A Comment on Age

All characters in this story are 18 years or older, despite their ages in the original fiction.

Arianne went walking through one of the many corridors that made up Storms’ End. The old and storied place was massive and solid, sturdy enough to withstand an assault from the gods if these tales were all true. She had little space left for old stories with her mind focused on her more concerning problem. She was here trying to court Aegon, only for another rival to show up with the same idea. It certainly wasn’t the first time she’d come at odds with another woman over a man before, but she hoped it would end better than the previous ones.

Arianne was still a flat-chested freckled girl when she had gotten into her first fight. It was over a boy, of course. He was a common stable boy, despite what some people would have thought of her and her standing. It happened in a mud pit in front of dozens of drunken strangers. In retrospect, Arianne would admit that was all needlessly risky. She could have been abducted or raped, even if she avoided being torn apart in her informal duel for the boy. Worse, they could have recognized her as the princess of Dorne. At the moment however, Arianne was too caught up with the prospect of proving her love to care or think about little else.

She could hardly remember the name of the other girl, but she remembered her looks vividly. Her skin was just a few shades darker than Arianne’s while her hair was deeply black. Her eyes were a muddied shade of blue like an puddle on cobblestones, but they burned with hatred for her. She saw the young woman’s fuller breasts quiver slightly as she stripped off her cheap dress, a few years older than Arianne and so having more time to develop.

Arianne still didn’t hesitate to take off her own dress. It was of lower quality as well, helping her blend in with the commoners when she felt like exploring the world outside of her castle. Even when trying to pass as a peasant girl, Arianne was one to take what she wanted. It so happened that right now, she wanted the same stable boy as this naked barmaid, even if that meant fighting for him. Back then, she was sure that the boy would be the love of her life.

While neither was especially good with their fists, they were both terribly vicious. The barmaid charged her with her claws bared and ready to tear into Arianne’s face. The princess charged in and tackled the older girl, bringing them both down to the mud with a loud and wet thud that was drown out by the cheering drunks. The barmaid screamed in a wild frenzy, kicking her legs like a startled mare to try throwing her off. Arianne landed several slow but heavy punches to her opponent’s face before the downed serving girl grabbed her by the breasts and sank her nails into the yielding flesh. Arianne screamed in surprise as she was thrown back off, landing directly in the mud this time.

The older girl got to her feet dizzy but unrelenting. She threw a kick into Arianne’s stomach, but the mud slowed and dulled the blow. It cost her balance more than it harmed Arianne who lashed her claws across the young woman’s cunt, startling her with the sharp pains and bringing her down once again. The cheers reached a new peak as Arianne pounced onto the fallen girl’s back, keeping her pinned and ripping away at her hair. The startled girl’s screams could still be heard clearly in Arianne’s mind, but in a way that excited her rather than haunted.

She remembered some of the raised mugs spraying a beer broth along her back before the other girl flung herself backward. Arianne’s head rang as it hit one of the walls of the pit, stuck there long enough for the stranger to charge after her in her pained fury. Their bodies collided chest to chest, but the taller girl made a point to keep their hips apart. Arianne quickly learned it was intentional since she sent her hooked fingers into the (unknown to her) princess’ pussy and started to gouge at the warm and tender flesh.

Arianne remembered screaming, but she reacted quickly. She met the girl move for move without hesitation, shoving her nails inside her twat and clenching her fingers in a greedy grabbing gesture. The other woman howled along with her as the crowd loudly appreciated the dirty fighting. It was left as an awful, screaming stalemate until Arianne added to her attack with a punch in the mouth. The barmaid staggered and lost her grip. It was only for a moment, but it was all the time that Arianne needed.

She grabbed the lower class girl by the leg and pulled it to one side. It wasn’t the most graceful of takedowns, but the mud and their inexperience let it work all the same. The barmaid landed on her side as Arianne help onto the leg and finally disengaged her crotch claw. The serving girl kicked at her clumsily with her free leg while trying to free the other, but Arianne had already drawn back her fist. The spread legs made a perfect target that Arianne exploited with sadistic glee as she punched her over and over in the pussy.

The woman writhed and howled, something that would be forever embedded into Arianne’s concept of sexuality. The thrill of her going out undercover and falling for this boy just to find herself immediately (and literally) fighting for him was such an intense and elaborate sensation that it was hard to seperate what was pain and what was pleasure.

The barmaid’s flailing leg swung upward, catching Arianne in the chin and knocking her silly. The ruckus rolled like thunder as they split between cheers and disappointed curses or catcalls at the turn of the tide. Ignoring the layers of mud on their bodies, the older woman grabbed the dazed Arianne’s leg and bit into her foot. The muck did little to dull the pain as the princess screamed and spasmed, feeling the barmaid’s nails dig into her thighs. She dragged herself closer, still baring her teeth like a savage she-beast. Her jaws opened wide and Arianne saw the obvious intent to simply bite into her pussy and tear it to shreds with her filthy mouth.

Arianne reacted with another surge of empowering panic. She sat up far enough to grab the barmaid by the face and scratch her nails over her face and eyes. The stranger screamed and shook her head, enough to take her off the course of her attack. She still twisted her head enough to bite into Arianne’s finger, more by chance than anything. It still made them both recoil and scramble to their feet, mud and scratches painted across their skin. They spared only a second to take a refreshing breath, but it seemed to drag on to Arianne. Plenty of time to look over the pretty rival and see the damage she had done to her beauty. She was momentarily proud before she hurled herself at the other woman.

