####
As weeks passed, the rituals turned into something far more vulgar and basic. It was just sex for the sake of sex. All prayers were forgotten. They rutted whenever they wanted, or whenever he desired. She never refused, no matter the deed, her mouth, her cunt, the endless coiling of tongues, or even taking her ass once. She gave him everything with moans, smiles, and pure devotion.
After all, Willas Tyrell was showing so much improvement that it had to be the Seven's blessing. And the one who bestowed it? Oh, Bronn was the very embodiment of the Seven in that castle. Alerie worshiped him, his cock, licked him like his skin oozed blessings.
But there was another issue. Bronn started to get a feeling that Olenna Tyrell knew about his and Alerie's exchanges. While the older woman hadn't done anything yet, Bronn wanted to be prepared.
That meant getting serious about magic. Other than bedding Alerie, Unella, and Malora separately, healing Willas, making potions, and healing smallfolk, he spent most of his time diving into those strange memories resting in a corner of his mind.
Ugh… This is hell!
Diving into those memories was really not pleasing. It was rough. There was so much mind-breaking pain and torture. So often, the face of a disgustingly looking demon came, followed by pain. Masked people, some cloaked. Whoever bestowed him all that magic, he pitied them for having lived such a life of darkness and fear.
Yet, between all those painful memories were hidden snippets of magic that he could learn. That was how he'd learned everything until now. But a key difference he had noticed was how the people in the memories used a stick to cast spells. And their spells had a greater scale than what he could do.
Of course, he'd tried using sticks, but they never seemed to work. So, all the magic he could use required him to touch the target. Moreover, there were so many potions he'd learned but couldn't replicate, as he hadn't found the right alternatives. Whatever he had currently was made after countless nights of hard work.
Ah! There's one!
Finally, he saw a small flicker of the memory owner's younger life. There, he found a spell that could levitate things. It was exciting, and he tried to learn it right away. It took him many nights to learn it, and as expected, without a stick, he couldn't make distant things levitate.
However, once he had touched something and cast that levitation magic, he could float it around. The speed wasn't that great, but it was something.
Following that was another amusing spell. It was also from the younger days of the memory owner. It could unlock doors and any lock out there. Truly useful and worthy of learning. Thankfully, this one didn't take that long to master. And as usual, he had to touch the door or the lock.
With that, no door or chest was beyond him.
Afterward, he found a spell that could mend broken things. The scale of the spell was massive, however. He saw the memory owner cast it on an entire ruined chamber. Everything just mended itself after that.
Sadly, Bronn couldn't repeat that miracle. All he could do was mend things that he could touch. A small broken tool, key, or anything of tiny scale.
It was still useful as a trick.
Too bad, he couldn't find any fire magic to gather those fire worshippers in Essos. But there was something else as well. A magic that didn't need any spell. A magic that didn't need any stick. He saw the memory owner look into another's eyes and read all their thoughts, the whole mind.
Bronn was excited for it. He tried it on Malora and Unella, and Alerie whenever rutting her. But he never succeeded. He even tried it while kissing, in case physical touch was needed. He still couldn't do it.
In the end, he gave up on it and just practiced what he had learned.
And like that, four weeks passed. He knew Alerie was pregnant already, but it didn't stop him from savoring the finest the Reach had to offer.
####
Olenna Tyrell knew it. She knew what was going on behind closed doors whenever Lord Septon and Alerie met to 'pray'. She knew it was disgusting, wrong, and yet she never uttered a word about it.
She couldn't. She feared the man, for he had shown enough proof of his blessings, and now he even had a hundred armed men ready to die for him. She knew the numbers would grow. A new player had entered Westeros, and nobody had any idea.
Beyond all that, she had another reason. She looked at her grandson walking without any aid. Without those hideous metal frames. She saw her grandson fold his knee and truly… truly walk.
Lord Septon had done what he had promised. And now, she reckoned, Alerie was doing what was demanded in return.
It was hard to reject common sense. Gods weren't real, or bothered with humans anymore, was her past belief. But now… she truly didn't know.
Besides, she found Alerie smiling more often. Whatever happened behind those doors, the girl liked it. It annoyed her, watching her own son act all toady, dancing around the Lord Septon, all the while the said man was most certainly fucking his wife.
But again, she kept her concerns to herself. The Septon would leave eventually. If nobody was truly harmed, she could overlook this matter. As long as Willas walked normally, she was happy.
