Game of Thrones: How Davos Saved the Day
Copyright© 2019 by Fan Fiction Man
Chapter 14
Fan Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 14 - This is a fan fiction alternate version of events where Davos speaks up and sets in motion a very different future for Westeros.
Caution: This Fan Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Ma/mt Mult Blackmail Consensual Rape BiSexual Heterosexual Crime Fan Fiction High Fantasy Military War Zombies Cheating Slut Wife Wife Watching Incest Cousins Uncle Niece Aunt Nephew MaleDom FemaleDom Humiliation Rough Snuff Gang Bang Group Sex Polygamy/Polyamory Interracial Black Female White Female Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Exhibitionism First Fisting Oral Sex Pregnancy Sex Toys Public Sex Nudism Politics Revenge Royalty Violence
“You’re quite sure of this? It isn’t a joke or trick?” Daenerys Targaryen asked Missandei, as she reread the raven’s message.
“No, my Queen. Your husband is also your nephew, by blood, the sole surviving son of your eldest brother, Prince Rhaegar Targaryen, and his second, secret wife, Lyanna Stark. That would also make him slightly older than Your Grace, would it not? Older than his aunt, who happens to be his wife? Is this a problem, due to it being incest, my Queen?” Missandei asked Dany, who shook her head.
“No, that is the Targaryen way, isn’t it? And it’s still a very useful alliance for me. It’s just ... that this means that Jon Snow is the true and rightful heir to the Seven Kingdoms, and here I once dared presume to ask him to bend the knee to me! I asked that, of my own nephew, my King! Then again, I honestly thought myself the true and rightful Queen, whereas this makes a usurper out of me. The arrogance, the temerity of me! The lives that I took for a birthright that wasn’t even mine. The slaves in Meereen who perished because I left them to claim a realm that wasn’t mine after all,” Dany sat in a moment of despair and shame, feeling true guilt over burning the Tarlys for refusal to kneel to her.
“Oh, but you aren’t a usurper anymore, are you, not since you married Jon Snow? You’re his Queen, the Lady of the Seven Kingdoms by right of marriage, aren’t you? And you sincerely acted in good faith, for that which became true when you wed the King. Now, my dear Queen, you ... have the right of it once more. Just by marriage, if not by blood. Two Targaryens, one half-Stark, the other purebred, the latter barren so no danger of any deformities, am I not right?” Missandei reassured her Queen, holding her close to her bosom as she kissed the top of her head and her white-blonde, almost silver, hair.
“Yes, that is true! That is very true, but it’s not right that I should fail to atone. Cersei Lannister had to walk naked through King’s Landing to atone for what she did. I will atone as well. When I approach Hornhill in the Reach, I will go there on foot, naked, to pay my respects to those who remain of House Tarly, Lord Tarly’s wife and daughter. Lord Tyrion counseled mercy and I should have heeded his wisdom. Ready Drogon. I’m going to fly to the Reach and bypass King’s Landing at first. I will land close enough to make the walk safe enough for me.
“Then I will walk the remaining distance from my landing spot to Hornhill in the Reach. I will kneel before Lady Tarly and her daughter, and I will pay my respects to Lord Tarly and his son. That is what I must do. I have sworn to break the wheel. This is another step toward that end. Rule Dragonstone well in my absence, Missandei. I must do this. Thank you for giving me the bad news yourself. That was very brave, my sweet friend,” Dany told Missandei as she stormed out to ride her dragon and fly to the Reach immediately.
Dany found her peace for a time yet again, a solace while riding Drogon that she couldn’t find elsewhere, on the back of her largest, oldest, strongest dragon. The firstborn of her children, the children of the Mother of Dragons, that was Drogon, named in honor of her first husband, her sun and stars, Khal Drogo. This had been a lifetime in the past, or so it seemed to Dany. She was a much younger woman back then. Now the vision in the House of the Undying made sense to her at last. She walked past the Iron Throne because it was covered in snow ... as in Jon Snow, the rightful Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm. She accepted then in her vision, as she did now, that this was best.
Dany was still Queen, but through marriage to the true King, her husband and nephew, Jon Snow. Since she did so without knowing this, it would be more apparent that this wasn’t a trick that she pulled to save her claim from his better one. She knew Jon Snow well enough by now to know this was a man of honor, of principle, of decency and virtue. He had courage, resolve, and honesty in him. He would not betray his marriage vows by casting her aside. He would not throw away an alliance that could help the North, even if he might be shaken up by the news that his wife was also his aunt. It also helped her cause that she was probably barren, didn’t it? There was less danger of deformed or imbecile heirs as the fruit of their passion and their marriage. The throne could pass to someone else upon their deaths, with Daenerys still next in line to the Iron Throne after Jon.
