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The Fox Hole 115
🕑 Added 2025-08-30 05:12:40 +0000 UTCChapter 115:
– Haru –
I honestly thought seeing three giant dragons bowing to me would be enough to make an entire invading army think twice before trying anything dumb. But apparently, I gave humans way too much credit. I shook my head slowly in disbelief as I watched hundreds of wild-looking riders start galloping toward us across the sandy beach. Their weapons were drawn, and they yelled fiercely, kicking up clouds of sand as they charged recklessly in our direction.
"Those crazy bastards are called Dothraki," Jaime shouted nervously beside me, gripping his sword so tightly his knuckles turned white. "They're pretty much the craziest, most ruthless warriors in the world. They're pretty much just barbarians that have ridden around reaving and raping across essos for hundreds of years."
Bronn gulped loudly, clearly panicking a bit as he took a half-step backward. "Fantastic! Just my luck. Survive dragons just to get slaughtered by these maniacs," he muttered, glancing at me with wide, worried eyes. "Can you roar at these nutjobs too?"
I shrugged and took a deep, calming breath, trying not to roll my eyes. Honestly, dealing with humans was becoming more annoying by the second. I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs with power and energy, before letting out another ear-splitting roar. It felt like thunder rumbling from deep within my chest, and even the mighty dragons nearby flinched in surprise, their giant heads lowering nervously.
But they weren't the ones I was aiming at this time.
In front of us, the charging Dothraki riders suddenly screamed in shock. I watched with grim satisfaction as every horse instantly went crazy, neighing and shrieking in panic. The animals reared violently, eyes wide with terror, turning around mid-charge and bolting straight back toward the beaches. Riders were thrown off left and right, flying through the air and crashing onto the sandy ground. Some of them were quickly crushed beneath the panicked hooves of their own horses, screaming in agony as they were brutally trampled.
Bronn let out a loud, joyful laugh, jumping up and down in excitement as he pointed at the chaos. "Bloody hell! Would you look at that! Those bastards are getting stomped to pieces by their own horses!" he shouted gleefully, clearly thrilled by the unexpected turn of events.
Jaime, though less expressive, visibly relaxed, his shoulders losing some of their earlier tension. He turned to me "Don't waste your sympathy on these scum, Prince Haru," he said bluntly, glancing coldly at the panicked army. "They're nothing but raping, slaving savages. The world is better off without them..."
What followed after that was about half an hour of painfully dull waiting. The army on the beach seemed completely confused and lost without their dragons and horses. Soldiers were running around, yelling at each other, some even starting to argue loudly. At least they weren’t charging at us anymore, which I was grateful for because dealing with idiots got tiring fast.
Jaime stood near me, his face serious as he watched the chaos below us. “This is the weirdest war I've ever been in. They’re probably busy fighting among themselves. Can't agree whether to surrender or get back on their ships and sail away,” he remarked dryly.
Bronn, meanwhile, had found a comfortable rock to sit on, casually cleaning his fingernails with his dagger. “So, Prince Haru, seeing as we've got nothing better to do, want to hear a good story?”
My ears perked up immediately, curiosity overtaking the boredom. “Definitely. Got anything exciting?”
Bronn laughed. “Oh, you’ll like this one. So, I was down in Sunspear, right? And there was this Dornish woman—married, of course—whose husband was away at war. Let’s just say she wasn’t exactly faithful, and I wasn't exactly picky.”
I chuckled, nodding eagerly for him to continue. Jaime rolled his eyes beside us, pretending not to listen, but I noticed he was leaning slightly closer.
“So, things were going pretty damn amazing,” Bronn continued. “I mean, she was a real wild one. Curves in all the right places, fiery eyes, and let me tell you, the things she could do would make even a sailor blush. We were right in the thick of it, sweating and panting like animals, when all of a sudden, the door downstairs slammed open. Her husband came home early. I was right in the middle of having a damn good time, until I wasn't!”
"I'm not even remotely surprised..." Jamie sighed.
“What’d you do next?” I asked.
Bronn chuckled, scratching his stubble. “What any smart guy would do—jumped out the nearest window! Only problem was, I didn't have time to grab my clothes! And their home was right in the middle of Sunspear! Completely butt naked, I landed right in the middle of a busy market street!”
