Playing the Game (Game of Thrones)

Thinking about Daenerys Targaryen, Jon can’t help but feel something welling up inside of him. Deep within his chest, the dragon that he’s only recently realized slumbers there has had its interest piqued. Daenerys… Daenerys is where his future lies. Or more accurately, it is he who she belongs with. HER future… is with him.
 
He can’t just allow his Aunt to get married to some barbarian savage, now can he? She’s of his blood, after all. His Uncle wants to sell Daenerys for an army, and from what Tycho has already told him, Viserys Targaryen is not well in the head, not at all. If Jon focuses his efforts here in Braavos, then obviously his power and influence within this one city will increase in the long run, so long as he’s successful. But at what cost to the rest of the world? Allowing his only living relatives to go off with a Dothraki Khalasar is… in no way advisable, as far as Jon can tell.
 
Letting out a low sigh, Jon squeezes Bellegere’s hand beneath the table, and gives her an apologetic smile before turning back to the Iron Banker across from them.
 
“I will accept the Iron Bank’s wisdom on this matter and go to Pentos.”
 
Tycho looks pleased by this, while at the same time, Jon can feel Bellegere stiffening at his side. Still, she slowly relaxes, as he rubs soothing circles into the back of her hand with his thumb. He doesn’t say it, obviously, but he’s hoping to convey his meaning anyways. Just because he’s rejected her plan for the time being doesn’t mean that he’s rejecting her. In point of fact… Jon can’t imagine a world where he lets Bellegere leave his side.
 
She, like the Aunt he’s going to save, has the blood of dragons flowing through her, no matter how faint that blood is. And Jon… Jon is feeling quite… possessive.
 
“Very well then, your majesty. I’ll arrange for transport.”
 
Jon simply gives Tycho a nod, which the Iron Banker takes as a goodbye, given that he departs the room a moment later. Once he’s gone, Jon turns towards Bellegere and smiles at her, asking one simple question.
 
“Come with me?”
 
Her eyes light up at that, and she smiles shyly, the small smile doing wonders for her great beauty as she ducks her head a bit, but ultimately nods in response. Jon’s heart swells, and his blood roars in triumph. It’s only right that the courtesan follow him to the ends of the earth. He is the dragon, and she is his in every way that matters.
 
Of course, that does make one wonder how Daenerys will react to him. He is the dragon… but then, so is she, right? Will she bow to him and submit to him, as Bellegere does? Jon finds himself curious to see just what sort of woman his Aunt is, that she would allow Viserys to marry her to a horse lord. Well, he supposes he’ll find out soon enough.
 
-x-X-x-
 
A day later, they’re on a ship, headed for Pentos. The ship is at the head of a fleet of four, with the other three of them each a mighty vessel filled to the brim with mercenaries and weaponry. Though, from what Tycho had hastily told him on the docks before their departure, Jon was not expected to besiege Pentos with this small force or anything like that. Nor could he expect to be able to use three ships of mercenaries, no matter how battle-hardened they were, to fight Khal Drogo’s entire khalasar.
 
No, the mercenaries were there to back him up and to keep the Iron Bank’s investment from depreciating through his death. Basically, they were to help him beat a hasty retreat if his mission ended in failure in anyway and he found himself threatened with fatal harm. They were also there to protect him from any would-be assassins and keep him safe until he could make his challenge.
 
Though, who that challenge would be to, Jon did not yet know. He was still considering his options on that front… considerations that were made somewhat more difficult by the distraction Bellegere was currently providing. Obviously, Bellegere’s pleasure barge was not made to brave the seas. But she was still the Black Pearl of Braavos, with all the wealth, power, and influence that that came with.
 
So, the first ship in their fleet, unlike the others, was not filled with mercenaries and the like. It still had a sizable crew to it of course, a ship this large needed one, but the rest of it’s passengers were of a softer variety. Effectively, Bellegere had purchased this ship from the Arsenal of Braavos and they’d brought it along with the rest of the fleet so that she and by extension Jon could live in comfort on the journey to Pentos.
 
This left them both in the Captain’s Quarters on the ship, with Bellegere as eager as ever to distract him… to please him, more like. Jon lays back on one of the cushioned lounges that she’d had brought aboard, and watches as the absolutely gorgeous caramel-skinned courtesan dances for him, all smiles and flowing movements, showing off her beautiful body in more ways than one, clad in the finest silks that give tantalizing views of parts of her.
 
