Fiction Witch

Mike had been rather lost, even though he’d been up and down the Hawkin’s High hallways daily for months, he found his feet getting lost and his mind wandering constantly, unable to hold his focus on anything. But he eventually found his way to Miss Vine’s physics class, only five minutes late. Dustin and Lucas immediately turned their attention to him, and their faces dropped in a mix of shock and concern. Mike wandered in, looking shellshocked and wild-eyed. He silently walked to his seat and slumped down into the wooden chair between Dustin and Lucas, staring forward, remembering to breathe. Resting his elbows on the desk and his chin in his palm.

“… Is he… alive?” Lucas asked,

“He’s breathing,” Dustin nodded,

“Okay, but is his brain actually firing?”

“… Now that I don’t know,”

“Is this Lana related?”

“It’s gotta be right?”

“Yeah, I think so, maybe she broke up with him?”

“Noo, he’d be crying.”

“True, do you think they…uhh…”

“Did what?”

“I don’t know, I’m trying to think of things.”

“Do you think they got like… engaged or something?”

“No, even he’s not that stupid.” Lucas rolled his eyes, “Maybe they just had a nice lunch? Maybe they got ice cream and shared it or something?”

“Ice cream? In this cold?”

“They are that sickly sweet,”

“They are, but he was willing to risk frostbite for some boob at the corroded coffin concert.”

“… No… you- you don’t think they?” Dustin asked,

“… No… no, they…” Lucas tried to dismiss, but the more he looked at Mike’s lost and bewildered face, “Oh my god, they did something.”

“What do you think it was?”

“I haven’t the foggiest idea.”

“… Mike?” Dustin tried to coax a response,

“Mike? You good?” Lucas asked, giving Mike’s upper arm a small poke,

“Uuuuuummm…” Mike smiled blissfully,

“Did something happen with you and Lana?” Dustin asked,

“Mhmmmmmm…” Mike nodded, lying down on his desk,

“And… what exactly happened, Mike?” Lucas carefully asked,

“Uuuuuuuummmmmm huuuuuummmmmm… something… loverly.”

“Lovely?” Dustin chuckled, “So, what did you and Lana spend your lunch break doing?”

“Uuuuumm Fun…” Mike cooed,

“Do we get anything more than that?” Lucas asked,

“Uuummm, she was very lovely, very kind and caring… made me… feel very very happy.”

“Did she now?” Dustin laughed, “Let me guess, you got your hands on her?”

“A little bit…”

“… did she put her hands on you?”

“A little…”

“God damn it, Mike, cut the suspense, what happened with you and Lana?”

“Humm,” He laughed, “she blew me.”

Immediately, Dustin and Lucas’ jaws dropped open, and they were left in a stunned silence, unable to believe they had heard the words that just came out of his mouth.

“B-blew you?” Dustin choked,

“Mhm,” Mike smiled,

“Like- like when you say that you don’t mean like… she blew hot air on you to keep you warm, right?” Lucas asked,

“Nope… we went behind the bleachers. And she blew me.” he giggled all giddy and flushed with blush,

“Oh- my- god.” Dustin gasped, “She- she actually…”

“God damn, I never thought I’d be jealous of Mike,” Lucas chuckled,

“I am not surprised his brain is broken.”

“Yep… broken boy, and that… is honestly fair, I’d be pretty broken if Max blew me at 1 pm too.”

“Yeah, I’m written off all day if Suzie calls before dinner.” Dustin agreed,

“So… what do we do with him?”

“I guess just look after him till he gets his brain back, and he stops being so broken.”

“Fine, but if we see Lana, we are passing him off; she did this, she can handle it.” Lucas sighed,

Aegon was frustrated; he’d been forced to train all day in the yard with Ser Cristen, and his mother had ordered the castle servants not to bring him any more wine. He couldn’t even sneak out, since the castle was locked down for the storm that lay over them. The harsh wind whistling through the halls and rain attacked his windows. So he lay on his bed, knotted with the furs and covers as he tried to keep his mind straight.

A loud knock came from his door, which made him groan and pick his head up, “Fuck off!” He yelled,

“Prince Aegon!” The voice called, he knew that voice, it was Y/n, Rhaeynra’s daughter,

“Ughhh, go away, Y/n!”

But the door opened anyway, and she poked her head around the door, “I bring ale.”

He fully perked up but narrowed his eyes, “What kind of ale?”

“Honeymead from Oldtown,” she smiled, showing off the flagon,

“Hummm… leave the ale and go.”

“I also bring pie,” she smiled, showing off a steaming pie,

“What kind of pie?”

“Roasted stag and potato pie.”

“… You can stay,” he accepted begrudgingly, “Close the door.”

She smiled and closed the door as she came in, handing the ale to him and putting the pie beside him,

“Does your mother know you're here?” He asked, grabbing a fork and a goblet from his table,

“No, my prince.”

“Good, does my mother know you're here?” he asked, filling his goblet to the brim and taking a sip,

“No, my prince,” she giggled,

“Alright then, sit.”

She smiled and happily sat down on the bed with him,

“What do you want?” he asked as he began to eat,

She pressed a hand to her chest, “want? What makes you think I want something?”

“Y/n.” he glared, “I may be an idiot. A drunk. A shit bet. A terrible son, a worse brother, a mediocre user of High Valyrian and the least qualified person in the seven kingdoms to ever be king… but… uhhh… what was my point?”

“You think I want something?”

“Oh yeah! Yes, but I’m not an idiot. Wait, that was the first one. I’m not stupid.” He told her, “You brought me ale, pie, and neither of our mothers knows you’re here. What do you want?”

“I don’t want anything, can’t I just bring my uncle a nice pie on a stormy night?”

“What. Do. You. Want. Y/n?”

“… Something,”

“Speak. Or get out.”

“Could… you do that thing for me again?”

“That thing?” he raised a brow, already unable to hold back a sly smile,

“Mhm,”

“What thing?” he chuckled,

“That thing, you did… under the table during high valyrian lessons.”

“… That thing?” He smirked,

“Yes,”

“You liked… that thing I did for you?” he bit his bottom lip, already letting his eyes trail down, trying to find a way he can do it most efficiently, get under the skirts of her dress,

“Mhm,” she blushed,

“And you want me to do it again?”

“Yes, please.”

He scoffed, “Alright, spread your legs and pull up your dress for me.” He ordered, leaving no room for misunderstanding or hesitation,

She blushed hard and giggled, but nodded and obeyed his orders. She adjusted herself on the bed and pulled up her skirt, leaving it bunched around her waist, exposing her legs clad in her soft knee-high stockings and bare cunt.

“Good girl,” he growled. He gave her cheek a small kiss, and his hand slid up her leg and stroked gently over her outer lips, “I am more than happy to do… that thing for you again. So long as you make those adorable little noises again.”

“Mhm,” Y/n cooed, her breath already hitching,

He laughed smugly and stroked his index finger slowly between her lips and stroked the pad of his finger over her clit, watching as her face reacted with gentle pleasure, her cheeks flushing. Feeling the wetness gather against his fingers,

“Uuughhh… Aegon…” she whimpered,

“You are so cute,” he smirked, nibbling on her neck as he sped his finger up, rubbing up and down in fast and smooth movements,

“Uhh! UUuughhh-” she moaned,

Aegon growled, biting harder on her neck, leaving a hickey in the deepest crook of her neck as he added a second finger to rub, turning his vertical strokes into tight circles, “Does that feel good, princess?”

“Mhm-”

“Words. Use your words.”

“Yes…”

“Yes, what?”

“Yes, my prince.”

“Good Girl,” he growled, his hand becoming drenched with her arousal, “Do you love it when I do this… thing to you?”

“Yes,” she began to tremble, closing her eyes tightly as moans fell freely,

“Does this thing feel good?” he asked, moving his thumb to her clit, shoving his index and middle finger inside her with ease,

“Yes!” She moaned, her hips bucking towards his hand,

“Do you want me to keep going? Hu? You want me to make you cum again?” He asked,

“M- mhm- Yes! Yes Please… My prince…” she whimpered,

“Yeah? Just like I did under the table in the library, when you had to hide all your cute little moans from the maester?” he growled, thrusting his fingers as fast and hard as possible,

“Yes! Yes! Aegon, please!” She moaned,

“Go on, cum, or I’ll stop and leave you like this all night again.”

She whimpered, but luckily, with only one single thrust more, she hit her release, squealing and trembling, tumbling into his awaiting arms.

Aegon laughed, sliding his fingers out and licking them clean before he gave her a long wet kiss on the lips, “You really like that… thing, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” she cooed, nuzzling into his tunic,

“Alright,” he laughed, lying down and pulling her with him, “Sleep, I’ve got you.”

“Really, Aegon?”

“Yes, sleep, stupid girl. We can talk when your brain works again.”

She nodded, leaning up to give his lips a peck before she nuzzled up and almost immediately feel asleep,

Chris drove himself and y/n back to Camp Pineway. He parked up in his space and turned off the car. He got out quickly but carefully rushed around to the passenger side, and opened the door for her, helping her out of the car and slowly walking with her.

“I am not gonna crack and break, Chris,” she sighed,

“I know… I know, I just wanna keep you safe,” he reassured, as he slowly led her to the medical cabin, “Now… you want uppies, y/nbug?” He asked, offering his arms,

She sighed and hopped herself up onto the small examination table,

“Ohh… alright then,” he nodded, locking the door and steeling himself with a long exhale, “Will you let me see, y/n?”

