Chapter 76
The cold inside the Corpse City made Hogwarts winters feel like a picnic in May. Harry led Melisandre and Kinvara through the gatehouse and into the fortress's outer court. Nothing in King's Landing or Oldtown could have prepared them for Stygai's stink. The smell of stagnant, mineral-heavy water from some ancient reservoir mixed with the scent of rot. The mist rising from the flagstones condensed on their skin and froze in the dark.
Overhead, a ball of light drifted in the gloom. Harry kept it above his head with a wordless spell, giving them a sourceless glow to see by. The shadows didn't scatter, though. They clung to the walls and the empty windows. Sometimes they seemed to move.
Kinvara whispered, "There's magic in the fog. I can feel it caressing my skin."
Harry didn't answer. He felt the power around him, too. As a god, Harry learned to tune out the voices in his head a long time ago, but the Shadowlands had a voice of their own. It was so loud that even he couldn't ignore it. It sounded hungry.
Melisandre said, "We shouldn't linger." Harry tended to agree.
They crossed the court, their footsteps slapping against damp stone. Something thumped far away. A shriek, half-human, half-bird, cut through the air. It echoed for a long time before dying. Kinvara huddled closer to Harry, one hand on his armored forearm.
The main door to the inner keep was twice Harry's height. The blackened bronze was covered in magic that made his skin crawl. He motioned for the women to get behind him, then lifted his hand, and the door swung open with a rusty moan.
Inside, it was colder still. The first room was empty, except for the remnants of old tapestries and a pile of what looked like sticks in the middle. Harry edged around it, his sword in his free hand. Kinvara touched the sticks with the tip of her boot. They weren't sticks. They were child-sized bones with scraps of clothing fused to them by age.
Something scuttled in the shadows above. Harry flexed his hand and increased the light. The thing that dropped was fast and silent. It hit the stone at Melisandre's back, and only then did it snarl. She whirled and batted it aside with a fireburst, but the creature landed on all fours. It was shaped like a child, but stretched and wrong. Its limbs were long and bony. Its skin was gray, flaking, and tightly stretched over the skull. The eyes were rotted, sunken pits, but they followed Harry's movement.
He didn't give it time to leap again. His sword sliced down, and the blow was so sharp and heavy that it took the creature at the clavicle and drove through to the groin in a clean split. Both halves spasmed on the ground. The smell was worse than before. It was sickly sweet, like vomit roasting in the summer sun.
Kinvara gagged and stepped back. Melisandre kicked one half of the body. "What are they?"
"Most likely failed sacrifices," Harry said, "It seems they were put to use guarding this place." The two women stared at each other. They were no strangers to sacrifices after all.
Something howled, closer this time. There was a scraping noise, then another. Harry shone his light down the next corridor. There were more of the things, four or five perhaps, and hunched over a heap of bones and cloth. One raised its head and hissed at him, its needle teeth glinting. The others tensed to leap.
He flicked his wrist and threw a wave of fire down the hall. It roared through the air, setting their rags and skins alight. The creatures wailed and thrashed, slamming their heads against the stone to put out the flames. One ran straight at Harry, arms open. He drove his boot into its chest. The ribs folded inward like wet cardboard, and it sailed back into the burning heap.
Kinvara gasped, but Melisandre looked excited, as she always did when Harry broke out the fire magic. She said to Kinvara, gesturing at Harry. "He has the fire of R'hllor."
"Let's keep moving," Harry said.
They made for the central staircase. Shadows shifted along the walls. Sometimes Harry caught glimpses of faces of old men, pale-eyed girls, a lion with no fur, but nothing solid, only afterimages in his periphery. Kinvara clung to his arm, her usual poise gone. He'd never seen her this rattled.
"Steady your nerves," he told her. "It'll likely get worse from here."
"You say that as if I could," she answered in a shaky, high-pitched voice.
The stairs were choked with more bones and bits of old tapestry. Their boots crunched and left tracks in the frost. At the landing, a door hung askew. Inside, it looked like an old council chamber. There were rows of splintered chairs, and a long table warped by dampness and rot. Something greasy and black slowly dripped from the ceiling. Harry kept his sword ready. He heard scraping from under the table. He waited, prepared for anything.
A new creature lunged, claws first. He ducked, slashed upward, and took its arm off at the elbow. The wound didn't bleed, but the thing didn't stop. It climbed onto the table and came for his face. Melisandre roasted it with a wordless exhalation of fire, charring it to crisp before it landed. The smoking husk settled on the table, and the head rolled off and hit Kinvara's foot. She kicked it away and spat in disgust.
"There will be more," Melisandre said.
"Maybe a lot more," Harry agreed. "Does anyone need to rest?"
Kinvara shook her head. Her eyes were wide and nervous, but her hands had stopped shaking. They moved through the council room and into a hall lined with arched doorways. Each opening led to a small room. All were empty, but Harry felt eyes on him every step of the way. He opened one door and found another clutch of the child-sized creatures. They didn't wake, but they looked fresher.
"Are they waiting for something?" Kinvara asked.
Harry studied the bodies. "I don't know. Maybe for us." Harry took care of them with a wave of fire.
At the end of the hall, a spiral staircase led up. Harry gestured for the women to wait, then crept up the steps alone. The air thickened. Every hair on his body tried to stand up. He listened closely. He heard the sound of wet, phlegmy breathing.
At the top, he found a balcony that overlooked a larger room. It was perhaps a throne room or a temple. The ceiling was hung with old, battered tapestries, and the walls were covered with faces. They weren't painted or carved, but real human faces, dried and stitched together into a vast mural. The faces looked old, sad, or frozen in terror. Some blinked.
On the floor below, a congregation of the small monsters stood in neat rows. At the far end, a dais held an altar and a throne made of bones. A woman was sitting on it, her body huge and swollen, and her skin was the color of raw chicken. She wore a robe of human hair, and her face was hidden by a mask of gold.
Harry went back down. He told Melisandre and Kinvara what he saw.
"We should burn them all," Melisandre said, her expression fearful.
"They outnumber us fifty to one," Harry said. "We'll need a distraction."
"I can do it," Kinvara said. Her voice was steadier now.
Harry nodded. "When I say so, light them up. Melisandre, cover the stairs behind us."
"Alright … Be careful, My Lord," Melisandre said.
They went back up the spiral staircase together, silent as a grave. Harry gave the signal, and Kinvara whispered a word. The ancient tapestries ignited in a rush of flame, shedding sparks and molten thread onto the heads below. Instantly, the crowd of creatures screamed and writhed, half of them catching fire before they could react.
Melisandre stood guard at the top, shooting fire down the stairwell at anything that tried to climb. Harry vaulted the rail and landed in the midst of the chaos. His sword met resistance with every stroke. Limbs flew off, and necks opened up. The child-things bled black, viscous stuff that hissed on the stone. He fought his way to the altar, cutting a bloody line through the mob.
The woman on the throne didn't move. She watched him, one hand resting on a skull-topped staff. When Harry reached her, he raised his sword. The woman hissed a word, and Harry's head rang with the force of it. He staggered while she rose, towering over him, her mask gleaming.
Harry chuckled and shook his head. "You're not the first to try that, love."
He slashed at her legs. She dodged insanely fast, despite her size. He pressed the attack, chopping, then swinging low. She caught his blade in one fat hand and squeezed. The edge bit into her palm, but she didn't flinch. Instead, she yanked him close and tried to bite his face off.