They grabbed and clawed wildly until the barmaid landed a lucky punch, tagging Arianne in the nose and dropping her back into the mud. She was disoriented by the strange numbness mixed with pain, allowing the older girl to stomp and kick at her upper body. Arianna dragged herself a couple feet away, just to turn and swing her foot straight upward. It landed right as she’d hoped, burying her toes in between the barmaid’s legs. The violent stranger’s face became a mask of agony as Arianne pulled her foot back out, leaving the barmaid paralyzed in pain. Arianne kicked her in the chest and sent her flopping against the wall of the pit, letting her lean against it until the princess rose and hurled herself into the stunned woman. The barmaid was briefly flattened against the wall before Arianne twisted her head by a handful of hair, grinding her face into the wood while the princess set her nails to work between her legs.

The barmaid screamed and thrashed, but Arianne had her trapped. She hooked her fingers and scraped away inside the crudely pinned woman. The barmaid clawed and kicked blindly back at her, but she could only leave superficial scratches from that angle. Arianne was still able to dig her fingers deep inside her pussy and gouge for all she was worth. The nude princess’ nails found purchase on the soft flesh and tore out anything she could. Her opponent’s cries grew more warped and deep as blood started to run down her thighs. Arianne was sporting her own bleeding cuts and swelling bruises, and the long battle had been intensely draining. She held on tight as she kept tearing up the peasant girl from the inside out, ignoring her sobs of agony. 

Arianne was too obsessed with her dealing her damage to spot the incoming kick. The hard heel of the bigger girl spiked right into her naked groin on the backswing, dropping the princess to her knees in the mud. Tears welled in her eyes as she screamed, but she had lost her grip on the barmaid. She turned around and kneed Arianne in the nose, knocking her flat on her back with blood pouring down her face. 

“I’ll kill you, you hideous little rat!” The woman’s words were so loud and clear, even among the roar of the crowd. She mounted Arianne and buried her nails into her throat, immediately cutting off her breath. The other hand punched around her ribs and breast, leaving her trapped for more punishment beneath the bigger girl. The throbbing pain in her crotch had Arianne too stunned to react in any helpful way, grunting and drooling as she jerked around in the mud. The barmaid moved higher up on her body, pinning Arianne’s arms down beneath her knees. There was a moment where she looked up past the stranger’s pubic hair and breasts to see her bloodthirsty expression. She briefly thought she was going to die here; away from her family and castle where they’d take ages to find out that the beaten body was her.

Then she remembered the same tooth-baring snarl on the stranger’s face from before. It gave her one last idea as she twisted her head and bit into the barmaid’s plump thigh until she tasted blood running past her cheek. The barmaid screamed and rolled off to one side, grabbing the wound that bled freely from being so close to a artery. It was all Arianne needed to shove the older girl off and mount her, raining punches on her face until her knuckles bled. The frenzied attack was enough to leave the girl unconscious and bleeding, but Arianne kept attacking until one of the burly men managing the pit pulled her back off. She swung and kicked at her some more while she was dragged off, but there was a triumphant sneer on her damaged face. She was quickly consumed by exhaustion, so fucking her newfound crush was out of the question. If nothing else, the extensive bruising and damages would keep anyone from possibly figuring out who she was.

She had bragged to the sand snakes about the fight at any opportunity, speaking of the scandalous affair as if it were a badge of honour. It was only by Doran’s express command that she stopped telling that story to anyone, and it was probably also by his action that the tale never spread. As Arianne walked through Storms’ End, she fully recognized the recklessness of her actions. On top of the risk to her reputation, the damage to her pussy could have left her infertile if not for the private help from her Maester. She didn’t know until much later that the woman she had faced ended up becoming sterile herself. It was a grim reminder of what she had risked, making it clear that the entire idea had been foolish and risky. She was not that little girl in the mud pit anymore, or so at least she hoped.

Thinking about the past brought Arianne’s mind to Quentyn. She was never close to her brother, with Quentyn being sent to another house at a young age to settle a dispute, but he was always his father’s favourite son. She hadn’t seen him in some time, and there were rumors about his death, most of them tied to Daenerys and her three dragons. She often thought and worried for him, and more importantly, what would the news of his death, if true, do to her father’s already frail health. It made her anxious, so she brought her attention back to the present. That meant Aegon, and with that problem went Sansa. 

She had been in Storm’s End for weeks and had made no progress in seducing Aegon. She had pulled every trick in the book short of stealing in his bed, but if she did that, she is lost. There was the old saying that seducing a Highborn was like fishing. You needed appealing bait, and once they had spotted it, you needed to draw them in carefully. You wanted to snatch them before they got away, but they could be skittish if you acted too quickly. The nobles wanted a bride rather than a whore, as ego and power suited them more then aggressive sexuality (though why not have both?).

These weeks should have been enough. Arianne had played the vulnerable maiden, the charming princess, and the mischievous little girl; she had laughed at his jokes and listened to his tales with intense interest (some of it was even real); she had charmed and taunted; she had teased him with as much touch as she dared, but Arianne had forgotten to factor in a second fishermen. Sansa Stark had arrived on the same day as Arianne and Aegon had become their unspoken battleground. Things were always tense when the women were in the same room together, constantly gauging each other’s moves and guessing their plans like a pair of seasoned duelists awaiting a risky and exposing thrust. Just two days ago, Arianne was having a beautiful night beneath a serene and moonlit sky. She had stolen Aegon for the night by having the septon hold an evening prayer for the victims of the war. Being the proper lady that she is, the Stark girl had no choice but to attend, leaving Aegon all to herself. She had just finished telling Aegon about some childhood story of hers and invited him to feel her heart (he definitely knew what to feel judging by where he placed his hand). The moon was silently watching over them, bringing all the colors in Arianne’s eyes to life. All she needed was a few more seconds to capture Aegon with those eyes, but the castle steward, a fat man in his mid fifties who owed his position to littlefinger, suddenly barged in and took Aegon away to discuss a grain shipment, grain! Aegon was enjoying the attention, but in too vague of a sense. He didn’t have to lift a finger to have the ladies competing for his attention. Perhaps he was holding out in hopes of getting both. 

