85

Chapter 85: Interlude: Cole III/JessamynNotes:

Hi guys, Alice here! I know everyone has been requesting this for a while, so I've finally written a sex scene, though my prudish boyfriend took a knife to it and hacked out most of the dirty bits.

Ah well, at least he didn't axe the whole thing.

-Alice

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

"The Kingsguard has counted both heroes and monsters among their ranks. But the worst are those among us, whom play the Game of Thrones."

-Ser Bell the Beast, Lord Commander of the Kingsguard under King Rhaenyra I Targaryen

113 AC, Red Keep

Ser Criston stepped out of the Archsepton's quarters and took a deep breath of the cool winter air.

With the renewal of his vows the Lord Commander felt reborn. It felt like a great weight had been lifted off of his back, to the point where he felt like he floating through the air. His footsteps so light, that it felt like he was gliding instead of walking across the ground.

Oh a whim, the knight decided to swing by the training yard. Although he was technically off duty until the night shift, Ser Criston always believed that no moment should go to waste. Spare time should be filled with productive self-improvement or exercise.

The sound of crossing swords drew the knight out of his thoughts as he found himself standing atop the stands surrounding the arena-like training yard.

Below him, Ser Jessamyn was frowning as she probed her opponent's defences carefully. Thrust, thrust, cut, all three were blocked on the tower shield.

Bell's counterattack was smooth, the bastard sword thrusting out like a striking snake that would have taken the sole female Kingsguard in the eye had she not deftly turned the blow aside with her own sword. Ser Jessamyn moved to riposte, but was forced to backpedal in order to avoid a shield bash.

The bastard sword then came out again, thrusting out once more like a striking snake.

Ser Criston let out an impressed whistle at the sight. Bell's defence was impressive. Her counterattacks were flawless, and her stance as steady as a mountain. Ser Steffon Darklyn would have done better, of course, but not by that much.

Ser Jessamyn stepped to the right, dodging the thrust and attempting to circle the shield, but her opponent moved alongside her. Bell carefully keeping the slab of heavy wood between them. Another stab, but this time Ser Jessamyn feinted dodging right once more, but instead went left.

Darting around the outstretched sword, Ser Jessamyn brought her own bastard sword down on Bell's undefended wrist. But the Dragonseed managed to withdraw her hand quickly enough to parry the blow.

The parry was awkward though, and Ser Jessamyn used the opportunity to springboard her sword off of Bell's own, moving into a thrust that would have taken Bell in the eyeslit had she not quickly stepped backwards, whacking the blow aside with the side of her shield.

Hmm, that parry would have worked better with a mace or axe than a sword, and Bell was gripping her blade too tightly.

Rolling with Bell's strike, Ser Jessamyn spun around to the right, circling Bell's shield and bringing down the blade onto Bell's left elbow, right in the weakest part of the armour.

Bell immediately dropped her shield without any hesitation, freeing up an angle of attack for her to thrust her sword forwards viper-quick. Had Ser Jessamyn been even half a second slower, Bell's sword would have gone through her throat.

But as things happened, she wasn't, and immediately swung her sword one final time, blade raking along Bell's gorget. Had she been using a real blade, it would have slid in between the thin gap between helm and gorget and slit Bell's throat.

Obediently, Bell lowered her blade, and the two of them bowed politely to each other at the conclusion of the duel.

Ser Criston clapped politely at the duel, approaching the two ladies. He wasn't the only one, Ser Wingood also approaching with waterskins under his arm.

"A good fight, for both of you." The Lord Commander smiled.

"I still lost though." Bell grunted, pulling of her helm and gratefully accepting the waterskin.

"Don't take it too harshly." Ser Wingood laughed, slapping his stepdaughter on the back affectionately. The lower back, for the Dragonseed was nearly seven feet tall now, looming almost an entire foot over all three of them. "Your bladework has improved unbelievably over the past few years."

"Agreed." Ser Jessamyn nodded, taking a drink of her own. "I still remember that little girl whom barely knew the point from the pommel of a sword, tripping over her own feet as she tried to learn swordplay."

She nodded at Bell.

