Chapter 9
Ned
The king’s party had ridden into Winterfell in their hundreds. A veritable tide of silver, gold and polished steel, with banners blazing like the sun. Robert had ridden at the front of the column, though Ned scarcely recognised him.
When they had ridden against Aerys, Robert had been clean-shaven, clear-eyed and muscled like a maiden’s fantasy. At six and a half feet tall, he was of a height with Ned and they towered over men together. When he had donned his full plate armour and his antlered helm, with Foesmasher in his hand he looked half a god. In those days, the scent of blood, leather and rain had clung to him like perfume.
Now it was perfume that clung to him like perfume. Robert had also managed to achieve a girth to match his considerable height.
He must’ve gained ten stone since the Greyjoy rebellion.
Ned knew he did not look as he did in his youth. His dark hair had a few streaks of grey in it now. Cat, Ash and Elia all said they loved it, that it made him look more dignified. But Ned suspected they were just trying to make him feel better. Though seeing Robert now, Ned thanked the gods his deterioration had not been worse.
He pitied Robert’s horse, as his gut was immense, with a coarse beard covered his once chiselled jaw. One that had once looked strong enough to carve stone, now was likely a second and third chin for the King. Ned also did not fail to note how tired Robert looked, noting the dark circles under his eyes.
They had said a few words together before Robert had asked to be taken to the crypts, in spite of his wife’s wishes. Ned couldn’t help but love him for that, perhaps mixed with a little guilt over how Lyanna felt about Robert.
Leaving Fang to guard the entrance, they went down into the crypts together, Ned leading the way down the narrow, winding steps. He held his hand aloft, having formed a ball of glowing blue ice, showing the way with it’s ethereal light. Ned did not need it, as his magically enhanced senses allowed him to see very clearly in the dark. Robert, however did need the assistance and Ned imagined it would be terribly inconvenient if Robert fell down the stairs and landed on him.
“I was starting to think we’d never reach Winterfell.” Robert complained as they descended down the steps, both keeping a firm grip on the railing so they would not slip on the damp stones. “In the south, they talk of the realm as seven kingdoms. Almost easy to forget your kingdom is as big as the other six combined.”
“I trust you enjoyed the journey, your grace?”
Robert snorted in response. “Gods, it’s too cold by half and it just seems to go on forever. Outside of this city, we barely saw anyone. Where are all your people Ned!?”
“Likely they were too shy to come out.” Ned jested. He could hear Robert shiver behind him as the cold air rose up the stairs to greet them. “Kings are a rare sight in the North.”
Robert barked out a laugh. “Ha! I saw Giants for the first time in twenty fucking years, don’t talk to me about rare sights. More likely they were hiding under the snow. Snow, Ned?!” Robert stumbled slightly, he put a hand on the wall to steady himself.
“Late summer snows are common enough.” Ned said. “I hope you weren’t troubled by them. They’re usually mild.”
“Mild, he says… Others take your mild snows.” Robert swore. “I remember you would come out into the training yard in the Eyrie in a light shirt when the rest of us were wearing more layers than a Septon!”
“That wasn’t cold.” Ned answered Robert. This was a very old argument for them. Robert was always astounded that Ned didn’t need a dozen layers just to go outside in the snow.
“It fucking well was cold and if this is the North in summer, I dread to think of what it’s like in the winter.”
“The winters are hard.” Ned admitted. “But the Starks endure. We always have. We’ve ice in our veins Robert. We were made for the cold.”
“You need to come south.” Robert insisted. “You need a taste of summer before it flees. In Highgarden…” Robert’s droning washed over Ned like waves on a beach.
It was a skill he had learned early in their friendship, to just let Robert talk and partially ignore him. Ned loved Robert like a brother, but he had to admit Robert loved the sound of his own voice. The vast majority of his ramblings were of how the south had great food and lusty women. Ned was well satisfied with the food in the North and he had no lack of women. Robert had always been a man of ample appetites, a man who knew how to take his pleasures.
Of course, Ned was hardly in a position to judge Robert about women, though Ned rarely ever used whores. It was always noble-born ladies who would throw themselves at him, much to his astonishment sometimes. But even so, Ned knew not to indulge to excess. He could see taking a large helping of those pleasures had exacted a heavy toll on the king. Robert was breathing heavily as they reached the correct level and stepped off the stairs, his face was as red as a beetroot as he stepped into the crypts.
“I could not see Lyanna in the yard.” Robert said, tentatively. “Has she been receiving my letters? I did ask for her to be there.”
“The North is vast, your grace.” Ned told him. “It can take a long time to travel.” It was true, but not the reason Lyanna wasn’t there. She did not want to have Robert fawning over her, she had left Winterfell heading for Larkrise a week before Robert had arrived. Ned knew Lyanna had hoped Robert’s infatuation with her would diminish after all these years. It seemed she was wrong.