At this rate, Arianne had even begun to respect Sansa. The fact that neither had come out with any distinct lead in their race for Aegon left her even more impressed than if she had beaten her. They were balancing some unseen scale, applying the exact same pressure with their courtly seduction. Neither would dare to admit it, but whenever a particularly clever or charming remark came up, they would acknowledge the other with a begrudging and only moderately annoyed smirk.

Arianne considered fighting her like she had with the other girls. However, she was more mature than the girl clawing her way through the mud. The Stark girl survived Joffrey and the Boltons. If half of the rumours they heard about Joffrey is true (and a quarter of the rumours they heard about the Boltons), the girl is no stranger to pain. She knew it would likely end poorly for the both of them. The fact of the matter was that Arianne enjoyed Aegon’s company and would be fairly happy married to him for his looks and power, but she could reasonable say she didn’t love him. At least, not enough to godying for. Despite the innocent little girl she plays, the Stark girl was no soft little lady yielding at the first drop of blood and neither is Arianne. Leaving both women uglied up from a fight would ruin it for either woman. It left an explicit catfight out of the question, but there were other ways to compete with a woman… 

Her second time was less dangerous but just as intense to her. It was a year later and over a man again, though this time it was for a young knight that they had both fallen for. With her interest in fighting as muddled with her sex life as it was, she was rather excited when the sand snake offered a sex fight to resolve their conflict.  Tyene had been her name, and she had been the one to introduce her to the concept. The concept was simple but fascinating; to make the other girl cum until she passed out or surrendered. They gathered in one of the unused guest bedrooms of the castle to settle their dispute, keeping hidden away from probing maids or guards.

They stripped down right away, Arianne fascinated by the other blonde-haired young woman’s naked body. She tried to deny that lust and focus on drawing the same out of her opponent. They both shifted their posture subtly, trying to watch the other’s eyes went to judge what it was that turned them on. After a lot of staring, it eventually occurred to them that things wouldn’t go anywhere without actually making contact. Arianne acted first, taking Tyene by the hips and pulling her into a tight embrace. They locked lips quickly, kissing like passionate lovers but with an edge of probing aggression. Their hands roamed over their bodies, testing for what drew the loudest moans or weakest purrs from the other woman.

“You’ve barely laid hands on a woman,” Tyene taunted when their lips finally parted. “And it shows.”

“More than you’d know,” Arianne defied her. She took Tyene by the hands and bumped her hips forward. Their bodies shuddered as the clash of their pussies, but it was enough to send Tyene falling over backward into the bed. “So boasting about how much of a slut you are certainly won’t win you any prizes.”

The sand snake hissed in a mix of spite and pleasure as Arianne literally went for the throat. She kissed and sucked at Tyene’s neck, forcing a deep sigh out of the pinned brunette. Tyene managed to raise one of her legs, bracing it against the base of the mattress and pushing off to roll them over. She spread her legs to straddle Arianne’s hips, mounting her as she ground her hips seductively on top of hers. Arianne loved how her breasts danced with each thrust, adding a visual appeal on top of the physical arousal.

“You think that boy wants a helpless virgin?” Tyene taunted her with a confident grin. She could feel Arianne growing wet against her thrusts, mixing their sexual juices together. “Leave him to me and he’ll have a much better time.”

Arianne mustered the strength to reach out and grab Tyene by her breasts, squeezing roughly between her strong fingers. The sand snake groaned in begrudging approval, but that peaked in a shrill gasp when Arianne pinched her nipples. The princess used them as erotic handles to throw Tyene to one side, not bothering to pin her as she zeroed her face onto her chest. Arianna started to suck loudly on her nipple, getting a passionate cry from Tyene. It was only on reflecting that she could appreciate that no one had heard such a racket.

The sand snake wrapped her legs around Arianne’s waist in an attempt to throw her off again, but the princess braced herself firmly enough that she would not be budged. Her hand grabbed Tyene’s unoccupied breast to stimulate her further, feeling how the pinned woman’s breathing made her body pulse against her. She leaned harder into her position, lightly scraping her teeth along the tender skin of Tyene’s breast and nipple. Her focus on her oral attack let Tyene slip past her guard, reaching between her legs and slip a finger deep into her unexpecting pussy.

Arianne froze, gasping as her lips parted and released Tyene’s nipple. “Looks like no time for foreplay,” her bastard cousin panted. She pushed on Arianne’s shoulder while keeping her arching grip tight on the princess’ pussy, rolling with her to end up on their sides. She went on fingering Arianne rapidly while the princess hurried to reach for her attacker’s privates. Tyene had her head start that was causing her fingers to cause a distinctly wet sucking sound between Arianne’s legs. The princess fought to catch up by thrusting twice as many fingers into her rival and pushing them in twice as hard.

Both of them stared wide-eyed at each other. They were too dedicated to their attacks to stop, and the arousal made it too difficult to defend themselves with their lust-addled senses. It became an outright race as one hand grabbed their rival’s breast. Tyene’s one finger probed and spiraled inside Arianne in a way she had never experienced while the princess’ sexual attacks were more full of passion and fire.

“You’re too weak for him,” Tyene hissed at her. She may have used the knight’s actual name, but truthfully, Arianne couldn’t remember what it was anymore. It was still a petty fight, but Arianne had to admit that she had grown in the year between this and her first fight. The mud pit was a violent brawl in front of a drunken crowd while this was private and sensual. They were risking far less (both in body and reputation) and still proving themselves in their own way.

