The Queen's Justice - Revisted (crux, boiling, burning, torture)

[Naraku]

So, it's going to be at least a year before we get any new episodes of Game of Thrones. To tide us over, I thought I would revisit an episode from last season. While what happened in the episode was satisfying, I felt that the fates of two of the characters could have been much more brutal, so I wrote this. And it is brutal, the most brutal thing I've posted to date.
Oh, and I'm sorry Tree, but I couldn't find any natural breaks so I'm posting it in one shot. I promise, my next story will be posted in installments.

The Queen’s Justice – Revisited

by

Naraku​

SPOILER ALERT!This story is an alternative version of the fates of certain characters from the television series “Game of Thrones”. If you are following the series and have not seen Season 7 Episode 3, “The Queens Justice”, do not continue reading.

Throughout the rest of Westros, the people of King’s Landing were regarded as corrupt, hedonistic, uncaring and cruel. While this was the typical view that most rural people had of big city inhabitants and a gross generalization; there were times when the residents lived up to that reputation. For instance, they took collective pleasure in witnessing the suffering of others. Whether it was a common thief being flogged, a noble being beheaded or a Queen being publicly shamed; they always turned out in large numbers and enjoyed the spectacle tremendously. They may not have been any different in this from people of any other part of the country, or the world, for that matter. And, living in the capital and the largest city in the country, offered far more opportunities for such diversions. But, to the outsider, it seemed that the city’s populace; from the wealthiest noble to the lowest beggar in Flea Bottom; took an unseemly amount of pleasure in these displays of pain and suffering.

And so it be no surprise that a large crowd gathered in the square before the Red Keep. Rumors about what was to take place there had been buzzing through the city for days. How could they not. From the day the Dornish bitches had been led through the streets in chains behind the victorious Lord Euron Greyjoy, there had been speculation concerning their fates. And it was hard to ignore the construction going on in front of the Red Keep. A large wooden structure had been erected, fourteen feet high, topped by a platform thirty feet wide. On the left side, when viewed from the square, there was a derrick with a long arm that extended beyond the front of the platform. From the end of the derrick’s rope, hung a wooden beam five feet long and six inches square with an iron ring at each end, suspended lengthwise by chains. A rope tied to the center of the beam and secured to one of the derrick’s uprights keep the beam pulled back over the platform, at about shoulder height. Two men stood leaning against the derrick. On the ground in front of the platform and beneath the derrick’s arm, was a huge iron cauldron about six feet deep, propped up on iron legs that provided ample space for the wood that workers were busy piling beneath it. On the other side of the platform was a wooden cross about seven feet tall in the shape of an X. Bundles of branches were piled behind the cross and an iron brazier smoked nearby with the ends of three iron rods visible above the rim. What purpose all of this would be put to was the subject of many conversations, though some clue was provided when word spread that officials from the Keep had recently purchased a large quantity of oil.

At noon, the crowd cheered when Queen Cersei appeared on the battlements above the main gate. Cries of “Gods save the Queen” and “We love you, Queen Cersei” were heard. Just a few months earlier, this same crowd had laughed and called Cersei a whore and worse when the High Sparrow forced her to walk naked through the streets. But, the High Sparrow was gone and Cersei was the ruler of the Seven Kingdoms; or at least this corner of them. As she seated herself in a high backed chair brought by a servant, she smiled, but whether at the fickled nature of the crowd or in anticipation of what was about to happen, only she knew.

 

[Naraku]

Another cheer went up when the royal executioner, Ser Ilyn Payne, came onto the platform accompanied by a pair of assistants. It wasn’t that the people liked the grizzled, ugly, silent purveyor of official torture and death. They hated and feared him. But, they enjoyed the way he did his work. In fact, he may have been the most popular entertainer in all of Westros.

