There are cowering whispers of a war that is soon to be waged on the realm, destroying castles, starving people, decimating armies. A war for the Iron Throne, and a war against it. A war to hide secrets and a war to betray them. For death is power...
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The scent of the scarlet chamber and the gallons of wine in his system overwhelmed Remi as he lounged on the rich cushions of the biggest pleasure house for the commonfolk in Volantis.
Finnick stirred, his hands automatically grabbing the buttocks of the naked woman who lay by his side. He smelled heavily of cheap wine as he blinked blearily, looking around.
"Did I doze off?"
"After drinking half our wine, yes." Barry replied, sitting alone on another cushion.
Barry hadn't seemed very interested in enjoying the women, being content with getting drunk on the dozen bottles they had purchased. Remi had thought this odd at first, but then had decided that it was just another example in the streak of his eccentricity.
All three of them were in the common room of the pleasure house. Various men had naked women leading them into separate chambers, servants ranging from the age of twelve to forty were serving wine and appetizers to the customers, a group of men and women alike had crowded in a corner, white vapors and many gasps rising amidst them, and a grey haired woman dressed extravagantly was smugly collecting coins from the newly arrived commoners.
The whorehouse was at it's epitome.
Remi lazily stretched himself, moaning lightly, just as an adolescent boy approached him, carrying a huge wooden tray.
"Would the good sir like something more relieving?" The boy offered coyly in High Valyrian, though his cracked voice somehow reduced the flair. Puberty, Remi thought nonchalantly.
He eyed the tall brass glasses on the wooden tray, filled with what seemed to be very watery milk. Curious. But then, he wanted to drink, and drink very bad. He had done something with his life, hadn't he? Not as heroic as he wanted it to be, but he decided that he needed to relax nevertheless.
Shrugging, he grabbed a glass, gulping it down in one go. He flinched at the bland taste of the drink and shooed the boy away, coughing.
Breathing heavily, his gaze wandered off to the nude women, no, girls, evenly positioned across the length of the hall. Their embezzling accessories shimmied along with their bodies as they danced evocatively to the beats of a bongo drum playing somewhere.
Remi blinked profusely, were they levitating off the ground? No, no.
He blinked again. They were levitating.
He watched in perplexed shock as the women rose higher and higher till they reached the ceiling and just with their gentle touch, it shook with a roar, threatening to crumble down.
His head hit something hard, and he found himself lying face forward on the ground, groaning. He slumped down, content on the floor itself as he tilted his head to watch. Such a nice performance. The women had floated back down, all of them staring at him as they danced.