“You’re nothing to him,” Arianne snapped back. “Your will lose here and lose him forever!” She was being dramatic of course, but she was also on the edge of the most intense orgasm of her life so far. The competition and rough sex had quickly excited her, and the women stopped their moaning trash talk to simply scream with passion into each other’s faces. The romantic rivals came together as they clenched around the other woman’s fingers. Their fight halted for several seconds as their minds were overloaded with the euphoric sensations that left a puddle on the bed between them. 

“You must have cum first,” Tyene huffed as they both came back to reality. “I was just excited to see you losing.”

“Ha! I’m barely warming up,” Arianne defied her, pushing herself up on one arm. The other hand went for Tyene’s crotch, but the sand snake caught her wrist and shoved it aside. With their arms busy supporting themselves or grasping their opponent, Tyene had no opposition as she pressed her body into Arianne. She mounted the busty young princess, trying to grab one of her breasts. She too was intercepted by Arianne’s free hand, leaving their arms busy. With no other weapons at their disposal, they leaned into each other and clashed breasts and hips together.

Arianne had never done anything that intimately competitive with another woman. There was the bloody fingering of the stranger in the pit, but there was no real pleasure in that. This was not only trying to arouse her opponent but to contain her own enjoyment. It was like an almost sadistic sense of glee that came and went between her every little victory (whenever Tyene sighed or shuddered). She found herself starting to time her breathing and focus to maintain her composure as much as possible. Even that was enough to make Tyene smile as her heavier breaths showed she was having an impact on the princess.

“Your fancy titles won’t let you win this one, you greedy slut,” Tyene hissed with a shaky smile.  

“I don’t need a throne to get myself a man. And certainly not to prove that I’m sexier than you!” Arianne kissed Tyene aggressively, twisting her shoulders so that her nipples slashed across the snake’s. Tyene gasped but raised her upper body to slap her chest back down on top of her, a thrust of her breasts to Arianne’s slash. Arianne bit her lip and soldiered on, bouncing her hips upward into Tyene’s like she was gently trying to pummel her sex into submission with her own.

“Not bad for a princess whore,” Tyene taunted, growing red in the face with her own sexual struggles. She hard starting moving her hips to match Arianne’s grinding, but she was surprised at the royal’s skill. She thought Arianne was catching on quick and she had both fluidity and ferocity to her movements. Tyene grabbed and twisted her opponent’s  nipples in hopes of driving her back, but Arianne bit her lip endured. The princess did her best to ignore the pinching pain and grabbed Tyene’s breasts in kind, with the difference that she pulled one up to her lips and started to suck on her nipple aggressively.

Tyene shuddered from the extra attention but she simply shifted tactics. She grunted as she used her grip on Arianne’s chest to hurl her off, forcing them to roll over together again. Tyene broke off from her opponent and went right for her legs, shoving her head in between her thighs. The sand snake’s mouth could be heard going straight to work on Arianne’s labia, making the princess gasp and twitch. She slapped and groped at Tyene’s pussy but it almost seemed to excite her to know she was making such an impact. Arianne clamped her legs shut, but even that didn’t stop her from plunging her tongue into the princess’ slit.

“Get your filthy mouth out of there!” Arianne objected as she grabbed and shook Tyene’s hips. “I’m saving that for him!” When the sand snake refused to budge, she went with the same strategy she had been using that entire evening: if she couldn’t make her stop, she’d do the same to her but harder!

Arianne grabbed Tyene’s leg, pulled her close and devoured her pussy as loudly and messily as she could. Tyene’s body tensed from the intense and sudden pleasure she was receiving, forcing to turn her attack into a full sixty-nine position. Tyene tried to add to her assault by running her fingernails lightly over Arianne’s thigh to further tease her senses, but that only served to make the princess dig deeper into her. 

Tyene moaned out what might have been a curse had her lips been free to do so. Arianne grabbed her opponent’s ass to hold herself in place despite their squirming, preventing Tyene from denying her from reaching her target. The sand snake’s clit was dense and vulnerable by the time Arianne’s tongue pressed against it. Tyene gave a short cry, and with a few short strokes of her tongue she felt and tasted Tyene’s next step towards her defeat. The sand snake shook violently, but her cries send a shock through Arianne’s vagina. She didn’t have the time to celebrate her outdoing Tyene before she came as well, went folds clenching against each other’s faces.

They were both left reeling from their second orgasm, clinging to each other in the aftermath. Arianne’s heavy breathing seemed proof enough to Tyene that she hadn’t given up, so she stuffed two fingers inside her and attached her mouth to the top of her pussy. Arianne gasped and reached for Tyene’s hair, instinctively trying to get her back out of her. 

“You bastard’s slut!” she hissed in surprise. Her angle didn’t leave her much to grab with the rest of Tyene’s body in the way, so she quickly gave up on that. Instead, she attacked Tyene’s pussy in a vicious spanking. Tyene emitted a shriek as her wet mound emitted some sharp slapping noises as she writhed away from Arianne’s rougher approach.

“Can’t take a bit of spanking, little girl?” Arianne gloated as they both moved unsteadily to their knees. Tyene spread her legs in a way that drew Arianne’s eye to the tempting target, just for her to grab the princess by the chest and stroke her thumb over her nipples. The princess shuddered as her tender tits were caressed. That alone was enough to rekindle her body’s urges further than she was prepared for. She wasn’t used to this rapid barrage of orgasms keeping her mind and body wound up to the point of exhaustion. With that alone making her falter, Tyene gladly reached behind her and shoved the princess to the sheets. She mounted Arianne’s back and pinned down her legs so she could start fingering her from behind. 