I burst out laughing, easily picturing Bronn's wild escape. Jaime coughed beside us, clearly trying not to laugh.
Bronn continued, clearly enjoying our reactions. “So there I was, running stark naked through the crowded streets of Sunspear, with this nobleman chasing after me, waving a sword and screaming bloody murder. Everyone in the market just stopped and stared.”
I laughed harder, shaking my head in disbelief. “Did he ever catch you?”
“Nah, I got lucky,” Bronn said with a smug grin. “Managed to duck into an alley, and hid inside a stable under a pile of hay and horse dung. Smelled worse than death, but it worked. I waited there until it got dark, then snuck out, stole some clothes from a clothesline, and got the hell out of Sunspear! Ah, good times...” he finished.
"Now that was quite the story, Bronn," I said, shaking my head in amusement. "Did that really happen?"
Bronn leaned back casually, a cocky smirk playing on his lips. "Every single word," he said confidently, looking proud of himself. His eyes suddenly darted toward Jaime, and his smirk widened even more mischievously. "And don't worry, Prince Haru, no need to ask the Kingslayer about his adventures. We all know he's been busy getting cozy with his sister."
Jaime’s face turned dark red instantly, and he scowled deeply. "Bronn," he growled angrily, clearly annoyed. "You better watch your damn mouth."
Bronn ignored Jaime completely, turning his attention back to me with a curious gleam in his eye. "But enough about him. Now it's your turn, Prince Haru. Surely a royal fox prince like yourself must have some interesting bedroom stories. Spill it—what’s your biggest scandal?"
I sighed, rolling my eyes playfully even as my lips curled into a fond smile at the memory. "Well, if we're talking about scandal, last night definitely takes the cake," I admitted honestly.
"Oh? What happened?" he asked.
"Last night, I found out that I accidentally got my girlfriend Naruko, her mother Kushina, pregnant at the same exact time."
Both Bronn and Jaime froze, their eyes widening in utter disbelief. Jaime's mouth dropped open as if he'd forgotten how to close it.
Bronn suddenly burst out laughing, his shoulders shaking as he held his sides. He gave me an exaggerated bow. "Prince Haru, I am truly not worthy! I have tried, and the gods know I have, but I have never succeeded in the fabled mother-daughter ménage à trois! Only my last boss has ever succeeded in such a thing!"
"Why do you know that!? You know what... you clearly spent way too much time serving under my younger brother," Jaime muttered.
Bronn just chuckled again, looking completely unapologetic as he shook his head casually. Suddenly, his eyes caught something in the distance, and he straightened up quickly. "Oh damn, speaking of your brother, is that the imp riding up toward us now on horseback?" He squinted slightly, leaning forward to get a better look. "Well, I'll be damned—it really is Tyrion. Thought he was dead, I did..."
"WHAT-" Before Jaime could even respond more, Bronn let out a loud, appreciative whistle, his eyes growing wider as they moved to the figure riding beside Tyrion.
"Holy shit, is that the dragon queen herself? Just look at that face—she’s even prettier up close. Her tits aren't quite as big as the rumors said, unfortunately, but I can forgive that," he commented unashamed. "That long flowing silver hair, though, combined with that tight armor she's wearing, more than makes up for it. Now that’s a queen I wouldn’t mind bending her knees for me."
"Don't you mean you'd bend the knee to her?" I asked with a playful chuckle.
"Nah, Prince Haru, I know exactly what I said," he insisted shamelessly.
Ah, so he did...
Jaime scowled again, opening his mouth to argue further, but before he could speak, my attention shifted to the approaching group of riders. They had gotten much closer now, and we could clearly see their faces. Jaime sighed irritably, confirming what we'd already suspected. "Of course, it's Tyrion," he muttered, his jaw tightening slightly as he recognized his brother on horseback.
Three people rode up to us, horses kicking up sand as they slowed to a stop a few feet away. Jaime's dwarf brother Tyrion sat atop a rather small horse. Next to him rode a woman who was clearly the dragon queen herself—Daenerys.
Beside Daenerys was an older knight, weathered and grim-faced. His eyes shifted repeatedly from Jaime—whom he openly glared at—to me, looking deeply suspicious and wary. He fidgeted nervously with his reins. I could practically see the gears turning in his head, trying to figure out just what the hell I was.