“… Do you have to?”

“You know I do,”

She nodded,

“Okay, I will be very slow, and very gentle, if you want me to stop, you just say the word… and if you don’t wanna speak, just shove my hand,” he explained, before he began to roll up the sleeves of her hoodie, each inch he rolled revealed more and more scars each one cracking his heart a little more, once he was sure they had stopped he left her hoodie’s sleeves, leaving them at her elbows.

She remained silent, unable to meet his eyes without getting teary,

Chris sniffled his tears and forced himself to keep going, “I need to undo your cargo pants… is that okay, y/nbug?”

“Yeah…”

He nodded and very slowly undid her cargo pants, pulling them down inch by inch, fighting back his tears when he saw how scared her thighs were, “Ooohh… y/n… why ever would you do this?” he whimpered,

“It’s complicated,”

“You don’t have to tell me why,” he whispered, stopping when he found the last of the scars and cuts, leaving her pants around her knees. “Is that the last of them?”

She gave no answer,

“y/n. Is that all of them?”

“No.”

“Where else?” he trembled,

“You don’t need to see-”

“Where else, y/n?”

She sighed and pulled up her hoodie to reveal the scars and cuts on her stomach,

“Oh god-” He choked, “y/nbug…” he wept fully crying as he pressed his forehead against hers, “I can’t bear to see you like this.”

She tried to shove her hoodie down to conceal the scars again, but he stopped her,

“No. Let me look.”

“You said you couldn’t bear to see them…”

“I can’t. But I have to see them,” he whispered, “I have to look at them… to know they’re real. As much as it breaks my heart.” he sniffled, “Please, let me fix this.”

She trembled but nodded silently,

Chris nodded back and began to gather the needed supplies. He first collected some wipes to sanitise the many cuts and the ripped-open skin. “This… is going to sting, okay?”

“Sure…” she whimpered,

“Hey, I promise it’ll only hurt my y/nbug a little bit, then you’ll be okay.”

“Okay,” she nodded,

“Squeeze my hand, as hard as you want to,” he told her. As he pressed his forehead against her own, he was very tender and slow, running the wipes over her thigh. He was careful over each of her cuts, making sure he didn’t make it hurt too much but made sure to clean it all thoroughly.

Each wipe made her hiss and whimper, tears forming in her eyes from the pain.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry… I’m so sorry…” He mumbled as he worked up over her stomach,

“It hurts.” She cried,

“I know, I know, I’m so sorry,” he whimpered, “Not much longer, I promise.” As soon as he had cleaned the last cut, he tossed the wipes away and kissed her forehead, “It’s done, it’s done.” He cooed, “Just need to bandage them up, okay?”

“Okay,” she nodded,

“Okay, I’ll be gentle,” He promised her. As he gathered band-aids and bandages, he was very tender and gentle with her as he covered each of her cuts with loving precision, and wrapping the cloth bandages around the skin covered with the band-aids, “My poor poor y/n… my poor sweet y/nbug…” He whimpered, giving her wrists some soft kisses, “Can I… Can I kiss them better?”

“What?”

“I wanna give them kisses, every single one, so they heal.”

“That’s not how that works, Chris.”

“Please?” He begged, giving her his saddest puppy eyes,

“Fine,” she sighed,

Instantly, he began to beam. He began kissing down her arms, pressing his puckered lips to each and every bandaid through the bandages, all the while whispering sweet nothings into the cuts made by such sadness.

“You don’t have to do this.” She told him as he knelt down and began to kiss at her stomach through the bandages and her hoodie,

“I want to… I need too… anything to try and take such pain away.”

“It’s not your pain to take away,”

“No, I didn’t cause it. But that doesn’t mean I can't fix it,” he whispered as he kissed every single scar on her thighs,

“You are being too nice to me…”

Oscar marched from the dungeons, his sword's hilt gripped tight in his hand. As he emerged, Ser Lenton was waiting.

"My lord." He bowed as he rushed to follow, "The witch, she-"

"She is to remain sealed until I say otherwise."

"Yes, my lord."

"Have food and water brought to her; we have enough bad luck in this place; we don't need to offend a witch to add to it."

"Yes, my lord."

"And send the maester to my Solar. I will retire until I'm needed."

"But my lord your-"

"What?! What do you want from me?" Oscar snapped as he flipped around, but suddenly realised his tone and rubbed his face. "What is it, Ser Lenton?"

"I- it was not important. What shall I have the maester bring with him?"

"Lavender tea, and that... old book about the old gods."

"Yes, my lord."

"Thank you." he sighed,

Oscar marched off to the solar, the private space for the Tully family above the great hall. It was a long hall with high ceilings and windows with seats and shutters, full of antique furniture and thick, heavy fabrics. The fireplace was framed with the carved trouts of his sigil. The ceiling was painted with endless streams of silver trout with the names of the Tully ancestors all the way back to the first lord of Riverrun, Axel Tully, and ending with Oscar's own.

He poured himself a goblet of wine and sat down beside the large fireplace in a large blue chair; he gulped some down in the hope that enough wine might end up putting him to sleep, even if it was a drunken, exhausted collapse.

"My lord Tully," Maester Walton bowed as he arrived in the solar. The man, old and greying, having long served Lord Grover, his robes faded and fraying with his chains hung low, clinking as he moved, held a large leatherbound book in his arm as he approached,

"Maester," Oscar greeted as he stood, setting down his wine and adjusting the hem of his doublet slightly.

He always felt uncomfortable around Walton, something about the man having so much knowledge, so deeply bound to his family. After all, he'd tended to lord Grover for decades, attended Oscar's own parents, and was even integral in his own birth. Something about that made him feel exposed around him, like the man knew too much. He feared that in Maester Walton's eyes Oscar was not the Lord Paramount of the castle, but still the whining infant squealing naked for his mother.

"I pray I did not take you away from anything too urgent." Oscar finished,

"The men in the infirmary are holding strong; I am sure the women can attend them as long as I am needed."

"Good, I know many of them are struggling."

"You asked for this? Ser Lenton said, wanting to dive into the histories of the fanatics before the Seven's light broke through." He smiled, setting the heavy book down on the table,

"A bit of light reading, I assure you," he said, "Morbid curiosity."

"The mind is a strange mistress, often asking for the oddest of requests." Walton chuckled, "And Lavender tea?"

"Yes... I uhh I have not been sleeping much these past few nights; I hoped it might... assist."

"I'm afraid I am fresh out."

"Truly?"

"Yes, I have been using it for the men since I ran out of milk of the poppy," he explained, "I need many things for my laboratory but... the coin-"

"I am well aware of our lack of coin, Maester." Oscar snapped but pulled his tone back as he fetched his goblet and took a long gulp. "The war ravaged us; the coffers of the castle have been shipped to lord, lady and farmer alike, coin to rebuild bridges, homes, and as payment to the men who gave their lives for what now remains to us. But... I am... tired. I simply want something, anything that can assist me."

"If it is sleep that has escaped you, my lord." Maester Walton straightened. "Perhaps there is another issue somewhere; how is your constitution-"

"I assure you. My constitution is fine." Oscar glared,

"Perhaps it is the stress?"

"Well, the stress of being Lord Paramount is not exactly something you can hand me an oil for."

"That may be true, my lord, but... there is no reason to keep you stressed unnecessarily. If you are lacking for sleep and for time, perhaps it may be best if I took some things from you-"

"No." Oscar snapped, raising his hand and holding up his index finger to ensure the Maester's silence, even if he was still holding his goblet in that hand, "Now you listen to me, I am in no need of your assistance. You may have ruled Riverrun while my grandsire lay dying, and you may have taken the place of a leader while I went south to lead our men in war. And make no mistake, I am grateful for when you have taken command in my absence, however... I am no longer absent. And if I hear word of you offering to take any of my duty from me, you may just find yourself on a horse cart back to the citadel. I am well aware of our financial complications and the struggles of caring for the men who lie dying in the infirmary, but do not mistake my distraction for ill-mindedness. I am... Exhausted beyond reckoning, I have not had a solid night's sleep since I left Kings Landing." He growled, "Now... do you have something that can knock me the fuck out for eight hours, or not?"

Maester Walton shifted, not used to Oscar being so forceful with him. "I do not, My lord."

"Then you are excused."

He bowed and shuffled away, tail between his legs.

"Maester?" Oscar called out just before he left,

"Yes, my lord?"

"Take what little can be spared from the coffers. Send the maids out into the towns and see what ingredients can be gathered."

"Yes, of course. Thank you, my lord." He nodded before he quickly scampered away,

Viserys grimaced at the scent of the Dothraki camp, the whole place smelled like horse, sweat, leather and blood, a sickening mix in the hot heat of Vaes Dothrak. He ensured his lavish tent, a gift from Illiryio, was on the edges of the camp, far from the large fires and the tents filled with screaming whores. He had a hot bath drawn for him and summoned himself a slave girl to assist him, demanding he be brought a ‘Pretty one’. He sat sipping wine, awaiting her arrival, wearing only his jet black robe.