“Oh shit! Stop that!” The princess kicked and wailed in protest, but her womanhood was proving to be far more accepting to the fingering. Tyene had an easy time holding her legs apart and taking advantage of her opponent, 

“Oh shit! Stop that!” The princess kicked and wailed in protest, but her womanhood was proving to be far more accepting to the fingering. Tyene had an easy time holding her legs apart and taking advantage of her opponent while Arianne only cursed and shouted. Her pussy was throbbing in not time after all the accumulated arousal, and she was cumming again mere minutes from the last time. The shock gave her the energy to buck and throw Tyene off, leaving the sand snake flat on her back. Tyene was startled by the orgasmic backlash, so much that Arianne pushed her legs up until her ankles reached farther back than her ears. The trusted snake’s contorted position made it ridiculously easy for Arianne to keep her spread open and lick Tyene repeatedly from ass to clit.

“Uhng! You scrawny cunt!” Tyene growled. She kept groping at Arianne’s thighs from her downed position, distracted but not out of the fight herself. “You think you can satisfy him with that shitty tongue work? F-fuck!”

“It seems good enough for you, slut.” Arianne took the moment to spit her insult before sucking loudly on Tyene’s wet pussy. She shook violently as she squirted into the princess’ mouth. Some of it she swallowed, but the rest she sat up and spat back out onto Tyene’s breasts.

The night went on with much more of that. For every time that Arianne pinned and buried her every finger inside the sand snake, Tyene would find a way to sit on her face while she twisted her tits and clit. They found themselves rolling around, sometimes kneeling face to face or on all fours or mounting each other in their dizzying erotic dance. Their contest ended with them both flat on their backs, legs and pussies mashed together as they humped as hard as they could manage. The bed was wet with cum beneath them as their groins made wet slurping noises like those passionate kissing. Both girls played with their breasts, overwhelmed by the mind-breaking pleasures they were putting themselves through. They couldn’t even manage to form the words to throw proper trash talk. At best, they threw out the filthiest word they could think of in one quick outburst.

They came several times during their last minute encounter, but they ultimately fell apart as they collapsed into their respective cum puddles. There was no more thrusting so much as there was helpless twitching as they struggled to keep their breath and raging heartbeats under control.

“So… I guess you’re worth his attention after all,” Arianne panted several minutes later when her wits had returned.

“And you,” Tyene said in a cracking laugh. “You’re clearly just as good as me.”

“Then… perhaps he’s good enough for each of us,” Arianne admitted. She wiped some sweat from her brow as she broke into a ridiculous smile.

“Or both of us,” Tyene corrected. “At once. What do you say?” She couldn’t push herself fully upright without sending electricity through her privates, but she reached out a hand for Arianne’s. With a bit of shifting, she moved to catch it.

“I think he won’t know what to do with us.”

“Once we’ve rested…”

“Yes!” Arianne agreed quickly. “A good night’s rest… maybe two…”

Safe or not, it had been rather petty. Still, Arianne remembered the night fondly. On certain evenings, Arianne could still see the knight’s face during the peaks of their threesome. It was little more than a harmless fling, and she didn’t see the knight for long before he was dispatched elsewhere. She had stayed close to the sand snakes, and she had even taken Obara Sand as her personal guard when coming to Storm’s End. Arianne would have liked to say that it was the last time she would get into such a petty duel over a handsome man, but it certainly was not. 

But just remembering it still made Arianne wet to recall. She wondered if that was the solution: to share the man. It had worked in the past, after all, but there were too many factors that wouldn’t settle. It would be a temporary solution at best, since sooner or later, one of them would want to win. One would eventually decide that they didn’t need the other one and take them out of the picture by any means necessary. Arianne also expected that she would gain the upper hand when the rest of the contestants arrived. There were sure to be more suitors arriving soon, and she knew that she possessed a level of wildness that the others would not. That would be just what she needed to stand out in an all out contest for their host’s attention. In fact, even now she was wearing nothing but a wool cloak to her meeting with Sansa. She intended to walk into the Godswood naked just to shock her. She wasn’t positive it would work, but any advantage against her current rival would work.

That, of course, brought of the Iron Throne and her old, petty enemy that sat on the throne now: Margaery. She had heard that she would be arriving at the castle shortly, and she had crossed paths with her before… 

Her third fight came when she had fallen for Renly Baratheon. She was attending the tournament at King’s Landing, where she’d fallen hard for the young leader. She was proud and excited to approach him, so she had let loose the fact to Margaery Tyrell that she was going to ask Renly for the first dance at the farewell feast. Margaery turned out to be perhaps the worst person to notify of this news, because she had been planning the exact same thing. They entered an exchange of frantic, whispered threats and insults until they decided to settle it in the least ladylike of fashions.

The women agreed to meet in one of the more isolated privies in the castle where they should have no one to bother them. It had some of the least foot traffic, and Arianne didn’t imagine that Margaery would take more than a few minutes to take care of. Margaery let herself into the restroom and a few minutes later, Arianne followed suit. The two women were left distinctly alone, since the close quarters left no space for anyone else to even consider fitting in there.

“Took you long enough,” Margaery scoffed. “Let’s make this quick then. I have a dance to get to.”

“Indeed. I’ll send the Baratheons your regards for having to leave so soon.” Arianne shoved Margaery in the chest , sending her the short distance into the nearest wall. Her back bumped against the stone lightly before she slapped Arianne across her cheek.

“You whore! That was my face!” Arianne hissed through her teeth. While hiding her struggle with Margaery had shown some clearer thinking and common sense, she was just as fiery about her choices in men.