Daenerys leaned slightly forward on her saddle, straightening her posture as if trying to project authority. Her expression hardened, masking any surprise she must've felt. "What exactly are you?" Daenerys asked me bluntly, “and what sorcery have you used on MY dragons!” she added with a very hostile tone.
…The dragons nearby shifted nervously on the sand, whining pitifully toward their so-called mother. They kept throwing worried looks my way, eyes wide with obvious terror. Their massive bodies trembled slightly, and their leathery wings twitched anxiously.
They were clearly terrified, begging her not to upset "the scary fox-man monster."
Of course, I was the only one there who understood what the dragons were actually saying. To everyone else, it sounded like sad, pitiful whimpering noises, like puppies scared of thunder. Honestly, it was almost funny—huge, fearsome dragons acting like frightened little kittens.
But Daenerys clearly didn't find it funny at all.
Her pretty face hardened into a fierce scowl. Her violet eyes flashed angrily at the sound of her dragons' fearful cries, and she suddenly swung one leg smoothly over her saddle, dropping elegantly onto the sand. Honestly, the glare just made her look sexier.
I had to give her credit. Most humans ran away when confronted with things they didn't understand. She didn't. She marched right toward me, never once losing eye contact.
Behind her, the older knight looked panicked, like he wanted to reach out and stop her but was too afraid to actually do it.
Daenerys strode right up, stopping only a single foot away. She tilted her chin upward defiantly to meet my gaze, since I was taller than her. For a brief second, I glanced down, noticing again that Bronn had a point—her tits weren't the largest, but that armor definitely hugged them nicely. She certainly knew how to present herself.
Realizing I was probably staring a little too long, I brought my gaze back up to her eyes, noticing the furious spark in them.
"What foul sorcery did you use on MY dragons?" Daenerys demanded fiercely, practically spitting out each word. Her voice was clear, loud, and angry as hell. "Release my children from your filthy mind magic immediately!"
I couldn't help but grin at her boldness. Honestly, fearless women always caught my attention. It took guts to confront a strange, ten-tailed fox demon who’d just forced her dragons to bow down.
From behind her, Tyrion quickly cleared his throat, leaning forward anxiously on his small horse. "Daenerys," he warned carefully, his voice tense, "perhaps a bit more caution might be wise here? We don't yet know the full capabilities of this... being?"
They didn't? I just defeated her so-called dragons and that entire Dothraki horde simply by shouting at them.
The older knight nodded quickly. "The imp is right, Your Grace," he added in a gruff voice, gripping the hilt of his sword anxiously. "I've faced many strange foes, but nothing quite like this creature. Please, be careful!"
Daenerys didn't even glance back at them, her violet eyes locked fiercely onto mine. She just raised her chin defiantly and stepped even closer, ignoring their warnings completely.
Considering how many beautiful, demanding women were already in my life—and two of them newly pregnant—I figured I'd better approach this a bit more carefully than usual.
Instead, I let some of my natural playful fox instincts kick in. "Sorry, dragon queen," I teased. "But I didn't use any magic or sorcery on your dragons. They're just naturally scared of how incredibly awesome I am."
"Do not mock me, creature!" she snapped harshly, jabbing one slender finger roughly toward my chest, though she stopped just short of touching me. "No dragon bows without reason. Explain yourself! Who and what are you!"
"..."
That's when Jaime suddenly stepped forward, clearing his throat loudly enough to catch everyone's attention. "He's the King of Westeros," Jaime announced calmly, his voice carrying easily through the tense silence.
My eyes widened in disbelief as I turned sharply toward Jaime. "Wait—what?" I asked.
Jaime merely shrugged. "I quit. You can have it," he said. "You already rule the North and the Riverlands anyway. Now you have everything. Congratulations."
Bronn looked at Jaime incredulously. "Can you even do that? Just give away a whole bloody kingdom?"
Jaime raised an eyebrow and gave a nonchalant nod. "I just did," he replied simply, folding his arms as if the entire matter was settled.
Daenerys, Tyrion, and the knight were all sputtering in shock. Tyrion's jaw practically dropped open, his eyes wide with disbelief as he stared at his brother. "Jaime, what in seven hells are you talking about? Since when were you ever the king? What happened to Cersei?" he demanded, clearly confused and overwhelmed.