“Girl.” The Dothraki man barked as he entered Visery’s tent, dragging with him one of the many slave girls they had captured on their travels,

She let out a weak little whimper as she was dragged in, wearing nothing but an old cloak, but it concealed every inch of her from toes to temple.

“Wait.” Viserys ordered as he stood, his index finger extended in hope the dothraki would understand the motion if not the words, “Reveal her. If she is ugly, you can take her back and fetch me another.”

The man grunted but obeyed and, in a single second, ripped off the girl's cloak to reveal her.

She was completely bare, naked as she was born, her skin was remarkably unbruised and pale, not as pale as Viserys himself, but paler than he imagined she’d be, but what took him back the most were the flowing locks of silver blonde hair on her head, and the small patch of matching silver hairs that covered her cunt.

His brows raised, and a wicked smile moved across his lips, “Go, now.” He ordered the man without even glancing at him,

The man stormed out without a word, leaving the two alone,

Viserys took his time making sure he saw every single inch of this girl, “Humm… hello darling.”

She met his eyes and bowed her head,

“What an interesting little thing you are, wherever did they find you?” he asked as he closed the gap between them and curled his fingers in her silver locks,

“Lys. Your grace,”

“Lys? Fascinating.” He chuckled, moving closer close enough to feel the heat of her skin, “Did he tell you what I want you for?”

“No, your grace.”

“I want a pretty little thing who knows how to tend to a king,” he smirked, brushing the tip of his nose on hers, “I have no intention of harming you, unless you wake the dragon, are we clear?”

“Yes, your grace.”

“Good,” he grinned, “prepare the bath.”

She nodded and quickly moved to the edge of the tub. She was nervous at first, shyly standing beside it, but when she saw him clearly watching, she made sure to do it nicely. She sat her hip on the edge of the tub and leaned down like a siren dipping her hand into the steamy water. It was hot but not enough to hurt her skin, so she didn’t flinch. She added oils, flower petals and salts to the bath, ensuring it would be scented like the luxury Viserys desired. “It- it is ready, your grace.”

“Good, I, however, am not.”

“Of course,” she bowed her head and stood once more. She slowly went over to him, trying to keep her head down as she untied his black robe,

But Viserys tilted her chin up until she met his eyes, seeming to inspect her face,

Regardless, he continued and pulled the robe from his body, revealing his thin shape. He was already half hard for her and made no attempt at modesty. He ran his hand down himself, stroking the rough curls of silver hair above his cock, before then grabbing her cunt without warning or permission, stroking his thumb on her own silver hair, “Humm, we match, don’t we?”

“Yes, your grace, it appears to be so.”

“Does that thrill you, darling?” He asked, leaning in to kiss her jaw as his fingers rubbed her clit,

She didn’t resist but didn’t lean into him either, “… I… I do not know, your grace.”

“Cause it thrills and delights me greatly,” he smirked, pulling his hand back and licking his fingers clean, “Go on,” He told her, pushing her hip to turn her towards the bath and giving her a firm smack on the ass,

She bit back a yelp but walked to the bath, standing like a sentinel beside it,

Viserys came over slowly and climbed into the steamy water, hissing softly as he lowered himself down, sitting with his back against the wooden tub and his arms on the edges, “Come.”

She silently gulped but obeyed, climbing into the water and sitting herself on his lap,

“Hummm, hello darling,” he smirked, moving his hands to her hips, “Right where a pretty thing like you belongs,”

“Yes, your grace,” she nodded, going to reach for the washcloth,

But he grabbed her hand and brought it to his bare chest, “No, no. We are going to talk first, you have intrigued me.”

“Of course, your grace.”

“Do you come with a name? Or do I delightfully get to name my favourite little thing?”

“Y/n,”

“I’m surprised, I expected you to have a Valyrian name,” he chuckled, “Like… Saera… or Alyssa… or Rhayella.”

“No, your grace just y/n.”

“Humm, very well, but I admit my disappointment,” he smirked, “You said you came from Lys.” He asked, allowing her to take the washcloth and begin to scrub his sweat-coated body,

“Yes, Lys.”

“And whom were you born to?”

“My p-parents? You’re grace.”

“And their names,” he growled,

“I- I do not know my king. I was taken… so young.”

He hummed, playing softly with her hair, “Do you recall any if your mother or father had hair like yours?”

“My mother did.”

“Humm, it's very pretty hair. I like it very much.” He cooed, shifting her hips until his cock brushed the lips of her pussy, “Will you scream if I slip my cock inside you?”

“I- uh- no. No, your grace.”

“Good, smart girl,” he growled, thrusting up in one deep, only stopping once he was hilt deep inside her, “Ughh- fuck- you are tight for a slave girl.”

She whimpered but held tightly onto the edge of the tub as he began his rough thrusts,

“Nyke hae aōha ōghar olvie olvie (I like your hair very much)” He growled in her ear, “Jaelan mirri gēlenka zaldrīzoti, would ao hae bona? (I want some silver dragons, would you like that?)”

“Pardon, your grace.”

“I want silver-haired sons, who will one day inherit my throne. You will give them to me, won’t you, Y/n?”

“Do I have a choice?” she panted,

“Humm, not if you want to live,” he growled, biting on her neck,

“Yes, my king,” she whimpered,

Visenya was dragged into the throne room, her bag and jewellery box clutched to her chest, a King's guard on each arm. She was forced to walk to the bottom of the steps up to the throne, and there on the throne sat Aegon; Aegon the First’s crown sat on his head and blackfire at his hip.

He smugly smirked down at her and sat back against the throne. “Hello, my sweet niece, so nice to see you’ve chosen to remain here, under the eye of your rightful king.”

“I did not choose to remain.” She spat, “I was locked in my chambers! And dragged back when I tried to leave!”

“No need to be so dramatic,” he laughed, “You understand the ways of things, that I am the rightful heir and your mother a pretender. You are smarter than I ever gave you credit for.”

“And you are even more of an idiot than I ever gave you credit for.”

“Relieve her of her items; she needs empty hands for this.”

But the moment the guards moved closer, she flinched back. “You touch me, or anything of mine. I will burn you alive.”

“She is a girl; her beast is chained down in the dragonpit. Take her things. Now!” Aegon demanded,

“No! NO!” Visenya screamed as the knights ripped her bag and her jewellery box from her arms, “NOOO!”

“Take them to her new chamber,” Aegon smirked. “Now you are unburned; you are free to make as grand a moment as you wish. You know I do so love your dramatics, Bend the knee.”

She met his eyes and took a long breath. “No.”

He laughed. “Do not make me ask you again; you stand before the king of the seven kingdoms as princess and representative for your family. Bend the knee.”

“No. I will not bend the knee to a usurper.”

His smile dropped, and he slowly stood. “Visenya, sweet niece. The crown sits on my head, my arse sits on the throne, I am heir by right. When you bend the knee, I will be merciful. I will let you live as princess in the Red Keep with all the luxuries you enjoy; Shadowflame will be unchained, and you may fly with my or Aemond’s supervision. For the sake of your mother, of your beloved brothers and their betrotheds, of young Aegon and Viserys and the child your mother now carries. Bend the knee, and I will spare them agony.”

“You will spare them?” She asked,

“Spare them agony. I was to line you all up before Sunfyre and Vhagar’s flames but… A simple execution with Blackfyre will suffice if you do as I ask”

“And what of me? Am I to be in this line?”

“No. No.” He smirked, “You are to be my second bride. Helaena has all but fulfilled her usefulness with the twins; I doubt I’ll get another from her. But you are… young and fertile; you can give the realm plenty more princes and princesses, and even if you can’t… I will so deeply enjoy breaking you.”

“I would rather die. I would order shadowflame to burn me alive before I submitted to be your bride.”

He scoffed, “Bend. The. Fucking. Knee. Or bend over; either I’ll take it as your submission.”

“Never.”

“Bend. The. Knee. Or I will bend you over the throne and fuck you bloody with my sword,” he threatened her,

“Jikagon naejot se puatta nopāzma hen Valyria” (Go to the rotting hell of Valyria.) She spat,

“You insolent little whore.” He yelled, “Seize her!” He commanded,

The kingsgaurd instantly grabbed her as she kicked, screamed and swore using everything she had as she was brought up the steps of the throne.

Aegon stepped down with a smirk. “On the floor, and pull up her dress; make it easy for your king.”

“No! NO! NOOOOO!” She screamed as they lowered her onto her back before the throne and pulled up her dress; she kicked and thought all she could, but the knights were simply too strong,

“Ahh… memories,” Aegon smirked as he stood between her legs, staring down at her exposed cunt, as he unlaced his britches,

“King Aegon!” The voice of Otto Hightower boomed as he marched into the throne room,

“Yes, my lord Hand? Do not mind the screams; merely reprimanding the princess.”

“Take her to her chamber,” he said as he closed the gap,

“No! I am in the midst of-”

“You cannot do this,” Otto warned quietly,

“I am king. Am I not? Did you not just have Cole place the crown upon my head? I do as I wish to do.”

“Yes… my king, but” Otto trailed off, “There are things the crown itself cannot be seen to do; punish her as you wish. Privately. Before the court titles you a monster who raped his own niece before the throne.”

Aegon grimmaced but relented, “Take her to her chambers, bar the door. If I see her outside of the chamber again, I will have whoever let her out’s head.” he warned, "I will see you later, sweet niece."