He headbutted her in the mask. The gold bent inward, and she shrieked, letting go. He broke free and planted the sword in her chest, up to the hilt. She staggered, then began to melt. First, her face sizzled, then her entire body followed, collapsing in a heap of boiling meat. The small creatures shrieked and convulsed. Some ran while the women rained fireballs down on them. Harry walked through the crowd of convulsing creatures, plunging his blade into their chests and heads. When it was done, Harry wiped his sword and turned to see Kinvara and Melisandre still at the rail, watching.
"Is it done?" Kinvara called.
"It is," Harry said. "For now."
The rest of the fortress was quiet for the time being. There were no more monsters and no more voices. There was just the sound of the three of them breathing in the aftermath of their destruction.
The next chamber was a banquet hall, as big as any throne room in Westeros. The long tables sagged under piles of rotted meat and velvet-draped bones. Empty chairs stretched to the far wall. Most were broken or splintered.
Kinvara wrinkled her nose. "Why do these places always stink?"
Harry chuckled. "Because something's always dead inside."
Melisandre was already gliding between tables. "We must cross to the next hall. Quickly."
They moved together, Harry at the lead. At the midpoint, Melisandre froze. "Listen," she whispered. Harry listened. For a moment, there was only the whistle of wind and the drip of water. Then there was a patter. It was soft at first, like rain on a wooden shingle. It grew louder and closer. Harry's light floated up to the rafters.
Hundreds of pale hands clung to the beams.
He barely had time to shout before the ceiling opened and the monsters rained down, one for every chair at the table. They hit the floor in a shattering wave, then leaped and scrambled for living flesh.
Melisandre vanished under a dogpile of arms and gnashing teeth. Kinvara shrieked as a pair of them clawed her from behind. Harry lost sight of the women in a heartbeat.
He felt the panic rise, and he let it. He used it to motivate himself. He slashed his sword in a wide arc, carving a path through four, five, then six of the little flesh eaters. Black blood sprayed into the air. Another jumped at his neck. He grabbed it by the skull and hurled it into a table, splitting both.
He flung out his hand, and the air filled with a wall of fire. The front rank of monsters roasted instantly, but more spilled over the burning bodies, eyes fixed on him, in a wave of gray, twitching skin. Harry dropped to one knee, ducked a flailing hand, and gutted the monster trying to chew his ear off. He rolled over the table, cut down two more, and kicked a third in the chest. It shrieked and bit his boot, its teeth snapping in frantic hunger.
He scanned for Melisandre and Kinvara. Kinvara's head surfaced near the back, a white hand yanking her hair. Melisandre was on the floor, pinned under a dozen creatures. She fought them with bare hands, her fingers digging into their skulls. Where she touched them, they caught fire.
Harry carved a line through the horde, firing wordless blasts of flame ahead of him. He felt the skin on his face crackle from the heat, but he pressed on. He stomped on one of their heads, the bones crunching and the brain spraying the floor. He yanked Melisandre free by the wrist.
"You took your time," she said, breathing heavily. She didn't seem to be in a very good mood.
"Hold that thought." Harry spun, used her as a pivot, and hurled a ball of fire at the ceiling. The rafters exploded. Burning bodies and splintered wood crashed onto the tables.
Kinvara screamed again. Harry spun, saw her being dragged toward a side door. Two creatures had her by the ankles, a third by the throat. She clawed at the stones, kicking, cursing in High Valyrian.
Harry pointed at her, and a pulse of magic snapped the creatures' bones and flung them against the far wall. Kinvara rolled over, coughed loudly, and shakily stood up. She then gathered herself, screamed angrily, and began throwing fireballs at anything that moved. He finished the last of them in a blur of hacking, burning, and crushing until only his own ragged breath remained. The hall was carpeted in ruined corpses and stinking, oily smoke.
He sheathed his sword. "Come over here and let me examine you," he said to the two women. They quickly joined him, and Harry looked them over. "Looks like my magical protections worked. I don't see a single scratch."
Kinvara looked like her legs were about to give out. Melisandre shook her aching wrist. "They will not trouble us again."
Harry looked at the carnage, then at the two Red Women. Both were breathing heavily, their faces smeared with black blood and soot. He felt his own heart hammering and couldn't stop a laugh from escaping.
They moved to the far end of the hall. Two staircases met them there, one leading up into the darkness, the other plunging down into the cold. Melisandre paused. "Do we climb, or descend?"
Harry closed his eyes and reached out with his senses. Below them, the power beat like a war drum. It was thick, throbbing, and as old as Stygai itself. Above, there was nothing but more of those little creatures.
He pointed down. "That's where we want to go."
"Lovely," Kinvara said as her breathing slightly calmed. He led them down, deeper into Stygai's heart.
They descended the steps, each flight colder than the last. Frost formed on the rails and the arches above. Harry led the way, his ball of light bobbing ahead like a searchlight, but the shadows never lost their grip on the walls. Every so often, a whisper or a distant sob drifted through the black, but never the same voice twice.
The rooms below were smaller, tighter, and crowded with the remains of things not meant to live. Every door they opened, another malformed thing lurched out. Sometimes it was a shambling skeleton, sometimes it was a beast with too many mouths, and other times it was a human with no face at all. Harry killed them without pausing. He moved on, his sword dripping black blood and his breath turning to mist.
Melisandre and Kinvara followed, their arms wrapped tightly around their curvy bodies. Even so, they shivered more with each landing. At first, they kept up, but after the fourth slaughter, Kinvara lagged behind, clutching her arms.
Melisandre's lips had gone blue. "I can't feel my feet."
Harry stopped at the next threshold. He turned, took in their hunched figures. They were proud women, sorceresses both, but even the Lord of Light's fire wasn't enough against the cold here. He sheathed his sword, strode back, and pressed his palms to their shoulders.
"This will sting," he warned, and pushed warmth into their bodies. It burned, and both women gasped, then sighed. Their cheeks flushed, and color returned to their lips. They straightened.
"That's much better. Thank you, My Lord," Kinvara said, her breath fogging. Harry then used his magic to envelope them in warmth. They shivered from the strange sensation.
They pressed on, deeper and deeper. More monsters waited for them. They were bigger now, and less human. Sometimes they were just a boiling mass of flesh that couldn't walk but could still scream. Harry butchered them, and the women incinerated the rest.
After what felt like hours, the stairs ended at a gate. It was a wall of fused bone and black iron, covered in carvings that made the skin on Harry's arms writhe. At its center was a face that was part wolf and part man. Its jaw hung open with fangs as long as Harry's hand.
Kinvara ran a finger over the carvings. "Do you know what these are?"
Harry shrugged. "I've never seen them."
"Old gods," Melisandre whispered, "From long before the Dawn of Days. They have no names."
He didn't see the need to argue. He pointed his finger at the gate and tried to open it with magic. Nothing happened. He tried again, this time with a burst of raw force. The gate groaned but didn't budge. Harry scowled. "Right, then."
He flexed his hand, summoned black fire, and pushed it straight into the gate. The metal and bone sizzled, ran in rivulets, and the entire wall shuddered and cracked. He punched it again, this time with everything he had. The shockwave knocked the women back a step. The gate exploded inward, shards of bone skittering across the floor.
They stepped through, and on the other side, the only sounds were their footsteps and the tiny cracks of frost snapping in the air. Harry led them down the hall, each pace more tense than the last. Something watched and waited. He could feel it, just out of sight.
At the end of the hall was a set of double doors, twelve feet high, and sculpted from wood so black it reflected nothing. The doors were carved with scenes of mutilation and birth. Creatures split apart, men and beasts merged, and women birthed horrifying monsters. Every panel seemed to move ever so slightly, as if the wood was breathing. Melisandre reached for Harry's arm. "This is the place. I can feel the power inside."