But, the loudest cheer came when the guards dragged two women onto the platform. They were in chains at the wrists and ankles, with a leather strap passed through the mouth and tied behind the head as a gag. The fine robes, trousers and boots they had worn when they were brought into the city as Euron Greyjoy’s trophies were gone; replaced by gray sack dresses that barely reached their knees. Though they had been washed before being presented to the public, both still looked battered and disheveled. No one doubted that they had spent the days since their arrival in the Keep providing “entertainment” to the royal guards. Still, they displayed the dark, exotic sensuality that Dornish women were known for.

The voice of the royal crier, standing on the battlement near Cersei, read out the proclamation identifying the women and their crimes. This was only a formality, everyone knew who they were and what they had done.

The taller, older woman was Ellaria Sand, mistress of the late Prince Oberyn Martell. Her wavy dark hair framed her hawkish face and, even in these circumstances, there was a fire in her eyes. The younger woman, almost a head shorter, was Tyene Sand; the bastard daughter of Oberyn and Ellaria. With shoulder length black hair and a more girlish face, she seemed more feminine than her mother; but she was reputed to be a cold blooded killer with many a dead man to her credit.

Together with Oberyn’s other two bastard daughters; now dead; they had poisoned Princess Myrcella, assassinated their sovereign lord Prince Doran and seized control of Dorne; conspired with the pretender Daenerys Targaryen and “the King of the North” Jon Snow to make war on Queen Cersei and take the Iron Throne. For these crimes, they were going to die and, because royal justice should be done in public so that there could be no doubt as to the price of treason; their deaths were going to be memorable.

When the reading was done, Ser Ilyn took hold of Ellaria and, with the help of a guard, lead her to stand in front of the cross beam. Her removed the manacles from her wrists and, with one mighty jerk, ripped the sack dress down off her body. The mob enthusiastically cheered her exposure and with good reason. Although well past her thirtieth year, she was still a woman of great, sensual beauty. Her breasts were well rounded and sagged only slightly, her belly and long legs were still firm. Most of all, her denuding confirmed a common rumor: that the women of Dorne shaved their pubic regions as a precaution against lice.

With the guard’s help, Ser Ilyn tied a rope around each elbow, securing her arms to the beam and then ran a rope under each shaven armpit as well. Next, he bent down and removed her shackles. He tied one end of a rope around her right ankle and raised it until he could tie the other end to the ring at the right end of the beam. Ellaria had to stand for a moment in this awkward position, until Ser Ilyn repeated the process securing her left ankle to the other end of the beam. Having her feet five feet apart and level with her head, caused her back to arch and her pelvis to thrust forward. As a result, her hairless crotch was completely exposed and all her womanly secrets were reveled to the boisterous crowd. Ser Ilyn completed his task by tying each wrist to the corresponding knee, producing the illusion that she was holding her legs apart in an obscene display that made the mob even more excited.

When he was done, Ser Ilyn walked to the edge of the platform and signaled the men below who then began lighting the wood beneath the cauldron. They would continue to fan the flames and feed more wood into the raging fire while Ser Ilyn continued his work above.

 

[Naraku]

He went to Tyene. The young woman was trembling, but not with fear. Her furrowed brow and tensed muscles showed she was trembling with rage at the treatment of her mother. There could be no doubt that, had she not been firmly held by two strong guards, she would have lunged at Ser Ilyn and strangled him with her chains.

Uninitiated, Ser Ilyn ceased her smock at the collar and tore it from her body. What was revealed was the body of a warrior woman in the prime of youth. Tyene’s breasts were high, round and firm. She was lean and well muscled but by means masculine. This was a woman who could keep pace with any man, on the battlefield or in the bedroom. And, like her mother, her pubic mound was completely hairless.

The guards dragged Tyene over to the X cross. They released her manacles and stretched each arm up along the length of each post. Ser Ilyn knelt and picked up something next to the cross. Those close enough could see that he had a large hammer in his right hand but could not make out what was in his left. But, Tyene could see it, and as he held it against her right wrist, her demeanor changed from rage to terror. Then, Ser Ilyn struck with the hammer and there was an earsplitting scream. At first, most of the crowd thought that he was smashing the girls hand, but the sound of metal striking metal, heard over the screaming, soon made them realize what was happening. Ser Ilyn was driving a six inch long nail through her wrist and into the wood beyond. Six blows were enough to secure her wrist to the cross, then Ser Ilyn picked up another nail and repeated the process with her left wrist.

