, why would he let us live there?”

“Because Rhaegar would do anything for his baby sister,” Daenerys said, grinning wickedly at her lover.

“You,” Jon choked, “you’re Princess Daenerys?”

Daenerys couldn’t help but laugh.  The look on his face was just priceless.