Game Of Thrones Fic: A Story Told (Daenerys/Doreah; NC17)
Title: A Story Told
Prompt: Once Upon A Time
Word Count: 1108
Rating: NC17
Original/Fandom: Fandom; Game Of Thrones
Pairings (if any): Mild Daenerys/Doreah. Mentions of Doreah/Viserys and Doreah/Others.
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/Underage): Descriptions of canon underage prostitution and sex.
Summary: Daenerys asks for a story and Doreah tells her own.
Link:
Daenerys sat with her eyes closed, enjoying the tactile experience of having Doreah arrange her hair. It could sometimes take hours and was one of the most intimate duties she asked of her. Sometimes she asked for elaborate weaves just to make sure it would take as long as possible.
Sometimes Doreah would sing to her. It would start of a tuneless hum and then take form under Daenerys’ encouragement. Other times she would tell her stories, recited from memory and often borrowed from the events of Daenerys’ past.
“Tell me a story?” Daenerys asked when she did not hum.
Doreah hesitated and Daenerys could sense something quieter about her, stiller than usual.
“I like to hear the common tongue from time to time.” She turned to look at her and Doreah nodded.
She coughed and started. “Once, there was a child born from a Dragon, a girl...”
“That’s one of my stories. I want to hear one of yours.” Daenerys interrupted.
“Khaleesi?” Doreah asked, unsure.
“You must have stories. Did your mother not tell you any before you were sold?”
A shadow passed over Doreah’s face and Daenerys was confused. Doreah herself had freely admitted that she had been sold into prostitution and she hadn’t been ashamed of it as she taught her how to pleasure her Khal.
“I’m sorry if I have upset you.”
“No, Khaleesi. I have many stories I can tell.”
“I’m glad.” Daenerys smiled; still not sure that Doreah was being honest with her.
“Once upon a time, there was a girl. It doesn’t matter who she was or where she was from, just that she existed and that she had dreams. She dreamed that one day; she would rise from poverty and be something better. As a child, she thought that she’d become a lady or if she was lucky, a princess and marry a prince. As she grew up, she realised that what she was destined to become was a whore. So she said to herself, you’re not going to be just any whore, you’re going to be the best damned whore in the Free City. She was way too ambitious for a twelve year old, but aren’t all twelve year olds? She didn’t just keep this to herself either, she told all the other girls, all the older girls, her mistresses and the master of the whorehouse and anyone who found themselves with reason to speak to her. If she was to be a whore, she wasn’t going to be ashamed of it. Nobody was going to make her ashamed of it.”
Daenerys felt Doreah’s fingers tighten around her hair and she suspected if she turned around, Doreah wouldn’t even be looking at her hair anymore.
“Did someone say something to you? Was it one of the Dothraki men? Because I’ve told them you are not to be touched.” Daenerys asked, thinking she knew what it was Doreah was trying to tell her.
“None of the Dothraki have said a word to me. Do not worry.”
“But I do worry. Some of those men don’t understand that a woman has any other purpose than to be taken.”
“Shall I keep on telling my story?” Doreah asked, gathering up the plait she had let fall.
“Of course, continue.” Daenerys nodded, turning back to face forwards.
“Like I said, this girl was convinced she was going to be the best whore the Free City had ever seen. Her virginity was sold for more gold than she had ever seen in her life. She wasn’t allowed to keep it of course but she still felt like she had achieved something. Then night fell and it was time for her to earn her money.”
Doreah took in a breath and Daenerys got the impression that she’d never told this story before.
“And then suddenly being the best whore in the Free City wasn’t a title she wanted. The man, I forget him name now, held her knees apart and she wept from the pain. That didn’t matter to him, he’d bought enough virgins to know what to expect. She forgot all the fancy tricks she’d learned in the whorehouse and she felt like a child again. By some fortune, it was over quickly and he let her go. Some would have made her stay the full time that they’d paid for but he didn’t. She’d served her purpose there and he told her so. She had never been so ashamed of herself in her life. She went home to the mistresses and they smoothed her hair and cleaned the blood off her legs and told her she was to get some sleep because she’d be working again in a few hours. She kicked and screamed. She cried and spat. She claimed she would rather be poor than do that again. They laughed and she froze over. They told her nobody would want her now that she had been soiled. The only life she could hope for was that of a whore, so she better get used to it and get good at it. She turned herself to stone, determined to never feel like that again. She saw the next man and the next and the next. Women too. Couples. Orgies. Everything you can think of in between.”
Daenerys shifted in her seat, picturing all these things. Doreah seemed to take on an air of pride and confidence that she had been lacking all day.
“And do you know what, soon enough she was the best damned whore in the Free City. She could finish a man with her hands and her mouth and any other part of her body. Men with more money that you could dream of said they’d give it all up for her. Godly men told her that the true paradise was being buried deep inside her cunt. She was never made to feel ashamed again. Until now.”
Daenerys turned her head to meet Doreah’s eyes.
“Last night your brother made me ashamed of what I am. I do not wish to speak out of turn...” She hesitated and looked away.
Daenerys took her chin in her hand, making her look at her again, smiling when she did so. “I will ensure he doesn’t touch you or even speak to you again. You were bought to be mine. Not his.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips against Doreah’s cheek.
“Khaleesi?” Doreah asked, pushing herself forward in Daenerys’ grasp in case it was what she wanted.
“Never be ashamed. You are a better whore than he is a Dragon. You are a better woman that he will ever be a man.”