“You won’t be needing it when I’m done with you,” Margaery huffed. “I’ll just leave you in here like the piece of shit you really are. AUGHH!”

Arianne pulled on her hair with both hands, yanking down on the fistfuls of hair like a pair of tassels on a set of curtains. Margaery shrieked from the pain in her scalp, setting her own claws on Arianne in return. She quickly ripped a piece of her dress off while burying her nails into Arianne’s hair to return the painful favor. Both women pushed and pulled as they filled the intimately tight space with their grunts of pain and anger.

Arianne finally broke the hair-pulling duel when she slapped Margaery across the face. It sent her head reeling sharply enough that it nearly hit the opposite stone wall. Margaery retaliated with a vicious snarl, losing any pretense of formality now that they were truly alone. She threw herself at Arianne, tackling her to the cramped floor of their chilly little battlefield. Arianne caught her attacker by the edges of her dress, trying to force the crushing noble back off. While it was met with limited success on that front, she did leave several long rips and tears in her assailant’s dress.

The women didn’t bother much with words as they focused on trying to force the other woman to surrender out of sheer agony. In fact, anyone who might have passed by their door might have mistaken it for just a woman having an especially difficult time inside. It was interrupted by a sharp shriek as Arianne lifted up Margaery’s skirts and gouged her nails into Margaery’s crotch.

Margaery howled and recoiled, but without much space to move in her back just hit the wall. Realizing that quickly enough, she kicked at Arianne’s legs and her invasive hand to try to drive her off. “You little shit! You spoiled, filthy slut!” Margaery ranted in her pain. She grabbed and pulled hard at the edge of Arianne’s dress, the fabric proving far more impressive to look at than it was durable. The loud ripping noise announced the exposure of Arianne’s legs, which Margaery went after quite quickly. She snatched the extended leg and pushed back on Arianne’s hair like a clumsy attempt at a wrestling maneuver. While her attack was amateurish, Arianne’s own limited experience left her off balance and tumbling back to sit on the privy’s open hole.

Margaery climbed into her foe’s lap as quickly as she could, though her formal attire and cramped quarters made for some slow going for both of them. She grabbed Arianne by the hair and slapped her back and forth, turning her pale cheeks red as the blows smeared around her makeup. Arianne flailed blindly in an attempt to stop her, but she could only slow her beating until Margaery shoved her head away. Arianne’s eyes watered from the stinging pain, but they scowled back at Margaery full of anger and determination. At this point, she would have kept fighting this awful woman even if there was no man on the line.

“Stop it, you soft-bodied cunt!” Arianne growled, lunging forward again. She clawed at Margaery’s chest, but the pinning woman caught her by the wrists. When they proved to be truly captured, Arianne found herself a better way to hurt her. With all their tussling and tearing, Margaery’s breast had fallen out of her dress. Arianne only had to lean in closer to stink her teeth into her tit, gnawing on her nipple and whatever else she could fit into her mouth.

Margaery let out a howl of pain that echoed off the walls of their cramped battleground.  “You barbarian whore! Get off of me!”

Margaery was thankfully too busy trying to shove Arianne off to deliver much of a counter attack. It kept the Dornish princess from doing as much damage as she’d hoped, but she was still able to leave a trail of bite marks along her romantic rival’s chest like a dull red tattoo.

“You wouldn’t last five minutes in my homeland, you two-faced little wench!” Arianne parted her mouth from Margaery long enough to spit her insult at her, just to turn her head and bite into the soft side of her other tit. Her teeth locked onto the tender skin, but this time Margaery caught her claws against her assailant’s face. She didn’t have to dig deep to get Arianne to scream hard enough release her, the darker-skinned princess recoiling as much as she could in the cramped area. Margaery followed up on her attack with a slap to the face, but a blindly grabbing Arianne still got her nails in between the tears of her dress. She raked her claws across Margaery’s snatch, getting her to scream as they both pulled back from their claustrophobic clash. With Arianna leaning against the latched door and Margaery leaning back over the privy’s open hole, they breathed heavily in an effort to recover from their petty injuries and exhaustion.

“You dirty savage slut,” Margaery huffed as she rubbed her aching chest. “I suppose all you Dornish cunts are all such simple beasts?”

“Excuse me?!” Arianne replied bitterly as she rubbed her aching groin. “So we should all be as the two-faced hypocrites of The Reach? The ones too weak to face any opponent they aren’t stabbing in the back?”

Margaery growled and sent a quick and clumsy kick into Arianne’s leg. “I suppose I haven’t beat you enough to keep your stupid mouth shut, barbarian whore?”

Arianne rose enough to kick Margaery back. “Maybe it’s simply because I haven’t liked your kind since before I came here. You just can’t betray someone who hasn’t trusted you from the start!”

The girls went right back at each other as suddenly as they’d stopped. Each grabbed the other by the hair, pulling and shaking them around until Margaery pushed hard enough to bounce Arianne’s head off one of the walls. The darker-skinned princess yelped and clutched her head, but she kept the other hand tangled in Margaery’s hair. She shoved Margaery back what little space they could afford, leaving her with an arrogant smirk on her face from the successfully stunning blow. Arianne wasn’t forcing her back to keep her away, however, as she used their change in distance to kick between the tattered remains of Margaery’s dress and nail her in the twat.

Margaery howled and fell to one side, clutching her aching privates as the already torn fabric caught on any loose bit of stone and worsened its state. Arianne grabbed onto her and tore into her skin and clothes, scratching up both until their struggles sent them toppling to the floor. The space between the seat and the door was even tighter than when they were standing up as they squeezed and squealed in one tangled mass. Half-buried in their ruined dresses, they bite and clawed at anything they could with no space to dodge or even roll without catching on another part of their enemy. Their scratches and cuts grew deeper and more numerous as they quickly abandoned any pretense of defense and poured their all into destroying the other.

