####
Essos, Braavos,
"A-All hope is lost."
"Why? Why can't you help us? The throne is mine by right!" Viserys Targaryen roared at Willen Darry, the one who had saved them from Dragonstone, an old man not far from death. "What changed?"
"Everything, my Prince." Willen Darry tiredly replied and gazed at the little girl nearby. "You are no longer heir to the throne. Princess Elia gave birth to Prince Rhaegar's son. She's in Dorne now."
Viserys frowned, his eyes overcome with rage. "No, that's impossible! I'm to be the King!"
"It is the truth, my Prince. You… I suggest you and Princess Daenerys go to Dorne. The Martells will care for you as their own. You'll have Princess Eli—"
"Give up my claim? Never! That throne is mine by right. I am the dragon, and I'll see the usurper burned away. Do you hear me? I'll have allies, I will. Essos is vast, too vast to hold no friends for me."
Willem Darry sighed and slumped back in his chair. "Spare a thought for the girl, my Prince. I have but a year or two left in me, and then what? You're still a boy, and she, younger still. Who will stand with you, when all know the rightful heir is another?"
Viserys frowned and looked at his little sister. "I-I… I don't know. Maybe she'll help me win an army. I could wed her to some fat Magister, a merchant prince, or even the horse lords if they kneel."
Willem Darry looked at Daenerys in panic, fearing for her future. She was so small, delicate, and innocent, and he could see she'd grow up to be an unmatched beauty. He feared that, blinded by false dreams, Viserys would indeed end up selling her to someone.
"Please… think again."
"Enough! I've made up my mind. I don't need you, I'm a dragon! You are to kneel to me, that's it! Let's go, Daenerys!"
Willem watched the prince take the little girl into the house.
He tiredly sighed, scared, worried, furious about everything. The boy was as mad as his father. He questioned whether being loyal to the Targaryens was really worth it. But knowing the kids would have died at Robert's hands, there was some solace.
"I… I should write to Princess Elia."
####
Flea Bottom,
"Lord Septon!"
"Seven bless us!"
Thud!
"I-I'm blessed!"
Bronn had learned a new magical feat that morning, and he chose the best place to test it. The spell was harmless and mostly useless, but to others, it was enough to make them kneel to him even if they stood on a pile of shit.
He didn't know the name of the magical spell and only learned to cast it on his palm. He knew it was the weakest version of the magic, but it was enough to leave everyone speechless.
In the narrow streets of Flea Bottom, covered in sewer filth, shit, and questionable things mixed, he approached random people, mostly beggars. He would toss them a penny and then raise his right hand towards them before casting that magical spell.
In an instant, a bright yellow light would cover his hand. It was bright enough to leave the beggar flinching back, eyes shut, but the heat could be felt.
"Aaah! Y-Your Divine Holiness!"
The beggar groveled in filth, crying, mumbling prayers.
From there, guarded by Gold Cloaks, he randomly gave coins, beggars, children, whores who looked utterly destroyed. Each time he waved his raised, shining hand to them, leading them to kneel and cry.
"Seven! The Seven's Angel!"
Of all the names, Angel stuck with him in Flea Bottom because there was no other word to define his magic. Until now, his magic was all invisible, and it could only be felt, not seen. But this simple light creation magic changed everything.
Now, they could see the shining light. Even in the middle of the day, it shone like a star.
This rotten place, ugh, the stench! Bronn barely held his breath together. And once he was done giving the useless blessing to two dozen smallfolk, he started to feel tired. But by then, an enormous crowd of the faithful started to march behind him to watch him give blessings.
Each time he showed the light magic, they all cried and prayed.
"Bless the Seven's Angel!"
Seven's Angel became his new nickname by the end of his long tour in Flea Bottom. From Bronn the Blessed, he rather liked Seven's Angel more, as it made him seem more grand, more powerful, beyond mere blessings.
This… changes everything!
It was hard to hide his excitement. Until now, he was famous in King's Landing, Oldtown, and the lands between them. But from now on, he knew he was going to be revered. And he knew just the way to capitalize on it.
What he needed was a symbol, a certain pattern they could draw on walls, on cloth, in paintings, and then pray to it in their homes. The goal was to be an ever-present entity in their lives, always on their mind.
Also need a slogan.
Finally, he led the crowd of tens of thousands towards his large mansion, though he had no plans to hold a sermon. Instead, he climbed the mansion's boundary walls, entering the guardpost above the main gates.
It was high enough that the entire crowd could see him.
"Angel!"
"Seven's Angel!"
"Bless me!"
"I have a wish!"
"I want a wife!"
"Make me rich!"
"Heal my mother!"
"Seven's blessed Angel!"
The chants were endless and countless, some just reverence and some wishes. And all he had to do was raise his right hand and shine the light to silence them. After that, he used magic to speak louder.
"Lift your eyes, O faithful throng,
The Seven guard you, swift and strong.
The Father's hand shall guide your way,
The Mother's grace shall light your day."
He sang so passionately, with so much emotion. He was getting good at it by the day. At that point, he believed if he told the women down there to disrobe and spread their legs to him, they would ask 'how wide'.
Nearing the end of his prayer, he nodded to Septa Unella, who had arrived beside him. Quickly, she unfolded a large flag and hoisted it high with a long stick. Some soldiers helped her hold it.
When it fluttered, it revealed a mark. In the middle of the white flag, there was a massive golden palm printed, fingers spread wide, and in the middle of the palm was the red, seven-pointed star of the Seven.