Finn barely wanted to let Y/n leave his grip, terrified that if he dared let go of her for even a second, she’d simply cease to exist, and he’d be alone again. But she gripped him with the exact same fear, both trembling, crying and holding one another as tight as they could before hurting one another. Eventually, Y/n pulled back, but remained within Finn’s arms, her hands gripping his jacket like claws, but their eyes meeting.

“How did you get here? How did you survive this long? Where have you been? I need to know everything! Tell me everything! Even if it’s just gibberish! Please, I wanna hear your voice.” He whimpered,

“I walked; the streets have all been empty as far as I’ve gone. I’ve been making beds in camping stores, supermarkets, anything with food and enough pillows to feel warm.” She explained, “What about you? Where did you come from?”

“I- I have a house, it’s not far from here. A generator, a fireplace, a real bed.”

“My goodness!”

“It’s not much, but it’s safe, and warm and… I have what I need to cook and clean, live as normal a life as possible.”

“I’m so glad you’ve been safe; I’m so happy someone else has been able to last this long.”

“But… you… You’ve just been… living like this?”

“Well, I haven’t had much choice. I don’t remember the last time I had a hot shower.”

“You- you have to come!”

“What?”

“My house! I have space for you. We can stay together, live together, where it’s safe and secure. Work together until we find out what happened!”

“I couldn’t ask that of you; we just met-”

“Sweet Angel, you are the first person I have heard or seen in months; you can’t survive in this place,” He told her, “Neither of us can survive much longer on our own.”

She sadly nodded in agreement, “You’re right, but I promise we'll work together as equals.”

“Equals,” he nodded.

“We can load up twice as much stuff, take it to your place.”

“Absolutely!” He cheered, “Load up your things, and we’ll gather anything else we need, take it back and get comfy before the next snowstorm rolls in.”

“We'd better act fast then,” she said.

The two sprang into action, both working like cogs in a well-oiled machine, as if they had been doing this for years and not met mere moments ago. But despite that, Finn knew in his heart he would not let anything happen to Y/n; he would do anything, becoming protective and admittedly territorial of her in only a few short minutes. But there was no doubt she felt the same about him.

They loaded up the trailer with as much as they could, almost overloading it with everything that could be useful to them. Finn climbed onto his bike, and Y/n got herself a bike being sold in the store and attached it to the trailer too. The snow began to fall, and the wind became intensely cold and strong. Finn led the way, and the two worked together to pull the heavy trailer all the way to his house.

As soon as they arrived, Finn began to open up the garage for them. Y/n climbed off the bike, and her jaw fell open in shock as he looked at the house standing before her.

“Ohhh my god-” she gasped.

“It’s safe, secure, I promise.” He told her.

“It’s amazing!”

“Thanks, come on, let's get inside before the snow gets any worse.”

“Okay,” she nodded, “So long as you’re sure I can-”

“I am sure, sweet angel.” he cooed, offering his hand.

She gently took his hand and helped to push the bikes and trailers into the garage.

Finn sealed the garage as soon as they were inside, adding several high-quality locks on the door. He led her upstairs into the main house, slowly giving her a tour of the place.

“This… this place is beautiful.”

“Well, you are welcome to stay as long as you want to.”

“You mean it?”

“Of course, you are safe here, and with the winter storms rolling in, the world out there is only going to get worse. Here we can be safe together, secure, and we can survive… finally, without being alone.”

“It sounds too good to be true.”

“I promise you, it’s safe, and it’s all real. There is no rug pull, and I promise I’m not crazy.” he smiled, “Well, maybe a little crazy given everything…”

She giggled, “I think we’re both a little crazy.”

“True, that is a good point.” he laughed. “I’ll get the supplies put away and get the fire going, if you want to go have a shower and set up in the guest- well, your room.”

“I’ll help to-”

“No, come on. You said you can’t even remember the last time you had a hot shower. Go, take the toiletries and have as long a shower as you want, and get warm and cosy.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure,” he cooed, “And we can toss your clothes in the laundry too so everything is nice and clean when you put it away.”

“But then… what do I wear when I get out of the shower, if all my clothes are in the laundry?”

“Well, Uhhh… You can borrow something of mine if you like? I can spare a hoodie and a pair of warm socks.”

Y/n smiled widely and nodded, leaning up on her hip toes and giving his cheek a little kiss. “Thank you, Finn.”

“You’re more than welcome, Y/n.” he blushed. “Go on, enjoy your shower. Down the hall and to the left, and then your rooms upstairs on the right.”

She nodded, going to fetch the toiletries and giving him a little wave as she went to the bathroom.

Snow lay in piles across campus, slowly melting into the drains from the warming temperature. The sun was still blocked by the vast sky of low-hanging grey clouds. Various students wandered from place to place on their lunch breaks, some heading into town to buy snacks, others rushing to the cafeteria to grab the last of the mac and cheese. But Mike was perhaps in his happiest place, at least the happiest he’d been in a few days. He and Lana had snuck themselves under the bleachers, the ground littered by gathered snow, candy wrappers and cigarette ends. The tight metal stands blocked them from view, at least from anyone who wasn’t literally staring directly through the rails.

Mike stood with his back up against one of the tall support posts, with his grey jacket tossed on the next one over; the metal of the support felt cold even through his Hellfire Club T-shirt. His jet black curls fell over his closed eyes; his hands trailed Lana’s body, one on her hip having slipped under her plaid overshirt, brushing his thumb over the waistband of her black bootcut jeans, while his other hand was at the back of her head, his fingers knotted and looped around the curls of her hair.

Lana herself, happily pressed her body fully against Mike, her hands on his pectoral muscles, and her head tilted to the side as their lips met in desperate, needy, passionate kisses.

They’d been making out since arriving under the bleachers, and had no sign they were going to stop any time soon. The cold didn’t seem to bother either of them, their body heat being shared well enough to keep out the chill. Their lips clacked over every other sound, even if Mike’s groans and moans often erupted to break the rhythm.

Mike tightened his grip on Lana, pulling her even closer, until he felt her chest squeeze against his own. Instantly, he let out a moan into their kisses, and his hips mindlessly bucked up, his own fly clicking on hers.

Lana broke the kiss and smugly laughed, starting to press her kisses down his jawline, “I felt that.”

“I figured you would,” he panted, leaning his head back to expose all of his throat for her, trying to coax her down.

“So needy today,” She smirked, going up and nibbling his ear to tease him more,

“I can’t help it…” he whimpered, “I miss you being all cosy in my bed, my hand just… isn’t the same as you,” He whined, purposely grinding his hips to get even the faintest feelings of friction through his jeans.

“Really?” She smugly smirked as she planted a trail of kisses down the crane of his neck.

“Ummm… mhm… nothing compares to how it felt, lying in bed with you.” He panted,

“Never thought you’d be begging so obviously for me, Mike.”

“Begging is an understatement,” he growled, sliding his hands down to grab her ass, his palms taking as much of her cheeks as he could hold, “Come on… I wanna fool around.”

She pulled back and met his yearning gaze, “But we have to be quick, before lunch is over.”

He nodded so fast he swore he heard a ringing in his ears; he tried to lean back in to kiss her again, but she moved back, much to his confusion, “Lana… what are you -”

But his answer came instantly as she gave the tip of his nose a little peck and she slid her hands down his Hellfire shirt and shifted to her knees,

“L-Lana.” He choked, all the blood rushing to his cock, his mind empty of any and all thought, blinking rapidly in hope he could somehow mentally photograph the image of her like this,

“Shhhh…” she reminded him, her hands brushing gently over the tight denim,

“You- you’re really… going to-” he panted,

“Mhm,” she nodded, quickly undoing the button and fly, letting the denim pop open to reveal the red boxers he wore,

“You- you’re sure? You uhh you’ve already done so much, we can do something for you if you want too?”

“Maybe after,” she smirked, tugging his jeans down a little and stroking over the obvious bulge in his cotton boxers, cupping his hard cock and giving it a gentle rub,

“Ohh fuck-” He cursed,

“Unless you don’t want to-”

“No! No no no… I want you too… please… please Lana…” he panted, “You’d make me the happiest guy in Hawkins… in Indiana… in the whole damn world!”

She chuckled and smugly smiled. She quickly pulled his boxers down, watching with eager eyes as his hard cock jumped free like a compressed spring,

Mike could barely look down, knowing he was throbbing with need already. The cold air was almost enough to make him hiss, his body trembling and shaking; he glanced down, seeing how she licked her lips and closed the gap to begin kissing him.

Lana began with soft and gentle kisses on the head of his cock, her eyes fully on his own.

“Oooohhh fuck-” he cursed, fighting the rush of pleasure that urged him to buck his hips towards her mouth, “Lana!”

She hummed and moved down, prepping a trail of kisses down his vainy shaft,

“Ughhhh-” he moaned, grabbing onto the metalwork to try and resist his needy urges, “Uuughhh!” he mindlessly bucked his hips towards her mouth,

“Hey!” she laughed, “Be gentle,” she cooed, taking his other hand and kissing his palm and setting it in her hair,

He nodded and twisted his fingers back into her hair, focusing on remembering to breathe and keep himself from screaming.

She parted her lips and took his cock into her mouth, taking half of his whole length and slowly starting to suck, hollowing her cheeks and sliding her head back and forth. Gliding her tongue around his throbbing head as she moved in a gliding rhythm.

