He never imagined his first trip as a septon would be like this. And he really wasn't complaining. But he sure loved teasing this woman. Just feeling her tight cunt snugly choke his cock was enough to make his knees weak.
"You are… with my babe… You know that?"
"Um-hum…" Elia moaned, voice low. "That doesn't mean we must stop."
Pa!
He softly slapped both hands on her tight ass. He pulled her harder into him, plunging his shaft balls deep and held her there while spilling for the nth time that day. He didn't mind doing this with her at all.
"Hmmmm…" Elia, as if addicted to feeling his warm thickness inside, just stayed there, letting his spill coat her walls and throb inside her. She wrapped her arms around his head and pressed her face against his neck, dotting kisses.
Bronn liked that attention. A noble woman of the highest caliber reduced to a nobody septon's cocksleeve. He kneaded her shapely, firm ass while he waited for his cock to turn limp and slide out of her.
"You are… truly a blessed man," Elia mumbled near his ear. "I can feel it… my body. It's better than ever. I don't feel tired anymore."
Bronn moved his head slightly and made her sit straight so he could look at her gorgeous face. There was nothing more exotic in Westeros than a Dornish princess. Or perhaps a Targaryen princess, but that dream was now crushed.
"You needed that strength to go through childbirth."
"And you gave it to me. I will never forget this, Bronn. Dorne's doors will forever be open to you. I'll swear on our child's name."
Our? She really likes saying that, doesn't she?
Smiling, he pushed her off his lap.
"Best get up to the deck before they start sniffing about. Remember the blessings and prayers I told you. And if someone gets grabby, tell me. I'm proficient in all types of swords."
Elia chuckled, an impossible reaction to earn from her, considering her traumatizing experience in King's Landing. But perhaps by sharing it with Bronn, she was already starting to overcome it.
After cleaning up, the two went up for some fresh air. Since it was a trading ship, there weren't that many people on board. It was mostly the ship crew and a rare few travelers.
"Aaaaaaaaah!
Thud!
Suddenly, a sailor fell from above, from one of the two masts. It was a hard fall that made Elia flinch and grab Bronn's arm. The men surrounded the fallen sailor, who was groaning in pain.
"Move!"
The ship captain came over in a rush and checked.
Bronn joined at that point. The leg was broken, twisted in an unnatural way from the knee. The rest of the body seemed fine.
Time for a show.
The easiest way to enter a noble's court was to gain fame. And healers were amongst the most sought-after experts in Westeros. And Bronn had a double advantage of being a septon.
"Septa Emma." Bronn raised his voice. "I can help this man. Will you bring my medicine bag from the cabin?"
Elia warmly nodded and rushed away. When she returned, she had a small animal skin bag in her arms. She handed it to Bronn quickly.
"Move aside." Bronn tried to walk through the men.
"Who are you, boy? A healer?" the captain questioned.
Elia chimed in right then. "He is Bronn the Blessed. You sailed all the way from King's Landing, and no one whispered his name?"
She's clever. Bronn liked the way Elia helped him.
Bronn the Blessed was a legend that had already spread amongst the smallfolks of King's Landing. Sadly, nobles were hard to lure in with mere legends, as they were naturally more suspicious of everything hard to understand.
"You're Bronn the Blessed?" The captain exclaimed. "I thought he was seven feet tall, made of pure muscle and might, and a godly halo traveled behind his head wherever he went."
"..."
The… Rumors have gone too far, I guess.
"Aye, I'm Septon Bronn, 'the Blessed' is a name that the people gave me. Let me tend to the poor sod. A man without a leg's as good as buried." Bronn acted all noble and holy and sat down beside the groaning man. "I need four strong arms. Hold him. Tight. Wriggle, and he's done. Wedge something in his teeth. Seven save his tongue. This is gonna sting."
The fellow sailors moved fast and did as Bronn ordered.
Moments later, Bronn took out a small crystal vial from his bag. It looked expensive and precious. And sure enough, when he removed its head, the scent was noticeable. It was distinct, yet strange.
Bronn didn't bother too much and made the sailors remove the injured sailor's trousers. Then, Bronn rubbed that unknown liquid on the broken leg. Under his breath, he started to mutter a spell he'd learned from the memories. It was barely understandable to him, but he felt he could do it alright.
"Bra… Em…" his speech was inaudible.
"WHAT!"
"SEVEN!"
Reactions were immediate. The magic was too otherworldly. Too visible. The broken leg started to move on its own, slowly turning back to its original shape instead of that hideous twist. The sailor roared, crying in pain as the leg slowly healed.
"O Mother mild with mercy deep,
Who guards us all when we must weep,
With hands so soft, yet strong as stone,
Bind bone to bone, make flesh your own."
Thud!