With Tyene’s wrist secured, despite her attempts to pull herself free, the guards removed her legirons.
Together, they lifted her left leg, turning it outward and bending the knee so that her foot was just beneath her thigh and perpendicular to the lower arm of the cross. Ser Ilyn took ten blows of the hammer to drive a nail through the heel and secure it to the cross, accompanied by more nearly inhuman screams. Tyene’s screams continued as the guards raised her right leg and Ser Ilyn nailed that foot. When they were finished, Tyene was nailed with her arms out stretched above her and her legs spread apart, exposing her womanhood as obscenely as her mother’s. Some in the crowd commented on having seen a similar method of execution in Essos, called crucifixion, but this was the first time in Westros that a person had been nailed to a cross in anyone’s memory. But, those in the know pointed out, victims of crucifixion could take days to die. It seemed doubtful that such a prolonged death was intended here, so Tyene’s crucifixion must have been only a painful and humiliating means fo securing her for some other torment.

Ser Ilyn casually walked to the edge of the platform and looked down to check on the progress of the fire beneath the cauldron. Satisfied, he walked over to Ellaria. Taking hold of the left end of the beam, he turned her so that she was facing the cross. Though it was hard to tell from the ground, the cross was angled about ten degrees to the right. This meant that Ellaria had a clear view of her crucified daughter and all that would happen to her. Ser Ilyn waved over an assistant, who handed him a pair of heavy leather gloves and then took hold of the beam so that it would not turn and Ellaria would not miss anything.

 

[Naraku]

The Royal Executioner put on the gloves as he walked to the smoking brazier and withdrew one the iron rods with his right hand. It’s end was flattened and glowed red with flecks of orange. As he approached Tyene, the girl’s eyes, previously filled with rage and fury, became wide with terror. Ser Ilyn took hold of her right breast and squeezed tightly until the aureole bulged out between his thumb and forefinger. Slowly, he brought the glowing iron closer to her brown nipple. Tyene’s whimpering, that had begun when he approached her, gradually transitioned into a shrill, continuous scream. Tyene’s head thrashed about and she struggled as much as her pinioned position would allow, but Ser Ilyn’s grip on her breast was firm and his hands were strong.

Although it appeared to the cheering mob and to her mother on the crossbeam, that he was pressing the iron against Tyene’s nipple; the metal was in fact not touching her flesh at all. Ser Ilyn was a professional and, although uneducated, he had years of experience in his trade. He knew that, if a red hot iron touches human flesh, it burns the flesh away and destroys the nerves. And, once destroyed, nerves cannot transmit sensation. Therefore, he was holding the iron just a fraction of an inch from the nipple and allowing the heat to slowly roast the tender flesh.

Tyene howled and thrashed about as much as her nailed position would allow. The skin beneath the iron turned bright red then began to crack and peal. Blisters formed on the aureole and the tip of the nipple then burst and ooze blood and puss. For two minutes that must have seemed like an eternity to Tyene, Ser Ilyn held the iron steady until the once delectable teat had become a mass of raw meat. Only then did he release her breast and walked away with the now much cooler iron. Tyene slumped on her cross and hung her head, sobbing and gasping for breath, her body glistening with sweat.

Many in the crowd were amazed that she had managed to remain conscious through out the ordeal, Only a select few people knew the secret. Before they were taken from they cell, both women had been forced to drink a special drought: a potion that had been prepared by the Queen’s favorite, Maester Qyburn. Though the contents were a secret know only to him, Qyburn had assured the Queen that it would keep them conscious without dulling their senses. Tyene’s reactions so far were proving Qyburn was not exaggerating his skills.

