This is my first attempt at writing anything remotely sexual, so please bear with me. It's an expansion of the brief Dany/Irri scene that takes place about halfway through A Storm of Swords part 1, because it intrigued me so much the first time I read it.

Time passed, marked only by Irri's soft sleeping breaths and the occasional scuffle from the three cages opposite the bed, but sleep did not come to Daenerys. Not easily, not even with a good, solid struggle. She lay awake, eyes fixated upon the ceiling in the dark, tired in mind but her body was as restless as her dragons sounded, reduced to a fluttering ache, centred in her lower abdomen and spreading throughout her limbs. She stretched, careful not to jostle her handmaid, sighed, and gave up on sleep altogether. Irri stirred, brushing against Dany briefly, but did not awaken. For a moment she imagined herself in a larger bed, with a man for company, but her mind discarded the thought before it could take root. She had denied herself – and been denied, incidentally – such pleasures since the night her sun-and-stars died, and until recently it hadn't even crossed her mind. But now, only a woman hewn of marble would have been able to subdue such agonizing arousal. And Daenerys was merely a dragon, Unburnt but still subject to fire of a different sort.

It didn't help that the cabin was rather hot. Maybe it was just her, but her face felt uncomfortably flushed, her heart pumping with an aggravating vigour in her chest. She fidgeted and shifted, her movement hampered by the girl who slept beside her, all to no avail. She closed her eyes again, and breathed, in and out, trying ineffectually to soothe herself into some form of rest.

She froze with a gasp when her hand, which had been idly stroking her stomach, found its way between her thighs. Her fingers were already slick with moisture, something she hadn't felt in so long. She almost jerked her hand away in revulsion before it struck her. This was it, this was the release she so craved. Almost against her will, her fingertips began to move in slow, uncertain circles, feeling the softly-coarse hair, the silken wetness just beyond. She continued cautiously in this manner for a while before she touched a spot that sent a bolt of something up her spine, causing her to give a faint cry. Keeping as still and quiet as she could, she focused her attention on that area, feeling a fine point of pleasant, addictive heat begin to spread, bleeding outwards from where her fingers met her sex… but it was a tease, just a tease, it ebbed and swelled and left, flickering like candlelight until she almost screamed with frustration -

One of her dragons shrieked in her stead, as if in tune with her thoughts. Daenerys froze in place, and Irri sat up with a startled gasp, immediately looking towards her khaleesi, whose hand was still sweetly nestled between her legs.

Shame covered Dany like a mantle, and she pulled away from herself, lowering her eyes, face burning with more than arousal now. She was about to curl over and just try to sleep again when Irri stopped her with a gentle hand to the shoulder. Her face was impossible to make out in the darkness, it could have held an expression of compliance, disgust, or maybe even lust to match Dany's own, there was no way of telling. Either way, that gentle hand against her shoulder slid down to rest against her breast, thumb brushing tenderly over her nipple a moment before being replaced by her soft, warm lips. Daenerys did not speak a word, even when Irri's free hand began to slip down, down, down, finding the heat between her legs, already teased almost to the point of pain, but not yet quenched. Her fingers were more skilled than Dany's, yet she was so gentle, achingly so. They both remained silent even as her heart began to race again and sweat beaded on her brow and between her breasts. She twisted beneath Irri's capable hands, arching and moaning before the release she so avidly sought overtook her, every ounce of breath left her chest in what might have been a sigh and might have been another scream, and she fell back against the pillow, gasping.

Irri still did not make a sound, though there was the faintest flicker of movement in her face before she turned away. A smile? Perhaps. There was no time to ask before her breathing evened out into sleep once more.

Once her heart had slowed once more, Daenerys felt surprisingly calm. A stillness like nothing she had ever felt pervaded her entire body, and her eyelids grew heavy. She did not allow herself to dwell on what had just happened, or why it had happened. She glanced briefly over at Irri's sleeping form. Nothing had changed, all was just as it had been before she had awoken. The last few minutes might have been a dream, were it not for the satisfied warmth still glowing between her thighs. She laid a gentle hand against the handmaid's warm back, a silent thank-you. Then she closed her eyes and, at last, joined the girl in sleep.
For the first time in what felt like an eternity, she did not dream.


Again I say: first ever attempt at sexual writing. Constructive feedback is probably necessary and would therefore be greatly appreciated. Otherwise, I'd love to hear your thoughts. If you have any comments or requests, please let me know. Thanks for reading!

Note added 23/3/15: Whoa, this fic has officially broken 200 views! Thank you all for reading... but there's one thing bothering me. You're all really quiet. I appreciate the readership so, so much, but I'd love to hear from you all. For all I know, you're reading this and shaking your heads in silent disgust. Seriously, drop me a line, you lovely people.