Archive of Our Own ^beta

Unella tried so hard to be a good septa and a warrior now when it is needed.

She was a martyr like her dear High Sparrow. And everyone knows that martyrs do not get easy or quick deaths.

There was no reference in her books or prayers for something like Gregor Clegane.

It was dead, it was alive and it was monstrous. Strapped down, all she could do was stare and scream.

Oh she tried to pray oh yes she tried that oh yes, pray, pray, pray!

She screamed the prayers and gave her suffering up for the gods...

Never an answer. Not mercy, not glory, not death, not peace, nothing, dead silence, cold stale air and her own sobbing ragged breaths.

HE would come in.

He would shove a horn into her throat and sludge poured in. 

Slam his large cold hand across her face so Unella couldn't vomit, only swallow.

HE liked to see her flesh turn colors like a romantic couple enjoyed a rainbow.

Those hands would run across her flesh, play upon bruises, cuts and broken parts until Unella would scream or plead.

The hands would slide all over and then pause, to hear her freeze and gasp.

Whenever Unella thought she knew where Gregor would hurt her, she was wrong.

His hands would linger upon her broken rib then slide to another.

In a flash, the hands would crush delicate bones and cartilage in her foot, slowly, ever so slowly.

Another person came to see her and Unella prayed it was her death.

She sobbed when QYburn informed her it was not her execution, it was an examination.

"Ser Gregor and Queen Cersei have asked that I keep you in as excellent shape and health as I can. That of course might be a bit of a challenge considered the strength and size of your owner, dear girl. I will confess, I do love a good challenge and I am always eager to learn new things."

Unella panted and felt a numb hatred towards the amused man professing to be a maester.

"Now, I do need to unstrap you to examine you. Here are the rules, my dear. If I release your bonds and you behave for me, when I am done you may remain off the table. But. If you try to run, to fight or to hide, not only will you be restrained once more but I will go directly to Gregor with it. Consider to yourself how he will react to your shameful behavior?"

Nodding, Unella tried to find her voice.

The one she used was too thready with pain and fear. 

"Yes. I will behave. Please." 

The slightly crazed eyes seemed to glow happily and the mild voice spoke as his hands undid the restraints.

"I am amazed that you lasted this long in such good condition. I did spend some time with Gregor showing him a corpse. Together we studied the different more delicate bones in the body. We took a good look at cartilage, tendons and muscles. Nerves and more! It was informative and I see that Gregor put his new knowledge to very good use."

It would be useless to beg this man for help and Unella lay still, silent.

Qyburn grasped her shoulders and helped her to shift to a more natural position but still laying down.

The examination was pure hell and Unella tried so hard to pray.

"My dear, do that in your head if you must do it at all, if you please. I find those prayers quite jarring and disturbing. It's blasphemous in fact. For you, it is most certainly blasphemous for you. Terrible. You should not displease your god by praying to another."

Unella stared at the man, longing to curse him, longing to just snarl prayers into his face.

He almost seemed to be daring her with his eyes and questioning face.

Laying back again, Unella lowered her eyes and wished to her gods for courage and dignity.

There was more pain as Qyburn reset fractures and broken bones.

Sprains were wrapped tightly and dislocations were snapped back in place.

Splits and cuts from fists, teeth and nails were stitched or taped.

Qyburn helped the woman carefully get off the table.

"With both your feet broken up, you won't be able to walk, dear. I shall help set you down. The floor is freezing stone and you don't even have rags on. You are in luck, I am wearing my heaviest cloak today. We don't want you to sicken, do we? Here, use my cloak. I will tell Gregor myself that I gave it to you. Do not fear, your god worships his creator and his Queen. He will allow you to keep the gift."

Unella whispered her thanks as she knelt and allowed the man to wrap the warm velvet around her naked, damaged body.

Gregor didn't seem to care about the cloak.

He didn't care if she was wearing it to keep warm and he didn't care if she slept upon it.

He did seem to care greatly if she continued to wear it in his presence.

Unella figured that out right away after she tried huddling in it and he ripped it from her.

Ruthlessly, he whipped her with the cloak until her back bled.

Any time after that Unella knew to remove the cloak when Gregor entered the room.

Praying, praying, while she was tortured, while she was laying in agony, waiting for the next visit.

Nothing.

