Hugh Hammer (ASOIF/SI)

 "Your grace, your grace?" she heard and slowly came awake,

 moving involuntarily and regretting it immediately, a dull pain

 between her legs bringing a hiss from her lips.

 "You grace, we have a bath prepared for you, you must get up, his

 grace Prince Daemon has requested you and your husband's

 presence to break your fast with him."

 She levered herself upwards, eliciting more pain but she refused to

 let it show or make a noise, throwing off the covers the cool air of the

 room chilled her, the fire was in the process of being cleaned by a

 maid and would no doubt be relit later on, but for now the winter cold

 gripped the room.

 A viscous stickiness glued her legs together and there was some

 blood on her nightdress and she felt….dirty, that's what she felt, dirty.

 A bath sounded like just what she needed right now.

 "Your Grace, you also need to rise and be ready to break your fast"

 one of the maids announced, obviously addressing Hugh, but she

 did not turn her head to look at the man she had married.

 Instead, she had gotten down off the bed and allowed herself to be

 led through into an adjoining chamber that held a bath and a privy.

 The bath was filled with steaming hot water, which wreathing the

 room in mist like tendrils, and a charcoal brazier glowed a merry

 orange in the corner.

 She needed to make water, so she retired to the privy, raising up her

 nightgown she did her business, wincing slightly at the pain, before

 she exited the privy, washing her hands in the offered bowl of hot

 water.

"A mirror, a hand mirror" she croaked, her voice roughened still from

 sleep, holding out her hand until one of the maids handed her a

 small mirror.

 Used to being naked with maids and ladies in waiting she tugged her

 nightdress up over her head and flung it away from her, glad to be rid

 of it, and used the mirror to examine her intimate parts.

 They looked raw and puffy, an exploratory finger confirmed that they

 were also slightly sore to the touch, and she had to struggle not to

 cry as a lump expanded in her throat and threatened to choke her.

 "Your grace" came the soft words of an older maid "it is time for your

 bath, please?"

 "Why?" she asked, to the older maid who had spoken, but she knew

 her question was to every older woman who had hidden the truth

 form her, and probably from every other girl on their wedding night!

 "Why did you not warn me, why, why did you not tell me! WHY!" she

 said, her voice rising to a harsh, sobbing screech.

 "It is a woman's burden to bear the lusts of her husband, as so it is

 written, so it is ordained" came a calm voice from behind her,

 whirling around she saw her Septa enter the room.

 "You have blood and seed upon your womanhood, you are no longer

 a maid flowered but a woman wed, your husband and you have

 done you duty by the gods in consummating your marriage" the

 Septa announced, turning to leave.

 "I, I did not say you could leave!" she spat, anger giving her the

 strength to command the woman.

 The Septa turned to face her and evenly replied "you do not

 command me your Grace, only the Seven who are One do. And to

 answer your question as to why? Lust is a sin child, men are cursed

 by it, but women are blessed by the Seven to avoid these lusts, the

pain you are experiencing is to remind you that lust is a sin" and with

 that she turned from her and strode out the door.

 "Bitch!" she spat after the Septa, not caring if the woman heard her

 or not, not caring of the indrawn gasps of breath from the maids or

 the ladies in waiting.

 She let herself be led to her bath, sinking into its enveloping heat,

 not even wincing when it touched the sensitive skin between her

 legs. She ducked her head fully under and counted to ten before she

 surfaced again, her hair plastered to her face, uncaring of how she

 looked. She did this a few more times before she allowed herself to

 be washed and bathed.

 She tried to keep her mind free of thoughts but she could not, the

 pain and the….violation of last night kept on surfacing, despite her

 best efforts. Hugh, he, he had been….kind at first, even tender, his

 kisses and caresses had caused her to shiver and moan as strange

 sensations had coursed through her body. But, but the act itself, the

 size of him, of his manhood as it had entered her, the sharp pain, the

 feeling of being split open, of his weight atop her, his strength

 pinning her to the bed, the panic of not being able to escape.

 Afterwards she was dried and dressed, a practical woolen gown with

 a silk over gown, high at the neck and with a woolen cloak draped

 around her for extra warmth. The underdress was a vibrant red, the

 overdress was black, with embroidered red dragons scattered over

 its surface, the cloak was also black, but was lined with scarlet silk.

 Her hair was done up in a simpler style than yesterday, two plaits

 that were then wound around her head. A modest gold chain at her

 throat with a ruby pendant that was shaped like a dragon completed

 her outfit. Warm, fur lined slippers were placed on her feet and she

 was ready to face what the day would bring.

 Leaving the bathroom Hugh was standing there already dressed in

 the same garb he had worn last night, gauche and disrespectful of

 him she sniffed. She wondered if he had even bothered to bathe,

coming closer to him she caught a faint whiff of some a soap

 commonly used in the Red Keep and she did not know if she was

 pleased or disappointed that he had at least washed.

 They strode in silence to the Kings chambers in Maegor's holdfast,

 the corridors and passageways freezing and echoing, outside a thin

 wind howled, kicking up some of the snow that had fell heavily during

 the night.

 She knew Hugh wanted to talk, wanted to say something, but she

 refused to give him any opportunity to do so, studiously ignoring him

 and his attempts to catch her eye.