The smallfolk began crying at the sight. It was to be Bronn's cult's official symbol from then on.
"The Warrior shields both weak and mild,
The Maiden smiles on every child.
Go home in peace, your hearts made sure,
Another dawn will bring blessings pure."
He finished the prayer.
"May the Seven's light guide us!"
And then came his loudest voice, the wording for the official slogan. It fit him because he was indeed the one with Seven's Light, literally.
Finally, he stopped shining the bright yellow light and waved his hand. The meaning was clear; it was an order to go away. He expected to have to shout, but surprisingly, they obeyed him right away. The smallfolk started policing themselves, making safe passage for all to leave and avoid a stampede.
That was… fucking effective.
As the crowd left, he retreated into the main building of his mansion and left through a secret passage. He went alone, straight into the Red Keep as he'd ignored King Robert since morning. Now it was late noon.
Guarded by Gold Cloaks, he was given direct, unrestricted passage into the Red Keep. Sadly, it was now his turn to wait as King Robert had left for hunting.
Might as well have some fun with my royal golden whore.
With nothing to do, he strolled into Maegor's Holdfast with a bottle of medicine he usually applied to little Prince Steffon.
Along the way, the maids and passing Kingsguards bowed to him, giving him the sort of respect only high nobles received. But what he saw in them was respect mixed with fear. Lord Varys' death by the Stranger's curse had already become common knowledge across the castle and the city.
Good for me. No idle bastard to disturb the Queen's breeding.
He climbed the stairs leisurely and eventually reached Queen Cersei's bedchamber. But no Kingsguard was guarding it, which meant there was nobody inside.
Hm?
Yet, just as he was about to resume his search, he noticed something. The scent of wine was absurdly potent, and it was coming from the bedchamber.
Curious, he attempted to push the door and…
Locked? Where are the Kingsguard?
But a locked door was nothing to him. A mere gentle touch of his palm on the door, a simple spell recitation in his mind, and the door swiftly opened. He wasted no time in entering, fearing the Queen might be in danger.
Though what awaited him was an answer.
"Ummmh… Oh, Jaime… Yes, yesssss… Harder… harder… my love~"
Bronn got the answer to his question. Why Jaime Lannister was so obsessed and protective of his sister? Now, clearly, he had every reason to protect the snug cunt available to him.
Seven fucking Maiden's tits and Mother's cunt! Fuck! They're fucking twins… Ugh!
Bronn considered himself a vile man, but even he couldn't fathom something like this. Targaryens were different; they were known to do it. But Cersei… she was a fucking Lannister and… his supposed loyal golden whore.
"Aaaaaah! S-So deep, I waited for this for so, so long… Ummh!"
Now what?
He watched them rut like animals, the Queen on the bed, the Kingsguard on top of her, his upper armor intact but his breeches removed. From the looks of it, they'd only started as the Kingsguard was busy trying to get her breasts out, and honestly, Bronn couldn't find any fault. Her tits were fantastic and currently filled with nectar that he drained every morning.
Thank you, Cersei Lannister, for giving me yet another leash to hold around your bloody neck.
As for Jaime Lannister, Bronn already knew what he was going to do. This was going to be his life's last erection.
"Yes, yes, kiss me! Yes, oooooh!?"
Finally, Bronn walked towards the bed, quickly noticed by the Queen's horrified gaze at last. Her expressions really darkened, not in anger but in utter dread. Not the dread of being caught, but the dread of the Seven.
"Such heresy in Baelor the Blessed's own realm." Bronn sighed, shaking his head, getting Jaime's attention as well. "Never thought it'd be from you, Your Grace. The Seven seethe above us… Aye, I feel their fury. Their wrath burns… and I do so quake. Seven help me, a mad thing you've done… aye, a mad thing."
Jaime Lannister jumped like a lion, naked below, as he rushed to grab his sword. "Perfect. I've been longing for an excuse to gut you. Trying to force yourself on the Queen? That will serve."
Bahaha! This whore?
Bronn held back the laugh. And seeing Cersei's frown, he almost howled. Her fucking womb was tainted by his seed, and nobody knew.
Even as Jaime aimed the blade at him, Bronn didn't step back. He continued to pray, mumbling in worry. "No! Forgive this fool! Forgive this child, Oh Mother, oh Maiden! He knows not the sin he commits! No! D-Don't… don't take away his fertility… I pray!"
From the bed, Cersei's eyes widened in horror at Bronn's words. She jumped off the edge and grabbed Jaime's sword arm.
"Jaime, no! Please, you must beg for forgiveness!"
"To him? Sweet sister, you've always been easy prey. That fool's played you like a mummer's farce." Jaime pushed her aside with a smirk and advanced, aiming to kill. "Things I do for love—Argh! Fuck!"
Bronn's right hand came up abruptly, and a blinding yellow light flashed, piercing Jaime's eyes, leaving him staggered.
"Oh Maiden, the fool knows not his folly! Forgive him, forgive him!"
Bam!
Next thing Jaime knew, in that moment of blindness, a fist connected squarely in his face, knocking him out, his front two incisors shattered.
Thud!
"Such folly! Such sin! Oh Gods… Oh, Seven!"
He kept mumbling. He kept scaring the living shit out of Cersei until she became a mumbling mess herself, bawling.
And in that moment of unnotice, Bronn poured something very potent into the unconscious incest-loving Kingsguard's mouth.
"Seven help us! Seven help this realm! Oh—I vow, Maiden above! I'll make the Queen repent!"
Through her wonderful cunt!
___________________
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