The only answer that ever arrived was in the form of Gregor or Qyburn.

Sometimes Qyurn wanted her to talk.

To answer questions and Unella hated it almost as much as having Qyburn treating her injuries.

Qyburn liked easy chatter while causing great pain and Unella tried to pray away her hatred and fear of the man.

Gregor didn't care if she talked or not.

Unella rarely spoke unless screaming, whining in agony, she began to lose her control, then words came spilling forth.

His reaction to this was interesting, the level of response depended upon what words she used.

If Unella was begging HIM, pleading for mercy, for forgiveness, for him to please STOP, it seemed to be heard, accepted and denied.

Praying, that was very different.

Gregor would hear Unella start to babble prayers, pleadings to her gods to ease her suffering and her sufferings grew much worse.

He would growl, truly deep growling and cold hands would clench hard on her head.

A squeeze and Unella would whimper as he drew her face close to his own.

Nothing was worse to her than having to look him in the swollen discolored face.

To stare into those eyes, it was like facing the moon.

There was nothing to reason with, no one to empathize with, nothing.

Pitiless blackness would flay through her mind, her eyes would burn with effort to meet the abyss.

"Pl...please. Sorry. I am. Sorry."

The words would timidly come forth and it would appease the monster that the woman understood.

Now would come the punishment for daring to pray to another god in his presence or at all really.

Fire, red hot brands with the Clegane sigil upon it and it presses hard into her back.

The restraints keep her still as the metal sizzles and melts into her flesh.

Unella screams but she doesn't dare pray out loud.

Do not ever pray out loud and she didn't.

In her head so many times she tried and tried but parts of the prayers were slipping away.

Fragments of hymns or stories the High Sparrow told got mixed in.

Without even knowing it, Unella began to learn.

Gregor liked her to have the cloak off her body and for her to crawl to him.

That took a little time to learn but she did, prayers or not.

At first, Unella tried to bolt away or hide under the table.

Gregor flipped the table over and kicked her until most of her ribs were cracked.

If she tried to bolt, Gregor would stomp down hard upon one of her broken feet.

Qyburn asked Unella if she was a virgin.

She looked up at the man and pursed her swollen, cracked lips.

"That is none of your concern."

In a heartbeat, Qyburn's whole demeanor changed and Unella whimpered briefly.

His voice was ice and his whole body, his face it was dark and terrible.

"It is none of my concern, girl? Have you forgotten who you are speaking to? Did Ser Gregor give you a head wound I am unaware of?"

Unella was cringing, flinching and wrapped her arms tightly around herself.

She was speaking with someone who has tools and experience to cause her horrific agony...who will then tell HIM of her behavior.

"Please...forgive me. I...I am so sorry, I am very sorry. Please, forgive me, I was rude, I am so sorry."

If her gods existed, they would be turning their heads away in disgust and shame at the pitiful, shameful begging.

It appeased Qyburn though and Unella was sure that was all that mattered.

"I forgive you. You will have to watch that tongue or Gregor might take it out. I am offering you good advice, I hope you use it. I know your Master does."

Unella shivered and nodded meekly, she kept her eyes low.

"Now, the answer to my question, please. Are you a virgin?"

With a red face, Unella nodded and Qyburn beamed.

"Excellent! Gregor and I have discovered he is most certainly capable of the same needs any man can have. Though I should warn you, his size is quite impressive and perhaps of a strange color. And consider both your Master's size as well as his rather savage ways...I will strongly suggest that you do not disobey or displease him when he decides to mate with you."

Unella turned pale and swayed, almost falling off the table.

"I know this is very difficult to absorb but you really must try and pay attention. Listen carefully. Not all of Gregor's conquests survive his attentions. He does not like to be irritated. One time he exploded a woman's head with his hands as he raped her. Oh wait, my fault, dear. He did do that but it was an order from another. However, there was another girl he was with. She wouldn't stop cursing or spitting and he bit her tongue off. Then a feisty maid he grabbed, she tried to struggle, to fight and he broke every bone in her body as he raped her. She died as well, he broke her neck when he...finished."

Whimpering, Unella shook her head frantically.

"Please...don't make me do that...not with HIM. I can't...please, just let me die intact?"

It was the first time that Unella dared to beg Qyburn for anything and the last.

Qyburn gave a disapproving frown and Unella shocked herself when she just dissolved.

