It wasn't even a good dungeon.
But at least it wasn't deep underground.
No, the dungeon was more like a tower. He was pushed with spears on his back, up the spiraling staircase, a very tiring height even for Bronn's trained body. Eventually, he was brought to the very tip of the high tower. By that point, the tower had become so narrow that there was space for just one single room. And that was Bronn's prison.
"Stay put and behave."
He was shoved into the small room. The thick, metal door was slammed shut right behind him. The door didn't even have a hole in it to look in or out.
"By the Father's beard, at least I'm alive," Bronn muttered and measured the room.
It was round, large enough that he could spread his arms wide twice over while standing in the middle. It was warm and empty; a privy was against the wall nearby for piss and shit. The presence of that privy made it clear that it was certainly no ordinary prison cell. Then there was a haystack on the floor near the laughable window, the size of his face, bars protecting it.
He peeked out of the window and took a deep breath. "Seven bless it, fine view. Warm wind off the Summer Sea, too."
He stared in silence, observing how large the world was. Remembering how blessed and lucky he was to have all those magical abilities. And yet, there he was, stuck in a cell because some numbskull lord decided to. He couldn't help but feel loathing towards the so-called ruling class. Sure, he once wanted to be one of them, but by now, he had no delusions that it was an open group, and he was never going to be invited. Prestige and bloodline were all they cared for. He had none.
"Young septon, reckon I'm worth about as much to them as a fart in the Sept," he muttered and sat down on the haystack, not damp thankfully. "Elia Martell… time'll tell if the Gods gave her wits or just a pretty face."
In time, Bronn lay down on the haystack and fell asleep. He was tired after the long journey and no decent welcome.
Creak!
"Wake up! Septon, get your ass up!"
"Hm?" Bronn's eyes shot open, and he jumped to his feet. The two guards had returned and grabbed him from both sides. "What do you want?"
"Gently now. Our tender Septon is not made for such treatment. Leave us alone."
Bronn was wide awake by then, and stared at the light brown skinned man. Tall, slender, fit, with sharp eyes and dark hair. In his one hand was a long spear.
"Made up your mind yet, Prince Oberyn?" Bronn addressed the man. He'd seen him when Elia was taken away from him. "If you're killing me, I'll take trial by combat. The Seven haven't failed me yet."
"Oh?" Prince Oberyn smirked and started waving his spear without getting closer to Bronn. "That's new. A holy man with a taste for swords?"
"Not the sort you're into… if my ears haven't played me false."
Oberyn smiled even broader, and suddenly moved his spear, smacking it between Bronn's legs on his balls. "Don't tempt me."
"..."
"You may leave," Oberyn said, drawing his spear back with a lazy flourish. "You have my thanks for saving my sister. The realm believes her to be dead, and in part, they are correct… though my niece and nephew were the ones who truly died. I remember every crime against me. I remember every kindness, too."
Bronn nodded. There wasn't much else he could say to him.
"But you cannot leave yet." Oberyn twirled his spear toward the window. "The sun still clings to the sky. Elia tells me Oldtown is your destination. You'll be taken to a ship, unseen by any. My brother and I prefer to keep Elia hidden for now. Surely, you can guess why."
"I gain nothing by saying I lent her a hand, Prince Oberyn," Bronn said. "Seven help me, it was a mercy for a grieving woman. The rest of your highborn feuds are for the Gods to sort, not me."
Oberyn nodded and stepped back towards the door. "You're welcome in Sunspear any time, Septon. We value our friends greatly."
"By locking them up?" Bronn quipped.
"Merely precautions, Septon. You will have wine worthy of the Seven and food to make you sin before sunset. Rest for a few hours."
With that, Oberyn turned around and left through the iron door. Sure enough, the sound of locks turning came from outside.
Seven help me, that changes sweet nothing. Still a prisoner. Bronn sighed and returned to sit on the hay. Well, at least they're not sending me to the Stranger just yet."
Knock! Knock!
"Hm?" He jumped to his feet again. Only a few moments had passed since Oberyn had left. "Yes?"
Creak!
"You two may leave," a feminine voice echoed, and then the door opened. "I'll be praying with Septon for a while."
Sure enough, Elia Martell entered, now dressed in complete Dornish attire, a long, full-sleeved golden gown with a deep neckline, gold jewelry covering her neck and wrists, a jeweled belt on her waist, ornaments on her head, earrings as well.
She held a large tray in her hands and walked into the room. Her big black eyes showed a hint of guilt. But overall, she looked far healthier than the first time she and Bronn had met. Bronn's potions had healed her frail, delicate health. While she was still slender, her arms, her face, and her body overall appeared healthy and vigorous.
"Forgive me, Septon Bronn. I swore to my brothers again and again that you acted only from the kindness of your heart. But they refused to believe me. They expected hidden motives." Elia said, and she truly believed that Bronn put a babe in her out of kindness.
"It's all in the past, Princess," Bronn replied, keeping the forgiving, magnanimous persona. And he already knew why she was there. After all, he'd spent a lot of time with her, enough to completely reform her mind into believing the miracle being that he was. "I suppose the food is for me? I am famished."
"Of course!" Elia quickly brought over the tray.
Bronn sat down on the hay, giving some space for Elia to sit right beside him. He placed the plate in front of him and began wolfing down food. His shoulders brushed against her, and she didn't move. She had no reason to after their physical rituals. He'd fucked her so much over the past few weeks that even if he were to push her down on that haystack and take her, she would only thank him for blessing her more.
He glanced at her and already felt his cock hardening. In all that gold jewelry, her bright golden gown, she looked rather appetizing. And seeing her caress her belly, he felt like filling her up one last time before leaving.
Sure, it was sinful, unbecoming of a septon, but it wasn't like he became a septon to serve the Seven. His goal from the very beginning was to gain influence over noble houses and corrupt them slowly. Make himself the highest voice in their halls. And often, the best way to gain that influence was through cunts and wombs.
"Do not be worried, Princess." He said, smiling towards her. "The child's well enough. I've drowned you in blessings since we left shore. Even the Mother must be sick of hearing your name and moans by now."
Elia's face flushed a little. On the ship, with nothing to do, they'd spent most of their time nude in their cabin, snuggling, kissing, fucking non-stop. They'd repeated that seven-day ritual countless times. And as she truly felt her body changing, her complexion improving, her fragile health healing, she became a believer—a blind believer.
"T-Thank you…"
Bronn hid the chuckle. It always made him chuckle, being thanked by a highborn like Elia. For fucking her like an animal and putting a babe in her. It was a sin against the ruling class. But there he was, nodding at her compliment.
"A woman wished to be a mother. I only shared what the Mother and the Maiden saw fit to give me," he replied and finished eating his food, rinsing his mouth with a mouthful of wine. "Keep taking the draughts I mixed for you. By the Seven, the babe will be sound, and you will live to shout at him later."
Elia smiled brightly, her eyes narrowed, glassy wet. She then bowed her head in submission, as she'd done plenty before. "Please don't forget me, Septon Bronn."
He confidently raised his right hand and caressed her smooth, dusky face. "As I vowed on the ship, I shall not, Princess."
"C-Can…" She murmured then, looking down. "Can you bless me… one last time, Septon?"
Hah! I knew it!
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