Daenerys turned sharply towards me, her violet eyes burning with suspicion and irritation. "And why exactly are you the ruler of the Riverlands and the North? Who gave you the right to claim those lands?" she questioned harshly, arms crossed tightly across her chest.
Jaime sighed heavily. "It's simple, really. Haru here kidnapped Cersei—and after she was gone, I ended up having to take over the throne. Honestly, I never wanted the bloody thing."
Daenerys shook her head sharply, clearly losing patience. "This joke isn't funny," she snapped, her voice tight with irritation. Her violet eyes flashed dangerously as she glared between Jaime, Tyrion, and me, obviously not believing any of what she'd just heard.
Bronn let out a carefree laugh and shrugged casually, completely unfazed by her anger. "It is what it is, sweet tits," he said bluntly, his grin broadening as he leaned back, utterly at ease. Daenerys whipped her head around to glare at him furiously.
"Who the fuck are you?" she demanded.
Tyrion sighed, rubbing his temples wearily. "That's Bronn," he explained bluntly, not even bothering to hide his irritation at the mercenary's antics. "He has a knack for saying the exact wrong thing at the exact wrong time."
Bronn waved cheerfully at Daenerys. "Hi, I'm Bronn," he said playfully, clearly enjoying her angry reaction.
The older knight climbed down from his horse, looking pale and shaken. He stood there, staring at me with wide, bewildered eyes, clearly struggling to grasp the reality of what he was hearing. I could see the confusion and dread etched across his weathered features as he nervously adjusted his armor.
"By the gods," he muttered under his breath, voice trembling slightly with disbelief and shock. "Do I actually have to swear allegiance to some kind of fox monster if he's the king now? Is this some sort of cruel jest from the heavens?" He glanced around anxiously, as if hoping someone might reassure him that none of this was actually happening.
"You can pray to those gods all you want," I said casually, offering a slight shrug as my ten golden tails swayed leisurely behind me. "But I'm pretty sure they packed up and ran away a long time ago. Probably got tired of all the insanity around here."
Bronn let out a snort of laughter, clearly amused. "You know what? That actually explains so much," he remarked dryly, scratching his stubble thoughtfully. "No wonder this whole damned continent's gone to shit."
Daenerys shot me a skeptical glare. "I never believed in them in the first place!"
Tyrion merely raised an eyebrow, his clever eyes flickering thoughtfully as he studied me. I could practically see the gears turning inside his head as he weighed my outrageous claim against everything he'd ever known about the world.
Jaime shook his head slowly, letting out a quiet snort of disbelief. He clearly thought the whole conversation was absurd. With a sigh of resignation, he turned away slightly, clearly done engaging with what he considered ridiculous nonsense.
The older knight, meanwhile, appeared genuinely distressed, visibly pale and shaken. He continued to mumble anxiously under his breath, shifting nervously from foot to foot. "Abandoned by the gods... I've served them all my life... How can this be?" he muttered weakly, glancing around as if searching desperately for reassurance or comfort that clearly wasn't coming.
"Do you guys need more time to discuss your surrender...?" I asked them. I can ask that because I'm king now…? Fuck, I get where Jamie is coming from. I don't really want to be king either!
My question clearly struck a nerve, especially with Daenerys. Her lips tightened into a thin, furious line. She turned abruptly, her long silver hair whipping dramatically behind her as she stormed back toward her horse. I couldn't help but admire the view—her shapely hips moved gracefully beneath her fitted armor.
Tyrion sighed deeply, clearly exasperated by the entire situation. He cast one last curious glance my way, seeming uncertain whether to feel intimidated or intrigued. He then guided his smaller horse back around, muttering something to the knight beside him that I couldn't quite make out.
The older knight gave me one last wary, suspicious glare before climbing stiffly back onto his steed, his movements tense and rigid. He visibly hesitated, clearly unsettled about turning his back on what he saw as a dangerous unknown, but ultimately followed his queen's lead.
Daenerys swung herself effortlessly back into her saddle, posture rigid and clearly annoyed. Her gaze briefly met mine, fierce and defiant.
I offered her a playful wink in response, unable to resist teasing her just a bit further. Her cheeks flushed slightly, whether from anger or embarrassment I wasn't quite sure, but either way, it was satisfying to see her so off balance.