 Admitted into the Kings private chambers, which her father had

 appropriated as his own they were led to his private dining chamber,

 where a table was set for them to break their fast and a merry fire

 burned in the hearth, warming the room to an acceptable

 temperature.

 Her father was already seated and eating, both of them paid their

 respects to him and he bid them be seated, waving his hand with

 absentminded disdain.

 Hugh took her cloak from around her shoulders and pulled out her

 chair for her to sit, a stab of pain shooting up her as she sat, and she

 was unable to keep a slight grimace from her face.

 Her father grinned at that, more of a sneer to her mind and she

 hated him for it, hated what it represented.

 "Ahh, I see your husband did do his duty by you, not that I expected

 him not to!" her father announced as he let out a cruel, twisted laugh.

 "Good, good, I'm glad to see that my family has the good sense to

 obey my will" Daemon continued, all semblance of false joviality

 gone from his voice.

Neither her nor Hugh replied to her father, instead simply sitting still

 in their chairs.

 "Well, enough of that! Eat, we are a family now and family should

 often take meals together, it strengthens to bond between them!"

 With that Daemon indicated that they could eat, Hugh gave her a

 querying look and she nodded, he pointed to the various dishes and

 foods on the table, she indicated yay or nay with her head.

 Once he had provided for her he did the same for himself, choosing

 fried eggs, fried potatoes, sausages and bacon, along with a small

 loaf of bread. To drink he chose a pot of a strange smelling brew.

 "Wakebean your grace?" he asked her father, indicating the pot he

 had just placed his hand upon.

 "Aye Hugh, wakebean, I acquired as taste for it in Essos, you know

 of this drink?"

 "Erh aye, I had it once on Dragonstone."

 "Is that so" replied her father, his tone of voice betraying that he

 clearly did not believe Hugh.

 Hugh took the pot and poured himself a cup of the dark, almost black

 liquid, which looked like some of the Yi-Ti teas that she remembered

 from the Eyrie, but it smelt totally different.

 Hugh added some honey to the drink and then tucked into his meal,

 letting the beverage cool slightly before he drank it. As Hugh ate her

 stomach roiled at the sight, her plate had some cheese, bread and a

 single slice of ham, all she could stomach she knew.

 "Eat up, daughter mine" came the words of her father, filled with

 what she knew was false concern.

 She ate the food on her plate slowly, methodically, not really tasting

 any of it, Hugh beside her demolished what was on his plate and

was sipping at the wakebean brew somewhat tentatively.

 None of them seemed to be in the mood for conversation so the

 silence stretched out until she had to dig the fingers of her right hand

 into the palm of her left hand under the table to stop her screaming

 out.

 "Prince Hugh?" her father asked in a tone that indicated he was

 either blithely unaware or uncaring of the tension in the room.

 "Yes your Grace" her husband replied, his voice strained despite

 what she could see was his efforts to keep it calm and measured.

 "I would have words with my daughter alone, if you as her husband

 would permit it?" her father asked, his face twisted into what on

 anyone else and in any other situation would look like a friendly grin.

 But to her it looked like the mask of some evil fiend, seeking to trick

 and beguile those around him to his true nature.

 "Of course your Grace" Hugh replied, his face neutral but she could

 see warring emotions in his eyes.

 He stood up and gave her father and her a bow before he left the

 room, she quailed at his absence suddenly, feeling very alone and

 very afraid.

 "I see both of you were smart enough to obey my instructions, that is

 good" came her father's voice, low and sibilant with power and

 unspoken threats, and she shivered despite the heat of the room.

 "You, you are inconvenienced by the bedding, I can tell, but it is of

 little matter, you will heal within a day or two. This is common

 enough girl, for you are tiny and Hugh, well Hugh is a big lad now, is

 he not?" her father smiled at her, looking for all the world like a

 concerned father but all she saw was a disgusting, leering lecher.

 His smile dropped from his face instantly, shocking her as much by

 its absence as its previous presence "I need Hugh girl, I need him

loyal to me and to House Targaryen, and you will make sure he stays

 loyal, do you understand girl?"

 "I, father, I mean…"

 "You will ensure he stays loyal daughter mine, and do you know how

 you will ensure that, hrmmmm?"

 She did not reply, but felt color come to her cheeks and ice grip her

 heart with the realization of what her father was saying, what he was

 asking.

 "You will make him fall in love with you girl, he is already halfway

 there, honorable fool that he is, he probably thinks you are some

 maiden in need of rescuing out of the tales! And do you know how

 you will make him fall in love with you girl?"

 She could not reply, any words she had were stuck in her throat.

 "You will let him fuck that little tight silver haired cunny of yours night

 and day girl, you will not let that big oaf rest a day without his pillar

 getting wet from your insides, do you hear me?"

 "I, father. I'm, I.." she stuttered until her father cut her off.

 "Yes, yes, you are in pain, your cunt is no doubt sore from its first

 encounter with Hugh's pillar" he waved his hand as if to dismiss her

 concerns, dismiss all that had happened to her in the last few hours.

 "The pain will fade my dear, of that you can be certain, but if you are

 reluctant to fuck dear Hugh until you recover… then remember what

 I said about using your mouth? Well, you can ask your husband

 tonight about it, I am sure he will be more than willing to instruct you,

 only this time there is no need to tell him I command you in this,

 understood?"