Pentos saw a very busy few weeks while the khalasar of Taoka Vezhof stayed in the city. While most of the horde were content to stay out of the city, the Essosi city still found itself having to house and feed hundreds. Something the city leadership were displeased with Illyrio for causing. However, the rotund man ever being a capable merchant and occasional political figure, managed to convince them of how a temporary inconvenience could serve to benefit all of Pentos. What was a single month of trouble worth compared to the favour of the next king of the Seven Kingdoms? The pretender had been at best lukewarm on expanding sea trade, even with Pentos as the closest city to King's Landing. A new king who was more aware of what Essos had to offer would be much more amenable. With Pentos being closest, and owing them more than one favour for helping him retake his throne?
Oh yes. The hardship would certainly be worth it.
So, though there was some grumbling, ships were readied at the Taoka Vezhof's request. There were not enough available to take the entire horde. Too few by far. But the Khal assured them it would be enough for their purposes.
Prince Viserys was cautious. They may call him the Beggar Prince, many may have looked upon him with pity and scorn in equal measure. But the snow-haired prince was not a fool. For both he and his sister, he had learned the truth of survival for those without power. Nothing is ever given freely. If something is offered while asking for nothing in return, it would be an unspoken favour at best, a trap at worst. He had been prepared to sacrifice his sister to retake his crown. But these savages and monsters wouldn't take her? He needed to figure out what they wanted in her stead.
"You seem tense, my prince," a familiar sibilant voice noted. He felt as the female half of the Taoka Vezhof brushed his hair out of his eyes with her clawed gauntlets.
The darkly armoured woman had been very... Touchy with him while the preparations were made for their journey across the Narrow Sea. She had regularly found ways to remain close to him. Claiming it was for his safety, or to ensure his desires were catered to, or even not even bothering with excuses, staying much closer than would be proper. He would expect as much from a Dothraki savage, a complete lack of manners. But the more he learned of her, the better an idea he would have of what their game was. The woman might have an intimidating presence but he was a Targaryen, the rightful king. He couldn't allow his caution to make him weak.
"I am considering our strategy on landing in Westeros," he answered finally.
"Oh?" the iron woman murmured in a tone that made him shiver. "And what are your thoughts? I admit I don't know much about Westeros. I defer to your greater knowledge."
That was a concern. "So you would not defer to me in other matters?"
"Well that depends," she answered in that smooth, teasing tone. "I'm sure there are many wonderful things you could learn under me."
"I am the rightful king. There is no one who would be above me."
"Hmhmhmhm!" An alluring laugh despite having just a little too much hiss to it. "I look forward to seeing if you can prove that."
That light that obscured her eyes. Whatever fel sorcery caused it, it was certainly an intimidating sight for the exiled prince. But the way she was talking... Viserys was not wholly ignorant of the ways of women. Her tone was an invitation. A promise. Illyrio had implied this might be what the so-called deity was angling for, the true purpose. That they didn't want Daenerys when they could share his throne. Viserys didn't want to jump on that conclusion but from what he had seen it looked increasingly likely.
Prove it. Prove himself.
The Targaryens of old. His line held the blood of dragons. The mightiest beasts in the world bowed low and knew Targaryens as their masters. Prove himself? A powerful creature this woman was, but he would teach her to kneel before him all the same if that was what she wanted.
They would be departing soon. Days at most. His time had finally come.
-(-)-
Fuck the Waynwoods. Fuck the Hunters. Fuck the Redforts. Fuck the Templetons. Fuck the Corbrays. Fuck the Egens. And FUCK THE ARRYNS.
Bradley had worked himself into such a fervour he stomped his way up the Stone Rise, leaving cracked indents with every step. How dare those sanctimonious blowhards judge him for allowing his family to pursue their ambitions?! So Arya was a girl, who gave a shit?! His niece wanted to be a warrior and was willing to shoulder everything that entailed. That was her choice so some stodgy old fucks and their bullshit gods could eat shit for thinking they could dictate the lives of his family!
And Lysa! Fucking Lysa! To think she and Catelyn were sisters! He liked Catelyn, she was a lovely woman but Lysa, he wanted to wring her scrawny neck! Try to tell him how to be a parent all while her boy threw a tantrum for not being allowed to dump soup over one of her bannermen! The sheer fucking audacity!
