BLACKBIRD (Game of Thrones)

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

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KINGS LANDING SHIT STAIN
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THE SCENT OF SHIT WOULD FOREVER CLOUD VALENCIA'S MEMORY. Kings Landing, her home, where she was raised, where her father died, her sister resided, and where her legacy was made. Valencia could never forget the smell of shit, smoke, and rotting bodies, Kings Landing reeked of the very foulest things of human nature, including the hot stench of sex that littered the Street of Silk where the brothels primarily resided. 

Valencia could remember smelling it all from high up in the Red Keeps windows, the scent always grew the strongest whenever she saw the familiar golden box being carried up to the Keep. She knew that box, and what it carried; whores for her father. Valencia despised whenever they'd come to the Keep, mostly because she had seen them run out stark naked in front of her once when she was with Jaime, and also because as a child, Valencia didn't understand why her father would cheat on her mother.

But then again, as a child, she thought Cersei was her mother.

But as she laid in her bed, huddled beneath thick skins, Valencia fell asleep. It was still the early afternoon, but she craved for some sort of relaxation, for she would be leaving in the morning.

She would take her armies, her weapons, everything that was rightfully hers back to Storm's End and wait. It would not be long until Stannis came for Kings Landing, and she needed to be ready to pick up the pieces of either army and take what was rightfully hers. 

Valencia hoped that not many lives were lost, though this was war, things happened.

As she fell into a unconscious state, the horrendous smell of Kings Landing bit deep into her nostrils, and the heat lathered up her skin, soaking her heavily cladded body in sweat. The hot air burned her nostrils, and ached her throat, but at least the sun wasn't on her. Instead, she was in some back alley, the sounds of smells, and the water outside the alleys windows reminding her exactly where she was. 

Blackwater Bay.

More than once Valencia had left the Keep and moved down into the streets, moving amongst the common folk and hearing their ails. She had met many children, all desperate to meet the pretty Princess, as well as some of the wives and husbands. Many had given her blessings, many had told them of their troubles, and many had reached out, just to touch the smooth skin she was blessed with.

But much had changed since then, Valencia was no longer the small girl she once was, she did not wear the pretty gowns with flowing fabrics, she did not let her hair hang free, she did not put away her blades for sewing needles. She was a Queen, and the careless child she once was died with her father.

The alley was high in tension, sexual and fearful. Valencia felt as if she had been smacked in the side of her head, the sunshine flooding through the windows temporarily blinding her. Her feet were like feathers, and her fingers like uncontrollable waters.

"Valencia?" A soft voice whispered, spinning Valencia around.

At first, she didn't know who it was lying on the ground, bloodied and torn, her dress ripped to shreds exposing her body. Her nightingale hair was fanned out around her head, some of it had been ripped out and lying on the floor. A gash was slick across her forehead, blooding pooling out of her skull as she looked up at Valencia with doe-brown eyes.

Valencia felt her heart tear at the sight before her; Dahlia.

Her body was forcefully yanked down, the men stroking their members to prepare themselves. Seeing the sight was an awakening for Valencia, her mind was cleared, and her body was back in action.