As Dany flew near Blackwater Bay, however, she saw three figures on a small, sandy isle scarcely worthy of the name. Knowing this to be someone in need of rescue, Dany descended toward the land and realized that one of the figures there was none other than Yara Greyjoy. The Queen or Lady of the Iron Islands, depending on what Jon Snow decided, Dany reminded herself, sat atop one of the men, riding him for obvious pleasure, her pale buttocks exposed to Dany as she enjoyed the man’s favors. The other man was bound and not enjoying what he saw in the least.
“My Queen, please deliver me from this evil woman, who’s taken me hostage!” the bound man, still wearing a crown on his head, cried out to her, “I am Euron Greyjoy, King of the Iron Islands and suitor for your hand!”
Just then, Yara gasped from the other man cumming inside her twat and rose, only to knee before Dany. The other man followed her with a smile and also knelt to Dany, much to her surprise and delight. Yara hadn’t bother to cover up her bottom, but that was a small affair and didn’t worry Dany. Her larger concern was the awareness that she could not carry all three of them to safety. Besides, Yara’s buns looked rather pleasant, Dany noticed, though she forced herself to push the growing lust inside of her aside. Lately, she felt that kind of heat and desire grow inside of her body and mind. That was better than being dead inside, as she had in some ways been, wasn’t it?
All three of them looked rather gaunt for Dany’s liking, but clearly two of them had survived somehow, perhaps at the other’s expense. Euron was a ghost of his former self, thirsty as could be and much weaker since Yara and Darren had both taken to cutting him and drinking his blood to save themselves. He was a pathetic excuse for an Ironlord, but he did his best to sound and act cocky in spite of his paltry condition. He knew that he didn’t have much longer to live, but he was determined to go down fighting and brave, to earn his place in the halls of the Drowned God.
“Kneel, King of the Iron Islands. You stink of piss, sand, seawater, and worse. You wish to live take a bath and eat something, bend the knee to your Queen. Otherwise, you will not leave this island alive, I swear it,” Dany demanded as she approached him, leaving Yara and Darren behind for the moment.
“I do not kneel and we do not sow. Those are our House words. We do not sow. We pay the iron price for what we want. We are Ironborn. I am Euron Greyjoy, of House Greyjoy. I am blessed by the Drowned God, consecrated in his name, and I can be a husband and King to you, to rule at your side as you reign over the Seven Kingdoms. What say you, Khaleesi?” Euron grinned defiantly and arrogantly in spite of his weakness.
“It seems that you’re my prisoner now, Euron Greyjoy. What say you, being his niece, Yara Greyjoy? What say you, sailor, whose name I know not?” Dany scoffed at Euron’s rather perverse pride in himself.
“I’m Darren Haerd, Your Grace. I was honored to help bring Yara Greyjoy ashore, my Queen,” Darren introduced himself now.
“Well, what say you?” Dany asked them again.
“I say that you put the traitor to death. He’s a rebel who consorted with Cersei Lannister. He’ll never stop the reaving and roving and raping as I shall. Isn’t that so, Uncle? Whereas Darren here set me free, Uncle Euron here ravished me right before your attack, forcing me to receive his seed. He also murdered my father, Balon Greyjoy, his own brother. He took me against my will, while I was chained in the hull of the Silence, his flagship, and then Darren freed me, but couldn’t save my trousers. That is why I am bottomless, though I must admit that it’s grown on me, this look. What do you think, Your Grace. Does the name, Yara the Bottomless, have a nice ring to it?” Yara openly flirted with Dany now, despite her odor.
“It does have a certain charm, yes. But it would smell nicer if you did. Same with your companion over there. So, tell me, is it true? Are you a raper, Euron Greyjoy? Do you intend to keep raping, reaving, raiding, and roving through the coasts of Westeros and beyond? Did you ravage your niece’s body, taking her against her will in chains in the hull of the Silence? Tell me the truth,” Dany dared and tested him.
“Yes. But trust me, I can ravish you just as well, my Queen. Just imagine how splendid it will be, just you and me in each other’s arms, breeding new heirs for the Seven Kingdoms. What say you? Remember our house words. ‘We do not sow.’ We pay the iron price for what we want, even women’s favors. Don’t worry, niece. You can be my salt wife. I’ll even make time to bugger yon lad over there. What say you? We can conquer not only Westeros, but Essos together, even down to the Summer Islands and Asshai and Naath, once we’ve killed off the butterflies,” the naked, but emboldened Euron laughed like the pirate that he was.
“I am not here to rape and plunder, or to be queen of the ashes. I am not here to pillage, to devastate merchants’ stalls and slaughter peasants. I stopped the rapine after the sack of Lhazareen towns. I have taught the Dothraki another way and I have demanded another way from your niece. My interpreter is from the island of Naath. The commander of my Unsullied is from the Summer Islands. I have already made a pact with your niece, Yara Greyjoy, while you made one, a treasonous one, with Cersei Lannister.