"That little girl has grown up to give me a run for my money, and I'm the best swordsman in the Kingsguard." She solemnly declared. "Take pride in that."

"I can still improve though." Bell grunted, though Ser Criston could see the underlying pride beneath.

"You can, and you will." The Lord Commander promised. "I've noticed some key takeaways from this fight. And from the looks of things, so does Ser Wingood."

"You still swing your sword around like it's an axe." The Red Keep's Master-of-Arms agreed. "You're gripping it too tightly, and that makes your parries weak."

"And you over rely on your shield." Ser Jessamyn added. "I mean no slight against Ser Darklyn, he's done well in training you, but…"

"Nine-in-ten times, our foes are lone assassins, wielding daggers and trying to catch the royals off-guard." The Lord Commander finished. "While any competent knight will always carry a sword by his hip, how many occasions would you truly be able to lug around a big tower shield to?"

"I see." Bell glumly said.

"Don't worry about it." Ser Wingood shrugged. "It's nothing we can't fix. We'll work on this for the next few weeks, shall we?"

The Dragonseed's face lit up at the prospect, and stepfather and stepdaughter began discussing the finer points of their training regiment.

"She's getting better." Ser Criston whispered to Ser Jessamyn, the two veteran knights watching fondly as the pair began heading towards the training dummies.

"Far better." Ser Jessamyn agreed. "Were we in a melee, with her fully armed with mace and shield? I'd give myself only four-in-ten odds of beating her."

"Six-in-ten for me." Ser Criston nodded, as they moved to the benches and sat down. "I too favour a mace and shield, so I know the weaknesses of the style."

"Do you remember the melee at King Viserys' coronation?"

"How could I forget? That was when we both earned these white cloaks."

"Bell today is better than you were back then." Ser Jessamyn noted. "Give her another decade— No, five years— and she'll have surpassed us both."

———

One would think that now that Ser Criston had finally lost his virginity, the rest of his subordinates would stop pestering him about sex. Alas, one would be mistaken.

The rest of the White Knights seemed determined to make Criston 'Do the Eight', whatever that meant, and were constantly inviting him to join them in brothel-crawling on the Street of Silk.

And if that weren't bad enough, the number of invitations for casual sex by the female castle staff had tripled. It was not making his reaffirmed desire to obey his vows any easier.

Of course, Ser Criston was used to politely turning down the occasional washerwoman. He was after all, a rather handsome and dashing knight. Such attraction came with the job. But this was a completely different beast.

Now the ladies came in droves, constantly refusing to take no for an answer, up to and including hiding naked under the sheets in his quarters at night.

He'd confronted his brotherhood, of course, but they all denied instigating the lusty female horde into attempting to seduce him. A rather flimsy denial, given their track record, but for once Ser Criston was inclined to believe that they weren't lying. They seemed as genuinely surprised as he did.

The Lord Commander wasn't fool enough to think that there were no witnesses of his drunken affair in the stables with that Nordosi girl, but by and large they'd managed to keep the word from spreading.

The Redfort siblings had proven surprisingly tactful that night, and had surreptitiously redirected foot traffic away from the stables while he was fornicating. Bell was bodyguarding Rhaenyra on the other side of the castle, and most of the other Dragonseeds were either distracted or passed out drunk.

Their best guess was that the girl he'd slept with had told her friends about their affair, and the gossip had somehow jumped the language barrier and spread to the Targaryen staff, and from there returned back across the Sunset Sea with them.

Regardless of the specifics, the truth was that Lord Commander Cole was completely unsurprised to find yet another woman in his quarters.

A black-haired wench, around twenty. She was dressed, Ser Criston was relieved to see. Half the women whom tried to seduce him were already naked when he entered the room. In fact, this woman was more well-dressed than the usual servant girls and washerwomen whom snuck in, wearing a long flowing dress of black silk that complemented her hair.

A lady in court, mayhaps? Regardless, Ser Criston was tired from his especially stressful and draining day, and had no patience for any shenanigans. Especially since he had night watch in just a few hours. If he didn't get enough sleep now, he'd be nodding off for half the night, coffee or no coffee.

"Out, now." He ordered sternly, jerking his thumb over the shoulder.