Mike moaned in his throat, his eyes wide, his mouth agape and every inch of him trembling and shaking. He let his eyes roll back from pure unfathomable pleasure, his toes curling in his converse, his fingers twisting in her hair, her name falling from his lips like she possessed all answers in this universe, and he knew he never ever wanted this feeling of the wet warmth of her mouth to stop. But the tight spring inside him was coiling tighter and tighter, and he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

And it was the feeling of Lana moving deeper, her lips sealing around the hilt of his cock that tipped him over, every inch of him inside her mouth as she sucked and licked.

But he immediately felt the wave of pleasure, his hips bucked up into her mouth, and he let out an animalistic whimpery moan of helplessness. As satisfaction rushed through him and he filled her mouth. “Fuck- Oh god- ughhh… Lana…” he whimpered,

She gulped everything down and licked him clean before she pulled back and smiled up at him, “Good?”

“Good… fucking beyond words, sweetheart.” He smiled, “That was the most amazing thing I have felt in my life.”

“Anyone ever done that for you before?”

“No…” He shook his head, quickly pulling his boxers up and doing his fly up before anyone saw, “Thank you, so so much.”

“You’re welcome,” she smiled as she stood once more,

“Is it possible I can… get that again? Maybe on the way home? And tomorrow? And the day after?”

“You really liked it, huh?”

“Very much.” he nodded, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her flush against him again. He tried to lean in for a kiss, but she stopped him, placing a finger on his puckered lips, “Ummm? Sweetheart, no kiss?”

“You think that’s a good idea, given what I just had in my mouth?” she reminds as she slid her finger away,

Mike gulped and nodded, “Good point.”

“Come on, we need to start heading back for class,” she said, going to grab her bag, but he stopped her and pulled her back,

“Hey, you can’t just walk away. You spoiled me, I need to do something for you too-” He began,

But the moment he tried to slide his hands towards her jeans, the bell rang for their next class,

“Maybe tonight, Mike,” she told him, kissing his forehead and grabbing her stuff,

“Alright, bike racks after school?!” he called after her as he grabbed his own backpack,

“I’ll be there!” she called back, already heading to her next class,

Not Nurse - 15

Cashier - 17

Kitten - 18+

Candy Bar - 17

Carl sat in his bed, his body on top of his covers, with his back against the headboard, reading his comic book. He knew Rick and Michonne were both out tonight, so he kept his bedroom door open, listening for Judith asleep in her nursery. But it was another sound that caught his attention, the pittering and pattering of rocks against his bedroom window. He set down his comic and got to his feet, heading over to his window. He pulled up his blinds and peered out.

Where he saw Y/n standing in the grass, in her usual baggy clothes, she waved, placing down her handful of gravel,

He pushed open the window and stuck his head out, “Ughhh, hey? You know we have a front door, right?”

“I know, I didn’t wanna wake Judith,” she admitted, “And you know your dad scares me,”

“He’s not that bad,” he laughed, “How did you even know this was my window?”

“I didn’t… I may have been throwing pebbles at the other one for ten minutes.”

“Just come in the front door, Y/n,” he sighed,

“Okay,” she nodded, before she disappeared to come inside,

He went to his bedroom door, watching as she came up the stairwell, “Hey, any reason you decided to come bug me today?”

“… Kinda,” she blushed,

“Alright, come on. What’s bouncing around that head of yours?” He asked as he let her into his room,

“You uhh… remember the day we met, don’t you?”

“Course I do,”

“And you… remember… what you did to me?” She asked, sitting down on the edge of his bed,

“What did I do to you?” he asked, leaning on his chest of drawers and crossing his arms,

“You know when you… searched me,”

“Oh!” He instantly began to blush, “Yeah, I uhh I remember.”

“Would uhhh… would you do it again?” she asked sheepishly,

“What? Search you?”

“Yeah,”

“Why? I trust you, everyone in Alexandria does.”

“I know, but… would you anyway?”

“Why? Are you… hiding something?”

“Maybe.”

“Okay, so why do you want me to search you?”

“Because I can’t… stop thinking about it,” she gasped, “The way your hands… and how defenceless I was and… everything.”

“…Y/n, did you… Like it when I searched you?”

“A little,”

“Ohh uhh… yeah I admit… I uhh kinda liked it too.” he blushed, rubbing the back of his neck,

“So, would you do it again?” she asked,

“I mean, what are you hiding?” he smirked a little,

“Something.” She shrugged,

“Something? Something… I’m gonna wanna find?”

“I think so.”

“Humm… okay,” he smirked, “I’m gonna go and get us some soda, and you can… make sure whatever you're hiding is nice and hidden, and when I get back, I’ll be very thorough with you, sound good?”

“Mhm,” she nodded excitedly,

Without even a moment of hesitation, Mike undid his belt, and his trousers dropped both to his ankles. He was already panting and so very hard for her.

She glanced up and smugly smiled, “Boxers too, Mr Wheeler.”

“Ughh, yes, Ma’am.” He groaned, shoving off his boxers and stepping out of his pile of clothes. He felt no shame being exposed to her, his bare legs and cock on full display for her, already jumping up in anticipation of her touch,

“Umm… good boy,” She cooed,

“Mhm…” he groaned, biting his bottom lip, “I will be a very good boy for you, Ma’am… I’ll be a very very good boy, if you want me to be… but I can… I can also be a bad boy… if you want me to be.”

“How accommodating.” She smirked, setting down her paperwork and standing from her chair. She came around her desk, leaned on the front of her dress and pulled her hair from its ponytail. “How long have you been hard?” She asked,

“Since you left me, ma’am,” he whimpered, falling to his knees in front of her, leaning down to kiss her stocking-clad ankles, slipping off her red soled heels to kiss the feet that had earlier pleased him, “I am so sorry… I was… I was touching myself under my desk, just at the mere thought of you.”

“Umm, how sweet,” She cooed, her hand sliding into his hair and down his jaw to pick his face up to meet hers, “Well, you won’t be working down in the closet anymore, you’ll be up here with me from now on. You won’t need to do such things, will you?”

“No, no, Ma’am. I will- I will only touch myself if you demand me to…”

“That’s an awful lot of power you're giving me, Michael. What about when you leave work? Do you really expect me to believe you won’t be doing such things when you’re all alone?”

“If you tell me not to. I won’t.” He promised her as he kissed her knees,

“Hummm… would you let me be sure of that?”

“Su-sure?” he choked,

“There are… toys one can buy. Locks and chains that would make it impossible for you to touch.”

“You- you don’t need to do that, I promise… I give you my word.”

“And if you failed, you’d tell me?”

“Yes, yes, I would, Miss Y/l/N.”

“And you’d let me punish you, for breaking your word?”

“Yes.”

“Good boy,” she cooed, “What if I were to get you something else, to prove you're all mine?”

“Anything… anything you want to get me, I will cherish, Ma’am.”

“Such a good pet, aren’t you, Mike Darling?” She smiled, “Did you bring what I asked you for?”

“Yes… two of them,”

“Very prepared.” She smirked, “Put one on.”

“Yes, Ma’am.” He moaned, kissing her thighs before he crawled to his pants, grabbed the condom from his pocket and crawled back to her. He ripped it open with his teeth and slid the latex down his aching cock, “Ughh- There…”

“Good boy,” she smirked, “Are you ready?”

“Yes! Yes… Please!” He begged,

She smugly smiled and leaned down to kiss his lips softly, before she turned her back to him and pressed her hands against her desk, bending over it.

“Ughhh fucking- God yes!” He moaned, jumping to his feet and pressing himself against her back, rubbing his hips against her ass, “Uughhh- uuuuhhh- may I, Ma’am? Please… Please…”

“You may,” She chuckled,

“Yes!” He gasped, his hands sliding down her skin-tight dress, gathering the bottom hem and pulling it up around her waist, her stockings ended high at her thigh, and she wore only a bright red lace thong, which already had him leaking precum, “Oh my god- you’re so beautiful… so beautiful… I don’t deserve you, Ma’am… I don’t - deserve your touch… let alone your perfection… uhh- may I- may I please remove your panties, Ma’am?”

“You may, Mike Darling.” She chuckled, “And then you can be a very good boy and fuck me.”

“Yes! Yes, Mistress!” he groaned, his hands shaking from excitement as they slid over her hips, the soft lace brushing against his fingers. He took the waistband in hand and tugged the thong down until it was left pooling around her ankles. Mike’s brain completely broke down. He wanted to speak, wanted to articulate how lucky he was, how happy he was, how beautiful she looked, but he could barely remember to breathe. His body worked on instinct, his cock jumping up stiff and high as he pushed his hips forward, sliding the tip of his cock around her lips, before he slipped inside her pussy. It was warm, tight, and wet around him; even just the feeling of her utterly surrounding him was almost enough to tip him over the edge.