He nodded, flexed his grip on his sword, and slammed the doors open with a wave of his hand. Darkness poured out. It wasn't just the absence of light, but something heavier. It was like a weight on the mind. It crawled into their ears and mouths. Harry tried to lift his ball of light, but the darkness swallowed it whole.
Kinvara and Melisandre clung to him. "I can't see," Melisandre said.
"Hold on." Harry probed the blackness, searching for any sense of magic. The cold was a living thing here, as thick as honey. He reached deeper, found a current of power, and tapped it with his magic. At once, a ring of blue fire burst to life along the far wall. Hundreds of torches ignited one by one, casting a wild, dancing glow over the room.
The space was enormous, like a cathedral buried in the guts of the fortress. At its center was a plinth of greasy black stone, twice the size of a man. Perched atop it was a statue of three beautiful women, as perfect as marble, and naked except for sheer, clinging gowns that left nothing to the imagination. Each wore the distinctive Qartheen cut with one breast bare. Their faces were haughty and beautiful, but their stone eyes gleamed with life.
Melisandre and Kinvara stared in awe. Even Harry felt the hairs on his arms stand up. "Who are these women?" Kinvara asked, but Harry had no answers.
Sudden laughter erupted from the far side of the room. It was high-pitched and mocking, in three harmonized voices. Harry snapped around, sword at the ready.
Three shapes waddled from the shadow behind the statue. They were huge, bloated, and barely human. Their skin was a quilt of scars and burns. Their faces were twisted in obscene caricatures of the statue's beauty, each mouth crowded with black, rotted teeth. Boils and weeping sores covered their bodies. They wore Qartheen gowns, but these were filthy, falling apart, and stained with old blood.
The center one cackled. "You like our handiwork, little sorcerer?"
Kinvara retched and covered her nose. Melisandre braced herself, flames licking from her fingers. Harry stared at the three women. "You must be the welcoming committee."
The left crone lifted a claw and pointed at Harry. "We smell fire on you. Old fire. Fire that does not belong."
"Who are you?" Harry asked without a hint of fear.
The right crone licked her crusty lips, her tongue black and forked. "We were noble, once. We were brides-to-be, promised to the king of Stygai."
"And look how you turned out," Harry said, as they circled his group.
He was about to take a step forward when the crones shuffled to block his path. "He betrayed us," the center one said. "He made a pact with the shadows. Kept our dowries, our eggs, and left us in the dark."
"Eggs?" Melisandre echoed.
"Dragon eggs," the right crone purred, staring at Kinvara. "We could have ruled the world. Instead, we rot here, waiting for the next fool to bring us new gifts."
Harry grinned cheekily. "Sorry, love, I left mine at home."
All three crones hissed and swelled with anger. Their claws cracked, and their eyes bulged with hatred. "You have fire inside you. We want it. We'll drink it from your bones."
Melisandre said, "We do not fear you."
The center crone leered at her. "We see the future. We see you burning, and the girl beside you. The man … he will last longer. He will scream for centuries."
Harry let them talk. He used their bluster to memorize the way they moved. He noted the thin line of stone at the base of the statue, the oily sheen on the plinth, and the way the crones avoided stepping in the blue fire's circle.
He smiled. "The only thing you bitches can see is each other's ugly faces. Shall we get started?"
The three crones shrieked as one and charged.
The crones moved faster than anything so huge should have. They didn't run, they slid with their bellies scraping the flagstones. All three split to encircle Harry, Melisandre, and Kinvara. They swiped with claws, leaving grooves in the stone.
Harry dodged left, sword up. Melisandre conjured a whip of fire and lashed the center crone across the chest. It howled and recoiled, but the flames didn't stick. Kinvara went for the rightmost, hurling fireballs, but the crone batted them aside with a laugh.
"We ate better men than you," the crone said. "We chewed their hearts and spat out the bones."
Harry jabbed at her with his sword. She parried with her claws and tried to gut him, but he rolled under her and slashed the back of her knee. Black, tar-like blood spilled down her calf.
The center crone lunged at Melisandre. She raised her arm to throw a fireball, but the crone grabbed her by the waist and squeezed, lifting her off her feet. Melisandre screamed. Kinvara rushed in and raked the crone's face with a lash of fire, which left a red, burning furrow
.
The crone dropped Melisandre, stunned, then backhanded Kinvara so hard she hit the wall and slid down, wheezing. The leftmost crone came after Harry, mouth wide and drooling. He feinted, let her overcommit, and stabbed his sword straight into her chest.
She shrieked, then just as quickly yanked the blade out and tossed it aside. Harry dove after the sword, rolled, and came up with it in his hand.
"Come on, you hag," he spat.
All three converged and charged. Then Melisandre and Kinvara, side by side, let loose with their fire at the same instant. A column of flame caught the left crone right in the face. She staggered, clawing at the air, but her flesh did not burn. The center crone laughed, circled, and began to chant in a language that made the room colder.
"Don't let her finish that!" Harry barked. He spun, sword in one hand, and cut a burning arc through the air. The left crone dodged at the last second and only lost a clump of dirty, greasy hair.
Melisandre hurled a glob of flame at the center crone, but it missed and struck the statue's outstretched hand. The stone woman's hand glowed, just for a moment. The center crone screamed and clutched her own hand, which blistered and cracked. Harry's mind clicked. They were linked to the statue.
The crones were almost on top of him. Harry pointed his hand at them, and a fist of invisible force hurled them back against the far wall. They slammed into it hard and crumpled to the ground.
Harry ran to the statue and held up his flaming sword. He pierced the statue's heart and poured all the fire he could muster into it. The greasy stone glowed, then cracked. The crones wailed, clutching their chests.
"More!" Melisandre shouted.
She and Kinvara threw their fire at the statue's faces, burning away the perfect features. With each blast, the crones lost mass, their skin peeling off in ribbons, and their voices rising in desperation. Harry pumped as much magic as he could into his sword, and the statue split along a hundred cracks, then exploded outward, shards flying across the room. The crones gave final, rattling screams.
Instantly, the darkness lifted. Torches snapped to normal yellow flame. The weight in the air vanished. Even the cold lessened. Harry let his sword disappear and stood panting, his hair dripping sweat despite the cold. Melisandre and Kinvara watched the statue's ruined stump, trembling. Harry wiped his forehead, then grinned at the women. "I told you there was nothing to worry about."
Melisandre huffed, but her eyes gleamed. Kinvara just laughed, a wild, giddy sound. "Thank R'hllor it's over."
The Dread Lord of Essos
Above, Stygai began to change. Shadows lifted off the walls like morning fog. In the court and the towers, the creatures shrank from the sun, then lay still, cold and dead. From Stygai all the way to Asshai, the veil of darkness thinned, and the world breathed a little easier.
Harry led Melisandre and Kinvara straight for the patch of wet stone where the crones had fallen. He expected to find rotted corpses or a smear, but what lay there made him pause.
Three women were on the floor, breathing and beautiful. There were no boils and no razor-sharp claws. They were completely naked with skin as pale as milk. Each with a mane of black, gold, or red hair spread around their heads. They were unconscious, but clearly alive. Melisandre knelt and brushed the hair from one woman's face. "They look like the statues."
"They were cursed," Kinvara said. "Like all pretty things in this city."
He pointed his finger at them and hit them with his magic. The three women fell deeper into sleep, their breathing slow and regular.
"Why not kill them?" Melisandre asked.
"If they can be rehabilitated, they might have useful information. I'll keep them secluded until I know they're not a danger to anyone." He looked at the two Red Priestesses. They were worn out and needed a long break.