… Since when did his castle have a kennel? Walking around the wall to inspect the new structure he saw yellow eyes staring back at him.
That... Was a big dog.
"Uncle Bradley! You're home!" Turning on hearing the voice Bradley saw Arya running over with a slab of meat in a bowl. "Have you met Nymeria?! Isn't she great?!"
Nymeria? The dog then. "She's... Big."
"She's a direwolf!" the squire announced proudly. "Father found a litter of them. He gave one to each of us, my brothers, Sansa and I. Oh, and Theon. He got the runt of the litter," she added with a giggle.
He watched warily as she opened the kennel door and laid the food down, the very large wolf going to town on it the second the bowl hit the floor. "Is she dangerous?"
"Not at all!" she answered with all the certainty of a pet owner. "See? As long as no one picks a fight with her, or with me. She got a bit agitated when I was doing sparring practice once though. But not since then."
"Well... She's your responsibility," he settled on, failing to come up with an argument against something that seemed to have been settled a while ago.
"Of course! Auntie Lyanna said the same. I was thinking when she's fully grown I might try to saddle her. Wouldn't that be amazing?! A Stark riding into battle on a direwolf! Like something out of the old legends!"
While she was looking back at him, eyes shining with joy, Bradley found himself distracted. She was looking over her shoulder at him while bent over and while her clothes weren't exactly form hugging he got a very good look at the shape of her– "Speaking of, do you know where Lyanna might be right now?" It had been weeks. He was so pent up he could barely wrestle his thoughts away from throwing his niece down and slamming balls deep into her tiny body in one thrust!
"I think she's in the solar with Lor–"
"Thank you!" Bradley called over his shoulder, near running into the keep and making for his family's rooms.
Throwing the bedroom door open he saw Lyanna fucking their servant while drinking greedily from her leaking breasts. His wife's mouth came off the erect nipple with a slurping pop sound. "Bradley?"
He didn't answer verbally, just walked his armour to a corner, opened it, stepped out and fished his angrily pulsing cock out, immediately joining the pair of women on the bed and slamming his dick into his wife's waiting pussy.
Poor Lora who was on the bottom of this little pile-up was left to take the force of both of them slamming into her. She certainly didn't mind as her eyes rolled back, her expression relaxing into a dazed, open-mouthed smile.
It was not a short reunion. If either woman had anywhere to be for the rest of the day they found their plans utterly derailed by a thorough railing. Neither woman saw rest. With machine-like focus his only thought was to fuck a hole until he came, find another hole, repeat. From Lyanna's cunt, to Lora's mouth, to Lyanna's ass, to Lora's ass, to Lora's mouth, to Lyanna's mouth, to Lora's pussy. He emptied himself in every hole over and over, trying to spend himself completely. The two women were exhausted far before he was but that didn't stop him. He just picked up the collapsed Lora, wrapped a hand around her waist and used her asshole to jerk himself off like she was a toy, her fat tits flopping and spurting milk as she hung limply in his grip. In his addled state, all he saw them as were outlets. Receptacles for his seed and for his urges.
Hours later, he came to his senses, collapsed against the bed with a familiar short-haired woman sucking the cum out of him like his dick was a straw. "A-Asha?" he groaned, trying to figure out what just happened.
Her lips peeled off of his cock as she let the last jet of hot seed spurt over her face with a smile. "Evening. You feeling alright?"
"Ah..." Looking around, he saw Lora on her side laying on the carpet, plastered head to toe with his cum. On the bed behind him was Lyanna. Face down with her holes visibly gaping and leaking copious amounts of his seed. "Shit! Are they–?!"
"They're fine," Asha assured him. "Exhausted and they'll probably be bloody sore when they wake up. But fine." Having said her piece she got back to suckling on his cockhead.
"You mind helping me clean them up?" he asked hopefully. "I don't really want anyone else walking in and seeing them like this."
"Mmmmm," the sailor girl hummed, her tongue writhing along the underside. "You think you can give me another nice, big load first?"
If Bradley were being perfectly honest, he felt a little dehydrated. Probably for the first time in fifteen years. But, "Sure," he answered, putting a hand on the back of her head and forcing her down, her lips stretching wide to fit more of his meat. She liked it rough, it was fine.