Ser Ilyn dropped the iron into a bucket of water, then withdrew another one from the brazier. Identical in shape to the first one, this one glowed a slightly brighter shade of red, thanks to being n the coals longer. With her head down and lost in a world of agony, Tyene was unaware of Ser Ilyn’s approach until he took hold of her left breast and began squeezing it as he had the right one. Then she bagan screaming more loudly than before, knowing the pain she was about to experience anew. For the next two minutes, Ser Ilyn slowly roasted Tyene’s left nipple until it matched her right one. When he finally released her and walked back toward the brazier, the girl again sagged on the cross, but, thanks to Maester Qyburn, she remained awake.

Ser Ilyn pulled out the final iron. This one was longer than the others, about a yard, and he needed both hands to hold it steady. The last foot was hammered flat and had slight curvature. He stood before Tyene and held the iron beneath her, between her spread legs. Tyene saw the iron below her and knew immediately where it was going. She screamed in terror and tried frantically to raise herself up; pulling on nailed wrists and pressing against her nailed heels in a desperate attempt to keep the iron, which Ser Ilyn was slowly raising, from touching her most sensitive areas. But, of course, she could only get so far nailed as she was, just a few inches really and there was no preventing the inevitable. The end of the iron touched her anus with the rest curving underneath and pressing into her labia and crushing her clitoris. Ser Ilyn pressed the iron upward and seemed to lift the girl a bit further. The sound that came out of her throat was like nothing human: a howl, a scream a cry, a choking gasp , all so loud it seemed she could be heard for miles. For two minutes, Ser Ilyn held Tyene on the end of his iron, until her scream had become a gurgling and the sizzle from between her legs had stropped. Then, he removed it and she collapsed, but, the trembling of her body and the continued sobbing proved, amazingly, that she was still conscious and Qyburn’s potion was working.

 

[Naraku]

Ser Illyn walked over the edge of the platform again, then walked to the bucket where he dropped off the iron and nodded to his assistants. The two men grabbed fagots from the pile an began staking them in layers between the lower legs of the cross. While they did this, Ser Illyn untied the guide rope from the derrick and took hold of one end of the crossbeam holding Ellaria. The woman had watched the torture of her daughter, sobbing and crying out incoherently the whole time. Her face was not as beautiful as it had been. Her eyes were red, snot dripped from her nose and saliva from her mouth held open by the leather gag. But, her body, so vulgarly displayed was still desirable. It would not remain so.

Ser Illyn and the guard released the beam and it twisted back around so that Ellaria faced the crowd again. Ser Illyn then began playing out the guide rope so that the beam gradually swung outward to the end of the crane arm. Ellaria looked down across her spread sex to see the roiling, steaming surface of the oil beneath her. Ser Illyn, still holding the guide rope and now standing at the edge of the platform, where he had a clear view of the cauldron below; looked to his left to see that his assistants had completed piling the fagots in layers between the cross legs to a height just beneath the apex and Tyene’s crotch. Each man now held a lit torch and were awaiting their master’s orders. He looked over his shoulder to see that the workers were at the wench of the derrick. All was ready for the final act.

Ser Illyn pointed at the assistants, who began touching their torches to the end of the fagots at the lowest level of the pile. Then, he waived to the workers, who released the ratchet lock and began turning the wench crank. The pile of wood beneath Tyene began to blaze and the flames rose upward, while Ellaria descended slowly toward the boiling oil.

Ellaria wriggled and squirmed as much as she could in her awkward bondage, working every muscle of her well toned body in a desperate and futile attempt to delay the inevitable. If Ser Illyn had not kept a firm grip on the rope, the beam might have swung wildly. Finally, after what must have seemed like hours to her but was only a minute or so, her buttocks touched the scalding liquid. She screamed like a mad woman. Still, she descended and the oil covered her labia and lower back. Lower still and the oil covered her belly and thighs and her twitching fingers. Then, her hands were immersed and the oil crept over her breasts. Finally, when it reached her collar bones, Ser Illyn waived to the workmen to stop. Only Ellaria’s head and shoulders, upper arms, feet and lower legs were clear of the oil and her screams had become a gasping howl. After a few seconds, Ser Illyn gave a thumb up gesture and the worker began raising the woman out of her agonizing bath.