On the far wall, behind the broken statue, a door shimmered. There was no handle or lock, just a seam and a faint design of three dragon heads. Harry tried the usual spells, but nothing so much as twitched.
"Stand back," he said. He drew his sword and tried to pry the door open with brute force. The blade skidded off, sparks flying.
Melisandre stepped up and peered at the seam. "There's something here … an opening, but it's too small for a hand."
Kinvara leaned in, eyes lighting up. "It looks like a keyhole. Remember the key you found in Asshai? It had the same symbol on it."
Harry frowned. He hadn't thought about that thing in weeks. A group of drones appeared out of thin air and handed him the key. "Take the women to my castle. Keep them isolated until I arrive," he ordered. His drones nodded respectfully and went to gather the unconscious women.
He held up the key, eyed it, and then slotted it into the door. It fit perfectly. He turned it. The wall shuddered, then slid open with a hiss. Inside was a massive vault, glittering with gold and gemstones. There were piles of coins, rings, swords, and cups. In the far corner, there were three eggs, each the size of Harry's head. They were red, blue, and green. Kinvara whistled. "Do you think they're real?"
"There's only one way to find out," Harry said, striding in.
He passed piles of treasure, picking up trinkets as he went. One was a goblet with obsidian snakes, and another was a necklace of rubies as big as cherries. The air was sweet with ancient perfume and the iron tang of wealth. When he reached the eggs, he paused before touching them. They looked old … almost petrified. A pulse of heat ran through his palm when he touched them.
Melisandre pressed close. "They could change everything if you could hatch them. Nothing will be able to stop you," she said with lust in her eyes. Kinvara joined them and played with the hair on the back of his neck. Nothing turned these women on more than power.
He gathered the eggs and cradled them to his chest. Harry then turned to the women. "Let's get out of here. My drones will collect all of this. I've had enough darkness for one lifetime."
"May I suggest we retire early? There's a nice warm bed back in the tent, and I could use a rest," Melisandre said, looking at him with lustful eyes. Her fingers were tracing seductive circles on the back of his hand. Harry knew the last thing she wanted right now was to rest. Kinvara seemed to agree with her idea. Harry smiled at the two women.
"That sounds wonderful," he said before all three disappeared. In the morning, they would set off for home, where he could start planning his next big adventure.
Chapter 77
They appeared on a windswept bridge over the River Ash. The three of them stood alone, with the two women huddled against the cold wind. Melisandre's red cloak twisted and loudly snapped in the howling wind. Kinvara held her hair down to keep it from hitting her eyes. Behind them, Asshai's black stone looked dull and muted, having lost the oily sheen. Its towers were covered in frost. Only a week ago, the city had been swallowed by shadow. Now, the sky was so clear you would have thought you were in Highgarden.
Kinvara pressed her hand to the stone balustrade. "It has never been this bright. I can see across the river. I don't think I like it," she said with honesty.
Harry's arms still clutched the trio of dragon eggs. The longer he held them, the hotter they became. He guessed that the eggs were feasting and growing stronger on the magic his body naturally produced. Melisandre shuffled beside him, shaking out her hair. "I think I prefer the darkness as well," she said. That wasn't shocking to Harry. She was a shadowbinder after all.
"I don't," Harry said. "Let's get out of here before someone sees these eggs."
Kinvara nodded, but her eyes kept flicking to the distant towers. "You do not understand. When you broke the city's curse, you changed everything. The people who depended on those shadows … they'll lose their minds."
"Perhaps it's for the best. They will adapt, or they will perish," Melisandre said as she stayed close to Harry.
They set off down the bridge, their boots clacking on the stone. On either side, the city stood silent. They passed a row of shrines, the stone priests now lying on the ground as if dead. The small flames of their candles were nearly invisible in daylight. Down in the alleys, lacquered-masked faces poked out of doorways and watched the trio pass. Their eyes were beady and untrusting, and they followed Harry's every move. He didn't blame them. A man carrying three dragon eggs made for a strange sight.
Kinvara shivered in her red silks. "We should hurry. Before someone recognizes us."
They walked in silence past a market square where necromancers had once traded bone charms. Now it was empty. The only thing moving was a mutated dog gnawing on a frozen arm. Harry wasn't sure who or what the arm belonged to, nor did he care. Harry ignored the stares of passing merchants. If they knew who he was, they kept it to themselves.
"Has the city always been this … odd?" Harry asked, nodding at a dead woman sprawled on a cart, her eyes open and mouth full of wilted black lilies. Her lacquered mask was resting on her chest.
Kinvara stopped and stared at the shriveled woman. "The city is built on fear and the unknown. If you take away, it falls apart."
"You'd think someone would have tried it before. This area is inhospitable, but it's rich in natural resources," Harry said.
"People have," Melisandre said. "But the heart of darkness has always been Stygai, and few would dare venture there. Those who dared, remained, and were never seen again."
Kinvara looked at Melisandre, clearly uncomfortable about them openly speaking about the city's secrets. Harry didn't seem to mind at all.
They reached the Black Gate. There, they found three cloaked men, curled up on the ground. Their bodies were frozen stiff, and their mask were frosted over. Harry ran his finger along one of the masks. The ice was so cold it burned.
"The cold must have settled quickly," Kinvara said.
"The curse was a powerful one. I'm not surprised to see some negative effects. The good news is that the weather will settle in time. I dare say it will be more pleasant than before," he told them.
They moved out of the city, crossed a field of broken monoliths, and followed the river down to the docks. The water was thick with icy fog, but even the fog seemed less sinister now. Harry could see his ship bobbing at anchor in the bay. The massive, hulking beast looked out of place among the much smaller ships and boats, and Harry couldn't help but smirk.
Kinvara walked ahead, her boot heels clicking loudly on the cobblestone. "If we hurry, we can be gone before sunset." It seemed that Kinvara wasn't eager to stick around. "But first, we must visit the temple. I must set things in order before we leave."
Melisandre followed close behind. She kept glancing at the eggs. Harry caught her gaze and smiled. There was no doubt that Melisandre longed to be a dragon rider.
The trio visited the Red Temple, where Kinvara gave her orders. She then packed her things, and Harry had his drones deposit them on the ship. With that done, they doubled back and made their way to the docks. They reached the gangplank, and Harry motioned the women aboard. Kinvara turned at the top, her face serious for once. "Thank you for not dying down there."
"Thank you for not running away," Harry said with a smile, and he ran his hands over her curves.
She leaned close and whispered, "Some in the city will come after you now. If you ever return to Asshai, you'll need more than fire to save you."
He smiled. Harry wasn't worried about a few shadowbinders. "I'll bring a dragon, and we can see how brave they are."
Kinvara rolled her eyes but stepped aside so Melisandre could pass. Melisandre took Harry's hand and squeezed it. Her skin was still cold, but her smile was the warmest thing in the city. They boarded the ship together. Behind them, the sky over Asshai was still cloudless, and the city's towers stood black against the pale blue.
The Dread Lord of Essos
An icy storm pounded the ship all night. Wind screamed through the rigging, shaking loose ropes and slamming rain against the hull. Inside Harry's luxurious cabin, the storm was barely a shudder in the floorboards or the occasional sway of the chandelier. Outside the cabin was cold and dreary, but inside, it was all warmth, comfort, and the hard smack of flesh on flesh.
Melisandre straddled Harry's lap. Her knees were spread wide, her back was arched, and her thick, red locks cascaded down her bare back. Her breasts bounced in perfect rhythm with her jerking hips. Her large tits stood proudly atop her chest, and her nipples were as hard as he had ever seen them. She kept her hands locked behind her head, and her eyes fluttered as she rolled her hips and worked his magnificent cock.