"Forgive, forgive me! I am scared, I don't mean to ask for anything..please, sorry. Please, mercy?"

The pathetic begging, sobbing and pleading, shaking hands adorned with broken fingers seemed to placate the maester.

Unella knows her basic rules.

Gregor enters the chamber and she is naked, no cloak to hide her wounds or her body.

She is no longer hiding, running or fighting, Unella kneels, trembling, head down and waits.

This seems to please the monster as he doesn't start with kicking or punching as a greeting.

Instead he strides over and Unella finds herself curling into a ball as if she shrinks while he grows.

She emits a high pitched pleading whine as his boots thud to a stop in front of her.

Still and silent, Unella waits for the pain, to be forced into a good position for torture.

This doesn't happen, just these boots in front of her.

Unella is afraid to move or his boot will smash her face into sludge.

Jerking, inching, Unella lifts her face and puts her split lips against the bloody, muck covered boots.

She can taste shit, blood and dirt, lips pressed still, Unella dared to roll her eyes up to see if this was appeasing the giant.

It was an impossible distance to look and it made her whimper to finally see that face.

The hunger on his face, the glitter in the dark beady eyes told Unella that it pleased him.

She stayed that way until his large cold hand came down upon her head.

It cradled her whole skull and even though the movement was gentle, Unella began to cry in pure mindless fear.

He did not crush her skull or pull her up by her head, Gregor simply held her head for a moment then released it.

Unella saw that it was the monster's way of rewarding her for pleasing him.

She wanted to bellow insane bitter laughter but turned it into soft sobs.

The moment was over and Gregor shoved Unella onto her back.

Unella remembered what Qyburn had said and began to panic.

She didn't dare to try to struggle or try and move away.

Panting, whining, Unella shook her head wildly, curling into a small ball.

Gregor gave her an awful leering smile and she screamed when he opened his breeches.

"Please, you can't! It's too big, it won't fit, I have never even...not once! Please, don't!"

He reached for her and even in Unella's blind hysteria, she dared not pull away.

As if she were a doll, Gregor moved her into the positions he wanted.

Unella continued to try and plead with him but knew it was useless.

To allow a dead man into her body, into a septa's body, it is desecration!

This rung into Unella's head as she felt cold fingers trace her breasts, squeeze them until she screamed for mercy.

A mouth so cold, a nearly dry tongue, a too large one, too rough, scraping across her nipples, her neck.

Unella tried to pray, tried to remember a full prayer, to recall a hymn.

Legs yanked open, spread so far apart that they were mere inches from dislocation.

Cold flesh, a hand rubbing, spreading her apart to look and Unella tried to reach the silent gods.

A grunt, Unella knew it meant HE was pleased with what he saw and that was good.

It wasn't good, it was desecration but there were no gods telling her so, just Unella's own voice in her head.

Cold fingers touched the most hidden parts of her and Unella clenched her fists, sobbing.

One freezing digit, already a huge finger and it forced its way into her tight warmth.

Unella cried out and silently screamed to the Seven to save her or to at least soothe her.

Two fingers shoved inside of her now and they were spreading the tender insides of her, invading her.

Gregor seemed to enjoy listening to Unella plead and yelp as he began to work the fingers harder and rougher.

When he yanked his fingers out of her, Unella gasped in relief and sagged against the stone floor.

The man towered over her, stole every inch of air and space when he knelt between her tortured, quivering in strain, spread legs.

Unella stared wildly at the purple-blue huge club of flesh and screamed.

This made the man's chest puff more and he grew larger, fiercer right before her eyes.

He dropped down over her and for a second Unella though she would be crushed to death.

Gregor caught himself with his hands on either side of Unella.

His face hovered over hers and Unella started to sob like a child, like a too scared little girl.

"Please, don't, don't hurt me like that. It will kill me, it's too big, please don't!"

He made a humming, buzzing sound and grabbed her fists which instantly felt as tiny as doll hands but twice as useless.

It took seconds, just pressure upon already broken or sprained fingers for Unella to understand and relax her hands, no fists.

Another small humming sound and Unella understood it meant he was pleased.

As Gregor moved Unella's hands towards his strange, rigid flesh, she recalled Qyburn's tales of victims that displeased HIM.

