It was true, the Mad King was an easier enemy than this Lord Septon. The Mad King didn't wield magic, or that much coin, or that many soldiers. But above all, Lord Septon had the blind support of the smallfolk.
"What then? Will you hand him the realm?"
"No. I'd sooner die than watch that throne slip into his hands. My son will sit it. I'll see to that myself. Lord Septon doesn't hunger for the crown; he wants the realm, and the bastard already has it. I'll kneel if I have to, just long enough to strike a bargain. He protects my blood's claim, and I turn a blind eye to whatever he does. I can't fight wars on every front, Ned. The Martells are ready with that silver-haired bastard. Lord Septon will be my dragon, the one that keeps the throne standing."
"So you'll become his puppet?"
"Hah! Bah! Am I not already, Ned? I didn't choose this conquest of Essos; he did. And yet the realm sends its sons to die for him. I didn't choose to scour the Iron Islands clean, he did. Faith… is a vicious foe to face, Ned. Fighting the Mad King was simple enough, but how do you fight when every foe you meet, every arm with a sword, is a Mad King? Mad in faith?"
Disgusted? Afraid? Sad? Worried? Furious?
Eddard couldn't decide what he was feeling in that moment of silence. He simply leaned back into his chair, mind troubled. He watched Robert drink right from the pitcher. The realm was lost, the throne was lost, the crown was lost, and none knew.
No, they know.
He didn't believe that men like Tywin Lannister were foolish enough to be moved by some tricks and talk of faith. No, men like Tywin were better at judging others, and perhaps the man saw the changing tide and chose to ride it. Same for many others.
Lady Olenna became bedridden when he was at Highgarden.
When looked with suspicion and confirmation of Lord Septon's wickedness, it wasn't hard to put all the pieces in place.
Letting his head dip back, he closed his eyes.
How can I stop him? Can I?
####
Pentos,
Bronn had no idea that the King was so scared of him. Even if he did, he wouldn't give a damn. He was content with what he had, as everything was going according to his will.
And in his mansion at Pentos, the proof of it stood right before him in his private solar. Just him and the golden-haired beauty before him, draped in a luxurious royal green silk gown, neck wide and deep, a lonesome diamond necklace on her pale, long neck. Her hair was done in a lovely half-bun, with half-loose hair on the back, locks framing her temples.
"You failed?"
"I… Forgive me, Lord Septon. I… I couldn't open their hearts to the Seven."
Bronn scoffed and rose to his feet, walking around the table to face the woman he'd coveted plenty over the years. He was the one who took her maidenhead; he was the one who blessed her wedding. But he had also given her a task.
"Lynesse, I saw true from the first that you would falter. The Seven guided me to offer you a place among us for that very reason. Yet you were ever stubborn, blind to Their gentle grace. You hungered after the title of a lady… and now behold where that hunger has brought you."
Lynesse looked down, ashamed, with tear-filled eyes. "I beg you, Lord Septon. Please take me."
Oh, I will, my dear. Until the day you're too wrinkled to be fucked.
"Hmm…" Bronn felt satisfied, excited, and delighted with this. At last, he had yet another Hightower woman in his grasp. And he wanted to savor it. He started to walk around her, his one hand gently tracing her belly, waist, and back. "Explain what happened."
"I tried… I truly did, Lord Septon. First, I made Jorah swear before the Old Gods and the New that he would never lay a hand upon me unless I gave him leave. Then, I tried to sway them. Had him make me a sept in Bear Island. Jorah readily accepted the Faith of the Seven, but his sisters refused."
Finally, Bronn stopped in front of her and held her chin in a gentle pinch. He smirked and leaned down.
Bronn didn't answer with words. He simply closed the last inch between them and claimed her mouth in a kiss that was anything but gentle.
The moment their lips met, Lynesse melted against him. Her body softened, swaying forward, offering herself without a shred of resistance. Before he could deepen it, she was already pushing her tongue past his teeth, eager and shameless.