“Ughh!” she moaned, rolling her hips back against him,

“I- I don’t know… how long I can last, Miss Y/l/n…” he panted as his hips bucked over and over, already sputtering precum into the condom,

“I don’t give you permission to cum.” she smirked,

“Uughhhh! Uuuughhhh! Yes, Mistress!” He groaned, leaning his chin against her shoulder, squeezing his eyes tight, his cock throbbing inside her so hard every other feeling in his body disappeared, with his only focus the rhythmic pump of his hips,

“Uuuh! Good boy…” She moaned, “Faster…”

“Mhm…” he groaned, obeying her orders even if he was on another plane of pleasurable existence; he could feel her tightening around him as well as his own spurts of cum starting to sputter out into the condom,

“Ahhh- UGhhh- Yes!” She squealed, her nails digging into her desk as she danced along the edge of pleasure,

He used the last of his energy to speed up one final time just enough to tip her over the edge,

She screamed out and clenched tightly around him, her juices slipping down her thighs as she was wracked by pleasure,

Just the feeling of her release was enough to tip him over, too, his hips bucking wildly against her as he filled the condom to the utter brim, and he collapsed against her, panting and sweating. “I’m so sorry… I’m sorry, mistress…”

“What for?” She panted,

“I came…”

She chuckled, “After me?”

“Yes…”

“Then it’s fine, Mike Darling,” she cooed, her hand coming up to twist in his jet black locks and kiss his cheek,

“Thank you…” He nodded, “Do… do I have to pull out?”

“You wanna stay inside?”

“Mhm… you feel so good…”

“Alright,” she chuckled, “Change your condom, and then you can stay warm inside while I finish my work.”

“Ughh! Thank you, Ma’am…” He groaned, he gathered his energy and slowly pulled out with a soft moan, looking down at how full the condom was, completely filled with his jizz, so much so it was starting to trail up his shaft beside the veins of his cock,

“My, my, so desperate even after your kisses earlier?” she smirked as she turned to face him,

“I can’t help it, you feel so good.” He cooed,

“Good boy,” she smiled, kissing his lips as she kicked off her panties and tossed her hair back up into a ponytail,

He smiled, slowly peeling off the condom and tying it up tight so nothing escaped, he tossed it into the trash and cleaned off his hands and cock before he ripped open and slid on his second condom,

“Come on, sit,” she cooed, tapping her chair.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he eagerly nodded, moving with hurried steps to her chair and sitting himself down on it, putting his shoes against the legs that held the wheels and happily offering his arms to her,

She chuckled and kissed his lips softly before she sat herself down, sliding down his cock until he was hilt deep inside her. She then shuffled the chair closer to her desk and grabbed her papers to keep working,

Mike was beyond happy, in utter heaven at being allowed and even encouraged to cockwarm his boss! He gently wrapped his arms around her waist, resting his hands comfortably on her stomach and put his chin against her shoulder. “Is this going to become one of my regular duties, after my promotion?”

“I think so,” she nodded, “you make a very good chair.”

“Ummm, I have a lot of features…”

“Such as?”

“Well, I can massage you while you're working.” He cooed, sliding his hands over her back, “I can remind you when you need to take breaks,” he cooed, kissing her neck tenderly, “I can… double check your paperwork for you without you needing to get up… and… other things,”

“Alright, I’m convinced,” she chuckled, “But you still have to work your regular job until I get things sorted with HR, you know?”

“I know… but then I get to be up here with you?”

“All day. Everyday. Mike darling,” she smiled,

“Thank you… really… thank you Miss Y/l/n.”

“Just Y/n.”

“Okay,” he blushed, “Thank you, Y/n.”

“You’re welcome, Michael.”

“Just Mike is okay, I like it better.”

Visenya paced her chamber like a caged dragon; she tried everything to escape the room but to no success. She’d even tried bribing the guards, but to no avail. As darkness fell, she began to panic and think of who in the castle might still be loyal to her mother, and by extension to her, if there was perhaps some way she could get a signal to Shadowflame and have him rain fire on the castle and break her windows. But as night turned to the next dawn, her door was opened, not by Alicent or even Aegon but someone else.

Princess Rhaenys, dressed in a heavy cloak. With Ser Erryk at her back, his hand on his sword and a bag at his side.

“We must go, princess.” Ser Erryk said firmly,

“And I told you, I will not go without my granddaughter.” Rhaenys snapped, “Gather everything you cannot bear to live without and come with me. Now.”

“I- Yes, Grandmother,” Visenya nodded without question. She threw her dress and her jewellery box into a bag and threw on a dark cloak,

“We must hurry, in hope we can make it to the pit before sunrise,” Erryk said as he walked the two through the halls,

“What is going on?” Visenya asked,

“Your grandsire is dead, Alicent has lost her mind in grief and means to make Aegon king in the light of the seven.”

“But she cannot, they all swore to my mother.”

“Bent knees mean little now, princess.”

“If they swore it, they should mean it; they should reject Aegon.”

“And risk Vhagar and Sunfyre burning them as they stand.”

“The alternative to risk Caraxes and Syrax.”

“Yes, well, many of them can be convinced at the point of a sword, or Otto Hightower’s demands.”

“Then what is our intention?”

“We get to the dragon pit, make a break into the caverns and escape on Melyes and Shadowflame while they are distracted with Aegon’s coronation.” Ser Erryk explained,

“They are already coronating him!” Visenya asked,

“They know they have no time to wait, nor do we,” Rhaenys said, linking her arm with Visenya to keep them close and tightly locked together,

Erryk managed to sneak them out through a secret passage and down into the streets of King’s Landing, beyond the Red Keep’s walls. They smelt foul, and the cobbles were coated in so much grime and dirt that it almost made Visenya feel sick. But there was little time to hesitate, as the Dragon pit was a far walk through the streets.

The closer they got, the madder it became; the streets became flooded with smallfolk all being herded from their homes by Kingsguard knights. Luckily, Rhaenys and Visenya remained safe under Erryk’s protection, but that didn’t stop them from being cornered more than once and forced to walk with the smallfolk through the narrow streets, all being herded towards the dragonpit.

Until suddenly, as another stream of smallfolk joined from an off street, Visenya was knocked back by an unknown person, the bag of her belongings slipped from her hand, and she dropped it onto the stone.

“No!” She yelled out, breaking from Rhaenys’ grip, to run against the stream of people desperate to get back to her bag,

“No! Just leave it!” she tried desperately to convince her,

“We must go!” Erryk demanded,

“Visenya.” Rhaenys barked, rushing after her,

But when Visenya reached her bag, it had spilled open, the ancient music box broken from being trampled and the jewellery spilt out onto the dirt, she rushed to her knees and began scooping everything she could into the bag, praying no one saw the gems, her feet and hands were being stepped on often causing her to yelp and cry as gems were broken open from their holdings.

“Visenya, we must-” Rhaenys began, but she stopped short as she saw a flash of the box as Visenya shoved it away, “Where… where did you get that?” She began to pant,

“You there!” A king's guard yelled as he noticed them stopped. Erryk tried to go back for them, but the stream of people was far too fast. The guard grabbed Visenya and pulled her to her feet, and instantly, he smirked, “Hello, princess.”

“Go.” Visenya whimpered,

“No! Visenya!” Rhaenys began,

“Go!” She screamed, pushing her grandmother away, allowing the stream to push her to Erryk’s waiting grasp,

The guard wasted no time dragging her into an now-empty alley, forcing her as she kicked and screamed back towards the red keep,

“Let me go! Let me go now!” Visenya screamed,

“The dowager queen will be very thrilled with me, that I got the little princess back to the castle.” He laughed,

“Or angry I escaped in the first place.”

“The less you fight, the easier this will be.”

It was a warm day, a classic day of deep summer in Oldtown with the sea kissing the shore. The tall, thin corridors of the keep were busy with maids, maesters and merchants. The heat was enough that every lady carried a fan and parasole to keep them from succumbing, and even most lords were stripped down from their many layers. But high in the keep, in his vast chamber, Ormond sat at his desk. His windows and shutters were sealed up; he had several incense burners puffing sweet-scented smoke into the air, his quill in hand as he let it glide across his parchment pages.

The door opened, and Daeron nervously stepped inside, his hands behind his back and his head low. He tried not to cough from the overwhelming scent of sweet flowers. He stepped closer but not fully into the space of Ormond’s desk, a tried-and-tested length away he’d only learnt from trial and error.

“You wanted to see me, My lord,” Daeron spoke up,

“Have you had time to ponder what we discussed?” Ormond asked without looking up from his papers,

“I… I have,”

“And? The Lady Tyrell is a good match: wealthy family, good breeding, suitable.”

“I… I don’t want to accept her hand,” he said,

“And why not? This is the seventeenth match that has come for you.”

“I know. I just… I want to be sure I pick the best match.”

“The patient hunter gets the kill. But I worry perhaps if you keep waiting for the perfect doe to stroll by, you may be left only with the rabbits.”

“I understand, I just… I want to be patient, ensure I know every option.”

“Very well.”

Silence hung longer than Daeron liked; silence always made him feel anxious. Finally he found his voice once more. “My lord?”

“Yes?”

“... have you had a chance to… ponder what I put to you?”

“Remind me?”

“My suggestion, to perhaps… offer my hand… to the princess Y/n?”

Ormond slowly raised his head, but his eyes didn’t meet Daeron. “What?” He asked calmly and controlledly,

“I…” Daeron struggled, but he pushed his shoulders back and his chin high. “I want to offer my hand to Princess Y/n; I have grown up beside her; it would weld the gap between factions. We… we would be happy.”