“I’ll rip that soft body to shreds! Renly deserves a stronger woman than you!” Arianne raved as the last of her dress was ripped from her chest. Margaery pushed her down and bit into the darker woman’s breast, making her scream until she slapped and punched her face enough to drive her back.

“He doesn’t want a disgusting simpleton like you!” Margaery snarled as she tried to retreat. Arianne pulled on her dress, forcing her back while ripping the last of its seams that held it together. Their naked bodies slapped together while Arianne dragged her nails across the naked Margaery’s face.

Margaery finally broke free from the tangled limbs and torn fabric, pushing herself up onto the privy’s seat. She started stomping the short distance to Arianne with both feet, flattening her breasts and pushing in her belly repeatedly. Arianne released a few grunts of angry pain before she caught one of her attacker’s foot and shoved upward. It toppled Margaery to one side, allowing Arianne to climb on top of her and hurl her the other direction by the hair. Margaery grunted as her head hit the stone of the broad seat, just for Arianne to seize her hair again and force her face immediately over the hole full of filth.

“Since you won’t be dancing, perhaps you’d rather some of your fine Reach cuisine,” Arianne gloated as Margaery started to gag and cough at the repulsive smell.

“Aghhh! You treacherous slut!” Margaery wailed, planting her hand on the privy’s seat out of desperation and elbowing Arianne in the ribs. The Dornish princess grunted and backed off, even if neither woman could hit very hard. They weren’t exactly trained in battle, and even if the were, the limited space made it difficult to land any particularly heavy blows. Trying to act quickly, the best Margaery could manage was thrusting her naked body backward and squashing Arianne against the door. It rattled but stayed standing under the weight of the two women as Arianne started to scratch at Margaery’s ass and back.

Margaery jolted forward, just to be shoved into the nearby wall on the opposite side of the water closet. Since they were as far away from each other as they could get, they took the chance to nurse their aching injuries and spit more venom at each other.

“Since you’re clearly no lady, I would have thought you lowly savages would be able to actually fight,” Margaery snapped, rubbing her sorely scratched up ass.

“Just as I’m sure Renly would have liked to dance with a naked coward and hypocrite with a knife waiting for him in her undergarments,” Arianne snarled back sarcastically.

Once again, they were more furious than exhausted. Again the pounced onto each other, biting and clawing when they were too tired to slap and kick. It was difficult for one to stay on top of the other, closely matched in even closer quarters. Every time, an arm would catch on a cramped wall or a sudden jerk would send them on a short tumble in an awkward ball they’d have to untangle. They would stop for insults every so often, whenever their pains and lack of breath caught up to them. Any idea of this being a more ladylike way of settling things was long forgotten, though neither would land anything close to a killing blow along the way.

The young women only stopped when they heard the sound of the belltower. Arianne had one of Margaery’s wrists pinned while the other attacked her breast, while the Reach woman was ripping on two fistfuls of hair. The froze and listened as the bell struck twelve. In their cramped confines, they had lost all track of time. The dance was truly over with, if not the party itself. Renly had either not noticed their absence or found some other dance partner.

“It’s over,” Margery gasped, loosening her grip on Arianne’s hair. The Dornish girl slid back to her knees, wiping some sweat from her face. They were both winded and weary, their dresses in shredded and dirty heaps on the floor while their bodies were covered in scratches. Neither had any reason or want to continue, though their grudge wouldn’t go away. They were both too tired and hurt to go on, not that they would ever admit it to the other.

“The servants should start cleaning the privies now that the guests are leaving,” Arianne pointed out. She wasn’t certain about the fact, but it made some sense as an excuse to get out of the painful showdown.

“This was your stupid idea,” Margaery grumbled as he grabbed the remains of her dress. Tatters of Arianne’s were mixed in with it, but she couldn’t be picky now.

“You got off easy this time, next time you won’t be so lucky” Arianne grumbled as she did the same. Margaery finally cracked the door into the fresh air of the halls (or at least, some that didn’t smell like shit and sweat). She peered outside, and when she saw no guards or servants, they both made a break for it in opposite directions, clutching their dresses to their naked bodies.

At least she had shown discretion that time. It was still a wasteful scrap with a woman over a man, but at least the man had been worth something. It was no stable boy or young knight with flowery words but a real noble. She had regretted the fight rather than reveled in it, and she felt bitter years later when Margaery married Renly (even if it was strictly for politics). As a consolation, the word was that they had never actually consummated their marriage; he died a month into their marriage, and further rumors warned that Renly wasn’t especially interested in Margaery (or any woman for that matter).

Arianne was older now, and wiser (or so she hoped). She had made dangerous moves in her youth, not the least of which was her later attempt to crown Myrcella. It left close friends dead and nearly devastated her country before her father Doran had settled things. There was far too much on the line now, and he had made that very clear before she had left. “The fate of Dorne goes with you, daughter,” he had told her.  “Go swiftly, go safely, be my eyes and ears and voice… but most of all, take care.” Then he had risen and kissed her cheeks, showing his faith in her by the incredible effort it took him to do so. The Dornish lived in a harsh environment, and they wasted nothing, be it water or strength. His trust and parting words had been carefully accompanied by a warning; to watch for Petyr Baelish. He would likely have some scheme at work if there was so much power and political figures to be involved. Between his trust gave her more motivation than ever, even more than knowing the cruel things he was capable of. Arianne knew there was so much at stake now. She had already sent a letter home reporting what little progress she had and her frustrations with Sansa’s interference.