The crowd watching had been unable to see Ellaria’s immersion. To their eyes she slowly disappeared below the rim of the cauldron. But, the steam rising from the pot and the inhuman screams coming from the woman, made it clear to even the least imaginative among them what was happening. Then, they watch as she gradually emerged. Her torso, thighs, hands and lower arms were pink; not the natural pink of health, but the pink of seared meat. And, there were yellowish dots allover. Those in the front rows could tell these dots were blisters and the sharp eyed could see these blisters were growing larger as she ascended. Her screams had become a low hollow that sounded like some kind of wounded animal.

Meanwhile, looking to the right, they could watch Tyene perform a strange and, to some, an erotic dance. The flames had begun to to touch her groin and buttocks and, in response, she was pulling herself up and forward to avoid them. Because her nailed hands and feet limited her movements, she was bouncing up, wriggling from side to side and thrusting her damaged privates forward all in rapid succession; all accompanied by squealing and screams. That night, at the Randy Squirrel Tavern, an unidentified drunk said that it had looked like she was being fucked by the fire. Soon after, the expression “fucking like Tyene” became a common slang in King’s Landing for a woman showing particular vigor during sex. The term remained in use for many years, long after the source had been forgotten.

 

[Naraku]

After allowing her only a moment of “relief”, Ser Ilyn nodded to the men on the wench and Ellaria again descended toward the cauldron. As soon as she began moving, Ellaria began wailing in anticipation; a wailing that became a scream as soon as she reached the oil that was bubbling more vigorously than before.

Ser Ilyn know that he could not leave Ellaria in the oil for too long or she would die and spoil the entertainment. So, after only a brief moment, Ellaria again rose from her bath. What emerged no longer looked human. What had been red before was now bloody as her skin had cracked open and, in some places pealed away. Skin hung like strips of cloth from her legs and back. Even her face, although untouched by the oil, had a ghastly look. Flushed as if sunburned, her eyes bulging and staring blankly into the distance, a strange, gurgling sound was coming from her gagged mouth. Ser Ilyn knew she would not last much longer. If not for Maester Qyburn, she would have passed out well before this.

As he signaled for her to lowered again, he looked over at Tyene. She had ceased her struggling, and the fire was now burning away at her thighs and lower torso. She was slumped forward and only her twitching showed she was still alive and conscious.

Ellaria made no new sound as she entered the oil. When she came out again, she appeared only slightly more mutilated than the last time. But, something was different. Her head was tilted back and she was no longer wailing. Ser Ilyn pulled the guide rope, drawing her back over the platform. He took hold of her hair and starred into her half closed eyes. He had been meeting out death long enough to recognize it at a glance. The Maester’s potion had been effective at keeping her form passing out from the pain, but it could not keep her from dying.

Ser Ilyn signaled the men to lower Ellaria one last time, this time completely submerging her in the oil. Then he went over to her daughter, who was no longer moving. With the iron he had used on her crotch earlier; he pushed her head up and again saw a face he recognize – the face of the dead. He waved at his assistants and they began piling more fagots onto the pyre. The flames quickly rose to completely engulf the now dead Sand Snake.

Ser Ilyn lit a torch from the pyre then signaled the workers to raise Ellaria. Ser Ilyn pulled the rope and tied it off with the crossbeam again above the platform, then he extended the torch and ignited the oil soaked corpse. Ellaria was soon wrapped in flame. The ropes holding her wrists to her legs burned through, then those securing her ankles. For a moment, she presented a bizarre image of a puppet, dangling above the stage, shrouded in flames It only lasted for a moment, then the other ropes gave way and she collapsed onto the platform.