Kinvara knelt between Harry's legs, her mouth level with his balls. She cupped his sack with both hands, kneading it like dough, then slid her thumbs along the shaft until they met Melisandre's soaked folds. Melisandre shuddered above. She didn't stop there. Kinvara pressed upward, rubbing her asshole as Melisandre slammed her hips down, over and over. Each time she did, a sprinkle of her pussy juice hit Kinvara in the face. The squelching of her pussy grew louder as Melisandre grew wetter.
The bed creaked, and so did the floorboards. The whole cabin smelled like wet pussy, and Kinvara was certainly contributing to that. She could feel drops of arousal dripping down her inner thighs as she leaned in and planted a sloppy, wet kiss on his bloated, cum-filled sack. Harry leaned back on his elbows, watching Melisandre fuck herself raw while Kinvara massaged his balls with loving tenderness. He didn't have to do anything. These two had turned his cock into a communal property.
Kinvara's hands left his balls and gripped Melisandre's hips. She dug her fingers into the pale, smooth flesh, then slid them up Melisandre's sides, making Melisandre shiver and slow her rhythm.
Kinvara leaned in, her breath hot on Melisandre's back. "You're going to wring his cock dry before I get a turn."
"He's got more than enough for the both of us," Melisandre chuckled, her voice ragged and needy. She kept bouncing on his cock, not missing a beat.
Kinvara smirked, then wrapped both hands around Melisandre's tits. She squeezed them together and rolled her nipples with her thumbs. Melisandre's back arched farther, and her moans grew higher in pitch. Harry's vision blurred at the edges as Melisandre tightened her muscles and tightly squeezed his cock while rolling her hips in a circular motion.
"Your tits are perfect," Kinvara whispered. "They're so soft. I could play with them all night." She bounced Melisandre's breasts up and down, putting on a show for Harry.
"Please do," Melisandre gasped as her eyes rolled into the back of her skull.
Kinvara kissed her bare shoulder and then slowly dragged her tongue over her soft skin. She pinched her nipples hard enough to make Melisandre gasp, then rolled them between her thumbs and fingers. She nipped Melisandre's shoulder playfully and squeezed her breasts. Melisandre braced herself against Harry's chest and started grinding, trying to push herself over the edge.
Harry grabbed Melisandre's ass with both hands and spread her cheeks. The insides of her cheeks were hot and slick, and her pussy was so wet it sounded like a sloppy kiss every time she bottomed out. He could feel her thighs trembling and her whole body shaking with every thrust of his cock. Kinvara licked the side of her neck and tugged on her nipples. "You sound close," she said breathily.
Melisandre only grunted and started pounding her hips faster, and her pussy clenched so hard that Harry was forced to thrust his hips upward. Kinvara's hand slid between Melisandre's legs and found her clit. She rubbed it in tight circles and flicked her finger over it. Melisandre shrieked and came, and her whole body tensed. Her eyes squeezed shut, and her mouth opened in a silent scream. Her pussy milked Harry's cock, tugging the shaft as it spasmed around him.
Kinvara didn't let up. She kept rubbing her clit and pinching Melisandre's nipples until she collapsed forward, her hair draped over Harry's face as she trembled. Melisandre gasped for air and clung to Harry's chest. She finally let out a satisfied laugh. "By the gods, that felt good."
Kinvara smiled and peeled Melisandre off Harry's cock. She licked and sucked Melisandre's pussy juice and cream off his shaft, then licked her lips. She then crawled up and straddled Harry, facing away from him. Her ass was high and proud, and her thighs were damp and trembling. She looked over her shoulder, waiting impatiently.
Melisandre reached between Harry's legs and gripped his cock. She smeared the head up and down Kinvara's weeping slit, then pressed it against Kinvara's asshole, just teasing the entrance. Kinvara wiggled her ass and said, "Yes! Right there."
Harry lined himself up, and Melisandre guided the tip against Kinvara's tightest hole. She braced herself with her hands on Harry's knees. Kinvara looked back at them both with needy eyes. "Put it in," she demanded.
Melisandre held Harry's cock in place while Kinvara started to sink down slowly, stretching herself around the thick head. Harry moaned, and his hands tightly gripped Kinvara's hips. The dry heat of her ass clamped around him was incredible and tighter than anything he'd ever felt.
"Gods," Kinvara hissed, "It feels like it's about to hit the back of my teeth."
Melisandre laughed and leaned in, kissing the small of Kinvara's back. "Be careful, or you'll split yourself in two." Kinvara shuddered and forced herself lower, her ass swallowing Harry's cock inch by inch.
A wave of thunder rocked the cabin as Melisandre slid down beside Harry, smirking at the sight of Kinvara's ass impaled on him. "She's stretched so wide," Melisandre said in amazement.
Kinvara groaned loudly and then started riding, her ass grinding down on him. Harry could only watch with his hands on her hips as Kinvara fucked herself on his cock. Melisandre kissed Harry's stomach and then reached down and stroked herself. Her silky folds were drenched, and her clit was swollen with arousal.
Melisandre leaned in and kissed Harry. Her mouth immediately opened, letting his tongue in. She moaned into his mouth before breaking the kiss. She pressed her tits to his face, and Harry sucked on her rock-hard nipples. Kinvara kept grinding, every thrust of her hips sending a jolt of pleasure up Harry's spine. Kinvara's voice had gone shaky, and her breathing became ragged. "I'm going to cum. Gods, I'm gonna …" she cried out, then squealed loudly.
She did as she said, clenching around him. Her whole body spasmed out of control as she squirted onto his thighs. Harry went right after her, cumming so hard his vision whited out. Kinvara collapsed forward, her ass still twitching. Harry slid out of her, and a line of cum dripped from her ruined asshole. Kinvara rolled over, panting. She kissed Melisandre, then Harry. "I'm so glad R'hllor brought me to you," she whispered and mewled as she scooted up to Harry's free side.
Harry laughed, wiped sweat from his brow, and pulled both women close. It was a long ride home, but Harry planned to take advantage of every second.
The Dread Lord of Essos
The storm followed them most of the way home, and by the time the ship coasted into Seven Swords harbor, the weather had collapsed into a cold drizzle and a lazy wind that rippled the banners. The city was just as he had left it. New, taller buildings jutted out above the massive city walls, but none were taller than his beloved castle. His private pier had a few ships docked to it, but they were dwarfed by Harry's own vessel. It drew looks even from everyone in the harbor.
The ship docked with a hard thunk and a scramble of ropes. Harry stood on the main deck, arms folded, while Melisandre and Kinvara huddled near the gangway. Both wore their red cloaks tightly, shivering slightly in the wind. Kinvara kept her eyes fixed on the city's skyline. She was very impressed by what she saw. It was the polar opposite of Asshai. Melisandre smiled warmly, happy to be back in the lap of comfort.
Harry grinned and shouldered his bag. The three dragon eggs were wrapped in silk and safely stowed in his bag. He kept them close, letting them feed on his magic. He led the way down the gangplank.
A small crowd had formed at the pier's end. Most of them were city guards in gleaming armor with a black lion's head painted across the front. There were also a few dock workers, three nervous priests from the local Red Temple, and a single golden-haired girl wearing a gown two sizes too tight.
The girl spotted Harry and broke into a run. She moved fast, her boots clacking on the planks. Myrcella barreled into him before he had time to brace, nearly bowling him over. She wrapped her arms around his waist, pressed her body against him, and kissed him along the jaw when he picked her up.