He’s seen her completely naked, of course. He’s been deep inside of her more than once now. And yet, watching her dance, watching the traces of a body he knows to be beautiful appear and then disappear before his eyes as the flowing silks hide the juicier parts of her gorgeous form… there’s something to be said about how absolutely mouthwatering Bellegere currently is.
 
Seeing no point in denying himself what he truly desires any longer, especially with how hard he is right now, Jon beckons Bellegere over to him as casually as she can manage. Her smile grows, and the beautiful courtesan slinks ever closer, still dancing, still swaying back and forth as she shows off in every way that she possibly can.
 
Working his pants open, Jon extracts his cock from its confines, given that it was beginning to hurt. He gives Bellegere a pointed look, but her smile only grows wider still… more teasing, certainly, as she turns and lowers her bottom, still clad in her silken dress, onto his crotch, rubbing and grinding down on his cock, but with the soft, silken garment still very much… in the way.
 
Jon growls and makes a move to grab her, but Bellegere is ready for it, giggling as she pulls right out of reach, the minx. His nostrils flare, and the dragon in his chest demands satisfaction. But… he refuses to let either it or her win. He refuses to act like a beast ALL of the time. No, Jon will not chase her… he knows now that she will come to him willingly, eventually.
 
Instead, the young man, who the Iron Bank would see as King of all of Westeros, leans back in his seat once more, even taking his hand off of his cock as he lounges back. The only thing that betrays his current casualness is of course his twitching, hard erection, but then, that is as much bait as anything else.
 
When he does not chase Bellegere, she notices and looks back at him with a slight pout. But Jon is the picture-perfect image of serenity, save for his throbbing member, and simply raises a single eyebrow back at her. Taking the challenge for what it is, the seductive, sultry courtesan licks her lips and begins to dance again, though this time she’s having a hard time not staring at his cock, rather than staring him in the eye.
 
More and more, Bellegere is staring at his big, fat length. More and more, Jon notices that she’s approaching, almost unconsciously, moving closer and closer without seeming to even notice that she’s doing it. She dances right up to him, and only with such proximity does the Black Pearl realize that she’s effectively been drawn in by Jon’s member. With a light huff, Bellegere admits defeat and falls to her knees between his legs.
 
Her silken dress is pulled down off of her shoulders, and her delectable dark-skinned breasts fall out as she leans up and forward, encapsulating his cock between her tits. Or at least, as much of Jon’s sizable member as she can. Once she’s got her breasts firmly wrapped around his lower length, Bellegere leans her head forward and sucks his cockhead into her mouth as well, bobbing up and down the first few inches of Jon’s shaft, allowing the drool, saliva, and some precum to collect on her lower lip and ultimately slide down his length into the crevice of her cleavage to provide lubrication for her to slide her tits up and down the rest of his cock.
 
Jon groans now, knowing he’s won their little battle before. Bellegere broke first, and now here she is, submitting to his power. The dragon in his chest that had so ardently advocated for chasing after her is now pleased, practically purring in Jon’s head, its feelings a mirror of Jon’s own at this point. He’s just as satisfied, just as content to have HIS woman on her knees, so directly worshipping him and his cock.
 
It’s not long before Bellegere extracts his release from him. Jon doesn’t give her any warning beyond a simple grunt, but then, an experienced courtesan like the Black Pearl doesn’t need it. Having sensed his impending climax, Bellegere is more than ready for it, and the moment his seed begins to hit the back of her throat, she’s swallowing, drinking down his white, hot ejaculate like it’s nobody’s business but theirs.
 
Her hot, wet mouth feels like heaven, and so do her tits. Jon lets his head fall back as he finishes, as she swallows every last drop. He lays there, lounges there really, even as Bellegere pulls back from his cock, letting it leave her mouth with a pop. Then she climbs up onto his lap and happily sinks down onto his member, seeming to sense his desire to remain lazy, and taking it upon herself to continue giving her master pleasure.
 
As she rides him, Bellegere begins to moan, panting heavily, her face growing more and more flushed as her exposed breasts bounce and jiggle in front of his face. Leaning forward, she brings her chest closer and closer purely unconsciously… and Jon can’t possibly resist such an open invitation. Bellegere yelps, squeals, and then moans some more when he reaches up and takes hold of both of her tits in his hands, pulling them down into suckling range.
 
