The room was dark, but warm, heavy black curtains keeping the morning sunlight out of the room while the fire burned in the corner. A single candle on either side of the large bed served as just enough light for the figure on the bed to see. One of which was nearly burned to the end, the hot wax collecting in the dish the candle had been sat in before she had gone to bed that night. One of the castle servants would use it to craft more candles, a good use for the hot wax if there was ever one. The shadows cast by the fire danced across the walls, much like the fire itself licked at the wood inside, heating up the cold stone around it. Above the fire, a large mantle held what appeared to be a human skull next to a small dragons skull. Between them three candle sat, none of them burning. Black on the left, white on the right, and red in the center. The only God she believed in found solace in those colours, thus they calmed her sorrow when she lit them. Rarely did she light them.
In the bed, large enough to fit several people, there lay a single figure beneath the pearl white silk sheets. Alabaster skin, difficult to discern from the sheets, though the red marks, scratches and bruises on her skin made her easier to find in the halflight. The figure stirred, rolling onto her back from her side, an arm throw above her head while the other lay palm up at her side. Long, dark eyelashes fluttered as she began to wake herself, glimpses of vibrant violet eyes between blinks. Well rounded breasts jiggled and raised as the girl stretched her back, slowly sliding her hips across the silk bedspread, relishing in the warmth of the room. Her knees pushed together, feet pulling apart as she yawned, stretched out, naked and largely revealed on the bed. There were few scars on her body, though on her hips there was a layer of skin that resembled a dragons scales, thicker and a stark purple against her pale pallor.
The door was cracked open already, a sign that her dragons had come looking for her in the night, and no one had latched the door again. The Queen was never fond of the bastard daughter of the king, often ordering the guards to turn a blind eye to things that caused her danger. On more than one occasion it had been her own skill that had saved her life, or the sword of one of the Kingsguard. Several of the Whitecloaks were partial to her, with how she acted in regards to these attacks on her safety. Illysia never complained about it, nor attacked Nymeria in kind. She would simply bide her time and wait for the woman to slip up, in which case Daerys would be forced to exile or execute his own wife. Or, at the very least, that was the outcome Illysia was looking for.
Outside of the large wooden door, the young man stopped to knock, before realizing that the door had been open to begin with. The kingsguard knight touched a hand to the hilt of his sword, preparing to find a murderer and a victim on the other side of the door. His free hand touched the edge of the wood, pulling it slowly until she was able to look around the corner. The sight he was greeted with on the inside was not one he had been expecting, but not one he had not seen before. The young woman was notorious among the castle knights, mostly for sleeping nude, or in rumoured cases, sleeping with them. Many of the guards would brag about having her, but he doubted any of them knew what her flesh tasted like any better than himself,
Sir Arton Velaryon, of the Kingsguard. Slipping his sword back into its scabbard on his hip, her stepped inside of the room and closed the door, locking it behind him. He knew the servant girls would come from another direction, though they wouldn’t be here for another hour at the least.
---
The opening of the servants entrance to the chambers alarmed the two figures, an entangled mess of limbs in the bed. Panting, sweat and various other juices produced by the human body. The man’s armor lay on the floor, his clothes throw in his eagerness, whereas the girl beneath him had not been wearing anything to begin with. Thankfully, the two had just finished with their session when the two handmaids walked in, immediately turning and facing the door they came through.
“Draw the bath for us Daniella. We may be wearing more than yesterday's grime.” The young woman spoke to the two of them, before the younger brunette rushed through to the next room where the bathtub was kept with another fire burning beneath it. This may not have been Illysia’s first time being caught in bed with someone by her handmaids, though it certainly was the first time for Arton, who was a sworn knight of the Kingsguard.
“No need to panic Arton. They won’t say a word. They know better than that.” The Bastard Dragon reassured him, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before untangling herself from him and the blankets to roll out of the bed.
Long silver hair tumbled down the girls back, tumbling in waves laced with pastel purple streaks. She lifted her arms into the air, stretching up, hips sliding from one side to the other as the handmaiden still there went to the closet to pick out her dress for today. They had commissioned that dress made when they had first heard of the Kings plan to bring in the heirs of the Houses, simply to annoy the Queen Nymeria.
“Freya, do you think we should visit the Wards? Before they meet the stuffy old Queen and her bratty children that is.” She looked over her shoulder at the Knight still sitting in her bed, his lap covered by the sheet.
“I trust you will keep me informed Arton, on everything that happens in the Kingsguard.” She gave him a very sweet smile, just as the younger of the two handmaidens called that the bath was ready. She vanished into the other room with the two girls, hips swaying along the way.
---
The two girls helped the young lady wash, both speaking the rumors and secrets they had found around the castle throughout the early morning. Illysia had always slept until the early afternoon, with her activities mostly during the night, or she simply wanted to sleep more than she had. The handmaidens, though not of very noble blood, had been hand picked by her while she visited various Houses, on the lookout for suitable husbands for her sisters, and a Queen for her brother. Daerys had often left her in charge of such things, since she was capable of dealing with diplomatic matters fairly easily, without the usual arguing that came with a Martell speaking to the Westerosi Houses. Many of the Lords took it as a slight that Daerys would send her at first, her being his bastard daughter, though soon came to enjoy her company. Thus she had found a great many contacts for herself and the Master of Whispers throughout the last year. Several months ago she had gone to visit the Grey’s, a smaller House with less lands, though their daughters were all beautiful. With the lady of the home dead,
Freya had been taking care of the home and her younger siblings, though with some convincing and letters, Illysia had managed to find the Lord a second wife, marry two of the daughters into higher families, and bring Freya back to King’s Landing with her as her handmaid. The dark haired young woman had even been courted by several knights while she was here, though none had struck her fancy as of yet.
The younger girl,
Daniella Hawthorne, was not as well versed or from a rough background. The third daughter and gifted with a sowing needle, her father readily agreed to send her off the serve Illysia Blackfyre, as a life in the Red Keep was much better than that of a small lord's wife. Of course, both of the girls had become her own, special little informants, each using their invisibility in the castle to gossip with the other servants, eavesdrop on the Lords, and tease the Knights into revealing valuable information. They were even aware of Myriah’s increasing madness.
---
When the three girls emerged from the bath, Illysia was dressed in a long and revealing
gown, deep red and black with lace accenting her breasts. The open back, deep cut and scantily covered breasts did nothing to diminish her grace and elegance. The tease of her skin, the kiss of pink on her cheeks and plump lips called for attention, taunting and sly. She smiled to the now fully armed knight, and sat in a low back, padded chair by the vanity for the two girls to begin their work on her hair. Of course, she only needed one of them to touch her, so while Freya began to comb through the fine locks, Daniella left through the servants doors to fetch food for the young child. The two would dress her hair in a
style that few used in the capitol, instead choosing an older Valyrian twist with a dragon fang pin.
“Perhaps I shall visit the Dragon Pit.”
MacabreMoth
Musoka
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