She had come a long way from the little girl rolling in the mud. She was there when Doran ordered the poisoning of Ser Jaime and Kevan Lannister, protesting angrily in hopes of sparing Myrcella the pain of losing what’s left of her family, but she was also there that night acting shocked and convincing Myrcella that it was Tyrell’s doing when news of their deaths reached Sunspear. She felt awful for their deaths, and much more awful for lying to Myrcella. The lies still tasted like bile on her tongue. It’s all for the best. Arianne told herself, for the hundredth time since that night. What is done is done and telling Myrcella the truth wouldn’t undo the deaths, nor would it ease her suffering. Besides, it kept Myrcella away from Storm’s Ends, away from the storm brewing in these walls. Arianne only prays that this will be enough to keep her safe.

As she approached the Godswood, Arianne wondered how the encounter would pan out, and if she has the strength to see it through.

Inside the Lord’s Bedroom of the great Drum Tower of Storm’s End, two figures seat across a Cyvasse table. A great fire roars in the fireplace, bathing the whole chamber in a warm orange glow, a welcome change from the still, cold, silent night outside the widows.

“So, what do you make of our two guests?” asked the young man, as he moved an ivory heavy horse across the board.

“They are quite… charming.” responded the other in a careful tone, as he moved an obsidian elephant to counter the knight. 

“That they certainly are. ” the young man responded with a smirk as he moved an infantry to support his horse. “But I had hoped for a bit more than that.”

“I fear I cannot judge someone I have not met. And elephant take heavy horse.”

“Rabble take elephant. Would you like to meet them, then?”

“No.” The other responded in a firm tone. “Lady Sansa and I parted on a less than friendly tone, and I only trust Doran as far as I can throw him, which is far more than I trust littlefinger.” The shorter man reached out for his spearman. “It is best that I stay dead for now. Even the greatest schemers cannot scheme against something they do not know. I will remain Yolo, the fool you picked up in Pentos, for now at least.”

“Be that as it may, it is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore their attention. I may have to make a choice soon and I would like to hear your thoughts first. Rabble take trebuchet” the young one spoke, this time with a hint of authority in his voice.

“Light horse take rabble. Your grace honours me.” responded the other. “But neither is fit, at least not at the moment. Littlefinger is a dangerous foe but even a more dangerous ally, and the Stark girl does have a suspiciously long string of dead husbands and fiances behind her. The Dornish girl might be the safer option, but Dorne has too many enemies and too many scores to settle. The prospect of a Dornish queen might create unlikely bedfellows.”

“Dragon take catapult. You mean the Tyrells and the Lannisters?” The young man looked up, a suspicious light flashed across his eyes.

“Yes, and I do not relish the prospect of facing my families on the battlefield. We still need to wait. Wait for the Lords of Seven Kingdom to weaken themselves. Elephant take elephant.” The other man looked back up, staring unflinching into those lilac eyes.

“So you won’t face your families yourself but you are willing to let other kill them?” smiled the young one, apparently pleased with the honest answer.

“It is a small difference, but it helps me sleep at night, that, and good strong wine.” replied the other as he took a sip from his goblet. “If anything, your grace shouldn’t have to put up with all these attentions for long. More suitors are on the way and they should keep our two guests well occupied.”

“Lady Margaery and your niece?. Crossbow man take dragons, check.”

“And one Daenerys Targaryen, with three actual dragons. Dragon take crossbow.”

“It seems that she would be the easy choice. I hear she is the most beautiful woman in the world, and dragon IS the most powerful piece. Dragon take Dragon.”

“Rumors can be exaggerated, and hers most of all. Her reputation does precede her though. Last we’ve heard she is razing Volantis to the ground. With all due respect your grace, you are your father’s son and she is your grandfather’s daughter. The same madness that ran in his vein may very well run in hers. Marrying her may be the surest way to unite the Seven Kingdom against you.”

The young man’s nostril flared up at the mention of his grandfather. “What are rabbles against dragons?” responded the young man, with a hint of anger in his voice as he smashed his white dragon on a onyx peasant.

“A poor choice of word, your grace. Rabble take Dragons.” Responded the other, as he moved a miniature man dressed in rags onto a mighty white dragon. “Check, death in four your grace.”

“Not fair. You provoked me!” complained the boy angrily.

“A good king should not be provoked so easily.” Responded his opponent, calmly as ever. “A good king should be patient, should know when to act and when to let others act for him. Play the innocent, naive boy and the gallant, handsome prince for now. The ladies will kill themselves for you, and you can have your pick when they have pulled out each others’ fangs. 

“As entertaining as it would be, how long do you think this facade will fool them? I’m surprised they haven’t seen through the it already.”

“A good friend once told me that people see what they wish to see. Right now, the last thing they wish to see is a sharp, prudent man in addition to the shrewd crafty enemy they already have to deal with. In the meanwhile, if your grace so desires, you could find a bed warmer to… ah… practice your swordsmanship.”

That brought a smile to the King’s face, “You have a bold tongue for someone your size. You may lose it someday. You are excused, and your counsel is appreciated.” Said the King as he walked to the window. The cloud had covered the moon and the sea is raging.

“I may tear it out myself someday, for all the trouble it causes me.” said the dwarf as he waddled to the window.“ When I was a boy, a maester once told me that the only safe spot in a storm is at its center, something to do with all the forces balancing each other out. One step outside the center, and the wind tears you apart.” The short man opened the window, and a gust of wind rushed into the chamber, sending Cyvasse pieces all over the floor, “This storm is the likes that the Seven Kingdom has never seen, and, you, my king must remain at the center of it.” And with that, he bowed and left. Leaving the young man to stare thoughtfully into the roaring sea.

The End

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