“Is she well?” Robert asked. “Is she enjoying being a Witcher?”
“Very much.” Ned smiled. “She wasn’t built for being a Lady, a life on the road, fighting monsters suits her.”
“Would suit us both, I think… Well… I’m glad she’s happy. I would hope to see her again before we head south.”
“Your grace.” Ned said, respectively. Ned indicated to the other end, the blue light dancing across the granite pillars and statues. “She’s down at the end, with father and Brandon.”
Robert followed Ned to Lyra’s tomb. He could practically hear the king shivering in the chill of the crypt. The sounds of their footsteps rang off the hard surfaces as they walked among Ned’s dead ancestors and their wolves. The deceased Lords of Winterfell watched over them with blind eyes. Their likenesses carved into the stones that sealed their frozen remains into their tombs, with great stone direwolves curled around their feet. In the custom of house Stark, a pure Uru longsword lay across the lap of every statue, to protect their Stark.
The two men stopped at last, even though the crypt carried on far ahead of them. Beyond this point the tombs were empty and unsealed. Tombs that he and his children would fill. But Ned did not like to think on that.
“Here.” He held up the glowing ice, bathing the marker for Lyanna’s daughter in blue light. She had been so young, they could not even make a statue for her. Seeing his little sister place her stillborn daughter had been a sight Ned would never forget.
Robert nodded solemnly and knelt, bowing his head. There were four tombs, side by side. Lyarra and Rickard Stark, Ned’s mother and father. They sat close together, with two smaller sepulchres on either side of them, housing Brandon and on the other side, Lyanna’s little Lyra. Ned’s older brother had been twenty when he died, murdered by the Mad King along with his father. Lyra had never even had a chance to draw breath.
Ned had loved his family with all his heart. There were still days where he would weep at their passing. They left only him Lyanna and Benjen alone in the world. That wasn’t really true, but sometimes it felt like it was. Even after all these years, after they had built new families for themselves, their hearts still ached for their first family.
“I could have been her father.” Robert’s words drew Ned from his thoughts, her looked to him in confusion. Robert huffed as he awkwardly got back to his feet. His weight making it a decidedly difficult task. “Not like that.” His voice was hoarse. “If she had lived, I would have loved her like she was my own. She was Lyanna’s daughter, they might have stayed in King’s Landing then.”
“Lyanna would have wanted to return to the North if her child had lived or died.” Ned quietly responded. “She belongs here.”
“She belonged with me.” Robert said, bitterly. He brushed his hand along the gravestone, as gently as if he was handling a babe. “I can understand her never wanting another man after what that shit-stain did to her.” Ned didn’t have the heart to tell Robert that Lyanna had a Stark’s appetite for partners in her bed. He must have believed Lyanna had sworn off relationships entirely after her ordeal. “In my dreams… I kill him every night.”
Ned shifted uncomfortably next to Robert. He had hated Rhaegar for years, but the passing of time dulls extremes. Eventually, a time came where Ned could not bring himself to have such virulent hatred for a man who’d been dead for over a decade.
“The Targaryens are gone.” Ned said, finally.
It was true. Robert had seized all the dragon eggs of house Targaryen, along with their castles and their crown. The former queen Rhaella was somewhere in Essos with her children. Ned hoped she was living a comfortable life away from Westeros, with no intention to return.
“You’ve one under your own roof.” Robert scoffed.
“Careful now...” Ned warned. He donned his ‘Lord’s Face’ as Cat named it, and looked Robert squarely in the eye. Rhaenys didn’t count as a Targaryen. She was practically entirely Elia. “She is to marry my heir. She has been a daughter to me.”
“And so you give her a dragon?” Robert said through gritted teeth, sparks arching along Foesmasher. Then the anger left Robert’s face and he took a deep breath. “I do not wish to quarrel with you Ned...”
“Nor I, with you...” Ned responded. Meeting after so many years brought back raw memories for them both. They both began to start back the way they had come, both having had enough of the crypts. There was a tense pause in the air as both men walked in the darkness of the catacombs.
“Tell me what happened to Jon.” Ned tried to break the silence.
Robert shook his head. “I’ve never seen a man sicken so quickly. One day he was fine, the next… We held a tourney for my son’s nameday. If you had seen Jon then, you would have thought he’d live forever. A fortnight later he was dead. The fever burned right through him.” Robert stood still beside the statue of some long dead Stark. “I loved that old man.”
“We both did.”
Robert put a massive arm around Ned’s shoulder. “You must have wondered why I came all this way to the North, after so long.”
“For the joy of my company, surely.” Ned jested. “And the North does have many beautiful places to see.”