"Myrcella," Harry greeted her, laughing. He dropped the bag, hugged her tight, and let her kiss his cheek, his neck, and his lips. She smelled like lavender, and Harry nuzzled her neck with his nose, which made her giggle. Her hands found his hair, and she tangled her fingers in it. She refused to let go.
Behind her, Daenerys waited with her arms crossed. She tapped one foot on the pier, feigning impatience. However, her eyes were bright and hungry, and her mouth was set in a smirk. When Myrcella finally stepped aside, Daenerys approached and looked up at him.
"You took your time getting back," Daenerys pouted with a cute scowl.
Harry swept her up by the waist, lifted her off her feet, and spun her once around. She squealed, laughed, and kicked at his shins. He kissed her slowly, tasting her soft lips and the sweetness of her tongue. He set her down, and Daenerys clung to him, not wanting to let go.
Melisandre and Kinvara reached the pier behind him. The priests bowed in unison, then immediately retreated when Melisandre shot them a look. She didn't like sharing. Kinvara ignored them, choosing instead to survey her new surroundings. Harry caught her eye and winked. She looked away, but not before she let slip a tiny smile.
The dock guards bowed in respect, then scattered. Harry took Myrcella and Daenerys and started walking them up the pier. Myrcella latched onto his right arm. Daenerys did the same on his left, and both pressed their bodies close enough that he could feel their heartbeats through the silk of their dresses.
"What was it like?" Myrcella asked as she clung to him.
"Dark and cold," Harry said. "I've missed you girls." Myrcella squealed happily and squeezed his arm tighter.
"You smell like smoke," Daenerys said. That wasn't surprising considering he had the fireplace going in his cabin. She then leaned in and sniffed him deeper. "And cunt," she added. "What have you been doing with those priestesses?"
Harry smirked at her. "I had to find some way to pass the time."
Dany snorted and smacked his arm. They reached the end of the pier and stepped into the back garden of the castle, which loomed above everything. Harry crossed the wards, and the cold air was replaced with comfortable warmth. The path was wide and lined with beautiful flowers and fruiting trees. Pedestrians parted for Harry and his group, bowing as they passed. Melisandre fell into step behind them, and Kinvara lagged at the rear, scanning the crowd with a cautious eye. She was used to living in constant danger, and it would take some time to get used to anything different.
Harry turned and called back to Melisandre. "Melisandre, would you please find a room for Kinvara? I'm sure she'll want a hot bath and a strong drink before the festivities begin."
Melisandre inclined her head. "Of course, my lord. Come, Kinvara. You will like the baths here. The water is hot enough to scald a dragon." Kinvara hesitated, then shrugged and followed Melisandre up a side path.
Harry turned his attention back to the two women at his arms. Myrcella was biting her lower lip, as if holding back something important. Daenerys was less subtle. She kept glancing at the bulge in Harry's trousers.
Harry squeezed them both. "I have to take care of some business first. Wait for me in Myrcella's room, alright? I'll come up soon."
Myrcella pouted. "But we missed you so much."
Daenerys rolled her eyes, but she didn't let go. "We'll wait, but only if you hurry."
He promised he would. He watched them go as Myrcella skipped ahead. Daenerys trailed her with a sly look over her shoulder. He felt their eyes on him even after they rounded the bend. He lingered by the path, feeling the warm wind on his face. He let himself relax for a moment before noticing her.
Cersei stood in the shadow of a statue. She was leaning with one hip cocked and her arms folded beneath her heavy breasts. She was dressed in a gown the color of aged wine, with gold embroidery curling down the front. The dress hugged her hips and proudly displayed her cleavage. Her hair was braided up and away from her face, accentuating the sharp lines of her jaw. Her green eyes were gleaming. She walked toward him in measured steps, her wide hips swinging, and her gaze never leaving his face. She stopped just shy of arm's reach, close enough that he could smell her perfume.
Cersei pressed her body against his, ran a fingernail along his jaw, and kissed him on the lips. It was a slow kiss that was almost sweet, but there was an edge to it. She nipped his lower lip before pulling away.
Harry smiled amusedly. "What do you want, Cersei?"
She smirked, her sweet lips curving in a devious way. "Maybe I only wanted to greet my lord."
Harry raised an eyebrow. He wasn't buying it. "That's generous of you."
Cersei's hand found his cock through his trousers. She squeezed, not gently. "You've spent too much time with those foreign whores. I thought I'd remind you what a real woman feels like."
He bit back a laugh. "And what will that cost me?"
She pressed closer, until her breasts mashed against his chest and her mouth was at his ear. "Only your attention for the next few minutes … perhaps a few more than that." She dragged her tongue up his ear, nipped the lobe, then stepped back. "Now, come along," she said with a wicked smile, taking his hand and dragging him closer to the castle.
She pulled him behind a high hedgerow and unbuckled his trousers. She then dropped to her knees, yanked down his trousers, and began to show him why he should spend more time with her.
"It's good to be home," Harry groaned as he helped guide her bobbing head.
Chapter 78
Harry barely remembered crawling into bed that night. After arriving back home, he had spent hours entertaining Myrcella and Daenerys. It was all a blur of moans and naked, sweaty bodies. He'd lost track of time entirely, so it was a surprise when the next conscious moment was the soft click of his own bedroom door.
He rolled over, unsure whether it was morning or midnight, and blinked at the dark silhouette standing in the doorway. The castle was a maze of corridors and servants, but he'd paid well for privacy, and his bedchamber was supposed to be off-limits. The intruder obviously didn't care. She stepped in with a confidence that few women possessed. Her wide, inviting hips swayed tantalizingly, and her lips were curled in a sexy smirk.
Cersei always preferred making a dramatic entrance. Tonight, she wore a sheer burgundy gown cut scandalously low. The fabric clung to her body in all the right places, following the flared curve of her hips and the plump swell of her breasts. Her blonde hair was pinned up, revealing her angular jaw and the elegant slope of her neck. The only jewelry she wore was a single gold chain that dipped into her cleavage and disappeared between her breasts. As she strolled forward, her green eyes shone with hunger.
He propped himself up on one elbow, fighting the post-orgasmic haze that still clung to him. "You couldn't wait, could you?" he asked in a raspy, tired voice.
"I've been patient long enough," Cersei stated in an aroused purr. "You have no idea how long I've been waiting for you to finish your little voyage … and I saw the company you brought back. I thought I would remind you of what's waiting for you at home." She paused at the foot of his bed, planted her hands on her hips, and smirked. "I see you're already halfway there."
He followed her gaze down, realized his morning wood was tenting the blanket, and grinned lazily. "Is it the dress or what's underneath that's causing such a reaction?" she asked with an amused smirk.
"A little bit of both," Harry replied with a smirk of his own.
Cersei unfastened the thin gold chain, tossed it onto the bedside table, and slipped the gown from her shoulders. The fabric slithered down her body, catching briefly on her wide hips, before pooling at her feet. She stood there, baring everything in the dim light. Her skin was almost as pale as the cream-colored sheets, but her areolas were a deep, healthy pink. Her breasts were full and high, and her nipples were already hard and crinkled from the chill. Below, her stomach was flat and taut, and the shallow curve of her belly button descended to a smooth, bare mound. He loved how she always kept her body completely hairless. It made her look regal and lewd all at once.
Harry couldn't help but stare. "I've missed your body," he said, his voice practically a growl.
Cersei crawled onto the bed, her knees digging into the mattress. Her breasts hung beneath her, swinging gently as she moved up the length of his body. She climbed over his lap and straddled him with her thighs spread wide. She leaned down until her tits were dangling in his face. Cersei shook her chest until her hard nipples were brushing against his skin. Harry wasted no time. He cupped one breast and took her nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hard nub. Cersei arched her back and let out a pleased little hum.