Slurping and lapping and even nipping at her sizable rack, Jon plays with Bellegere’s breasts to his heart’s content, even as the caramel-skinned courtesan continues to bounce up and down his cock quite happily, grinding into his crotch, her cunt walls clenching and squeezing HARD at his member. It’s not long before she cums for the first time that evening, and once that happens its as if the floodgates have been opened.
 
He’s quite aware that it’s partially his heritage that’s doing it. Bellegere has already confided in him that no other man she’s ever lain with is capable of making her feel quite so good. In point of fact, she even told him that for many of her clients, she’s usually faking her pleasure. Part of being a decent courtesan involved knowing how to please the men who came to her for comfort, after all. She was, without a doubt, an excellent actress.
 
Jon had of course told her that he never wanted her to pretend with him, that he wanted her to tell him if he was hurting her or wasn’t doing something right. Bellegere had smiled and told him that she’d never had to pretend yet… and didn’t ever expect to. Even now, Jon knows he can trust her… he can feel it in his chest, her pleasure, her adoration, her devotion. He can feel that her orgasms are real, even as her cunt clenches around his cock in a most satisfying faction, all while he continues to lavish her exquisite, perfect tits with praise.
 
It’s not long before Jon reaches his next climax and pumps a nice, thick load of seed into Bellegere’s womb. Even as the courtesan subsequently collapses onto him from the pleasure, he’s already moving to wrap his arms around her as he smiles.
 
His Aunt’s wedding is a month away, and according to Tycho, the journey would take just about as long. Until then… he had a lot of free time to fill.
 
-x-X-x-
 
“Your orders, my lord?”
 
As Jon looks over at the Captain of the small Mercenary Company that the Iron Bank had procured for him, he can’t help but smile somewhat crookedly. There’s an actual real note of respect in the other man’s voice that hadn’t exactly been there early on in their journey. Jon had quickly come to the somewhat sensible conclusion that spending all of his time in bed with Bellegere wasn’t conducive to keeping his skills sharp.
 
It would be so easy to fall into this lull, this sense of security that he didn’t need to continue training just because he had men to fight for him now. Jon refused to do that though. Perhaps he got that from his uncle… perhaps he’d gotten it from the stories of King Robert. The man had been so very strong, when he’d struck down Jon’s father at the Trident. He’d been a monster of a warrior, by all accounts.
 
And then, by all accounts, he’d spent the next two decades growing fat and weak, letting himself get lost in whoring and drinking to the extent that even the North heard rumors of Robert’s follies. Jon refused to become like that, he refused to ever be like that, just as he refused to ever be like the Mad King who’d kicked his grandfather and his uncle on the Stark side of the family.
 
He would be better… he had to be better. So, after spending that first day with Bellegere, Jon had transported himself to one of the other boats and asked for training. Fighting at sea was far different from fighting on land, as he quickly found out, but learning how was an excellent use of his time nonetheless, Jon had deemed. Not only had he learned quite a lot about how to deal with the rocking of a boat while still trying to stick his opponent with the pointy end of his sword, he’d also managed to keep his muscles strong and loose, and his stamina and strength at exactly where it would be.
 
Now that he was in Pentos, even if there was no one currently attacking him, Jon had every reason to expect that he would be committing violence of some sort before the end of this. The only thing left to do was decide what came next. They’d made good time, and there was three days left before his Aunt’s marriage to the Dothraki Savage was to take place. Khal Drogo and his Khalasar were already here, of course, all camped outside of Pentos, currently peaceful… or as peaceful as the horse lords could be.
 
He had two options once more, as far as he could tell. He could go find Viserys right now and challenge his uncle for control of their House. Of course, with how diminished their House was, that effectively meant control of the last female Targaryen, namely Daenerys. This would almost certainly result in a duel, which might upset the Magister said to be hosting Viserys and Daenerys, one Illyrio Mopatis. It would likely also upset the Horse Lord that’d come all this way for Daenerys. But given Jon had four ships and a company of mercenaries, he was pretty sure he could make off with Daenerys before Khal Drogo and his khalasar could even learn of what he’d done and try to ransack the city.
 
Or, Jon could wait. He could wait three more days, and then he could crash the wedding itself and challenge Khal Drogo for Daenerys’ hand in marriage, simply bypassing Viserys altogether. Given what he’d been told about the Dothraki by Tycho, Drogo would have to accept a one on one challenge or lose face… and Jon’s mercenaries would allow for this, a show of force at the wedding that would give Jon a chance to say his piece.
 
So, there were his two options. He was here for his Aunt… now all he had to do was decide how he was going to get her.

-x-X-x-

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