"Now, now, don't be like that Ser. I can show you things you can't even dream of." The woman purred, sauntering over to him, hips swishing.

"I'm not interested." Criston got out between ground teeth. "Leave now, before I am forced to throw you out myself."

"Ooh, you're tense." She whispered teasingly, picking up a goblet from the table beside the door. "How about some wine first, to get this night started?"

She then took a drink, draining half of the cup before offering it to him.

"Like I've said, I'm not interest—"

Ser Criston was cut off from speaking when the woman's lips met his. He suddenly went still, as through he'd turned to stone, unable to move even an inch. Her tongue forced it's way in, pushing the wine from her mouth into his mouth. It tasted strange, foul. Like rotting meat or ink, but then he was forced to swallow the liquid, and it came to life in his stomach, blooming into beautiful flowers of taste and flavour. He tasted honey, spices, red meat and more. Countless flavour which he could not even put a name to.

He blinked, shaking himself out of a daze he didn't realise he slipped into.

The woman was gone, the only sign that she had been there the empty goblet that he now held.

Before Ser Criston could decide what his next course of action would be, there was a knock on his door.

"Rise and shine!" Ser Jessamyn shouted through the door. "It's time for the night shift!"

———

Whatever the truth of that strange encounter, the drink he had been fed was most invigorating. Moreso even than coffee. Ser Criston was wide awake and alert, like he'd gotten a full night's sleep in that few hours he'd missed, blanked out in a fugue as he was.

He and Ser Gwayne were patrolling the halls of Maegor's Holdfast as usual, when he heard an unusual cry.

A woman's voice, moaning in pleasure.

"You hear that?" Ser Criston asked.

"Hear what?" Ser Gwayne asked back, frowning in confusion.

The voice returned, louder and more breathless than before.

"That. Not your sister, is it?" The Lord Commander asked.

There was a long beat as Ser Gwayne stared uncomprehendingly at Ser Criston, before finally speaking.

"Ser, I think it's best you take a quick nap. You're clearly very tired, and hearing things." The Hightower knight slowly said.

"You can't hear her?"

"No, it's been a quiet night as usual… Apart from the King's snores, of course."

Could he really not hear the woman? Her increasingly loud moans of pleasure?

Ser Criston shook his head, deciding that further insistence wouldn't get him anywhere.

"Mayhaps you're right." He conceded. "I'll go get some sleep."

He didn't wait for an answer, leaving the other white knight behind and following the sound of the furious lovemaking.

It could not have been Alicent. The Queen was silent in bed, and hardly passionate even when bedding the King. She went to her husband's bedchamber like a man wading into battle.

But there was one other woman in this castle…

Footsteps quickening, Ser Criston hastened down the hallways of Maegor's holdfast, heart pounding in his chest as he slowly and inexorably approached the bedroom of the Crown Prince, the woman's voice growing ever louder and clearer.

He rounded a corner, and saw the two guardsmen outside Rhaenyra's door. Both were alert, which was good to see, but neither of them seemed to notice the sounds of furious lovemaking behind the door they stood guard outside of. Like Ser Gwayne, it was as though they were deaf and blind, not noticing anything out of the ordinary.

"You two, go for a quick break." Ser Criston ordered the two guards. "I'll stand watch for the next ten minutes."

"Aye, thanks Ser." The older of the two nodded, and the two men vacated the scene.

Ser Criston waited for them both to round the corner, before he knelt, and put his eye to the keyhole of Rhaenyra's door.

———

Jessamyn let out a loud scream as she climaxed, letting out a little moan as Rhaenyra's fingers left her weeping snatch. She fell back onto the soft pillows, panting from the exertion.

The sole woman in the Kingsguard rolled onto her back, feeling Rhaenyra lie atop her, their lips meeting in an ardent kiss that only ended when they both needed to break for air.

"That was fun." Laena laughed, as she leaned over, cupping Rhaenyra's breasts from behind as she captured the Prince's lips. Like Jessamyn, the Velaryon scion was as naked as the day she was born, sweaty and spent, the marks of their love hardly visible on her dark skin.

"Threesomes are always fun." Rhaenyra agreed, turning around and flipping Laena over, such that now the older girl was pinned beneath her."Especially with two beautiful women."