Cersei immediately got to work. With one hand, she pushed down the blanket until his massive erection sprang free. Her hand was cool and soft against his burning shaft, and she guided it to her lips. "You're bigger than I remember," she whispered, her voice tinged with awe. "Did you make those foreign whores scream with pleasure?"
Harry grinned and lightly pinched her nipple. "I make every woman I'm with scream," Harry teased her.
She answered by swallowing his cock to the base. She wasn't shy or demure about it, either. Her mouth was hot and hungry, her tongue twirled with practiced skill, and her throat squeezed him as she bobbed up and down. She didn't waste time teasing him. Instead, she fucked her own face on him, gagging slightly as she took him deep. Cersei moaned around his shaft, and the sound vibrated through his throbbing shaft.
He grabbed both her tits and squeezed them together until her cleavage formed a perfect valley. Harry then pinched her nipples with his thumbs. Cersei's whole body shuddered, but she didn't break her rhythm. Her eyes stayed fixed on his, watching for every twitch of pleasure. Her tongue was a force of nature, tracing every vein and ridge while her hand squeezed the base and twisted just enough to make him squirm.
"Fucking hell, Cersei … You're a beast. If you're not careful, I'll cum right down your throat," Harry grunted while squeezing her perky tit.
She popped off his cock with a loud, wet gasp and wiped her lips with the back of her hand. "Please do. I want every drop in my mouth. You'll give it to me, won't you?" She smirked sexily before taking him back in. This time was slower and sloppier. Spit dripped down her chin and onto her tits, and she used her free hand to smear it over her nipples, pinching them as she worked him.
It was filthy, and the sight of it just about made Harry explode. He fought it, though, and held back as best he could. He dug his fingers into her hair to steady himself. Cersei seemed to sense the moment and picked up the pace. Her head bobbed faster, and her cheeks hollowed with the immense effort. He watched her breasts swing. He watched her tongue lap at his tip every time she rose for air, and he watched her beautiful eyes flutter shut as she devoured him.
Her lips sealed tight, and she sucked him hard. Harry felt himself tip over the edge. The orgasm tore through him, and he let out a deep, rough groan and came, filling her mouth with thick shots of cum. Cersei drank it all, milking him with her hand until he was completely spent. She then licked him clean before releasing his cock with a final, wet pop.
She moved his cock out of the way and placed a wet kiss on his balls. Harry moaned and caressed the back of her neck, playing with the soft, little hairs at the base of her skull. Cersei shuddered and kissed up and down the length of his shaft.
"Now that you're wide awake …," she said in a rough and smoky voice. "... I expect you to return the favor."
She flopped down beside him, spread her legs, and ran her fingers over her own slick folds. Her pussy glistened in the candlelight, and her clit was already swollen and poking out from between the lips. She ran a finger over it and shuddered.
Harry's answer was to kiss down her neck and over her tits, sucking her nipples and biting them until she gasped. His hand slid between her legs, and his fingers parted her folds and teased her entrance. She was already soaked, and her hot juices dripped down his fingers. He pushed two fingers inside her and curled them while his mouth worked her tits.
Cersei moaned and wrapped her thighs around his wrist, grinding herself against his hand. "Harder," she demanded, and he obliged, pumping her fast and rough. Her hips bucked, and her pussy clutched his fingers.
He slid further down, lined up his face with her pussy, and slowly dragged his tongue up her slit. Cersei grabbed a fistful of his hair and held his face against her scorching hot pussy, grinding herself against his mouth. Her hard clit slid back and forth along his lips, and he flicked her clit with his tongue and sucked it between his lips. Cersei's whole body tensed, and her moans echoed throughout the room.
She came quickly, and her pussy spasmed around his fingers. Her thighs clamped down on his head as she rode out the orgasm. Cersei's hips jerked before releasing him with a long, satisfied sigh. She shifted her hips back and pulled her clit from his lips. Harry slid his drenched fingers from her pussy and kissed her bald mound, making her mewl.
"I'm not done with you yet," she said, her voice trembling.
She shoved him flat on his back, climbed over him, and impaled herself on his cock. Her pussy let out a loud, perverted squelch as she sank down on him. Her silky walls fluttered and gripped his shaft, making Harry groan and thrust his hips upward. Harry ran his hands up her soft, smooth thighs and gripped her wide, fleshy hips. He possessively clutched her hips as she rode him in a slow, grinding motion, rolling her hips and squeezing his cock. Her tits bounced and jiggled with every thrust of her hips, and she grabbed them herself and pinched her own nipples while she fucked him.
Harry grabbed her hips and guided her up and down. He then sat up so he could suck on her tits as she bounced on his lap. His lips wrapped around one of her hard, little nubs, and he sucked hard enough to make her gasp. He wiggled his tongue around the crinkled tip of her nipple, and her pussy tightened in response. Cersei dug her nails into his back and fucked him with a desperation he wasn't prepared for.
She orgasmed again and shuddered hard. Her pussy tightened around him until he could barely stand it. He pulled her down, held her tight around the waist, and fucked her harder and faster, until he was about to cum again. Cersei's eyes rolled back, and she screamed as she hit her third orgasm, her whole body going taut. That was enough for him. He buried himself in her and exploded, filling her with hot spurts of thick cum.
Cersei collapsed on his chest, sucking in deep breaths. She let out a pleased laugh and rolled off him, curling up beside him and nuzzling her face into his shoulder. "You're not allowed to leave the city ever again," she said, her voice muffled by his skin.
He laughed and stroked her hair. "If that's what waits for me here, I might not."
Harry was still catching his breath when Cersei slithered down his body and licked the sweat from his chest, her eyes flashing with renewed purpose. She wasn't sated just yet, and her lips trailed over his spent cock. She licked him clean and moaned at the taste, and her eyes became ravenous as his cock inflated in her mouth.
She lay back on the bed and spread her legs wide, displaying her pussy to him. Her inner lips were flushed, swollen, and shiny with arousal, and her fingers played with the slick folds. She parted them to show the vivid pink inside. Her clit stood out stiff and proud as she looked at him.
"Come here and fucke me properly," she moaned as her finger ran circles around her hard clit.
Harry shifted over her and planted a kiss on each breast before settling between her thighs. Cersei mewled sexily and rubbed her nipples over his lips. Harry made sure to suck each one before moving on. He ran a finger over her slit and marveled at how wet she was. Harry pressed the tip of his cock against her entrance, and she reached down, guided him in, and squeezed him with her tight, silky walls. He pushed forward, and her pussy lips stretched around him, gripping him like a vice. She was incredibly tight, but the heat and wetness made it easy for him to slide all the way in with a slow, steady thrust.
Cersei moaned loudly and shamelessly, and he was sure the servants could hear them in the corridor. She hooked her ankles behind his back, locked him in place, and rocked her hips upward to meet his thrusts. Each time he pulled back, her cunt clung to him, refusing to let him go. The squelch of her pussy was loud in the quiet room, and every thrust sent a fresh wave of liquid down his shaft, drenching the sheets beneath her.
He set a frustratingly slow pace for her, savoring every flutter of her walls as she milked his cock. Cersei dug her nails into his ass and dragged him deeper with every thrust. She craned her neck up and kissed him. Cersei nipped his lip and then sucking his tongue into her mouth, moaning as she squirmed against him.
"Harder," she whispered against his lips. "I want to be sore tomorrow."