“I will no-doubt see them.” Robert answered him. “But right now, I have more pressing concerns. These are difficult times we live in. I need good men around me…” Here it comes. “I have need of you, Ned. Down in King’s Landing, not up here where you’re no use to anyone.” My life and heart are in the North.“Prince Eddard Stark, I would name you the Hand of the King.”
Ned reflexively dropped to one knee. It was completely un-surprising. Robert was offering him power that all men craved. The Hand spoke with the King’s voice, drafted the King’s laws and even sat on the Iron Throne, on occasion. Only Robert would have more power and status than him. It was the last thing in the world Ned wanted.
“Your grace…” he said. “I’m not worthy of the honour…” Robert clearly wasn’t falling for it.
“Honour you? You’ll be the one to run my kingdom for me while I eat and drink and whore myself into and early grave.” He laughed. The echos rang through the darkness, all around them the statues of the Starks seemed to gaze at Robert in silent judgment. Ned felt they were looking at him too. “Come now, you practically won the throne for me, now help me keep the damn thing. We were meant to rule together.” Robert paused as Ned got to his feet. “If not for Rhaegar, we would have been bound by blood. Well, it’s not too late. I have a son, you have a daughter, quite a few I think.” Robert guffawed again. “Gods know how you managed to get so many children. So it’ll be my Joff and your Alysanne-“
“Alys is betrothed already.” Ned informed Robert. He didn’t suppose Robert would accept his son having to share his wife with another man.
“Ah, shit…” Robert swore. “Alright, your next oldest girl is… Sansa yes?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Well it’ll be Sansa and Joff then. Now agree to everything and lets be done with it.”
“Nothing would give me greater pleasure, your grace.” Ned answered, then hesitated. “May I have some time to consider? I will need to tell my wives-“
“Yes! Yes. Tell them. You have quite a few wives too.” Robert laughed again. “Gods only know how you managed to find so many women who would accept it.” They walked a few more steps together. “Just don’t keep we waiting too long, Ned. I’m not the most patient of men.” Robert paused for a moment. “Thank you for not asking about Stormbreaker…” he said.
“I knew there had to be a reason you didn’t ride him into Winterfell.”
“He’s not the dragon he once was…” Robert said solemnly.
“What happened?”
“Age I expect. He’s grown frail and sickly these past two years.”
“That doesn’t usually happen to dragons…” Ned thought back to Cannibal, the Mad King’s dragon. How it was so frail and weak it barely put up a fight against Snowsong. Common knowledge said that dragons reflected their riders somewhat. Robert’s deterioration could have had an effect on Stormbreaker.
“Maybe you can have your Druids take a look at him when you come south?” Robert asked, concern clear in his voice. Ned was sure of two things in regards to Robert: He would never harm him and he loved his dragon deeply.
“Of course…”
“If nothing else, it’ll be good for him to see Snowsong again. He’s never taken to any other dragon like he did to her.” Robert chuckled, Ned joined him. It was true, Stormbreaker had given her a number of eggs over the time they had spent together.
Ned did not quite know what to think. Winterfell and the North were his home. He did not want to leave and the news about Stormbreaker was also unsettling. The eyes of my ancestors are on me.He thought. They were watching and listening, judging his actions. And winter was coming.
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Winterfell’s great hall was hazy with smoke and heavy with the smell of roasted meat and fresh-baked bread. Gone were the tapestries depicting the old Kings of Winter, in their place hung many banners of white, gold and crimson. The direwolf of Stark, Baratheon’s crowned stage and the lion of Lannister could be seen on every wall and hanging from the ceiling. Bards and musicians were singing and playing merrily all along the hall. Though, Ned could barely hear them over the roaring fires and the murmur of five hundred half drunken conversations.
By Ned’s reckoning, they had just reached the fourth hour of the welcoming feast for Robert and his party. Ned and Robert sat at the head of the high-table on a raised platform with their wives. Ned’s brood were seated with the royal children below them.
As the feast had began, Ned had lead the queen into the hall and helped her to her seat. She was certainly beautiful, with a jewelled tiara nestled in her long golden hair. She also wore a jewelled necklace that had a feint glow to it. Ned knew it to be magical, he had heard stories of the queen exposing women of the court for using magic to make themselves look more beautiful. She needed no such enhancement and would look quite poorly upon anyone who did, humiliating them in front of the lords and ladies of Westeros.
To Ned, that seemed a very cruel thing to do, yet vanity could drive someone to cruel acts. He had tried to make conversation with her, yet she seemed far too haughty to indulge him, her false smile was plain for Ned to see.
After Ned had come Robert, with Cat and Ash on his arms. While Rhaenys had decided to attend the feast with Robb, Elia had opted out, feigning illness. Ned could hardly blame her. He wasn’t too pleased to be eating alongside Lannisters after what their father had done to Elia. Ned’s wives were a vision of beauty, they were wearing the same dresses they had worn on Elia’s last name-day. Deep-cut, red with blue and silver with purple. They happily beamed at Ned as his eyes, and the eyes of most other men in the hall were glued to them. He could practically feel the queen’s irritated expression as she sat next to him.