Happy enough to arrive at the large arena set outside the castle to hold the massive tourney in honor of the Lord Septon and the healing of Willas, the official heir to Highgarden.
So many smallfolk had arrived to watch. So many knights had also chosen to attend. The center of all attention was the Septon, however. Ailed men and women flocked to him, noble or not. During various tourney events, Mace always prepared a second chair as high as his own for the Lord Septon.
All participants knelt to Lord Septon like he were the King.
Olenna watched it all. It made her palms sweaty for some reason. The fame and the influence this single Septon had over the entire southern half of Westeros was immense. What shocked and scared her more was how true it was. How fanatic the people were.
If it were the King sitting there, most men and women would have knelt just for the sake of it. But towards the Lord Septon, they showed absolute submission, smiles on their lips, some with tearful eyes. And whenever he created warm light from his palms, the entire masses knelt and cried. The smallfolk far outnumbered nobles, and she saw the possibility… a very dangerous one.
Olenna Tyrell gulped, seeing all that over the many days of the tourney. Oh, how oblivious the realm was. A beast greater than any dragon, any faith militia, walked amongst them. Yet no lord, no royal was worried.
Woosh!
And finally, it was archery. She watched it with focus since Lord Septon himself was participating in it. All the other men had shot their arrows, and it was the Lord Septon's turn. But, for some reason, the man only held the arrow in his hand, no bow.
"What?!"
Olenna almost jumped to stand up. Every other man, woman, and child there was doing the same. They watched as the lonesome arrow flew off Lord Septon's palm and struck the target dead at the center. It flew slow enough that they all got time to digest.
Thud!
That loud noise earned her attention. She looked and found Mace on his knees, praying, crying. She looked around and sure enough, almost everyone was doing the same. Lords, knights, or smallfolk.
The realm… will belong to him in a few years… if this continues.
She watched the Lord Septon wave, take his earned prize in a pouch. Right then and there, the Lord Septon handed that reward of three thousand gold dragons to utterly poor-looking smallfolk in ragged and dirty clothes.
During that entire time, the arena cheered, prayed, and sang songs of the Seven.
Eventually, the Lord Septon left, walking out of the Arena, back towards the castle. She didn't fail to notice Alerie leaving as well.
And all Olenna could do was… sigh.
Fear, worry, anger, there was so much, yet no way to make sense of it.
####
Plap! Plap! Plap!
"Gah! On knees!"
Bronn stopped pounding Alerie from behind and pulled out urgently. She was already pregnant, so he didn't bother finishing inside her always. Sometimes, it was a joy to watch her drink it all.
"Yes, my Lord Septon."
She had started to use 'my' with his title. It was so warm and endearing that Bronn only needed that to get hard. Her submission was utterly delectable.
"Ummmh~" Alerie gobbled down his fat cock, choking herself like he was divine fruit.
What a view!
Bronn took a deep breath, standing in that lush and green Godswood of Higharden. It was large, covered in trees, flowers, and even some friendly animals.
Having fucked Alerie against a tree, and now feeling her suckle his cock, it was ravishing. He grabbed her head and helped her by fucking her face. She took him, used to it now.
"Ugh… close!"
With that warning, he blasted, pumping thick cream into her throat. She coughed, yet gulped it all down. He kept fucking her face, however, gushing spray after spray, painting her lips, her tongue, her jaw white with his climax.
He fucked her face until he started to turn flaccid, at which point he stopped and let her suck him, lick him, and clean him with her warm tongue. He just watched her moan and lick him.
It should be enough to have Malora join.
"Mmmmh… I shall go first, my Lord Septon." Alerie rose with wobbly feet and wiped her face with a cloth she always kept ready for such occasions.
"Aye, you go first." Bronn nodded and pulled his trousers up, tucking in his clean cock. He watched her walk away, the sway of her round hips already enticing him for that night's 'ritual'.
Alone, he calmed his breath, enjoyed the warm breeze, and—
"Huh?"
With a jolt, he jumped around to look. He felt goosebumps all over himself, hair standing on end. He frowned and looked left and right, seeking the origin of that strange sensation, as if someone was watching him.
But there was nobody. Just the large tree he fucked Alerie against, with its ancient, hideous carved face. There were three more of the same trees, but they had a face even more faded.
What was that?
In the end, he settled on just leaving the place and never taking the risk of fucking Alerie there again.
Time to plan out that bloody castle for myself… uh, Sept of the Seven's Angel… that's more pious.
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