Still, looking around, Bradley couldn't have been more glad that it was those two he found first. If it were Asha he might well have killed her. And Jocelyn–
… Jocelyn.
-(-)-
Ships. Ships upon ships upon ships. The bay of Pentos was brimming with ships prepped and ready to set sail for Westeros. Their cargo and people loaded, just waiting for the leaders of this armada.
"I gotta say, you for sure did us a big favour, Mopatis," the being cloaked in red, white and blue cheered, "We won't forget it!"
"Of course!" Illyrio answered with an uncomfortable, forced smile. "I look forward to hearing word of the Targaryen dynasty restored!"
"Oh yeah! We'll get 'em where they need to go!"
-(-)-
Two days. Two days of dithering over what to do about Jocelyn. Bradley wasn't too proud to admit he had been avoiding his daughter. Something he found to be easier than he thought. It seemed she was on one of her studying binges. According to Farnsworth, she had gained a sudden interest in politics, particularly the politics of sudden seismic shifts in culture due to technological innovation. Whatever could have possibly sparked such an interest? Regardless, she was staying occupied in the vault with Farnsworth making sure she ate. She could sometimes get a little too engrossed in her interests... She was so much like Bradley was at her age...
He shook off the guilty thoughts before they could drown him.
Instead of facing his daughter head on, he spent a day looking after Lyanna and Lora personally while they recovered. More hardy than most any other women they might be, but he had pushed them even beyond their limits. Even after the war he had never experienced such a rampage of desires! When Lyanna had finally awoken the next morning she had joked that denying him sex as a punishment was apparently a bad idea. They had laughed even as he apologised for pushing her so hard.
Then she had revealed an unexpected conversation she had with Jocelyn and the laughter stopped.
"Is this what we are now, Bradley? Just slaves to passions? No sense of decency, just doing what makes us feel good? I'm not innocent in that. I can't pretend I took no part in... Fine. When you go see Jocelyn... Do what you feel is right. I won't stand in her way."
She had smiled at the end, a smile that didn't reach her eyes. He felt like something had broken in her. He knew his family was a line he had never consciously intended to cross, she was likely the same. Never expected it. And with that boundary broken, they were now firmly outside the bounds of good, upstanding people.
Considering the five days he had spent in the presence of supposed upstanding people, he found himself not minding so much.
As he stood outside his daughter's vault room he took a deep breath of steadying air before hitting the buzzer.
…
Right. Studying fugue. He hit the open button and took cautious steps into the room.
"... zzzzz..." came a soft snore from Jocelyn's desk. There she was, head down and drooling on an open textbook, fast asleep. His heart melted at the sight. He could wait a little longer.
Gently picking her up out of her chair he carried her cradled in his arms to her bed. "Mmmm... Daddy," she mumbled as she nuzzled into his chest. But her dreamy words weren't a sigh of comfort, they were something altogether more lustful and caused him to stiffen with her in his arms. "Nnn..." she grunted in discomfort, eyes fluttering open. "... Daddy?" she asked, looking up at him in confusion with her big brown eyes.
"Sorry sweetie, I was going to put you to bed."
Her eyes widened, wriggling in his arms a little. "N-No, that's fine! Just... Umm, could you put me down?" Bradley lowered her legs to set her on her feet, arm still supporting her shoulders as she woke more fully. Once she was steady she hurriedly turned away from him, fixing her rumpled clothes and conspicuously wiping at her face, he assumed to deal with the trail of drool. "Ahem, h-hi Daddy!" she smiled as she turned back around.
"You haven't been pushing yourself too hard, have you?"
"Of course not!" she denied, affronted. "Farnsworth brings food sometimes and I sleep plenty!"
"I saw," Bradley agreed with amusement. "You've been working hard. How is it going?"
"It's... Really complicated," she admitted. "History is full of stupid people. Always stabbing each other in the back, trying to put down amazing inventions and ideas. I don't get it! Why can't people just let the world become better?"Gently picking her up out of her chair he carried her cradled in his arms to her bed. "Mmmm... Daddy," she mumbled as she nuzzled into his chest. But her dreamy words weren't a sigh of comfort, they were something altogether more lustful and caused him to stiffen with her in his arms. "Nnn..." she grunted in discomfort, eyes fluttering open. "... Daddy?" she asked, looking up at him in confusion with her big brown eyes.