As their group rode slowly back toward their camp, I watched their retreat thoughtfully, my tails swishing lazily behind me. Jaime let out a tired sigh, shaking his head in resigned disbelief, while Bronn chuckled beside me, clearly amused.
"Well, Prince Haru, you've certainly got a way with women," Bronn remarked dryly, elbowing me lightly in the ribs.
I laughed quietly, shaking my head. "Trust me, Bronn, sometimes making them a little angry just makes things more interesting."
Bronn snorted, grinning broadly. "A man after my own heart," he said cheerfully.
– Daenerys –
Daenerys stormed into the large canvas tent. She paced the soft carpet that had been laid out to cover the sand beneath, each step radiating her frustration.
"Who in all the seven kingdoms does that fox creature think he is?" she growled, her voice sharp enough to cut steel. "Arrogant, smug, completely disrespectful! And yet, somehow—" she paused abruptly, biting back the next words as an angry flush rose to her cheeks. Yes he was handsome, but she still hated him!
Tyrion sat calmly in a wooden chair, a goblet of wine held loosely in his hand. His clever eyes followed her movements, an amused yet wary glint in them. "Your Grace," he said slowly, carefully choosing his words. "It's undeniable the creature possesses immense power. Provoking him further may not be wise. Perhaps diplomacy—"
"Diplomacy!" Daenerys snapped back, glaring sharply at her advisor. "He mocked me openly, Tyrion. He humiliated my dragons—my children—and he expects me to just accept it? No, I refuse."
Ser Selmy, standing nearby, cleared his throat nervously. His face was pale, reflecting his continued unease from the earlier encounter. "My Queen, if I may, caution is indeed advisable. This Haru, whatever he truly is, controls forces we've never seen."
Daenerys halted her pacing and spun on her heels to face him, eyes blazing defiantly. "Forces? He had my dragons quivering in fear, practically bowing before him like trained dogs. Dragons bow to no one but me!" Her voice rose sharply, raw emotion tightening her throat.
Tyrion exchanged a quick, wary glance with Selmy before addressing her again, his voice softer this time, almost pleading. "Daenerys, perhaps we can try to find out more about this Haru."
She glowered at him, arms tightly crossed beneath her lightly armored chest, clearly fighting a reluctant internal battle between pride and reason. "I hate to admit it," she finally said, voice barely above a whisper, "but he intrigues me as much as he infuriates me. How did he acquire such power? And how can we counteract it?"
Varys suddenly slipped into the tent startling them all momentarily. He'd undoubtedly been lingering outside, shamelessly eavesdropping.
Daenerys whirled around sharply, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. "Varys," she snapped irritably, clearly annoyed at being caught unaware, "just how long have you been standing out there, listening to us?"
Varys merely inclined his bald head politely, a faint, knowing smile on his thin lips. "Your Grace, as always, I was merely gathering intelligence. It is my purpose, after all," he replied calmly, spreading his hands slightly in an innocent gesture. "Regarding this being known as Haru, the information I have managed to collect is both incredibly scarce and absurdly abundant simultaneously."
Tyrion raised an eyebrow skeptically, swirling the wine in his goblet thoughtfully. "That's rather contradictory, don't you think? Care to explain further, Spider?"
Varys clasped his hands neatly before him, his expression carefully neutral, but his eyes glittered with intrigue. "My little birds have returned with reports that stretch the limits of believability," he explained slowly, clearly savoring the attention. "Some whispers claim that Haru is not merely a powerful being, but indeed a deity, an actual god."
"A god?" Daenerys scoffed derisively, rolling her eyes with obvious disbelief. "You cannot honestly expect us to believe such nonsense."
"And yet, Your Grace, there's more," Varys continued calmly, unperturbed by her skepticism. "Some have even claimed Haru defeated and consumed the Drowned God itself."
A stunned silence fell over the tent. Selmy visibly paled, shifting uneasily as if such blasphemous talk physically distressed him. Tyrion sat back heavily in his chair, suddenly serious, and Daenerys stared at Varys, eyes wide with shock.
"Ridiculous," she muttered weakly, though the faint tremor in her voice betrayed her uncertainty. "Surely those are mere wild tales, meant to frighten and confuse us."