Moans of pleasure soon began filling the bedchamber as Rhaenyra's deft fingers began their most enjoyable work in between Laena's legs.

"So, how long have the two of you been doing this?" Jessamyn lazily asked, as Laena squirmed and bucked beside her.

"Since the day I turned sixteen." Rhaenyra replied, leaving a trail of kisses down Laena's body as she slowly descended towards the dark-skinned girl's sex.

"Rhae… Rhae is a bit of a— Oh yes, right there!— prude." Laena breathlessly got out between moans. "She didn't let me— Yes, yes, yes!— touch her until she came of age."

Laena's voice then went exceptionally high as she climaxed, back arching in pleasure.

"Up for round seven?" Rhaenyra asked, as she emerged from between Laena's legs.

"No thanks. Six climaxes was enough for me." Jessamyn declined. "I want to actually be able to walk during my patrol later."

"Your loss." Rhaenyra carelessly shrugged as she positioned herself such that her snatch was kissing Laena's own, before moving herself back and forth.

"Oh no, no! I just came, no, stop!" Laena frantically protested, but to no avail, rapidly descending into incoherent moans of pleasure.

Jessamyn rolled to one side, leaning on an elbow.

"You know, I still can't help but feel scared. Laena is so loud. I keep thinking that she'll wake half the castle." Jessamyn mused.

"No problem about that." Rhaenyra got out, biting her lip to keep herself from moaning. "My room has privacy wards. Nobody can hear or see us."

The Crown Prince paused contemplatively.

"Well, I suppose Rhaegar or Daenys, or a sorcerer of their level, could crack my wards, but that's kind of an edge case." Rhaenyra mused as Laena let out another scream of pleasure, louder than all others before it.

Rhaenyra herself came a heartbeat later, clapping a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound of her climaxing.

"And speaking of the Dragonseeds…"

"I know." Rhaenyra grimaced, flopping onto her back in between the two women. "I owe Viserra a pay raise. She really went above and beyond the call of duty today."

"Yeah… I feel the need to apologise, on behalf of Ser Criston." Ser Jessamyn sighed. "That was out of line. Way out of line."

"I always knew he pined after me." Rhaenyra groaned, burying her face in Laena's breasts. "And I was willing to leave that at that, but…"

There was a beat as they all grimaced in unison.

"But at least Viserra managed to let him down gently." Laena spoke up, stroking her lover's hair.

"Uh huh." Rhaenyra agreed, turning back around. "She did a better job that I ever could have. Far better."

"Oh. How so?" Jessamyn asked.

"I'm nowhere nearby as tactful as she was. Forget letting him down gently, I'd have taken a butcher's knife to his mind and hacked out all of the problematic bits." There was a pause as Rhaenyra frowned at the ceiling. "I still might, actually. Better safe than sorry."

There was a commiserating murmur through the room as they contemplated the prospect of having to essentially lobotomise the Lord Commander. It was not a pretty image.

"But on the bright side, at least we now know that with the right makeup and glamours, Viserra can successfully fool people into thinking that she's you." Laena said, with a forced cheer. "If even Ser Criston couldn't tell the difference, nobody can."

"True enough, I guess." Rhaenyra allowed, snuggling closer to Laena. "Her acting skills are nothing short of impressive."

They left it at that, the three women cuddling closer, enjoying the afterglow from sex.

"So is this a one-time thing? Or am I welcome into your bed?" Jessamyn asked.

"Feel free to join in whenever you want." Laena shrugged. "Neither of us are exclusive. It's an open relationship."

"Even after marriage?"

"I am as interested in men as Laenor is interested in women." Rhaenyra carelessly replied, stretching languidly. "Our marriage is really just for show. We won't bother each other on whom we take into our beds."

———

Atop the tallest tower of Maegor's Holdfast, high above the rest of the castle, Ser Criston let out a great roar of rage and betrayal at the swirling sky. The beast in his heart roared alongside him, screaming wroth into the heavens.

Ser Criston didn't remember much of what happened next, but before he knew it, Ser Criston found himself back in his own chambers. The black-haired woman was back, alongside a familiar face.

