Playing the Game (Game of Thrones)

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When the knock comes at the door of his guest chambers, Jon smiles softly, almost sadly. Alas, it’s better this way.
 
“Come in.”
 
After all, while he could have likely thrown his weight around and seen the Sand Snakes punished for things they had yet to do, in the end it would be better to let them make their attempts against him. It would only make it easier to force Princess Arianne to bend the knee, really.
 
Through his door steps a cloaked figure… a woman, obviously. Bare-foot, she steps further into the room, keeping her head down and her eyes averted.
 
“Your Majesty. A gift, from the Princess. She hopes that you will enjoy.”
 
Before Jon can response, Tyene Sand throws her hood back and pulls off her cloak with a flourish, to reveal her nudity underneath. The Dornish woman offers him a soft smile as she exposes herself to him. Jon, meanwhile, remains silent as he takes in her visage. The first thing he notices is the blue paint all across her body.
 
Drawn in swirls, from her collarbone and neck to her breasts, down to her belly and thighs, the bright blue is clearly there to draw the eye. However, Jon knows what it’s truly meant to do. What it’s meant to draw the eye FROM.
 
Her lips, after all, are a similar shade of blue. Not quite the same color though, but Jon isn’t sure he would have noticed the difference, if not for his divine senses. As Tyene makes her way forward, Jon sweeps his eyes up and down her naked, painted form and nods his approval, smiling slightly.
 
“How exotic.”
 
It’s certainly attractively done, and as Tyene slowly kneels down before him and reaches for his pants, she looks up into his eyes, batting her own oh so innocently.
 
“Thank you, your Majesty.”
 
Extracting his cock from its confines, she opens wide… and takes him into her mouth. The moment that his dick touches her lips, Tyene Sand drops the innocent, child-like act that she’d been playing at. The fully-grown young woman had been acting the part of the maiden, as though she were as pure as fresh driven snow.
 
Heh, though they probably didn’t have that sort of phrase all the way down here in Dorne. What it actually was, Jon couldn’t be bothered to think about at the moment. After all, Tyene was attempting to poison him right this instant.
 
It was clever enough, he supposed. Bobbing up and down his cock, spreading more and more of her poisonous lipstick along his shaft, Tyene sucks and slurps him off like the master cocksucker she is. She works her way all the way down the base of his dick and then back again, without pause and without break. And all without choking or gagging on his sizable length a single time.
 
Now at first, Jon isn’t completely hard, so it’s relatively easy for her. But once he’s fully erect, she still manages to swallow down his dick like it’s nothing difficult at all. It would honestly be impressive… if her blue lipstick wasn’t specifically designed to be incredibly detrimental to his health.
 
At the same time, Jon was aware that his dragons were being poisoned as well. A shame, that. A shame… because of course, it wouldn’t work. Jon refused to let it work. Staring down into Tyene’s eyes, he lets none of his true feelings come to the surface. Instead, he pretends to be the man she thinks he is. A ‘pretender’ to his throne, a King unworthy of his crown, and ultimately… an enemy to her and her sisters.
 
He's not their enemy… or at least, he never wanted to be. But unfortunately, Jon can see the Sand Snakes for how they really are. Their father’s death has poisoned their hearts far more effectively than Tyene’s lipstick could ever hope to poison him. They will not stop until they’ve destroyed everything around them in a vain bid to seize control of their surroundings. They are desperate, hurting girls who will only hurt more people if left to their own devices.
 
“I’m getting close, milady…”
 
Jon’s words, measured and calm, cause Tyene to pause, her eyes flicking up to meet his. By this point, she’s expecting him to show some slight signs that the poison is working. But he isn’t. Just as his dragons will also prove to be completely okay.
 
Recovering quickly from her momentary lapse, Tyene pulls off of his cock with a gasp, and presents her face and chest to him.
 
“Please, your Majesty. I am no lady. I am but a Sand. I beg of you, spill your essence upon me. Use me as the rag I am.”
 