Without a word, Ormond drew his sword and swung hard and fast in violent, blind fury, taking chunks out of already heavily scarred bedposts at times; his swings were inches from Daeron.

But he trembled and remained still, begging all the gods not to have the rage turned to him.

Once his tantrum-like outburst quelled, he dropped his sword and met Daeron’s eyes. “You… will not marry that whore’s bastard girl. I have told you… a thousand times. And yet you try my patience and ask again?”

“... This is what I want,” he said quietly,

“What you want is not my concern. She is an ill-bred, vile thing, the bastard daughter of a upstrunt whore. The gods saw fit Valyria’s destruction; they were vain and lustful creatures of sin. And in those dragon riders they survive as a test of our allegiance.” He said, “Go, pray before the mother for mercy, and the crone for wisdom to look past this foolishness.”

“Yes, my lord.” he nodded, quickly turning to the door,

“And Daeron?”

“... yes?”

“I will not hear of this again, will I?”

“No.”

“Good, I should have sealed those beasts away when they arrived.” He mumbled,

Daeron forced himself to keep moving, not stopping until he reached his own chamber, and only then, when the door was sealed, he began to let his tears fall.

Once night fell, Oldtown came alive. The moonlight market stretched for a full mile down the main street with fruits and spices from Essos and the islands in the Narrow Sea. Daeron had put on his cloak and snuck from the keep. He bought a few chocolate-covered berries and some sweet, juicy fruits, putting them in his bag as he hurried away, careful not to catch the eye of any guards. Once out of the main part of the city, he found a calm he rarely got. He reached the small barn where the two dragons lived; it was too small for them both, and they were not allowed to hunt or fly alone, which led both Tessarion and Nyrax to be smaller than Vermax, who was the same age as them. Once inside, Tessarion rushed to him, and he cradled her scaled head.

“Hello, my girl,” he cooed. “I know, I know, I missed you too.” he smiled, resting his head against her,

“You sound exhausted.” Y/n cooed from her place sitting by the hearth, tossing in hay to burn, while Nyrax lay beside her,

“When aren’t I?” he sighed as he came over and sat with her, keeping his eyes on the flames. She rested her head against his shoulder, and he happily laid his cheek against her hair.

Tessarion happily curled up with Nyrax, the two dragons as smitten as their riders.

“I’m surprised; I imagined he’d have tightened the security on you again.”

“He did, but the window serves me well.”

“It frightens me… when you do that.”

“What other choice do I have? No one takes care of him right,” she said, petting Nyrax’s tail, “The fire was out when I got here.”

“Poor things.” He cooed, “They should be with us.”

“He should allow a lot of things,” she sighed,

“I asked him again today,” he sighed. “This is the tenth time I have asked.”

“I know, I don’t think he’ll ever listen.”

“He will… one day… I have to hope. I- I can’t ever imagine marrying anyone else.”

“Neither can I, together. In some beautiful castle, with a dragonpit for them and all their little eggs.”

“With space for dragons and… little ones.”

“It does sound nice.”

“One day, soon I’m sure of it.”

“Perhaps we can speak with my mother; she might be more perceptive.”

“You want to write to her? Are you sure?”

“Actually, I thought I’d ask her in person. She sent a raven this morning, summoning me to my brother’s wedding; I figured you’d be invited too, of course.”

“Ormond said nothing of it, but of course I’d love to go.”

“Perhaps we can speak to Gwayne in the morning; he’s usually better with these things.”

“Far better.” Daeron agreed.

It was agreed that Gwayne, Ormond, Daeron and Y/n would all leave for King's Landing in order to arrive at Jacaerys and Heleana’s wedding. Ormond refused to allow Daeron and Y/n to fly on their dragons, insisting instead that the four travel in a litter together.

The litter was small, of course, with deep green velvet on the walls, and seats on either side, and a smoking incense burner hung above. Gwayne sat on one side, dressed in a fine green tunic embroidered with the green flames of the Hightower beacon, his hand softly in Y/n’s protectively. She sat beside him, wearing a deep black gown with shimmering gems. Across from them sat Ormond, in his tight velvet green, his gaze on the windows in disgust as they rode past common farms, and beside him sat Daeron, laced tight into a deep green tunic with a corseted back.

Dawn came sooner than Oscar would have liked; the sparks of bright yellow and orange began to flood his chamber as if the raging waters of the Trident had risen up to swallow him whole. He had barely slept a wink but forced himself from his bed anyway and had a hot bath in the hope it might soothe his aching head. The bathing chamber was attached to the bedroom with blue tiled walls and silver trout on all fixings; the water pressure was low given how high the water had to travel through the pipes, but it was hot when it got up here, which was all that mattered to him.

He stripped off his clothes and climbed down the steps into the steaming water, resting his head on the edge.

"Gods..." he groaned, listening to the gentle sounds of his own breath and the gentle movement of the water around him, "My head..." He cursed, rubbing his eyes, but it did nothing for the war going on inside his skull.

Once he'd cleaned up as best as he cared to, he climbed out of the bath and drained its water right out the side of the castle stone and into the Trident River. He dried off and got himself dressed for the day, nothing too grand since he just wanted to be comfortable: a rough pair of brown britches with his worn-in boots, his red tunic shirt and blue doublet, along with his sword at his up.

He trudged down the small stairwell to the main solar, the fire already roaring and the curtains opened to look out down the river. The table was set for him and him alone, so he collapsed into his chair and began rubbing his temples for relief.

"My lord," A maid spoke up,

Oscar flinched but didn't bother to meet her eyes; he already knew from her voice it was the maid he had terrified last night. "Morning."

"Good Morning, Breakfast?"

"Eggs... four, with hard yolks. Bacon, if we have any without gristle... and a few pieces of toast." He requested,

"Yes, My Lord." She nodded before she scurried away towards the kitchens,

"Lord Tully," Ser Lenton nodded as he approached the table,

"Ser Lenton," He nodded back. "How is our... guest doing in the cells?"

"Uhh..."

"Out with it, man."

"She is... silent."

"Silent?"

"Yes, my lord."

"You must be mistaken."

"I am not, my lord. I myself stood guard of her cell all night, not a sound... not a movement; she is... as a statue."

"Have you tried to ask her questions? Her name at least?"

"Yes, nothing."

"What can we discern about her then? Her skin, her hair, her eyes there must be something." He shrugged, just as the maid returned and set down his small breakfast. "Thank you," he nodded to her as she hurried away, quickly picking up his fork to begin eating,

"As I said, my lord. Nothing; she has not removed her cloak."

"She's persistent in her secrecy; I'll give her that."

"Indeed."

"Has she slept at least?"

"No, my lord."

"... Puzzling,"

"Do you wish to see her?"

"I will go and see her; I need to ask her some questions. And I'd rather do so with her safely behind bars." he nodded, finishing his food, which at least dampened the drilling in his head. He wiped his mouth and hands before he stood and rested his hand on his sword. "Come. I need a witness to anything she says."

"Yes, my lord." Ser Lenton gulped, following behind Oscar quickly.

The two headed down to the castle dungeons, most of the cells dark and empty bar a few thieves and the rats. The last cell at the very end of the corridor was where the guards stood; the iron bars kept the cell sealed with a heavy lock forged hundreds of years ago. The cell had no window since the river would flood inside, but the stone walls seeped water slowly over days with high tide or rough waves. A single stone bed sat in the corner, and there she was.

She was still covered by the black velvet cloak from head to toe, her leather gloves tight to her hands, nothing of her visible below it, not even a single curl of hair.

Oscar loomed at the bars far enough away that an arm couldn't reach him if she tried to attack, but close enough to see inside.

"Good Morning. It is long past dawn; my men say you have not slept."

But she did not answer,

"It is a punishable offence to ignore a lord when he makes a demand of you," he snapped. "State your name."

But she still did not answer,

"State your name, girl. Or be punished for your insolence."

"Melimina." Her voice came slow, controlled, without tremble or sign of fear or panic; she spoke almost coldly,

"Melimina. Unusual name." He grimmaced, "Rivers, I take it?"

"If that is the name you wish to give me."

"Under whose banner were you born?"

"I was born below no banner."

"Regardless," he cursed, "You were brought here, accused of the crimes of heresy against the seven gods."

"It is no crime to worship gods beyond your own."

"It is not. However, it is a crime to harm my people and my lands. I ask you, Melimina Rivers, do you deny the title of witch?"

"I do not deny such a title."

"Then you know the punishment that title brings. To be burned at the stake until dead, to be drowned below the Trident's waves, to be hung from a noose, or tortured before the seven gods."

"I do."

"Then I give you a moment to reconsider your answer; I offer you a chance to plead your case to me. I can be merciful if I choose to."

"There is no need. I have no case to plead."

"Explain yourself."

"I have walked these hills and riversides long enough to know my fate. If your people call for my head, there are no words I can give that will spare me. I do not call myself a witch, but I do not rebuke the title either; if it has been given to me, there is nothing else I can do."

"What do you call yourself?"

"A healer. A shred of a world long gone... a worshiper of gods abandoned by men."

"A healer? What have you done to heal those who live below my banner?"

"I have aided at the side of women as they bring children into the world. I have soothed the pains of dying men as they met their gods. I have tended to children too weak to stand. Animals and armies alike."

"And yet they call for you to burn? They have locked you away more than once for crimes. What crimes if all you say you have done is heal?"