He picked up the pace and fucked her harder. The sound of their wet flesh slapping filled the room. Her breasts bounced with every thrust, and her hard nipples brushed his chest. Her face was contorted in pleasure. Her mouth was open, sucking in deep breaths. Her eyes were fluttering, and her pale cheeks were flushed pink. Out of nowhere, she violently orgasmed again, and she shuddered beneath him. Her pussy clamped down so hard he had to fight not to blow his load immediately.
"Keep going," she pleaded, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and burying her face in his neck. "Seed me."
Harry kept fucking her through her orgasm and into another, her body writhing under his. She nipped at his neck, left angry red marks on his back, and arched her hips to take every inch he could give. He could feel her hot breath washing over his skin, and he could hear her pleasured whimpers.
Harry moaned loudly and buried himself to the hilt. He gave her a few more shallow thrusts and emptied himself inside her while Cersei moaned and bit down on his shoulder. He stayed buried in her, pumping her full of cum, until she finally released his hips and went limp on the bed.
Her legs were still spread, and his cock slowly softened inside her. Cersei played with his hair with a satisfied smile on her lips. "So, am I better than your foreign whores?" she asked with a smirk.
He kissed her forehead. "Infinitely." That wasn't exactly true, but he told her what she wanted to hear.
Cersei purred and cuddled against his side. "Good, because I'm not sharing you with anyone else … Not tonight anyway."
Harry laughed and squeezed her ass. "As you wish." She closed her eyes with a happy sigh while his cum slowly seeped from her freshly fucked pussy.
The Dread Lord of Essos
Illyrio Mopatis sat in the luxurious meeting room of his manse, surrounded by the spoils earned and stolen over his lifetime. Three firepits burned on the marble floor, but the heat was swallowed up by the stones and the high, arched roof. He wore his thickest silks and still shivered. He watched the smoke climb and the black logs expel cinders every time the wood popped. He then returned his gaze to the far end of the room.
There, a bald figure approached with slow, mincing steps. Illyrio recognized Varys before the eunuch's first footfall landed. Varys wore layers of padded robes, each in a faded, nondescript color, as if he were trying to blend into the stone itself. Illyrio admired this. So many people tried to appear greater than they were. Varys tried to disappear, which only made the man more dangerous to deal with.
Varys bowed low. "My apologies for the lateness of the hour."
Illyrio waved his hand. "No matter … You are a friend. Now, come. I had food brought up fresh, but it is cold by now." He gestured to the long, low table before the fire. "Sit. You will freeze standing there."
Varys obeyed and slid into a padded bench across from Illyrio. The manse was quiet, save for the wind rattling the shutters and the slow dripping of condensation from the ceiling. Illyrio watched his guest, weighing every gesture and glance. He had spent thirty years perfecting this art.
"Wine?" Illyrio asked, lifting a crystal decanter. "It will warm you."
Varys nodded, his hands folded on his lap. Illyrio poured the deep red liquid into two cups. The cups were gold and studded with jewels. Each cost more than a peasant would make in his lifetime. He handed one to Varys, and they sipped in unison.
"You did not come for my pleasant company," Illyrio said. "What news do you bring?"
Varys looked at the flames. "The king has returned to Seven Swords."
Illyrio raised an eyebrow. "I thought he would stay gone. Did he not vanish in Asshai?"
"He did," Varys replied. "But Harold Hill is not so easily lost. He returned nearly a week ago. The city held a festival in his honor. He is …" Varys trailed off, searching for the right word. "... very popular."
Illyrio grimaced, and his chins rolled with the motion. "The others will not like that. Nor will Young Griff."
"That is precisely why I came," said Varys. "We are running out of time. Every day that Harold breathes, more in Westeros learn his name and fewer remember ours."
Illyrio sipped again, his gaze distant. "And what of the girl?"
"Daenerys?" Varys shrugged. "She remains at Harold's side. As does the Lannister girl. They have become inseparable. If rumors are true, they share his bed."
Illyrio smiled at that, his eyes squinting. "The boy has always been ambitious. Even in matters of the heart."
"Especially in matters of the heart," Varys corrected. "That is what troubles me."
Illyrio leaned forward, his hands steepled over his considerable belly. "Tell me."
Varys set his cup down. His hands were soft and well-kept, but his fingers trembled with nervous energy. "There are mercenary companies moving in the east. Many of them, in fact. I have gathered as many sellswords as I dare, but …" he paused, glancing up. "... without the girl, our plan will fail. Harold does not intend to let her go."
Illyrio stroked his beard. "Perhaps if we take the city, we take her as well."
Varys smiled thinly. "If you can take the city. Have you seen its walls? He has three. They are all very tall and bristling with artillery. Even the gates are as thick as a man's waist."
Illyrio grunted. "Perhaps a siege? Artillery does not stop hunger."
"Nor will a siege stop a dragon," Varys added.
There was a long silence. Illyrio drained his cup, signaled a servant for more, and waited until the man was gone before he spoke. "You believe he will send the beast after us?"
Varys gave a slight nod. "It is his habit, yes. The city is circled every night by the black brute. It sleeps in his garden, or atop the castle, or in the market square. The smallfolk call it Nightbane, though I believe Harold calls it Daemon."
Illyrio smirked. "That is a touch dramatic."
Varys tilted his head. "If you see it, you would agree. They say it is twice the size of the old Targaryen dragons … and far more clever."
Illyrio set his cup down with care. "I am working on a solution. My men in Lys have located something that may solve our problem, but I need time."
"We have none," Varys said. "Winter has begun in the north. The rivers will freeze in weeks. After that, our armies will be stuck where they are, and Harold will have months, if not years, to prepare."
Illyrio considered this. He plucked a fig from a plate, bit into it, and chewed. "Then we act soon."
Varys said, "If Young Griff is to be king, he must be seen as such. We cannot let this upstart continue spreading his influence. He will surely set his sights on Westeros. We must have the girl."
Illyrio wiped his hands on his robe. "I understand. I will accelerate the work. Tell me … if we succeed, do you think the lords will follow him?"
Varys's lips curved in a cold smile. "If we win, the lords will follow anything with a crown and a cock."
Illyrio barked a laugh. "That is why I have always liked you."
He reached for the decanter, poured again, and toasted. "To victory, then … and to the end of one dragon … and the rise of another."
Varys drank, but his eyes never left Illyrio's. "To the end of one dragon, and the rise of another," he repeated softly.
Illyrio set his cup aside and leaned forward. "There is another matter." Varys waited, and Illyrio continued, "The man called Clegane. He is working with the upstart. He killed the Company of the Cat's commander last week. Heads were sent in boxes to Lys and Tyrosh. It is … unsubtle."
Varys showed his palms. "Harold prefers to send messages rather than words. It is a lesson he learned from Tywin Lannister, I suppose."
Illyrio grunted. "We have our own dogs."
"They are not so loyal," Varys countered.
Illyrio's gaze sharpened. "You have doubts?"
"Not in the men. In the plan. If the girl is lost, we may not be able to proceed."
"Then do not lose her," Illyrio countered.
Varys gave a slow nod. "I will do what must be done."
The wind howled outside, rattling the shutters again. Illyrio gestured at the fire. "You should stay the night. There are rooms prepared. There is no need to risk the roads."
Varys rose, giving Illyrio a short, grateful bow. "Thank you. I will see to my work."
Illyrio watched the eunuch drift away. He thought of dragons, the bitter cold, and of the boy he had raised in secret so many years ago. He thought of ways to use Daenerys and perhaps the Lannister girl to his advantage. Unfortunately, they were out of reach … for now. The game was not over, but it would be soon. He poured himself a final cup, and this time he drank it alone.