If he didn’t know all he knew, like that Tyene was hamming it up on purpose, or that Arianne most definitely did NOT send her here this night, Jon would have been quite angry at the Princess of Dorne. Sending a bastard to act like she was worthless to a man who had grown up as a bastard? It would have been a grave insult. And the sad thing was, he knew Tyene wasn’t even trying to ruin Arianne’s reputation with him on purpose. She thought he would be dead within a few hours, after all.
 

Still, her technique was enjoyable, and her body is beautiful, even if her soul is rotten. In the end, Jon has no problem coating her in his seed. He cums all over her, covering her in ejaculate. Tyene moans and wiggles this way and that, pretending to enjoy it, her eyes lidded as she refrains from licking her lips at all costs. His cock is still coated in blue from her lipstick, and he sees how she glances at it, before slowly rising to her feet.
 
“I hope you are well-satiated, your Majesty. If it is alright, I shall take my leave.”
 
“Of course. Thank you for the gift of your company.”
 
Tyene bows low at the waist, and then gathers up her cloak and leaves. Jon watches her go, his divine senses allowing him to track her far longer than a mortal man would. He could probably go to Arianne right now and show off the poisonous lipstick painting his cock, as well as the tainted meat supplied to his dragon.
 
… But no. He wanted to see what they would do, now that their first attempt had failed. Women like these… would not give up easily.
 
-x-X-x-
 
“The poison did nothing. Not to the Pretender, and not to the Dragons.”
 
“He’s inoculated himself and them against poison, clearly. We have to assume his entire entourage is inoculated against any number of poisons, if not his whole army.”
 
“His whole army?! Surely not…”
 
“Well, probably not… but attempting to poison an army of that size is sure to get us discovered, and then the dragons, which ARE immune to poison and have been let into Sunspear itself, will burn us all to ash.”
 
“… Please tell me we have another plan.”
 
“We do. This is where Obara comes in.”
 
“Hmph, if you wish me to spar the Pretender and have an ‘accident’, I can certainly manage that much.”
 
“You’re on the right track, but not quite. He’s immune to poisons, fine. But poison and venom are not the same thing.”
 
“You have a venom for me to coat my weapons with?”
 
“Not your weapons. That would be to obvious. No, you aren’t going to touch him in the spar, Obara. You’re going to lose… and you’re going to give yourself to him as a result. When he has you on your back… that’s when the venom under your nails can come out to play.”
 
“Tch, devious. Normally, I would be against such a plan… but fine. Fine! I shall go along with it. Father would be pleased with such underhandedness if nothing else. It’s not like the Pretender deserves honor or respect, after all.”
 
“Well said, Sister. Well said.”
 
-x-X-x-
 
When Obara Sand challenges him to a spar a couple of days later, Jon is ready for it. He knows what she’s about from the beginning. He knows that while her weapons might not be poisoned, her nails are envenomed. He can see in her very soul how it pains her to throw the spar… and so he decides to show her a small mercy.
 
WHUMP!
 
“F-Fuck!”
 
For the fifth time in as many minutes, Jon sends Obara to the ground, sprawling on her belly as he easily blocks her blow and drops her with a blow of his own. They’ve been sparring for a little while now, and he’s not taking it easy on her. She’d been planning on going slow, on holding back, and on letting him beat her. But he hasn’t let her let him beat her.
 
With a snarl, Obara gets up off the ground, bouncing from foot to foot and shaking herself off.
 
“Tough bastard, aren’t you?”
 
Jon grins a toothy grin, cocking his head to the side.
 
“Aren’t we both?”
 
Not dignifying that with a coherent response, Obara lets out a roar and lunges at him again. Needless to say, this newest lunge goes about as well for her as all the others. Jon spins out of the way, her weapon not even touching him, and takes her between the shoulders with the hilt of his sword, pounding her right back into the sandy dirt of the sparring pit.
 
“FUCK!”
 