Robert looked quite the opposite. Where once, there stood an attractive man in his youth, now there was a fat man, red-faced under his beard, sweating through his silks. To Ned, he seemed already half into his cups. Thankfully, Ash and Cat had managed to guide Robert to his chair without incident.
After them, had come all the children. It took them quite a while.
First was Robb, with Rhaenys on his arm. Then Jon flanked on either side by the Ryder twins. Alysanne strutted through the hall with her own betrothed. Sansa and Arya walked with Prince Joffrey and the plump Prince Tommen.
Alyrianne escorted Robert’s oldest child, the beautiful Princess Myrcella and after them came Bran and little Arthur, with Rickon and Alaric. Ned had been gladdened to see that all managed go without issue. Especially his youngest two, who marched across the hall will all the dignity a six year old and a seven year old could muster. After all had been seated, toasts were made, thanks were given and returned and the feasting had finally began.
“This is a great feast Ned!” Robert said loudly as he tore into some boar meat. By now, Ned imagined he had eaten more than the rest of the table put together. Cersei was demurely eating small portions as Ash and Cat made conversation with her. Ned could see Benjen was sat with his wife and Beric, with Lemore and Sylvie sitting on the chairs next to them.
“I’m happy to hear you’re enjoying yourself.” Ned answered. “We don’t throw too many feasts for kings in the North.”
“Ha! Well this one’s far better than any i’ve been to in the south.” Robert laughed. “There was that one at Casterly Rock. Gods! What a boring feast that was.” Ned noticed the queen give Robert a sour look.
In some ways Ned pitied her. Robert wasn’t the easiest person to get along with sometimes. Ned dreaded to think what it would be like to be married to him, let alone when he clearly loved another woman.
“You have fine children, your grace.” Ned said to Cersei, trying to include her. Her green eyes fixed with his, like a haughty cat looking at it’s owner disapprovingly.
“Yes.” She answered. “Your Sansa is likely to do well as Joff’s wife. It seems such a pity for a beauty like that to be hidden away in the North.”
She is three years Joffrey’s senior.
“You are… too kind, your grace.” Cat said courteously.
“I wanted Myrcella to marry one of your boys, then we could have the ceremony now. Not wait a few years for both to grow.” Robert said, then gestured his thumb in Cersei’s direction. “But this one said she didn’t want her daughter to become one wife of many.”
Ned had heard tales from the south that the queen had rejected every single one of the numerous offers to marry Myrcella. Even now, as a woman grown, she didn’t even have a hint of a betrothal. As a parent he could understand wanting only the best for his child, but to a point. Surely the princess would have liked a match by now.
“Myrcella is incredibly beautiful.” Ash said. “Any one of our sons would be lucky to have her.”
“Surely you mean Lady Catelyn’s sons.” Cersei asked. “Your sons are less than half Myrcella’s age.”
“My children are Ash’s too. Just as hers are mine.” Cat interrupted. Ned could see both of his wives didn’t like the queen.
“Where’s that Targaryen of yours?” Robert asked loudly, after taking a mouthful of Dornish red. The whole table went silent. Ned looked to his wives, who looked back at him tensely. “Come on Ned, where is she?” Robert got a bit louder.
Forgive me, Elia.
“Rhaenys.” Ned called to the table below them. “Can you come here for a moment?”
Rhaenys looked up from her conversation with Alysanne in surprise, before a look of resignation fell on her face. Ned gave her an apologetic look as she rose from her seat and made her way up the steps. She was wearing an orange and yellow dress that had been tailored in the Dornish style. She stood in front of them, her back straight, her hands clasped behind her.
“So you’re Rhaegar’s daughter…” Robert said as he drained his cup again. Rhaenys seemed to tense at his words. Ned, Cat and Ash all tried to give her reassuring looks.
“I do not know Rhaegar, your grace.” She said. “Prince Stark is the only father i’ve ever known.” Pride swelled in Ned’s chest. “A much finer choice. I’m sure you’ll agree.”
“Aye.” Robert laughed. “You’re certainly a pretty one… Pretty indeed. I reckon Robb Stark feels quite lucky.”
Rhaenys couldn’t help but smile at the mention of Robb. “Winterfell is my home.” She said proudly. “I will marry Robb Stark and bare his children.”
“Does it not vex you to know I sit on your family’s chair?” Robert asked.
“Robert.” Ned warned, placing a hand on his arm.
“My family is house Martell.” Rhaenys affirmed. “Soon to be house Stark. To which to you refer?”
Robert laughed at that, then held her in his gaze for a few moments. “You can go back to the feast now.” Robert told her, seemingly unsatisfied.