"Sorry sweetie, I was going to put you to bed."
Her eyes widened, wriggling in his arms a little. "N-No, that's fine! Just... Umm, could you put me down?" Bradley lowered her legs to set her on her feet, arm still supporting her shoulders as she woke more fully. Once she was steady she hurriedly turned away from him, fixing her rumpled clothes and conspicuously wiping at her face, he assumed to deal with the trail of drool. "Ahem, h-hi Daddy!" she smiled as she turned back around.
"You haven't been pushing yourself too hard, have you?"
"Of course not!" she denied, affronted. "Farnsworth brings food sometimes and I sleep plenty!"
"I saw," Bradley agreed with amusement. "You've been working hard. How is it going?"
"It's... Really complicated," she admitted. "History is full of stupid people. Always stabbing each other in the back, trying to put down amazing inventions and ideas. I don't get it! Why can't people just let the world become better?"
"People are people," her father told her leading her by the shoulder over to her bed, sitting her down with an arm wrapped around her. "Protecting what's theirs will feel more important. It takes a rare kind of person who can put that aside for the sake of everyone else," he finished with a squeeze.
While she still looked downhearted, a hint of a smile crept onto her face at the praise. "I talked to Mother. To get some context for how Westeros might react? She said the Maesters might be one of the bigger obstacles."
He nodded, agreeing immediately. "That's pride. Most educated people on the continent. They'd be pretty antagonistic to someone trying to upstage them. And if a Maester says it's nonsense–"
"People will believe them without question because they're the most educated people on the continent," Jocelyn agreed with a morose nod. "That's what Mother said too." Her fingers fidgeted in her lap. "I... I talked to her about something else as well..."
"I know," he said simply, his hand rubbing up and down her upper arm.
"I–I didn't tell her about how I–!" she started to clarify before realising what he had said. "You... Already talked to her? What did she say?"
"You don't know?"
His daughter looked away. "She didn't take it very well at the time... She got angry, said she needed to think. I haven't come out of here since then."
Not just dedicated to her studying then. She was also hiding. "She said she won't stand in your way, and that I should do what I think is right."
Her head whipped around so fast she slapped herself in the face with her braids. It did nothing to diminish her beaming smile. "You mean we can–!"
"Jocelyn," he said as she pulled her into his lap, his words gentle but firm, "I'm sorry, I'm always going to be your father before anything else so I need to know this is what you really want. It's not something we can take back. If you know all the risks and all of the consequences and you still want to–"
"I do!" she insisted, hands resting on his chest, "I talked with Florence a bunch! And even if you were to get me pregnant since we're both FEV carriers there wouldn't be any issues! In fact the pregnancy would be about two months shorter than normal–" She felt his hands squeeze her waist. "... I... I want this, Daddy. I really do. And I promise I won't regret it. So... Can I take care of you, Daddy?" she asked with hope and an attempt at a sultry smile.
With utmost care and gentleness, he leaned down and captured his daughter's lips and taking her first real kiss. "... No," he said finally, rolling them over before the word could sink in, leaving her laying on her bed with him atop her. "I'm going to take care of you."
"Daddy!" Jocelyn squealed before their lips locked together once again. Her fingers fumbled trying to undo his buttons while Bradley quickly flicked her blouse buttons open with the ease of extensive practice. Next came unzipping her skirt to let it slide loose down her long, toned legs. Every garment removed revealed despite living a very sedentary lifestyle Jocelyn still possessed the body of a fitness model. FEV was certainly a wonderful thing.
Bradley's pants came off as his daughter removed her bra to show off her firm and proudly perky breasts, each a comfortable handful for Bradley's hands. Not that it was his intention to so casually grope her like that. He said he would take care of her and that was what he intended to do. Taking her lips again, he then trailed kisses down the left side of her body, his left hand caressing her other side as he went. His tongue swirled around her pink nipple as he passed, his baby girl letting out a gasp of surprise pleasure. But it was only as he peeled down her little white panties and gave her most sensitive parts a long, quivering lick did she get an idea of what she was in for. "Oh, Daddy!" she squealed, her legs jerking from the sudden stimulation. Bradley held on, pulling her down to hold her by her hips as he properly dove in to show his daughter the pleasures only a woman is afforded.