A few sailors around Bronn fell to their knees and broke out in loud prayers, eyes filled with tears as if Bronn were the Mother incarnate himself. Instead of praying to the Seven, they prayed to the miracle itself.
"Let pain dissolve in quiet grace,
And light return to this lost face.
Wrap his pain in mercy's thread,
And soothe the cries the hurt have bled."
Finally, the sailor stopped crying in pain. The broken leg rested normally, as it should.
"Release him," Bronn ordered.
The sailor sat up and looked at his leg. Instinctively, he turned it left and right, and lifted it like he was doing it for the first time. He then raised it and rotated it.
"I… I feel no pain!" The sailor shouted, and jumped to hug Bronn. "Thank you, thank you, Septon! You are blessed! The most blessed, aye, you are! Gods, you saved me!"
Bronn patted him back and stood up. It was an intoxicating feeling to be worshiped like that. Seeing the sailors around him pray or cry at the miracle.
I wonder how the Martells will react. And the Tyrells?
"Seven's grace! You should've told me who you are." The captain hugged Bronn as well.
And just like that, Bronn and Elia received a room upgrade. From a tiny cabin, they reached a real room, still small, but now it had two single-person beds with space in the middle. Though they only ever used one single bed, making it creak along with their moans and squelches.
Over the next five days, Bronn and Elia were treated like royalty on that ship. They received the best food and the best treatment.
Eating, walking on the deck, and rutting the Princess. That was his daily schedule. He loved doing the last one, and he did it until he couldn't anymore.
"Umm…"
The last night on that ship, he fucked her for hours upon hours. On the table, folded underneath him, lifted in the air, or on all fours. He did her in every way imaginable. Then, they lay down in the bed, naked, and kissed each other for hours while making small talk.
She once again asked him to stay in Sunspear.
He once again told her he needed to keep moving.
But promises were made. That she would never forget what he did for her.
He promised that he wouldn't forget her. It was hard to forget her anyway; fucking and breeding royalty was a lifetime achievement. Not to mention, she was rather delicious in bed.
Martells down, I guess. Tyrells are next, and then… Lannisters will be hard.
Bronn had his own plans in the end. Not just the crown, he wanted them all to stand beneath his feet.
Snogging, cuddling, and eventually, the two fell asleep in each other's arms.
####
Sunspear,
"This cannot stand, Doran! It must not. They… She was our sister, Doran! Our sister! T-They killed her… so brutally." Oberyn Martell grieved, eyes red with anger and pain. "We must stand against this injustice. Now the Lannisters walk free. Pardoned by that Baratheon. Is that justice? Is that what we are meant to accept?!"
"Peace, Oberyn. My heart burns no less than yours, but we are not free to act on fury alone. The crown holds many swords. If Dorne draws steel now, we do so against all the rest."
"So we should just accept it and sit silent?!"
Knock! Knock!
A guard peeked inside Prince Doran's solar. "My Prince… there's something you'll want to see. We found a woman inside the castle walls. No one knows how she got in. Says she's Princess Elia Martell."
"..."
"What?!"
The two brothers shouted together.
"Where?!"
They shouted together again.
####
By the Father's sack, that's sorted. My work here is done.
Bronn felt relieved that he got Elia into the castle without being seen or found out outside the castle. He didn't want to be labeled as the Septon who helped Elia escape. Robert would come after his head personally.
Now, he was waiting to receive a small reward for the expenses he incurred. He really needed it to continue on his journey to the Reach. His savings were down significantly while caring for a princess.
For now, he just stood alone in a massive hallway. Prince Doran and Prince Oberyn had arrived and recognized their sister instantly. They had dragged her away to a private chamber, leaving him standing alone.
Seven bloody hells, how long are they gonna take? Fuck, I don't have the coin to spend the night here.
Clank!
"You!"
He was woken up from his thoughts by two metallic clanks and a rough voice. He gazed and found two tall men in armor, one on each side.
"Thank the Stranger, took you long enough. Can I leave now?"
"No." One of the guards said. "Prince's orders. You stay in the dungeon till he says otherwise."
"What? Why?" Bronn's hand instinctively went for his sword.
But the two guards aimed their spears at his face.
"Don't make this hard on yourself, Septon."
Bronn's jaw tightened. The anger he had suppressed. The loathing he contained towards the nobles. It was returning. Whatever change Elia had brought in him faded away. He had saved Elia, and she had likely told her brothers the whole story. Yet, they chose to hold him in the dungeon.
After all he did. Still, he was a nobody, a lowlife maggot to their regal, jaded halls. Meant to be stepped on. Meant to be insulted. Meant to be reminded of his place, his feebleness.
"Fine." He surrendered and let them move him.
Ah… the lowlife tried to reach for the sun and got burned… I get it.
A lesson was learned in Dorne.
___________________
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