Varys sighed deeply, his usually unflappable demeanor showing rare signs of discomfort as he prepared to speak further. "...Unfortunately, Your Grace, there might actually be some truth to those wild tales. I have personally seen the remains of what many have claimed to be the Drowned God," he admitted gravely, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid to speak louder might somehow invoke further trouble. "It was a kraken, enormous beyond imagination, easily the size of a small island. The Ironborn, notorious for their resilience and savagery, have been strangely subdued and melancholy since its death. Their infamous raiding has noticeably decreased."
A heavy silence settled over the tent once more, broken only by Tyrion's awkward attempt at levity. "Well, let's make sure Ashia doesn't hear any of this. She might start believing all our mad tales and then where would we be?" he quipped half-heartedly, clearly trying to lighten the oppressive mood. "...You know, because it's her ships we've all been sailing with..." he finished weakly.
Daenerys ignored Tyrion's joke, her eyes fixed intently on Varys, processing his words with visible effort. Finally breaking her silence, Daenerys exhaled slowly, the tension briefly leaving her shoulders before returning tenfold. "If what you say is true, Varys, then our situation is far graver than I feared," she murmured darkly, her voice cold and sharp. "A being who can kill gods... How do I fight that? And then Tyrion's brother went and made him the freaking KING!?"
Varys sputtered at the revelation, his usually serene face flushed with indignation and disbelief. He turned sharply toward Tyrion, eyes wide and blinking rapidly as he tried to regain some composure. "Jaime simply gave away the entire Seven Kingdoms without a second thought!? When!?"
"Around 20 minutes ago... Knowing Jaime, he likely saw the throne as nothing more than an inconvenience—a nuisance he was eager to shed. He never truly desired power or responsibility. Giving the crown away casually fits his character perfectly." Tyrion shrugged.
Varys shook his head vehemently, clearly struggling to accept this casual dismissal of royal power. "This isn't some trivial matter, Tyrion! One cannot simply give away an entire continent because they feel inconvenienced!"
Daenerys paced restlessly, frustration etched deeply on her face as she considered her options. Her armies, the powerful forces she had meticulously gathered, now seemed utterly powerless against this unforeseen adversary. Even her dragons, her most trusted and fearsome weapons, had been humbled and rendered useless by this fox creature.
It was a bitter reality she struggled desperately to accept.
"What do I do now, Tyrion?" she demanded sharply, stopping abruptly to fix her intense violet eyes on her advisor. "How do I reclaim what is rightfully mine when everything I've worked so hard to build has become meaningless against this—this Haru?"
Tyrion shifted slightly in his chair, his expression thoughtful yet somewhat playful. "Well, Your Grace," he began, his voice carefully balanced between sincerity and humor, "have you considered marriage? A union could secure your position without more conflict." He went to refill his empty wine cup and took a sip.
Daenerys scowled darkly, crossing her arms defensively across her chest. "Marriage? You would suggest I marry this arrogant fox prince, who mocks me openly and flaunts his power over my dragons?"
Tyrion shrugged lightly, raising his goblet in a subtle toast. "It’s certainly an efficient way to consolidate power without bloodshed," he pointed out mildly. "Sometimes, diplomacy requires… uncomfortable compromises."
Before Daenerys could voice further objections, Varys interjected smoothly. "There is also the matter of his current marital arrangements," he noted carefully. "My informants tell me Haru is already married—to both Sansa Stark and her mother, Catelyn Stark. It is precisely this marriage that granted him authority over the North and the Riverlands."
Tyrion nearly choked on his wine, sputtering indignantly as he bolted upright in his chair. "What? Sansa…? Sansa Stark is my wife!" he protested weakly.
Daenerys remembered vaguely hearing about that...?
She thinks...?
Varys arched a slender eyebrow at Tyrion, his expression impassive yet clearly inquisitive. "Forgive me, Lord Tyrion, but did you ever consummate that marriage?"
Tyrion's cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment, and he slumped back, grumbling reluctantly. "No," he admitted sourly. "She was far too young at the time."
Daenerys waved impatiently, cutting off Tyrion's grumbling with a sharp gesture. "The question remains," she said firmly, her gaze unyielding, "whether marrying this Haru is a strategy I could even consider."