"I have never set out to harm, but when a wound is too great a matter for me... when a child is too weak... when I am allowed to reach a mother too late... is that my doing? My fault? I have been blamed for a thousand deaths, but my hands are bloodless."

"Then why run? Why escape when you have been incarcerated?"

"Because my work is not yet done."

Oscar pondered for a moment, perhaps longer than he should have. He wanted to believe her, that all of this misfortune had not been her fault, but the risk was far too great. "Then I suggest you make your peace with whatever you have left unfinished." he turned and went to leave, but he only got a few steps away before he heard her voice.

"Do you hear them?"

He froze up and turned back to the bars. "... Hear who?"

"No... You don't, do you... It just sounds like screams to you," she said,

"... How... how do you know that?" He asked, "Leave us." he ordered,

"My lord, but-" Ser Lenton began,

"I said go." Oscar barked,

Ser Lenton bowed and slowly left, taking the other guards with him until Oscar was alone with this woman.

"No riddles. No nonsense. Tell me how you know about that."

"I heard you."

"I don't believe you."

"You won't believe anything I say." She said,

"... Am I... am I dreaming this, because of you?"

"No, that much I promise you."

"Can... can you make it stop?" he begged,

"I can soothe it, make the nightmares fade. But they are merely a symptom, not the root."

He nodded and laid his head against the bar of her cell. "I will let you live if you make it stop. For a day... a week... a year... however long it takes."

"I cannot do so from here."

"... I know." He sighed, pushing off the bars. "I will offer you a deal: I will release you, but you are not to leave this castle. You will work for me personally, and you will soothe whatever needs to be soothed. I return, I let you live, and I tell the mob after your head that you're dead."

"I will be of little use here-"

"It's the deal. Or you rot in here, or worse, the septon finds you guilty, and I am forced to execute you." He told her, "I don't want to do that... not if you can be of use."

"It is agreed."

Richie was up in his room, sitting on his bed with his back against the headboard. He’d kicked off his black vans and rolled the bottom of his light-wash blue jeans up just enough that they didn’t get dirty or caught in his bike chains, his faded white t-shirt against his chest with his pale blue button-down shirt patterned with soft feathery leaves, his huge glasses on his nose as always, and his hair a little more bouncy and fluffy from the humidity of the Derry summer day. His radio was on low, and a comic book in hand, he pondered for a moment if he found Batman or Catwoman more attractive… before happily settling that he’d take either, but both would be fantastic.

Suddenly, he heard a knock on the front door. He knew it was too late for the mailman… and too early to be any of his family. So he turned off his radio, tossed his comic on the bed, jumped off and headed downstairs, pulling open the front door. Instantly, he was taken aback by the sight before him.

It was Y/n who stood on his porch, wearing a pair of brown lace-up boots, her signature knee-high white socks with lace frills around the top, and a short-sleeved, knee-length, button-down red dress patterned with white polka dots, her hair up in a braided bun with a bright white bow. Her backpack was on her back fully loaded as always, and a wide, giddy smile on her face that Richie knew well. That was the look… the look that she had an idea…, and he was getting roped into it.

“What is it?” He sighed,

“Adventure!” She bounced,

“Where?”

“The woods!”

“Why?”

“Fun!”

“Why do you want to go into the woods, Y/n?”

“Camping.”

“Camping doesn’t sound like fun.”

“I think it does.”

“… how long for?”

“The weekend.”

“Why would I wanna spend my first weekend of summer vacation, in a tent, in the middle of the woods with you?”

“I have stuff for smores… and cute blankets.”

“Ughhhhh…”

“Please?”

“Fine.”

“Yay!”

“Let me go pack,” he sighed, turning around and heading back up to his bedroom.

Richie grabbed his duffel bag and shoved in enough outfits for twice as long as needed, just in case things went horribly wrong in many ways. He grabbed a flashlight, some snacks, a pillow and his blanket, zipping up his bag and heading downstairs, and locking the house behind him. He found Y/n by her bike, waving excitedly, as she checked her small trailer loaded with everything they’d need for the weekend camping trip. He walked down and grabbed his own bike, strapping his bag to the back.

“Where did you get this little trailer?” He asked her,

“It’s my little brothers.”

“… Doesn’t he need it for his paper route?”

“He’ll be fine,” she waved off, “You ready to go!”

“Yes, Y/n, I’m ready to head into the woods,” he chuckled as they began to bike away from the Tozier house and towards the woods, “Should we maybe stop off at someone else’s house…”

“Why?” She giggled,

“I don’t know… in case you decide to kill me and bury me in the woods… someone should know you were the last person I was seen with.”

“Nahhh,”

“That doesn’t fill me with confidence, Y/n.”

“You love and trust me!” she giggled as she peddled away.

Y/n found them a spot in the woods, close to a picturesque spot beside the barrens, surrounded by tall trees and flowers. They set up the bright green tent with one double airmattress with sleeping bags, pillows and blankets all loaded up. Their snacks and supplies were all stacked close to the door, and a small fire was set up far enough from the tent to be safe, and their bikes were chained to nearby trees. Y/n sat arranging the sticks, ready to spark the fire as soon as the temperature began to drop. While Richie finished setting the tent up, pegging down the last of the guide ropes.

“And… Done,” he said, tossing the mallet back on the grass and collapsing down on the airmattress,

“All safe and secure?” She asked,

“Yes, fully safe,” he chuckled, sitting up on his elbows, “so… now we are alone in the middle of the woods, are you gonna tell me why you decided to come on an adventure into the woods?”

“What’s wrong with an adventure?”

“Y/n. You are a hermit crab, you leave your bedroom under threat or coercion, why did you wanna come into the middle of the woods?”

“I just wanted to,”

“And why me? Why did you specifically want to come into the woods with me?” he smirked, leaning closer to her,

“'Cause you're fun,” she smiled,

“Fun? Come on, why are we out here?” He chuckled,

“I… wanted us to have some… time alone… before getting into the meat of summer time.” She cooed,

“Yeah?” He smirked, raising a brow, “Alone time? That’s what you wanted?” He asked, leaning closer to her,

“Mhm,” she smiled, leaning back towards him too,

“So, you wanted to come out into the middle of the woods, far from anyone, with no one knowing we are out here, in a cute little tent beside the water, with our own big double bed to share?”

“Yes,” she giggled, the two finally close enough that she could lay herself into his lap with her head on his chest,

Richie smugly laughed as he looked down at her and kissed her nose, “Next time, just tell me you want us to have a honeymoon,” he smirked,

“But that’s less fun,” she giggled,

“Less fun, but it gives me more time to prepare, and lets me know you're not planning to murder me.” He laughed, “And I’d have brought my condoms.”

“You’ve brought enough.”

“You don’t know that.”

“You would have brought three boxes, because you always do.”

“… I like to be prepared.”

“For us to have sex ten times a day?”

“Would you rather I not be prepared for us to have sex ten times a day?”

She rolled her eyes and gave his lips a tender kiss,

Mike had never moved so fast in his life as he walked through the busy Hawkins High corridors, his books pressed to his chest. He rushed into his English literature classroom, a good while from being late, but he was beyond eager. He sat himself down and instantly smiled, resting his elbow on the desk and his chin on his knuckles.

“Hello, sweetheart,” he cooed blissfully as he stared lovingly at Lana.

She laughed and smiled, “Hey Mike.”

“Did you miss me?”

“I saw you like… a few hours ago?”

“But did you miss me?”

“Yes, I missed you, Mike.”

“I missed you too… so so badly… I could barely exist without you.”

“I’m sure you managed.”

“I did. Just. But… I am so happy I’m close to you again.” He smiled, sliding his hand over onto her desk, “I just want to… pull you into a tight cuddle and never let you go.”

“Later,” she cooed, tapping his hand and pushing it back to his own desk.

“I will wait, impatiently.” He smirked,

Class wasn’t very interesting, just taking notes on what books and poems they would be reading this term, all the while Mike was desperate to touch her in any way he could. Often sliding his shoe across the floor to try and get her to play footsie, or walking his fingers over her desk trying to take her hand. All while he was watching the time like a hawk, knowing as soon as the class was over, he got a whole lunch break with Lana.

“Lana?” He cooed,

“Yes, Mike?” She chuckled,

“I was… thinking… maybe you might… wanna have lunch with me?”

“Sure.”

“And… maybe we could have lunch somewhere more private?”

“Private?”

“Like, not the cafeteria.”

“Like where?”

“Maybe… when the bell rings we head out to the bleachers for cuddles?”

“There are still piles of snow outside, Mike.”

“And I am sure I can warm you up if you feel too cold, baby.” He smirked, stroking his index finger over her knuckles, doing his best flirty smile.

She read him like a book and playfully rolled her eyes, “You have been so horny today.”

He blushed but didn’t deny it, “I missed you. Please, Lana?”

“Maybe.”

“Plllleeeaaaseeee?” he whined.

“Alright, since you’ve clearly missed me too much.” She smirked back, taking his hand in hers.

“Yes! I am such a lucky little nerd,” he cooed, “To have a girl as pretty and loving and… sexy as you.”

“Alright, alright, I said yes, you can turn off the smooth talk,” she chuckled.

Just as the bell rang,

So Lana stood, tossing her bag on her shoulder and offering her hand.