WebNovels

Chapter 23 - Lucky number 15

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Domeric

"Oh! Alice, was a special lass, born bereft of thumb!!!"

If anyone had ever asked how their trip to King's Landing would have been.

"Lost a digit tending flock, now feeling awfully glum"

This, this would not have been his first option, nor the second.

"Oh! Alice, with three fingers, a copper in her glass!"

He could see Robert I Baratheon, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm of Westeros. Drunk, with a cup in his hand, a big titted maid on the other, in a brothel full of other stags, some lions, and their group.

"Had two fingers less than most"

But the most impactful and best thing for him to see was Seb's.

"She'll shove them up your arse, hey!"

Seething rage boiling inside him, but pretending to not feel a thing.

He could see it clearly as day, as he politely rejected the line of whores that the Master of Coin had provided for his nameday. Not that it mattered, for their services were offered and accepted by the men around, taking each one of them deeper into the brothel.

Domeric laughed, for while he had tasted a woman thanks to a maid in Dreadfort, he could not, for the Old Gods, lose such a sight. Theon had not been so patient, for he called dibs for the one with the fattest ass. Meera was present, beside Sebastian, looking with more curiosity than anything at all the women around her, unaccustomed and curious at seeing prostitutes working. Jojen had already excused himself, clearly uncomfortable about everything, but Domeric could swear that it was more about the horrible stories that Sebastian had provided.

STD? he called them Domeric mused, while still having no idea about their meaning.

He looked beside him, and could see Jon and Robb trying but failing to keep themselves stoic. They had been allowed some wine by Sebastian but were absolutely forbidden to get a go with the whores around them. But they were lordlings, so they had to remain at the party.

Plain torture Domeric laughed.

"What is so funny, sugar?" a blond woman said, refilling his glass while cupping her breasts to give him a better view.

"I love the view, sweetheart, but I think my friend over there needs you more than me," he said, pointing to Sebastian.

"I tried, sugar, he didn't want me. Is he ugly behind that mask? Do you think he thinks me ugly? Do you think I am ugly?" she said, with tears blooming in her eyes.

Women Domeric thought, while he discreetly passed her a copper star while murmuring in her ear.

"Try again with my friend, if you make it, a silver stag will be waiting for you," he said.

The tears were quickly wiped from her eyes, and a smile bloomed on her face.

She nodded, while she walked into Sebastian's position, where she 'accidentally fell' with her head suspiciously pointing toward his crotch.

Of course, he evaded, and her face only met hard wood, not the one she was after.

He looked up, and he could see someone new had come. Jon Arryn, taking with him Robb, Jon and Meera back to the Red Keep.

Domeric watched as Sebastian didn't even look at the girl who had fallen at his feet. Instead, he looked at the King.

"Your Grace," the butler said, his voice like cracking ice.

"The next time you wish to celebrate my birth, I would prefer a simple assassination attempt. It would be less messy."

Sebastian seethed with venom, to which Robert laughed.

"Wine, women and spectacle, what a gorgeous night," Domeric said to himself while enjoying his wine.

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Robb

At the end of the night, the King used his authority to trap Sebastian with five whores in a large room. One of them quickly left, calling more of them to Sebastian's room. From the talk among the servants, fifteen people were in the room not including Sebastian, with laughter, awws and whispers getting out of the room.

Or so Robb had heard, trying to catch the whispers among the servants.

"Is it true? What do you think?" Robb asked.

Jon shrugged.

"Does it matter?" he asked.

Robb doubled down.

"And how many do you think you would be able to handle?" Robb asked his brother.

Jon's face reddened like ripe tomatoes, but he quickly answered.

"More than you, my Lord" he added with certainty.

They looked at each other, and then laughed.

"At least the wine tasted good. Dornish red? Delicious," said Robb, recounting his experience.

"An experience that I am sure should remain hidden from your mother. The poor bastard would be accused of 'corrupting Winterfel's heir' " Jon added with a smile.

Robb got silent, thinking, and Jon asked.

"Robb, are you alright?"

"Yeah, just… it's the first time I've heard you joking about her. You always seemed…"

"Afraid?" Jon asked.

Robb nodded.

"I was, I am still. But the trip… Winterfell is my home, but to talk, to have seen new things, met new people. Your mother doesn't like me, but Lord Stark, you, Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon, and Sebs. You are family. And while Winterfell is my home, there is still a lot of world to see" Jon confessed, eyes glinting for new experiences.

Robb looked at Jon, unaware of the currents hidden beneath the calm sea, and hugged him.

Jon hugged him back. It took a moment before disgust overpowered the room. They separated immediately, making sounds of gagging and laughing.

"So you want to see the world, Jon Snow? When I get to be Lord, I will appoint you somewhere to trade in my name. But with one condition," Robb said with a grandiose opening.

Jon looked confused.

"Cut your girly hair, dear brother, for I am afraid that slavers will confuse you with a pretty maiden" Robb said seriously.

"Fuck you, my Lord" Jon rolled his eyes while extending his arm.

"Fuck you too, Jon" Robb said while clasping Jon's forearm with his, a promise being made among children eager to become men.

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Petyr Baelish

Petyr Baelish was in his office smiling with fatherly affection. He was caressing the hair of one of his workers. It felt soft to the touch, and it slid between his fingers. The golden hair fell from the prostitute's head beautifully, except for the bandage covering the girl's nose.

"I've heard rumours, my dear, but would you kindly shed some light about our dear guests?" he asked, while the girl purred in his arms. Some kindness here and there made them easier to control.

"Sure… he rejected me once, sir. The next time I fell, as you order us to do with difficult clients. I—"

She could feel how the Master of Coin was grabbing her hair aggressively with each word she muttered. She stopped and he let her continue. She understoo, he wanted information. He did not care about her.

"We followed the king's command. We entered his room and he…"

Petyr caressed her neck, murmuring, almost purring.

"He… he treated my wound, ser" the girl said, shying away, but there was nowhere to go.

"He talked with us, sir. He told us that he did not want our services, but respected our work. He gave each of us a stag, m'lord," she said with fanfare.

"He taught us about combinations of herbs to remove skin impurities. He even showed us concoctions to have beautiful hair. He invited more of us to listen, and ten more came to the room to listen. It was enli—enli…"

"Enlightening?" Petyr added.

"Yes, yes. He even washed my hair as an apology for the fall. He knew where I was headed but evaded anyway. He cured my nose, gave me some creams, washed my hair as a demonstration. And we all received money for our time," she said with happiness in her voice.

"And you received more?" Petyr asked, and the girl paled in fear.

"He… he gave me a golden dragon. It was a gift, he said. As an apology, m'lord. It's more than I make in three years. I didn't want to hide it fro—"

"Shhhhhh, you can keep it, sweetheart," he purred in her ear, to which she blushed deeply.

"Tell the others they can also keep their gifts," he added to the girl's delight.

"Go," he said, and the girl happily ran to share the good news.

Now alone, Petyr laughed. His small probe had been detected and deflected.

"How amusing" said to himself the Master of Coin with mirth. For while the services he provided had been rejected before, this approach had been highly creative.

"And maybe lucrative" Petyr said, while reflecting on the potential economic value of creams and lotions for the highborn women.

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A/N: I recomend you two fanfics that I found. 

A Different Jon (ASOIAF SI) in webnovel from Daoist171437 (Its really good, some battle strategies fly over my head because my spatial awarness is sht, but Its really good, give it a try )

And Reinventing the Wheel (An ASOIAF Uplift SI) in spacebattle dot com by Charles Garrett Abbott. Its absolutely awesome.

Like, review, add comments, throw stones, or dont.

Next stop, Highgarden!

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