Whimpering, she found herself touching, then grasping the cold, soft and yet hard part of HIM.

Praying hard, any prayer, any hymn, any symbol or face she can recall, but it is very hard to recall.

Her hands moved as he guided her and Unella thought maybe the gods were listening.

A quick flash of hope for their existence.

Maybe they heard her and that is why Gregor is letting her use her hands instead of her body.

Gregor smashed that belief to bits when he shoved her hands away and laid her flat again.

He moved so that his immense flesh was nudging at her small entrance.

Unella wailed and had to force herself not to squirm, not to struggle.

Oh sweet mercy of the gods, it was pain, it was a battle ram smashing into a castle.

Unella screamed and began to pray, chanting words that might be praise, might be a hymn or a prayer, she cannot tell.

She did out loud by pure accident.

He froze, dead silent, dead still and his eyes bored into hers, there was emotion after all.

Unella could clearly see the anger, the displeasure she has caused him.

Qyburn's voice slithered through her head in the space where no gods had responded.

The maester had warned her of displeasing him, yes, but something else important was said.

Quickly as it can, Unella's breaking, jumbled mind tried to flicker though the memories of Qyburn's visits to her.

He warned her never to pray for other gods aloud if at all, how upset Gregor would be if she prayed to other gods.

Cersei's voice sliced through her brain matter, hissing that Gregor is her god now.

Unella's mind and soul fell with the horrid, heavy truth of it all.

With great timid respect and allowing her pain to seep into her voice, not daring to hide anything from a god, she spoke.

"Please forgive me. You are my only God, my Master. Please, mercy, I am sorry, I will never pray to anyone but you. I...I will cry and scream and beg only you! Please, please don't bite out my tongue or crush me!"

A terrible growling and Gregor's fist crashed into her cheek hard enough that it might have been broken.

He bit at her flesh and began to pump into her, forcing her tightness to open, to rip and give way.

Unella begged, pleaded and screamed her desperate prayers to her brutal god.

He did not eat her tongue, break her bones or crush her head and Unella knew that it was mercy.

Gregor was savage but careful.

He wrapped his hand around the small throat and squeezed until Unella was nearly purple.

Shuddering with a terrible new pleasure, Gregor moaned and released her throat along with his dead, cold seed.

Unella felt sick, she felt torn apart and maybe that is just how it feels to be touched, blessed, by a God.

His eyes, they were sated, they were swirling with some new emotion.

Unella saw that it was the first time for Gregor too, in a way.

It might have been a bad experience for Unella but this was something Gregor could truly feel that was truly pleasurable.  

Shuddering, Unella lay still as Gregor stared at her, fixing himself, towering over her.

The slight leer he managed on his face told Unella that this will not be her only rape.

With a whimper, Unella tried to drag her limbs back to her and curl up.

A thud.

Unella looked at the boots in front of her face and she quickly kissed them.

This seemed to please her God.

He left without causing her further pain.

Gregor sent Qyburn only a mere hour or few later and Unella felt blessed.

Her god was pleased and has allowed her the mercy of healing.

Even the painful degradation of having Qyburn put stitches in her most private of places was a mercy.

Unella made sure when the pain made her cry out, that she only gave prayers that were approved.

"Please...it hurts so much! Please!"

Qyburn would give a warm chuckle and allow a second of respite, giving her a sip of water.

Gregor did not visit Unella for a few days while she healed and he did work for the Queen.

Unella received all her news and information from Qyburn.

She made sure to pay attention as he spoke but during her long hours alone, the information gets all jumbled.

Unella was both terrified and pleased when Gregor appeared in the doorway of her chamber.

She made a keening sound she couldn't prevent and huddled low to the stones.

Her forehead rested upon the freezing stone.

No thud of a boot in her face this time.

Unella peeked up when Gregor did not move towards her.

The huge man stood just inside the closed door but he did not move.

One hand extended forth and he pointed a finger, at Unella, then at his boots.

Unella began to crawl forward, staying very low but peeking up to be sure she was doing what He wished.

Gregor remained pointing at his boot until Unella was pressed down upon the stones, kissing his boots.

So many long hours alone with only her own voice in her head to guide her.

There were no written or memorized words to soothe her from the silent gods.

Instead when Unella's own head voice was spiraling, new ones took over.

Qyburn's calm, soft yet menacing voice would counsel her.