Ser Ilyn knew that the oil would burn away soon and that the fire beneath Tyene would not be sufficient to cremate her. It did not matter. The show was over and the crowd was already dispersing. Once the flames had gone out, the charred bodies – no longer recognizable even as female, much less the individuals they had once been – would be stuffed into a bag that was weighted with stones, rowed out and dumped into the depths of Blackwater Bay.

Up on the battlements, where she had watched the entire process with great interested, Queen Cersei raised a goblet of wine to her lips. With a smile she said, to no one in particular, “A Lannister always pays her debts.”.

The End

 

[Jon Smithie]

This is great, Naraku, very well written. Thanks for posting! I follow Game Of Thrones, and I must say, I prefer this public punishment to the more subtle and devious private one Cersei inflicts on Ellaria and Tyene.

GOT offers many possibilities to expand on the various abuses and punishments that women (and men--but who cares about that?) have to endure in the show. My own personal favorite scenario was when Sansa Stark's father was accused of treason, and Sansa was brought before King Joffrey. She begs tearfully for clemency for herself and her father, but Joffrey orders her stripped. Her dress is torn off her shoulder before Tyrion comes to her rescue, the nosy little bastard. But wouldn't it have been great if she had been stripped naked, and led in shackles through King's Landing as an example to all traitors? I mean, how else can you discourage treason? By merely cutting off the traitor's head? I say nay! Hopefully the writers on GOT will read your story and see what they missed.

Here's some pics of the characters:

Ellaria Sand (Indira Varma) And Ellaria, in better days, lounging about in Dorne, awaiting Prince Oberon's pleasure (Indira Varma in "Kama Sutra".)

Ellaria's daughter Tyene (Rosabell Sellars)
Ellaria and Tyene captured.
Ellaria and Tyene in Queen Cirsei's dungeon.

The young woman they poisoned, Queen Cirsei's daughter, Myrcella Baratheon (Nell Tiger Free.)

In yet another variation inspired by Naraku's story, I think Myrcella, while visiting in Dorne, should have been framed for spying by Ellaria, and subjected to torture. This, of course, means war, which is exactly what Ellaria wants, but the outcome is not in her favor, to say the least.

 

[Barbaria1]

Great writing, but it’s going to take me some time to read it all and comment.

 

[Naraku]

This is great, Naraku, very well written. Thanks for posting! I follow Game Of Thrones, and I must say, I prefer this public punishment to the more subtle and devious private one Cersei inflicts on Ellaria and Tyene.

GOT offers many possibilities to expand on the various abuses and punishments that women (and men--but who cares about that?) have to endure in the show. My own personal favorite scenario was when Sansa Stark's father was accused of treason, and Sansa was brought before King Joffrey. She begs tearfully for clemency for herself and her father, but Joffrey orders her stripped. Her dress is torn off her shoulder before Tyrion comes to her rescue, the nosy little bastard. But wouldn't it have been great if she had been stripped naked, and led in shackles through King's Landing as an example to all traitors? I mean, how else can you discourage treason? By merely cutting off the traitor's head? I say nay! Hopefully the writers on GOT will read your story and see what they missed.

Here's some pics of the characters:

View attachment 589086 Ellaria Sand (Indira Varma) View attachment 589087 And Ellaria, in better days, lounging about in Dorne, awaiting Prince Oberon's pleasure (Indira Varma in "Kama Sutra".)

View attachment 589082 Ellaria's daughter Tyene (Rosabell Sellars)
View attachment 589084 Ellaria and Tyene captured.
View attachment 589085View attachment 589081 Ellaria and Tyene in Queen Cirsei's dungeon.

View attachment 589088 The young woman they poisoned, Queen Cirsei's daughter, Myrcella Baratheon (Nell Tiger Free.)

In yet another variation inspired by Naraku's story, I think Myrcella, while visiting in Dorne, should have been framed for spying by Ellaria, and subjected to torture. This, of course, means war, which is exactly what Ellaria wants, but the outcome is not in her favor, to say the least.