“Wait.” Cersei said as Rhaenys turned to leave.
She got up and walked to Rhaenys, not saying a word. Her necklace was glowing, she seemed to be looking intently at Rhaenys, as if she was searching for something. Rhaenys held her gaze the entire time, before the queen turned away with an irritated expression and went back to her seat.
“Sit, Rhaenys.” Ned quickly told her, she curtsied gracefully, before walking briskly back to her seat.
“Is that the necklace i’ve heard so much about?” His Tully wife asked the queen. Ned could see anger in his wives eyes. They could be quite protective of Rhaenys, having raised her alongside their own children.
“Yes. It banishes magical illusions and shows you who someone really is.” The queen answered.
“Certainly does that...” Ned heard Ash say quietly into her wine cup.
“I need no such illusions to make myself beautiful. It is wrong that even the most ugly woman can gain beauty when the gods did not deem them worthy of it.” It seemed to be something Cersei Lannister cared deeply for.
“You shall find no such illusions in this hall.” Ash challenged her.
Cersei leaned closer to Ash and Cat. For a second Ned was worried she might do something. Her necklace was glowing brighter. Cersei’s eyes were scanning Ash and Cat, who were looking back at her defiantly. “So it would seem...” she relented eventually.
Ned could see Cat was beginning to get angrier. She had a temper fiery enough to match her hair sometimes. Don’t do it, Cat. He mouthed to her. She ignored him. “There are many kinds of beauty, your grace. Just as there are many kinds of ugliness. It seems the gods have gifted you with both in equal measures.”
Fuck…
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Jon
This must have been one of the biggest feasts Winterfell ever had. The great hall was full to bursting with people. Smoke, song and the scent of food filled the air. People were bustling and eating and drinking merrily together.
They were sitting on the lower table at this feast, just below their parents, who sat with the King and Queen. The feast had been going on for many hours, the youngest of Jon’s siblings had already gone to bed. He was sitting with Robb, Alys, Rhaenys, Val and Ygritte.
Both of the brothers and their sister were wearing grey wool, trimmed with white. The colours of their house. Alysanne was a near perfect mirror of their second mother, Ashara. Jon knew she had ensnared many a man and woman with her iliac eyes. Rhaenys was a vision of Dornish and Valyrian beauty. She had chosen to dress in the Dornish style: yellow and orange silks, favouring her mother’s house and a plunging neckline. Something both Robb and Jon had appreciated greatly.
Val was regal in a pure white dress, her honey-blonde hair in one large braid that went down to her waist. Her bright blue eyes sparkled in the light of the candles. Lovely and lethal would be how Jon would describe her.
Next to Jon, sat Ygritte, wearing light blue and white, with the insignia of the Ice Guard displayed proudly on her breast. If Jon was ever forced to pick his favourite woman, it would be Ygritte. He could never voice his thoughts, but Ygritte was his greatest love. While Alysanne, Rhaenys and Val were much more conventionally beautiful, in Jon’s mind, Ygritte had them all beat.
Her hair was an untameable mass of copper curls, falling well past her shoulders. She was quite a bit shorter than Alysanne, Val and Rhaenys. Some of her teeth were a little crooked and her nose had been broken by a shield bash in the training yard when she was four-and-ten. To this day, he was still apologising for that mishap.
But to Jon, all these imperfections only magnified her allure. Sitting next to her now, the light of the candles was making her red hair shine. Her husky voice was low as she regaled them with a tale of how she slew a minotaur, making gestures with her knife. She was the most beautiful woman in the world. There was a freedom to her that Jon could not compare. She was completely un-afraid to be herself.
“I suggest you take her out to a corridor, before you bend her over the table in front of the entire hall.” Val’s whisper surprised him somewhat. She giggled as Jon turned and gave her a look.
“I wasn’t thinking of that.” He lied.
“Yes you were. I know you Jon Stark.” Val had a cheshire grin on her beautiful face.
Their conversation was interrupted by Ghost, who nuzzled his way in between them, to get to most of a roasted chicken that was still on it’s platter. All of their direwolves were wandering around the halls, taking what food they wanted.
None would stop them, as they weren’t brave enough to tell a four-thousand pound wolf ‘No.’ His father’s direwolf had even taken food from the high table. The king had roared in laughter when Fang had taken a boar’s head off the table and quickly trotted away to share it with his cubs.
“Who’s a good boy.” Val said as she lovingly scratched Ghost behind his ear. Ghost chuffed affectionately as he tried to fit the whole chicken in his mouth.
All the girls who wanted to bed him tried to get close to his wolf. Jon assumed they were entranced by the power of a direwolf and the one who rode it. Ghost certainly had favourites, Val and Ygritte were among them.