Cersei's sweet hissing would censure any thoughts that seemed...traitorous, blasphemous.

Cloak dragging behind her, Unella would stretch, crawl and when feeling as if she would go mad, she would try to stand.

On a very good day, she could stand and take a few limping steps before falling down in exhaustion and pain.

It was allowed as long as Unella always told Qyburn of it and showed him exactly what she did.

Someday, Unella may walk again but the maester warned her against ever standing in Gregor's presence unless HE wishes it.

With solemn honesty, Unella promises that she would never dare stand before HIM.

It is not even a thought in her head, not unless she wishes to panic herself.

Unella knows her place is to grovel at his feet, to worship him and obey.

So many hours alone, even with the sporadic visits with Qyburn isn't enough.

Another reward, another mercy from her Master, was an end to the forced feeding.

Three times a day, the door creaks open, a hand shoves a tray with water and real food in.

How can she complain of anything even if she is alone for a long time?

Unella bowed her head then chided herself.

She had a warm cloak, good food and water, lit torches.

Qyburn visits to check on her injuries and speak with her. 

With Gregor on his mission, she is not being injured, Unella is resting and healing.

She should be grateful for such a mercy! She was. Truly.

Yet when Gregor entered the chamber after so long, Unella felt a sick thrill along with a sinking dread to finally see him again.

Kissing at his boots as he commanded, Unella dripped tears without even noticing it.

Without any thought to it, there wasn't a single thing in her head but shining gratitude mixed with hysterical terror as she kissed both boots.

A humming buzzing sound and a large hand covered her head.

Unella went still and sobbed in relief as her god favored her with his cold mercy.

The hand grew tighter and drew her up onto her knees.

Gregor had another way for Unella to worship him.

She choked and passed out once but Gregor was relentless in his need.

Her knees were scraped bloody on the stones and her throat bruised before the former septa learned how to suck and swallow.

Gregor was still fixing his breeches when Unella's food slid into the room.

He used his boot to slide the bowls over to her then he stood there, waiting.

Unella was confused, why would he want to watch her eat?

A single twitch of his boot reminded Unella that he was waiting to see her eat.

Not daring to make Gregor impatient, Unella quickly pulled herself into a sitting position. 

She reached for the bowl of fruit chunks and Gregor kicked it so hard that the bowl shattered against the wall.

Unella felt fruit splatter over her hands and face then a boot kicked her chest.

She fell onto her back and tried to remember how to draw in a breath.

Gregor kicked her legs open and rested his boot upon her.

It started to slowly press down and Unella began to whine softly, pleadingly.

Gregor pressed harder until Unella began to fear he was about to crush things.

"Please, mercy! Master! I am sorry! Please, I don't understand what I did!"

Gregor tilted his head as if to consider this then removed his boot.

He grabbed Unella by her hair and dragged her over to the water bowl.

Forcing her onto her hands and knees in front of it. 

His boot lifted then rested with warning upon her head.

Whining, Unella stared down at the water and it clicked.

Lowering her head, Unella began to lap with her tongue.

The weight of the boot went away.

Unella was allowed to drink half of her water before Gregor moved the bowl onto the table.

She understood the table was off limits, so was using her hands to eat.

Gregor has become excited again and he did need to punish her for daring to eat like a person.

There was yet still a hole left to explore upon his pet and he was looking forward to how much terror and pain it will bring her.

Oh, his little pet, his fearful worshiper, how she prayed and sang her torment out to him.

Pressed against the stone wall, held up by Gregor's own body, Unella sobbed and begged.

She told him how much it hurt, how scared she was, how she will be a good girl, please, mercy and it only made Gregor bigger in his own eyes as well as hers.

He pounded into her and Unella surrendered, sobbed, screamed and prayed to her god for mercy.

Qyburn came to visit much sooner this time but Unella was already on the table.

When Gregor had his orgasm rip through him, he slammed into her, whacking her head into the stones.

The world went black and she woke up laying on the table, the restraints not upon her.

To her surprise, the maester gave her milk of the poppy before he told her of the terrible area that he would be stitching up.

"Gregor indicated to me that you might be allowed some pain relief while you are being treated. You must have pleased him."

Unella closed her eyes and drifted away but remembered to be thankful and grateful for her god's cold mercies.