Varys inclined his head thoughtfully. "It would certainly neutralize him as an adversary and solidify your claim in Westeros. But it would also mean sharing your throne—and your authority—with him. And some sister wives, apparently..."
– Haru –
Normally, in a situation like this, I'd offer to cook up a meal, but since we'd already eaten, we settled on simply relaxing in the sand. We found a sturdy log to serve as our makeshift table, and I conjured up a deck of cards to pass the time.
Jaime initially welcomed the distraction. Unfortunately for him, the distraction soon turned into yet another source of frustration.
Bronn, sitting across from us, smirked confidently as he shuffled the cards with practiced ease. His nimble fingers moved with deceptive simplicity, but I caught the subtle flicker of cards being cleverly hidden and rearranged.
Not that I was any better—I subtly manipulated my cards with faint traces of fox magic, altering their appearances and values as needed.
Jaime, completely unaware of our dual deception, stared down at his losing hand once again, a vein in his forehead visibly throbbing.
"Bloody hell, this is ridiculous!" Jaime growled, throwing his cards down in disgust. "I've played cards with hardened criminals who cheat less than you two."
Bronn chuckled, casually picking up Jaime's discarded cards and reshuffling the deck with a relaxed air. "Come now, Ser Jaime, there's no shame in losing to superior skill," he teased, eyes glinting mischievously. "Or in this case, superior cunning."
I laughed softly, drawing another hand for myself and offering Jaime a sympathetic grin. "Maybe your luck will change on the next hand," I suggested innocently, barely suppressing my amusement.
Jaime narrowed his eyes suspiciously at us both, but sighed deeply, grudgingly taking up another set of cards. "Luck? Luck abandoned me long before today," he muttered darkly, examining his cards with growing skepticism.
"You're kind of bumming me out," I told Jaime lightly.
I reached into my magical storage space and pulled out a fresh, warm chocolate chip cookie. Its scent filled the air immediately, sweet and tempting. "Here, have a cookie," I offered, holding it out to him with a friendly smile.
Jaime eyed the cookie suspiciously for a brief moment, then let out a defeated sigh, reluctantly reaching out to accept it with his left hand, his one functional limb. "Fine," he grumbled sourly, clearly still irritated but obviously tempted by the treat. He took a cautious bite, chewing slowly at first.
Then, suddenly, Jaime's eyes widened dramatically in surprise, and he let out an exaggerated gasp, the cookie still half in his mouth. "What in seven hells—" he began, but his words were abruptly cut off as his golden prosthetic hand suddenly loosened and fell to the sand below with a soft thud.
Bronn jumped back slightly, eyes bulging in shock and alarm. "What the fuck is happening now?" he demanded, his usual composure shattered completely.
"Just wait," I told him calmly, a smirk tugging at the corners of my lips as I watched Jaime's face intently.
Jaime stared down at his right arm in astonishment, barely able to form words. From the exposed stump, new muscle began rapidly growing, sinew and flesh shooting outward with astonishing speed. The skin stretched and sealed seamlessly, covering the new, fully restored hand.
"Holy fuck!" Bronn shouted, stumbling back even further, clearly overwhelmed by what he had just witnessed.
Jaime flexed his fingers experimentally, mouth hanging open in disbelief. "Is this real?" he whispered hoarsely, his voice trembling slightly as he tested the strength and flexibility of his newly healed hand. "How did you—"
"Magic cookie," I answered simply, smiling with satisfaction at my handiwork. "It heals wounds, even old ones. Thought it might cheer you up a little."
Jaime stared at me incredulously for a long moment, his eyes filling with a mix of disbelief and profound gratitude. Slowly, a genuine smile crept onto his face. "Thank you, Haru," Jaime finally said sincerely, clenching and unclenching his fingers repeatedly, clearly amazed by the sensation. "I never thought I'd have this again."
Bronn, still visibly shaken, finally composed himself enough to approach us cautiously, eyeing Jaime's new hand warily. "Any chance you’ve got more of those magic cookies, Prince Haru?" he asked hopefully, a greedy gleam in his eyes.
I chuckled lightly, reaching back into my storage space and producing another cookie, which I handed to Bronn. "Here, but don't get your hopes up," I teased playfully. "It only works on actual injuries, not your wounded pride after losing at cards."