“What are you two nattering about?” Ygritte asked as she picked up a sausage with her hand and started eating it, chewing loudly. She had told him her mother gave up trying to make her a ‘proper lady’ some time ago.
“How Jon want’s to fuck you on this table.” Val answered her sister, cackling. She always loved to stir the pot.
“That’s not what we were talking about.” Jon said, as Ygritte looked him up and down, smirking seductively.
“Well… If the notion took your fancy… I wouldn’t say no…” she winked at him.
“Ygritte, there’s hundreds of people here.”
“I know.” She leaned forward, biting her lip. “Exciting thought, isn’t it?”
“Gods! Do you two ever stop?” Robb exclaimed on the other side of the table. In the heat of the moment, Jon had forgotten other people were sitting around them.
“We’re no worse than you and Rhae.” He shot back. It was true, Robb and Rhaenys were often all over each other. Even now, she was half sitting on him as they ate their food. She had decided to move even closer to Robb after the king had called her to the high table.
“That doesn’t make it right.” Alysanne told him as she ripped a chunk of bread in two and dipped some in her soup.
“You don’t have a leg to stand on either!” Jon laughed. Alysanne was could be just as lusty as her brothers, as a number of men and women she shared her bed with would attest.
They laughed and ate some more as the night got later. Greywind tried to leap onto the table to get at some food. Jon and Rhaenys started playing catch with a fireball, to the “oooh’s” and “ahhh’s” of the guests. Alysanne retired early, with three men, including her betrothed, on her arm.
Eventually, the crown prince walked up to them from the other end of the table. Jon could tell he was an insufferable prick just by looking at him. Behind the prince stood a taller man with a golden Kraken sewed onto his doublet, signifying him as a Greyjoy.
“You must be the Targaryen princess i’ve heard so much about. I am Prince Joffrey.” He introduced himself with a self-satisfied smirk on his lips, completely ignoring the rest of them.
Rhaenys tensed, then bowed her head slightly. “It is an honour to meet you… Prince Joffrey.” She said. Jon could tell she wanted to tell him to bugger off. But he was the son of the king. The last thing they needed was for the king to be angered by her.
“It is good to meet you, cousin.” Val said, clearly trying to draw attention away from the uncomfortable Rhaenys. “I hope you’re enjoying your time in the North.” The prince regarded her as if she had just asked him if he liked the taste of his own shit.
“It’s certainly cold and grey.” Joffrey said. “Casterly Rock is far superior.”
Jon toyed with the notion of lighting Joffrey’s shoes on fire, but thought better of it. They would probably blame Rhaenys and his father certainly wouldn’t be amused by it. When Jon had discovered his fire-bending ability, his father had sat him down in front of the Weirwood and made him swear a vow to never use his gift for tricks that could hurt someone. It was a vow Jon had lived by ever since. Fire was alive and demanded to be treated with a measure of respect, else it would consume without end.
“I wish to congratulate you on your betrothal to the Stark heir.” Joffrey walked closer to Rhaenys where she sat, placing a hand on her shoulder and leaning down. “And if you should ever feel dissatisfied with your husband, you are free to visit me.” He whispered to her.
Jon only heard him because of his enhanced hearing due to being a skin-changer. He near leaped over the table to throttle the prince for his words. Robb was clearly angry too, but kept better control over it.
“We thank you for your… kind words...” He said sternly as he got to his feet. Robb towered over both Joffrey and his Greyjoy lickspittle. “But now I suggest you return to your seat. I would hate for you to miss the next course...”
“Given the food so far, I wouldn’t be missing much.” Joffrey said as he turned and walked away, his Greyjoy following.
“Are you alright?” Robb asked Rhaenys with concern.
“I’m fine.” She answered.
“I’m going to fuck his sister.” Jon said resolutely.
“Jon, no.” Robb warned.
“Jon, yes!” Ygritte’s eyes lit up, dropping her sausage back onto her plate.
“I agree with Robb.” Val added. “You can’t just fuck the Princess because the Prince is a shit.”
“Jon, father wants us to behave. Deflowering the King’s daughter is not behaving.” His brother was still standing, looking down on him with steel grey eyes.
“You should fuck her.” Ygritte urged him, with a glint in her eye.
“You’re not helping. Ygritte.” Robb sighed as he sat down in his chair next to Rhaenys.
“Fuck her in Joffrey’s bed. Teach that bastard a lesson.” She continued.
“Ygritte!”
“You heard what he said to Rhaenys.”
“What did he say?” Val asked, as she didn’t have enhancements of being a skin-changer or a member of the Ice Guard, she hadn’t heard Joffrey.
“He wanted me to visit him for ‘satisfaction’.” Rhaenys said to her.
“Fuck her up the arse and leave her in Joffrey’s bed.” Val turned to Jon.
“Val!” Robb scolded her, clearly disappointed she’d switched sides.