Written for The Table Of Doom @ writerverse
Prompt: Once Upon A Time
Word Count: 1108
Rating: NC17
Original/Fandom: Fandom; Game Of Thrones
Pairings (if any): Mild Daenerys/Doreah. Mentions of Doreah/Viserys and Doreah/Others.
Warnings (Non-Con/Dub-Con/Underage): Descriptions of canon underage prostitution and sex.
Summary: Daenerys asks for a story and Doreah tells her own.
Link:
Daenerys sat with her eyes closed, enjoying the tactile experience of having Doreah arrange her hair. It could sometimes take hours and was one of the most intimate duties she asked of her. Sometimes she asked for elaborate weaves just to make sure it would take as long as possible.
Sometimes Doreah would sing to her. It would start of a tuneless hum and then take form under Daenerys’ encouragement. Other times she would tell her stories, recited from memory and often borrowed from the events of Daenerys’ past.
“Tell me a story?” Daenerys asked when she did not hum.
Doreah hesitated and Daenerys could sense something quieter about her, stiller than usual.
“I like to hear the common tongue from time to time.” She turned to look at her and Doreah nodded.
She coughed and started. “Once, there was a child born from a Dragon, a girl...”
“That’s one of my stories. I want to hear one of yours.” Daenerys interrupted.
“Khaleesi?” Doreah asked, unsure.
“You must have stories. Did your mother not tell you any before you were sold?”
A shadow passed over Doreah’s face and Daenerys was confused. Doreah herself had freely admitted that she had been sold into prostitution and she hadn’t been ashamed of it as she taught her how to pleasure her Khal.
“I’m sorry if I have upset you.”
“No, Khaleesi. I have many stories I can tell.”
“I’m glad.” Daenerys smiled; still not sure that Doreah was being honest with her.
“Once upon a time, there was a girl. It doesn’t matter who she was or where she was from, just that she existed and that she had dreams. She dreamed that one day; she would rise from poverty and be something better. As a child, she thought that she’d become a lady or if she was lucky, a princess and marry a prince. As she grew up, she realised that what she was destined to become was a whore. So she said to herself, you’re not going to be just any whore, you’re going to be the best damned whore in the Free City. She was way too ambitious for a twelve year old, but aren’t all twelve year olds? She didn’t just keep this to herself either, she told all the other girls, all the older girls, her mistresses and the master of the whorehouse and anyone who found themselves with reason to speak to her. If she was to be a whore, she wasn’t going to be ashamed of it. Nobody was going to make her ashamed of it.”
Daenerys felt Doreah’s fingers tighten around her hair and she suspected if she turned around, Doreah wouldn’t even be looking at her hair anymore.
“Did someone say something to you? Was it one of the Dothraki men? Because I’ve told them you are not to be touched.” Daenerys asked, thinking she knew what it was Doreah was trying to tell her.
“None of the Dothraki have said a word to me. Do not worry.”
“But I do worry. Some of those men don’t understand that a woman has any other purpose than to be taken.”
“Shall I keep on telling my story?” Doreah asked, gathering up the plait she had let fall.
“Of course, continue.” Daenerys nodded, turning back to face forwards.
“Like I said, this girl was convinced she was going to be the best whore the Free City had ever seen. Her virginity was sold for more gold than she had ever seen in her life. She wasn’t allowed to keep it of course but she still felt like she had achieved something. Then night fell and it was time for her to earn her money.”
Doreah took in a breath and Daenerys got the impression that she’d never told this story before.
“And then suddenly being the best whore in the Free City wasn’t a title she wanted. The man, I forget him name now, held her knees apart and she wept from the pain. That didn’t matter to him, he’d bought enough virgins to know what to expect. She forgot all the fancy tricks she’d learned in the whorehouse and she felt like a child again. By some fortune, it was over quickly and he let her go. Some would have made her stay the full time that they’d paid for but he didn’t. She’d served her purpose there and he told her so. She had never been so ashamed of herself in her life. She went home to the mistresses and they smoothed her hair and cleaned the blood off her legs and told her she was to get some sleep because she’d be working again in a few hours. She kicked and screamed. She cried and spat. She claimed she would rather be poor than do that again. They laughed and she froze over. They told her nobody would want her now that she had been soiled. The only life she could hope for was that of a whore, so she better get used to it and get good at it. She turned herself to stone, determined to never feel like that again. She saw the next man and the next and the next. Women too. Couples. Orgies. Everything you can think of in between.”
Daenerys shifted in her seat, picturing all these things. Doreah seemed to take on an air of pride and confidence that she had been lacking all day.
“And do you know what, soon enough she was the best damned whore in the Free City. She could finish a man with her hands and her mouth and any other part of her body. Men with more money that you could dream of said they’d give it all up for her. Godly men told her that the true paradise was being buried deep inside her cunt. She was never made to feel ashamed again. Until now.”
Daenerys turned her head to meet Doreah’s eyes.
“Last night your brother made me ashamed of what I am. I do not wish to speak out of turn...” She hesitated and looked away.
Daenerys took her chin in her hand, making her look at her again, smiling when she did so. “I will ensure he doesn’t touch you or even speak to you again. You were bought to be mine. Not his.” She leaned forward and brushed her lips against Doreah’s cheek.
“Khaleesi?” Doreah asked, pushing herself forward in Daenerys’ grasp in case it was what she wanted.
“Never be ashamed. You are a better whore than he is a Dragon. You are a better woman that he will ever be a man.”
Written for The Table Of Doom @ writerverse