"Hnn!" Jocelyn grunted, "Ahh! S-So... Good! Daddy! Ahh!" she squealed out between panting breaths. It seemed his baby girl was particularly sensitive on top of being virginal. So sensitive she was already almost at her first peak. But he didn't want her to reach that just from this. He pulled back and got a whine of disappointment from his daughter. "Why did you... Oh." The reveal of his cock explained better than words could.
"I'm going to make love to you now, Jocelyn," he told her softly, lining himself up.
His daughter nodded shakily, a watery smile on her face. "I love you, Daddy," she whispered.
"I love you too, sweetie," he answered just as softly, before pushing forward slowly, meeting her barrier and exerting just enough force to break through.
"Nnnhn!" she grunted in pain but it did nothing to take away her smile. This was just what she wanted for so long! Her Daddy had made her a woman! Even with the raw pain of her torn hymen as her Daddy sunk as deep as he could inside her, fireworks of pleasure seemed to explode inside her! Her body rocked and jerked from head to toe! She didn't scream, didn't moan, just completely silent as her legs kicked, her hands slapped at her father's, her lover's, broad chest. And then it passed as her limbs tried to grab hold of whatever they could to draw him in deeper. She wanted more! More of that! More of his love! It felt amazing!
Their lovemaking was a tender but passionate thing. As he eased her towards every climax before pushing her through it, then slowing back down to build for the next. She was near delirious by the end. He finally picked up his pace to push himself to his own end. The steel bed frame groaning in protest against his vigorous thrusts, his daughter's tight folds constantly milking him for his seed. With a final few thrusts his cock pressed right up against her cervix and flooded her womb with his cum. Jocelyn was rocked by yet another orgasm but by that point was too exhausted to do more than buck her hips. Her sweat-soaked body fell limp beneath her father as her body gave up and she fell into slumber.
Bradley smiled softly down at her, wiping at her forehead. Even then, the simple gesture saw her lips curl up in her sleep. Rolling them over once again he settled in for sleep himself with her lain atop him. "I love you, Jocelyn," he whispered to her, "I always will. No matter what."
-(-)-
Briggs was a member of the khalasar of the great Taoka Vezhof. The mightiest Khal to ever roam the Dothraki Sea.
His name also wasn't Briggs. At least originally. But if the great Taoka Vezhof saw fit to bestow him with a new name, Briggs was not fit to question it.
But that wasn't the only thing the great Khal bestowed upon Briggs. He had been given a mission and a responsibility. He could remember it as though it were only moments ago, for it was one of the greatest moments of his life.
"Briggsy, I need you to do something for me. Before dawn of our third day at sea, I want you to stop all the ships behind yours and turn around. I want you to go back to Essos."
"But my Khal! I... I would not question your divine judgement, but I thought we were to bring war to the Westerosi for the pale ones."
"Nah, not really. They're just kind of important to some people I know so I gotta go back and deliver 'em. But you, I want you to take over for me. Lead these people. I'm giving you command."
"You... You would name me Khal in your stead?!"
"Sure, I guess. Make me proud, Briggsy!"
He would! He would make his god proud! As he watched the pre-dawn light, he nodded. "Send the signal, raise the sails and turn us around."
It was hours later that the exiled prince and princess were roused. "What?" Viserys questioned no one in particular, seeing the position of the sun relative to where they were going. "We're still going north? What are you all doing? We need to start heading west for Duskendale!"
"Brother... Where are all the other ships?" Daenerys asked quietly, worry creeping into her voice.
While Viserys' first instinct was to reprimand her for speaking out of turn, he looked about and found she was right. Their fleet had diminished overnight to a mere handful of ships. "What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded, again of no one in particular. Until his eyes alighted on the iron woman. "You! Where are all the other ships?!"
"Hmmm?" Salty hummed with amusement. "They went home. To Essos."
"What?! Then we follow and drag them back! I'm not returning to Westeros without my army!"
"Brother..." the princess said, hoping to warn him of how many of the people around them had hands on weapons.
"Your army? No, a khalasar is led by its Khal."
"Fine! Your army that you agreed to me using to take back my throne!"
"We didn't agree to anything like that," the iron woman reminded, as if speaking to a slow-witted child. "We said we would take you back to Westeros. And we are. We sail for Biteside. I'm told there are some people interested in meeting you."