"Ah, so you've finally seen the truth about Rhaenyra." Larys Strong, heir to Harrenhal and Overseer of the Royal Bank smirked.

The man was an enigma in court. A limping man with clubfoot, he often spoke softly and gently, but somehow nobody in a room could fail to hear his words. While some denigrated the man as a craven and cripple, the man had risen high in the court.

With the establishment of the Royal Bank in Harrenhal, it was deemed prudent that somebody be put in charge of the place, to keep the Lyseni in line. The problem then, was who would perform such an important duty.

Master of Laws Lyonel Strong favoured his then second son Larys, believing that the role should be hereditary, much like how House Tyrell were hereditary stewards under House Gardener. Arguing that as the Royal Bank was established in Harrenhal, as the Lord of the castle, he had jurisdiction.

Meanwhile Master of Coin Lyman Beesbury favoured his deputy Isembard Arryn, citing Isembard's incredible competence in financial matters. The man was one of the richest men in the Vale, from his skilled investments into trade and commerce, and was the ideal candidate to oversee the Royal Bank. 

Rhaenyra herself had been backing Isembard, citing that as a financial matter, the appointment fell under Lord Beesbury's purview. But this was tempered by Viserys favouring Larys, due to Alicent whispering in his ears.

However, in the end, Daena accidentally incinerated most of House Strong, forcing Rhaenyra to concede greatly to Lord Lyonel in exchange for clemency for the eldest Dragonseed.

So Larys Strong got the job. And although not a particularly talented banker, none of the Lyseni stepped even a single inch out of line ever since his appointment. The man had a strange knack for wrangling the coin-counters and keeping them obedient and well-behaved.

Tellingly, the man unnerved Mysaria, which was a glaring warning sign. The Mistress of Whispers always seemed unflappable.

"I made him drink the Shade." The woman tittered. "It ripped the scales off of his eyes."

"Who are you? I thought that the Greens were under truce." Ser Criston warily asked.

"My name is Alys Rivers, firstborn child of Lord Lyonel Strong." The enchantress smiled, lips a thin slice of crimson. "And we are not Greens."

"House Strong will only ever serve our own interests." Larys declared, leaning back on his chair. "Blacks or Greens, it doesn't matter, so long as our power can rise ever further."

"And why have you revealed yourselves to me?" The Lord Commander demanded, hand on his sword.

"We offer you your heart's desire."

"Rhaenyra has no interest in men, much less me." Ser Criston curtly interrupted Alys Rivers, but she merely tittered at his words.

"Ah, but magic can make it so." The sorceress smiled.

"Rhaenyra's the best sorcerer on the continent."

"A good war-mage, yes." Alys Rivers agreed without missing a beat. "But Rhaenyra's powers trend more towards… brute force. She's no true witch. Merely a Maester whom can throw magic at her problems."

"I don't understand."

"Think of magic as a dagger. And in this analogy, Rhaenyra is the finest knife-fighter on the training yard." Larys Strong susurrated. "A threat, to be certain, but she has no idea that a knife can also be used for cooking or carving."

"So, what you're saying is that although Rhaenyra can level entire city blocks with magic…"

"She's not very skilled when it comes to mental manipulations. The subtler side of magic." Alys Rivers giggled. "It's why she keeps Rhaegar, Daenys and to a lesser extent Shaera around."

"But you are."

"Scratch our backs, and we'll scratch yours." Larys Strong grinned, revealing crooked yellow teeth. "If you do us one small favour, we will make Rhaenyra yours."

Rhaenyra his?

For one glorious moment, Criston Cole pictured Rhaenyra looking at him with the same love and adoration she did Laena in bed. Those beautiful crimson lips, kissing him in all sorts of naughty places. Her alabaster skin and voluptuous body, wrapped around his own naked form.

Sometimes, some choices weren't even a choice at all.

"Name your price."

Notes:

You know, I was rather surprised that nobody thought of Viserra in the last chapter, despite my wink and nudge.

-Lucky

Edit: Also, we'll be taking a quick break for Christmas and the New Year. Yuuki, Pamela and Alice are all landing in Singapore tomorrow, so suffice to say that I'm gonna be way too busy to write. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!