Bronn took the cookie eagerly, sniffing it appreciatively before shoving it in his mouth. He sighed dramatically in disappointment after swallowing. "Shame, I was hoping it would make me richer or better looking."
Bronn eagerly shoved the cookie into his mouth, barely taking the time to chew before swallowing. He paused for a moment, a peculiar look crossing his rugged face. He placed a hand on his stomach and frowned slightly, his eyes narrowing as if he was trying to pinpoint something strange.
"My insides feel all tingly and shit," he muttered, clearly puzzled.
I chuckled lightly, not overly concerned but mildly amused by his reaction. "You probably had some kind of hidden disease or something you didn't even know about. The cookie just healed it."
Bronn's eyes went wide in alarm, his voice rising slightly with exaggerated panic. "What kind of bloody disease could I have had without knowing? You trying to scare the piss out of me, fox prince?"
"Relax," I laughed, waving off his concern casually. "It's probably nothing serious. Maybe just a small tumor or something equally mundane."
Bronn let out an exaggerated sigh of relief, rolling his eyes dramatically as he straightened up and brushed imaginary dirt from his armor. "Oh, just a tumor. Yeah, not terrifying at all! Thanks for the reassurance."
Jaime snorted softly beside me, shaking his head with a bemused expression as he flexed his newly regenerated hand once more. "Consider yourself lucky, Bronn. Whatever it was, at least it's gone now."
Bronn grinned, regaining his composure swiftly as he shot Jaime a cocky smirk. "Guess I've gotta HAND it to you, Jaime—your cookie trick wins. But don't think this means I'll let you win at cards."
Jaime chuckled despite himself, glancing down fondly at his restored hand.
The sound of approaching hooves disrupted the moment. We all turned our heads sharply toward the direction of the incoming riders. Jaime visibly tensed again, his healed hand instinctively reaching for the sword at his side.
We could see Daenerys approaching again, but for some reason, she was completely alone this time.
And she had changed her outfit…?
The afternoon sun highlighted every curve of her body as she rode towards us, her sleek white dress clinging to her like a second skin. It emphasized the modest swell of her perky breasts, which bounced gently with each step of her horse, and outlined her slender waist and rounded hips in tantalizing detail. Her legs, long and toned, stretched elegantly down the sides of her steed, the skirt of her dress riding up to reveal smooth, flawless thighs.
She pulled the horse to a graceful halt, effortlessly swinging one leg over the saddle, allowing me a generous glimpse of her shapely thighs. As she dismounted, the fabric of her dress tightened briefly around her body, highlighting every tempting curve she possessed.
Her movements were intentionally slow, seductive, and designed to captivate.
Daenerys sauntered towards me, her violet eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that sent a thrilling shiver down my spine. Her lips curved upward slightly in a sultry, confident smirk, clearly aware of exactly what effect she was having on me. Her hair cascaded in silvery waves down her back, catching the sunlight and creating an almost ethereal glow around her beautiful face.
She was undeniably gorgeous before, but now she looked breathtaking, practically radiating raw sensuality.
Jaime shifted uncomfortably beside me, clearing his throat and pointedly looking away, clearly trying—and failing—to maintain a respectful distance from her provocative display. Bronn, however, openly gaped, his mouth slightly ajar as he drank in every inch of her approaching form with unabashed appreciation.
Stopping mere inches away from me, Daenerys tilted her chin slightly upward, gazing directly into my eyes, her breath warm against my face. "Marry me, Prince Haru!" she stated boldly.
I blinked in surprise, momentarily taken aback by her sudden and blunt proposal. It wasn't every day a beautiful queen practically threw herself at me, especially after previously showing nothing but defiant hostility.
I could feel Bronn's jealous stare burning into my back, and Jaime let out a low, incredulous grunt beside me, clearly disbelieving what he'd just heard.
Still, as tempting as the offer was—and it was incredibly tempting—I knew my life was already complicated enough.
My response was immediate and flat, almost startling even to myself.
"No..."
XXX
Comments
Ototsu_Yume
She should be 25 here if this follows the TV version, I think she died at 17 in the book version though. Granted things tend to get murky between book and tv since Sansa was 11 at the start of the series in the books for instance.
Ivan
"My response was immediate and flat, almost startling even to myself." - also, she should be 15-16 years old 😅
The Milf Emperor
Start a silver hair collection of girls starting with her
