Thread: Game of Tongues! (Jack Stalker and MissMayday)

Why thank you for your Hospitality your grace. The younger woman said with a clipped diplomatic hint and a warm, if careful smile. Not wanting to give to much away, not wanting to give away her hand. This was Cersei Lannister, the wife of the Usurper, the Incestuous mother of a brutal dictator and a tyrant. She was a stateswoman, that much was terribly clear. With the way she welcomed her in, with the decorum of the couch and even the brooding, terrifying figure by the door. Cersei was just buttering the younger woman up for some form of assault. Though she did just as the golden haired woman asked, the room was terribly cold and the Queen stripped down, her gloves tossed aside onto a small table, as well as her large furred coat. Revealing underneath her Dorthraki riding trousers and a sleeveless blue and grey dress bodice. Her milky white breasts once more pale from her months at sea and time in the north, all under a terribly stormy sky. It had been dark the entire time she had been in Westero's, until she finally entered the eternal city. Kings Landing, the centre of the continent, and the clouds seemed to dissipate. An omen? Perhaps. The seven gods certainly seemed to believe so. Throughout the Blonde woman's carefully articulated speech, the platinum haired girl sat bolt upright, correct posture, strong eye contact. Just as she had survived in Slavers Bay with the same political attitudes. The young Targaryen had quite the eye for state craft as well. Even as Cersei played and toyed with Dany's hair, the girl didn't mind. She been used to her handmaidens musings and playful touch in the ivory white hair of the Targaryen dynasty. Cersei certainly seemed to have a compelling argument across almost all of the points. She had found Yara and Sansa Stark to be terribly alluring and useful to contract with. That bastard Jon Snow had been belligerent, so had the snake Xaro Xhoan Daxos in that most honourable and revered shithole that was Qarth. With suspicious, cat like eyes she watched the older woman downing her wine, and was surprised as suddenly they're lips were locked in a kiss, her entire body froze, her mind blanked and somewhere, deep inside, like a Dragons egg hatching in an eternal fire...something was born. The Woman pulled back, and with her full lips sweetened by both saliva and wine, Dany considered her options. Engage in further...negotiations for the betterment of Westero's, or run screaming? Well where was the point in running. I've always found that tasteful, high class discussions lead to the betterment of my people, discussions and arguments and partnerships arranged and crushed through deep thought and discourse...but of course...to do that...I'd need a hell of a lot more wine your grace. The Targaryen purred, waiting for Cersei to fill her mouth again before the girl took the initiatve. A fire erupting in her loins as she grabbed the back of Cersei's neck and pulled her into a deep, dragging kiss. Swapping wine and spit as their tongues duelled. The blade of an axe pressed into her spine, a cracked shield thrusting into her buttocks but Dany didn't care. The time for diplomacy had arrived...