“Yes!” Ygritte cackled.
“Fucking the Princess won’t solve anything.” Robb tried to explain.
“It’ll certainly be satisfying.” Val answered him.
“No.” Robb affirmed. “And that’s the end of it.”
The feast went on. They drank and sung and made merry, but Jon still had Myrcella in the back of his mind. The five of them left the feasting hall, Rhaenys, Val and Ygritte were getting needy for the kind of meal only Jon and Robb could give them.
“I’ll join you later.” Jon said after they left the hall and walked partially down an empty hallway, Ghost and Greywind following. Robb turned back to look at him in surprise.
“You feeling alright?” He asked.
“Yes, just need a walk is all.” Jon lied. “Besides, I fucked Rhaenys alone earlier. You should get Val and Ygritte to yourself for a night.” He chuckled. It wouldn’t be the first time Robb had fucked the three of them together. Jon had certainly done it his fair share of times.
“In that case. Goodnight, Jon.” Rhaenys said as she drew Jon in for a kiss. He pulled her curvy body against his as they leaned into their embrace, his hands took hold of her fleshy arse. Val also bid him goodnight, then replaced Rhaenys, her kiss, much more demanding. Finally came Ygritte, who pushed him against the wall and kissed him longer than the other two combined.
“Good hunting.” She whispered with a wink. A wide smile plastered on her face.
She knows what i’m going to do.
Jon never could keep a secret from Ygritte. Not even when Dacey had fucked him for the first time. Ygritte had raged and sworn bloody vengeance on the Mormont. Apparently, they had a wager on who would be the first to fuck him. Thankfully, Ygritte and Dacey’s relationship had improved dramatically when he started fucking them together.
After they had bid their goodnights, Robb lead the women away, one arm around Rhaenys his other hand resting on Ygritte’s arse, with Greywind padding behind them.
Jon decided to actually go on a walk before he went back into the hall. Ghost was his white shadow as they walked through Winterfell in the moonlight. The cold night air was a welcome relief from the near oppressive heat of the feasting hall. Jon’s walk came to a halt when he came across to figures standing in a doorway, talking. He stayed to the shadows and listened to what they were saying.
“Alright, you make a fair point. She is nice to look at.” The taller one said.
“But I bet she’s a dead fish in bed.” The other laughed. Jon recognised the voices he was hearing. They were Joffrey’s and Theon Greyjoy’s. He edged closer to better hear what they were saying.
“Ok… so how about Stark’s whores?” Theon asked.
“Hmmm.” Joffrey put his hand on his chin. “I think i’d Wed the Dayne, Bed the Tully and Behead the Martell.” The prince laughed.
Jon felt his blood boiling. They were talking about his mothers! Quite a loud part of his mind told him to walk up to them and smash their skulls together until there was nothing left.
“Good choices.” Greyjoy laughed. “I’d certainly Wed or Bed the Tully and the Dayne. The Dayne is prettier, but have you seen the Tully’s tits? Besides, it’s only natural. Riverlander women have been the saltwives of the Ironborn for hundreds of years. Perhaps she’ll feel the same way.”
“Mayhaps our esteemed Hand would happily announce his wife had a new babe after you bedded her.” Joffrey laughed. Ghost was baring his teeth in a soundless snarl, sensing Jon’s feelings. His hand went to Ghost’s back, taking hold of his white fur. The last thing he needed was having to explain how the Prince and his friend died. Jon decided not to kill the two walking shits and instead look for Joffrey’s sister.
Jon found her sooner than expected when he walked into her as she was coming out of the fest hall. “Forgive me, Princess. I did not see you.” He smiled down at her. She was a very beautiful woman, with bright green eyes and long blonde hair in a complicated braid going down her back. She was in a finely made dress of red and gold silk, that bared her shoulders and clung to her slim, yet very curvy body.
“No need to apologise, Prince Stark.” Myrcella blushed up to him.
“My father is Prince Stark. You can call me Jon.” He began to turn on the charm. Whether it would be successful or not was up to the gods.
“Then you may call me Myrcella.” She giggled in response. Then she noticed Ghost and tensed up. “Is that your wolf?” She asked in a tight voice.
“There’s no need to fear.” Jon assured her. “Ghost is quite gentle. Aren’t you boy?” He held his hand out to scratch Ghost behind his ear. The direwolf leaned into Jon’s hand, happily. Myrcella was still staring at the massive wolf. “You can touch him if you want.”
“Mother wouldn’t want me to…” she said, her voice laced with apprehension. Then she began to tentatively hold her hand out to Ghost.
“Here, let me.” Jon said, taking her hand in his and putting it on Ghost’s snow white fur. Myrcella made a small squeaking sound when her hand made contact.
“It’s… so soft…” she cooed as she ruffled Ghost’s fur.