She’s not holding back. She’s not even trying to throw anymore. Nor is she attempting to even keep a façade up. If she saw the opportunity, she’d probably try to kill him outright. It’s clear she’s forgotten what her actual mission was, and so Jon decides to throw her a bone… or rather, enough rope to hang herself, he supposes.
 
“Good spar, Obara Sand.”
 
“W-Wait… I’m not done.”
 
“Maybe you aren’t, but I’m feeling sweaty. You know us royals… can’t stand to get too dirty.”
 
He grins as he jokes, but he also heads for the exit. Obara doesn’t reply, merely glaring daggers into his back as he goes. Still…
 
He’s barely gotten his clothing off when she barges into his room a few minutes later. The tub is right there, filled with freshly poured hot water, and he really is covered in a thin layer of sweat, just as she is. But rather than letting him get in the tub, Obara stomps forward and pushes him back against the wall, before savagely kissing him.
 
Jon lets it happen, of course, knowing full well what her true intentions are. Still, that doesn’t stop him from taking advantage. She’s offering herself up on a silver platter for the express purpose of murdering him. Just because she wants him dead, doesn’t mean he’s going to reject her offer.
 
And so, as the conquering King she thinks he is, Jon grabs her by her hips and spins her around, shoving HER up against the wall. He then begins to rip her own garments clean off of her body, including the leather armor she’s wearing. She gasps at the savagery, and for just a moment, actual attraction colors her deep, black hatred for him. For just a moment, Obara is conflicted.
 
But then that attraction shifts into lust, which mixes with fury into something spiteful but also aroused as she remembers that not only is he her and her sister’s perceived enemy, but he also just personally humiliated her in the sparring pit for several minutes straight.
 
With a growl, she all but bucks and fights against him, until he gets her under control and lifts her up off the ground, slamming her against the wall. He’s inside of her a moment later, fucking her as she welcomes him in with legs that wrap around his waist and pull him in close. Meanwhile, her nails come up, as her arms wrap around his shoulders… and then they come down.
 
Jon allows her envenomed nails to puncture his godly flesh, knowing full well that he could make it, so she chipped every last one before every making it past his skin. But no, instead, he lets it happen. He lets her draw her claw-like hands up and down his back as they hate-fuck like a pair of vicious, truly spite-filled rabbits. He pounds her into the wall hard enough to make it shake and for dust to spill forth, while she clings to him, screaming her rage and her pleasure for all nearby to hear.
 
They fuck and fuck and fuck, but Jon… Jon refuses to cum inside of her. And so, when the time comes, he does to her what he did to Tyene. Pulling out of Obara, he breaks free of her tight grip with ease, causing her to yelp as she falls down on her ass. A moment later, his cum covers her face and chest, the powerfully built warrior woman just staring up at him in disbelief.
 
Stepping away from her, Jon turns his back on her… letting Obara see the fresh rents in his flesh, where her nails did their work. It doesn’t completely quell her anger, but it does keep her from actually attacking him again right then and there.
 
As he slips into the bath waiting for him, Jon glances over at her and raises an eyebrow.
 
“You’re welcome to join me, if you like.”
 
For a moment, Obara is surprised by the invitation. Then, she scowls, and Jon can see from her soul that she decided to take it as a mocking insult for some reason, rather than in the sincere way he intended it. Jumping to her feet, the eldest Sand Snake stomps out of his room, his cum still coating her Dornish features.
 
Jon watches her go, sighing as he considers what will happen next. Once they realize the venom has failed, they will likely send Nymeria. And once Nymeria fails, they will probably resort to using Ellaria Sand, Oberyn’s former Paramour, after all. Ellaria… is not as committed to his death as the three Sand Snakes. She loves them for being Oberyn’s daughters, and she would do much for them, including try to kill him, but she’s currently taking a backseat to all their plans.
 
As he relaxes into the bath, Jon considers his options. He could let this play out to its inevitable conclusion and give Ellaria enough rope to hang herself with as well, he supposed. But he could also end it when Nymeria comes knocking, and settle for the Sand Snakes and the Sand Snakes alone…

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