Viserys' stomach dropped. He had been right. It had been a trap. They offered what he wanted more than anything, and since he thought them disconnected from the political games of Westeros he thought they would give it to him. He thought he had figured out, that they wanted power in Westeros. Everyone did! Why would the savages be any different?! But no. They hadn't just spent some time in Westeros, they had connections established enough that Targaryens were more valuable as a rabble piece than as a king. And having believed himself so close to achieving his proper status again, it was that dismissal of his worth that galled him the most. "You cannot do this! I am the rightful king! I am a dragon!"
"No," she denied walking with heavy steps into the Targaryens' proximity, casually tearing off Ser Jorah Mormont's sword arm when he tried to intervene. She paid him absolutely no mind as he screamed and crashed to the deck, blood spurting from the wound. With the now bloodied claw, she drew a line down Viserys' cheek, staining it red. "You are my prince. My pretty little prince. And you'll be learning some valuable lessons under me after all."
-(-)-
Weeks of treatments. Weeks of going into the vault for days at a time to go through procedures specifically to make her stronger. And yet...
"Why are you still stronger than me?!" Arya demanded.
Lyanna sighed. She used to enjoy these spars. Fighting was something she had enjoyed a great deal when she was younger. She had perhaps mellowed with age, she didn't quite get the same rush she used to. But there was still fun in the exertion, in showing off, in passing on lessons to the younger generation.
Then the younger generation got a bit bratty. Arya was very good. Over three years she had learned well how to fight. She was fast, excellent at picking apart weaknesses and going for the throat, figuratively and literally. But as the girl excelled at that, she found frustrations in the one aspect that couldn't be helped. Arya was small. She always would be small. And being small left her vulnerable to being overpowered. Not easily, definitely not with the kind of training the squire had gone through, butt it was a wall that she couldn't overcome.
"Because I cheated," Lyanna said simply. It was true. Arya knew enough to know the basics of how that worked. Lyanna, Lora, Cersei and Jocelyn would simply be naturally stronger than a vast majority of people.
"Then I want to cheat too," Arya insisted. "I got those stupid treatments because Florence said they'd make me strong, so no one could push me around anymore!"
"They did."
"No, they didn't! Even now I have to figure out a bloody opening! If someone tries to push me around, I want to be able to push back!"
Lyanna looked to her husband for help as he sat on the sidelines. He just raised a hand with a helpless shrug and shook his head.
Ignoring the byplay, Arya pushed on. "I want the real thing."
"I think you're a little young for children, dear," Lyanna advised, quite hypocritically.
"Not that!" the small girl denied with a tomato-red blush. "The real thing. What Bradley got."
Silence reigned.
"No."
Lyanna raised a surprised eyebrow at her husband. "What happened to doing what makes us all happy?"
"Lyanna, do you really want another me around? And I'm not talking about the part where I'm big and strong."
"That... Hm."
"Whatever it is, I can handle it! Uncle Bradley, please!"
Bradley groaned. What was it with young girls pleading with him for things? And why did he keep giving in! "Let's go talk to Florence."
-(-)-
"You will be under care for months as we ensure ze changes go smoothly."
"That's fine."
"You will go zrough simulations twelve hours a day to acclimatise to your new proportions."
"Okay."
"You will experience periods of 'ypersexuality several days a month, during your ovulation."
"I'll what what and what?"
Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose. Right. Direct explanation time. "You know how I have a lot of sex?" It was a rhetorical question, he wasn't unaware of her voyeurism habit, but her blush answered anyway. "The FEV wants to spread. So it makes me want to have sex more often so that I breed. I assume that's the same for women?" he asked, getting a nod from Florence. "So in the time of the month you're able to become pregnant, you'll want to become pregnant. A lot. Knowing that, do you still want to do this?"
"That..." Bradley hoped that hesitation meant she was going to say no. Instead, she swallowed, then set her jaw. "Yes. Just chain me to a bed and lock me in a cell or something for those days. I want this."
Bradley threw his hands up in the air.
"She 'as 'ad more chance to consider zan you did," Florence pointed out.
"Fine. Fine! You're not a child and you can make your own damn decisions. But for the record, you don't get to blame me. Got it? You went in knowing alllllll of this! No blaming me!"
"Of course not!" Arya agreed. Too easily.
Somehow he felt like it would turn out to be a lie.