"Ummmhh…" Her tongue curled along the roof of his mouth with a needy little hum. Her moan poured into him, eyes fluttering shut.
Bronn promptly stopped kissing and stood straight. "Did Jorah do this to you?"
"N-No… I never let him, Lord Septon."
But then, Bronn walked behind her and untied the laces, loosening her green gown. Then, with a swift motion, he pushed the gown off her shoulders, letting it peel off her glossy, pale skin, and wrinkle around her hips where it was too tight to fall naturally.
"And…" he walked in front of her again, eyeing her uncovered breasts, just as he remembered, handfuls, tipped with pink nipples he'd tasted plenty.
Then his hands were on her, rough palms engulfing both breasts at once, squeezing hard enough to force the pale flesh between his fingers. He clawed them, kneading with no gentleness, thumbs dragging over the stiff peaks before he pinched them. He tugged, merciless pulls that stretched the tender buds until they ached.
"Umhh… uhhh…" Lynesse's breaths came in soft, whispering moans. Her head tipped back, lost in pain and pleasure.
He toyed with her nipples relentlessly, rolling them, twisting them, watching the color deepen to a rose-like red while she trembled and bit her lip to keep from crying out too loudly.
Only when they were swollen and glistening did he lean down. His mouth closed over one tortured peak, sucking hard. His tongue lashed the sensitive tip while his teeth grazed, just enough to make her gasp. A thick gleam of saliva covered the flushed button, letting it drip down the soft underside of her breast in shimmering trails. He kept the other nipple pinched tight between his fingers the entire time, rolling it in cruel little circles.
"Did he do any of this?"
Lynesse shook her head strongly, as if denying a deadly sin. "No! Never!"
"Is that so?"
Bronn still stared at her with eyes of disgust.
His hand slid lower, and fisted the silk of her gown. With one rough yank, he forced it past her hips; the fabric slithered down her thighs and crumpled in a heap of green at her feet. She wore only the thinnest smallclothes, white silk already darkened with her arousal.
Bronn didn't bother stripping it away. Instead, he shoved his hand inside the waistband, palm flat against her quivering belly, fingers splayed wide. Two thick digits found her warm slit instantly and sank between her succulent gates without warning.
Her cunt welcomed him with a lewd, wet squelch, walls fluttering greedily around the sudden intrusion.
"And here? Did he ever get to lay his eyes on this sacred flower? Or touch it?"
"The Seven would have damned m—Oh."
She never finished her words. Bronn's free hand clamped onto her shoulder and shoved, and she quickly dropped to her knees with a soft cry.
He stepped back a bit, lifted the heavy hem of his septon's robes, and tossed them carelessly aside. His breeches followed. Laces loosened in one impatient tug, the fabric sliding down his thighs to pool at his shoes.
His cock sprang free, veins standing proud along the shaft, the swollen head already glistening with precum and pointing straight at her wide, reverent eyes.
"Did you ever see his cock?"
This time, Lynesse didn't look up at him with confidence.
"H… He once tried to… seduce me and… I refused. But he was disrobed and…"
Bronn raised a brow and, with an almost foul mood, stepped closer and probed his cockhead on her noble, perfect lips. He shoved in, earning space, and slid in.
"Such sin! Such vile sin! Oh, the Seven won't take this well. Earn it, Lynesse. Earn their forgiveness!"
He had no intention of mercy. Both his hands clamped around her skull, fingers digging into her golden hair.
Then he began to thrust into her face like it was another cunt made for his pleasure. He drove his boneless rod to the root in one brutal thrust, until her nose buried itself in his coarse pubic hair. He held her there, grinding, letting her feel every inch and stretching her throat around his pulsing cock. This was the Seven punishing her.
"A whore! In Seven's eyes, you are a whore! Take it, let me… cleanse you! Let me… make you pure!"
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