“I also took a husband already, so you are out of luck, milord. His name is Jon Snow, he’s my nephew on his father’s side, he’s a Stark on his mother’s side, he was King in the North, but he’s also the rightful Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, as well as being my husband. I intend to rule by his side, you stupid, smelly, nasty, naked, raping, murdering, reaving traitor! You also wounded Viserion, which as Mother of Dragons I cannot forgive. Have you any last words before I pass sentence?” Dany thundered at Euron, now quite furious at the man.
“We do not sow. We pay the iron price. Go ahead. Send me to the halls of the Drowned God!” Euron challenged Dany now.
“Normally, I’d choose the knife for someone like you. It’s quite fitting. However, you’re also a traitor as well as a raper and I lack the means to carry you away, so you’re a dead man either way. Euron Greyjoy, of House Greyjoy, I, Daenerys Stormborn, of House Targaryen, First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Mother of Dragons, the Breaker of Chains, sentence you to die,” Dany declared as she climbed back onto Drogon, noticing that Yara and Darren still had a boat after all.
“Dracarys,” she told Drogon, at which point the mighty dragon roared and breathed out a flame that immediately set Euron Greyjoy ablaze.
“You had a boat all along, but you didn’t leave yet?” Dany asked Yara and Darren as they walked toward said boat.
“We hoped to be rescued by someone in time, maybe my brother, maybe you, but not without ensuring justice for my father and me. Euron Greyjoy had to pay with his life for what he did, even if we had to die of hunger and thirst to ensure it. Now he has, so we can leave. We couldn’t have safely taken him on board said boat without sinking it, and he didn’t deserve to go to the halls of the Drowned God. Now, he will not, despite what he thought, In the meantime, Darren suggested that we feed off of his blood, preserving our lives while weakening him,” Yara explained now, just before Dany and Drogon rose to fly away.
“Yes, well, do me a favor ... go into King’s Landing and see if you can aid my husband and his party in taking the city. You do that, and it will go a long way, along with this capture of our mutual foe, your uncle, toward letting me forgive and forget your defeat the last time you sailed against your uncle,” Dany told Yara in a parting shot.
“Alright, Darren, my friend, do this with me and I’ll make you a lord of some kind, be sure of that. Just one thing to recall. Do not ask me to wear trousers or try to make me wear them. Going bottomless brings me good luck. First, I was saved from my uncle’s clutches, and then I was rescued by our Queen. I do not wish to ignore a sign from the Gods. I’m Yara the Bottomless from here on out. People will think it strange, but on the deck of a ship or the back of a horse, who needs to cover her arse, anyway? Come on, we’ve got a city to take,” Yara urged Darren to start rowing as they hit the open waters.
“So, you never intend to wear trousers or undergarments again, m’lady?” Darren asked out of curiosity.
“Never. Which is good news for you, among others. It shall make it easier for you to fuck me, and don’t even try to tell me that the thought hadn’t occurred to you, milord. I don’t know what your holdings will be, but you’re a lord now ... if we win. I do love to be fucked, just not raped by crazed uncles who murdered my father and usurped my throne, the Salt Throne of Pyke,” Yara insisted as they kept rowing, both of them now in earnest, toward King’s Landing.
‘Some women cease to enjoy fucking when they’ve been raped, Your Grace,” Darren noted.
“Those women aren’t Ironborn. They aren’t Yara Greyjoy ... Yara the Bottomless, a name that will instill both lust and terror at once for generations to follow. Did I ever tell you that when I met him again at last, Theon didn’t know me from another woman and he stuck his right hand down my trousers while we rode toward my father’s keep? I think that if I had known then that he would betray me, I’d have cut his fingers off. He had better make it up to me, somehow, and I can think of one way at least,” Yara gestured with her fingers to indicate a tongue in her gash.
“Well, Ramsay Bolton never removed that, did he?” Darren laughed with his new Queen, having come entirely to her side by now.
“No, thankfully, he didn’t. I hope that Theon comes to enjoy tasting a little cream with his salted clam,” Yara implied something that Darren couldn’t mistake, “he cannot sire any spawn on me, after all. You can.”
As for Dany, she found herself riding Drogon far too close to the Red Keep to ignore it entirely, causing a panic down in King’s Landing as they saw the dragon fly closer now. Townsfolk hid as quickly as they could, for fear that the dragon would descend and roast them on the ground, and even Cersei found herself shaking in terror as she caught sight of it. They were all very surprised when the dragon bypassed the capital after causing a stir, but by now everyone who mattered in the city had seen it. Even Ser Jaime witnessed it, as he pulled out of Ashlyh yet again and she clung tightly to him in a genuine state of fright.
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