Thank you very much Jon "Snow" Smithie.

The punishment of Ellaria and Tyene in the show was a nice piece of poetic justice and befit the cruelty of Cersei. However, historically, treason was almost always punished in public and usually in the cruelest of fashions; especially with commoners. Jamie told Olenna about the nasty things Cersei wanted to do to her. However, since Olenna was a noblewoman, in reality if Cersei had done anything more than have her beheaded, she would have risked offending the other nobles still allied to her. Ellaria and Tyene, on the other hand, are commoners and bastards. The fact that Tyene's father was a noble is irrelevant because he never legitimized her (which is actually kind of strange, if you think about it). Therefore, I reasoned, they should have been subjected to the sort of brutal execution that would send a message to everyone.

Sophie Turner was only about 14 or 15 when that scene was shot, which is why, in a series that features lots of nudity, she only had her shoulders discreetly uncovered. Sansa was also about the same age. Nell Tiger Free was only 15 or 16 when she was on the show - she just turned 18 last October - and Myrcella was about the same age. Given our rules against under age characters, I don't think we should go there. But, Ilike the way you think.

 

[messaline]

conspired with the pretender Daenerys Targaryen and “the King of the North” Jon Snow to make war on Queen Cersei and take the Iron Throne

Well, no doubt that Daenerys will come, a day, with her dragoons to put the fire to this city and make its people burning ...

Only her can pretend to get the Iron'throne !!!
I love this woman warrior and I'm sure that soon, she will come to my bed and ....Mmmmmmmm !

 

[Jon Smithie]

Sophie Turner was only about 14 or 15 when that scene was shot, which is why, in a series that features lots of nudity, she only had her shoulders discreetly uncovered. Sansa was also about the same age. Nell Tiger Free was only 15 or 16 when she was on the show - she just turned 18 last October - and Myrcella was about the same age. Given our rules against under age characters, I don't think we should go there.

Oops. Oh shit. I should have checked on that, I guess. I haven't read the books so I didn't know what age they were supposed to be. I can only assure the board that in my own fevered imaginings they were both 21.

 

[Apostate]

Oops. Oh shit. I should have checked on that, I guess. I haven't read the books so I didn't know what age they were supposed to be. I can only assure the board that in my own fevered imaginings they were both 21.

Which reminds me of the predicament of Potterverse fans who fantasized about Hermione Granger. Before Emma Watson’s 18th birthday they would elicit EEEWWW!!!s

She’s 28 now. All better.

 

[Baron Von Sade]

What an absolutely stellar story! Both brutal and supremely sexual.
Well done!

 

[Jollyrei]

Great story, Naraku! Appallingly brutal and erotic. I was thinking that it is somewhat hard to be more gruesome than what actually happens in the books or on the Series - I'm not sure you've gone that far, actually, but it is certainly a plausible and worthy alternative.
I find I have difficulty finding the time, or working up the energy to catch up in the series (I'm apparently terminally stuck in season 3), but I had not trouble "binge reading" your whole story. Excellent job.

 

[pontiopilato]

Congrats, Naraku, you've done it again! Great story, and wastes no time getting to the action. Talk about a couple of hot females!

 

[MandySicko]

I love GoT, and that applies both the novels which I read first and then the series, at least until season 6. Realistic fantasy or mythical alternative history, Martin is one of the best writers. And I profusely enjoyed this little story about the alternative end of the Dornish ladies! Torture by fire and heat and executions using the most horrible agony inflicted by flames, hot objects and liquids are my absolute favorite methods and I'm in a neverending quest to find more pictures, arts, stories about the topic. I like it be as cruel and graphic as possible while still making some sense.

Naraku,
THANK YOU VERY MUCH, for writing and publishing this. This was an awesome, sexy, detailed and GoT-wise harmonized story. You made me tremble as I was reading and forced me to do naughty things while read the story and the suffering of the ladies.