“Is there a reason you are leaving the feast Myrcella?” Jon asked, as they both petted his direwolf, who seemed to be greatly enjoying the attention.
“I needed fresh air… I also wanted to see Winterfell. Mother wouldn’t let us look around earlier...” she seemed sad that she had been denied a tour.
“I could show you the castle.” Jon offered. “None know Winterfell as well as me.”
“At night?”
“There are few times Winterfell looks better than when it’s bathed in moonglow on a brisk night.”Myrcella seemed to light up at the prospect of a moonlight walk through the castle.
“I’ll gladly accept your offer, Jon.”
“Do you not need one of your white knights to escort you?”
“Why would I?” She giggled as she took his arm. “I have a handsome prince as my protector.” They laughed together as they set off through Winterfell, with Ghost trotting along beside them.
Jon took Myrcella all over Winterfell. From the library tower all the way to the glass gardens. She was quite impressed with them. Acres of land under a glass building. Hot water pumped into the soil to keep it warm in the winter.
All castles and cities in the North had similar structures. They were a necessity, especially during the winter. But Winterfell’s were by far the largest. A reasonable size, given Winterfell was one of the largest castles in Westeros. A fact that certainly awed Myrcella.
“It’s just all so big.” She marvelled as they walked across the yard to the gate of the godswood. “And certainly cold.” She huddled closer to Jon.
She wasn’t wearing the most practical dress for the North. With bare shoulders and slits going along her sleeves, a lot of skin was shown. It took a lot of Jon’s willpower not to openly leer at her nipples, that had clearly hardened to points under her silk dress.
“I could fetch you a cloak?” Jon offered.
“No, no. Your warm embrace is enough for me.” She giggled in response. “Winterfell is so much bigger than the Red Keep.”
“Well, you know the old saying: Everything’s bigger in the North.”
“I don’t doubt it.” Myrcella smirked up at him.
“Come, I can show you something warm, if that is what you wish.” Jon said, leading her into the godswood. Eventually they got to a collection of pools fuelled by hot water springs. The steam from the hot water was rising into the crisp air, making the area around the pools much warmer.
“Wow.” Myrcella said as she looked at the dark water.
“The hot pools of the godswood are said to have rejuvenating and healing properties, generations of Starks have bathed in them.” Jon told her, walking to the edge and putting his hand in the water. He looked to Myrcella. “Would you like to try it?”
“Mother would say I shouldn’t…”
“But what do you say? I will cover my eyes until we are shrouded in the water.”
Myrcella paused for a moment seemingly debating in her head what to do. “I expect you to keep your word, Stark.” She smirked at him as she went behind a tree and started undoing the binds of her dress.
Jon quickly got out of his clothes and dove into the blissfully warm waters of the pool. All tension left his body as the comforting heat embraced him.
“Cover your eyes now. I will tell you when to stop.” Myrcella called out from behind the tree.
Jon followed her request and covered his eyes. However, he did not promise to cover Ghost’s eyes and through his direwolf, Jon was able to see Myrcella. The beautiful blonde woman peered out from behind the tree, trying and failing to cover herself with her hands. Once she saw his eyes were covered, she let her hands fall and bared herself to his warged gaze.
She was as generously endowed as her mother, with large breasts and wide hips. Other than her breasts and hips, she was a very slim girl, with a flat stomach and long legs. Her long blonde hair was undone and fell down her back in a golden cascade.
Jon saw she stood at the edge of the pool, a hand on her hip, biting her lip, her green eyes sparkling as she looked over him in the water. Jon could hear her heartbeat rising, her skin was beginning to flush in the cold.
She just wanted a chance to look at me naked. Jon realised. She gracefully descended into the water, visibly relaxing as she was submerged. She sat a respectful distance away from him in the water.
“You may uncover your eyes now.” She said.
Jon did so and saw Myrcella smiling at him in the water, her breasts only just below the surface. Her long hair was getting wet in the steam and the water. She was blushing slightly, no doubt because this was probably the first time she was naked with a man.
“Isn’t it glorious.” Jon asked, moving around the pool, causing the waters to ripple around them. “We swim here all the time.”
“It certainly feels lovely.” Myrcella answered as she swam around as well. Moving carefully, so she did not expose herself. “Now I wish mother had let me be betrothed to you.” She caught herself just after she finished talking and seemingly felt embarrassed. The news certainly surprised Jon.
I imagine she wasn’t supposed to tell me that.
“We were to be betrothed?”
Myrcella looked off to the side, sheepishly. “Father wanted the match. ‘You can’t do better than a Stark’ He said. Mother was against it.”
“Is there a particular reason?”
“…She said she didn’t want me to become one wife of many. To become a… whore.”
“If you were my wife, you would never be a whore. You can ask Val and Ygritte yourself.”
“I certainly want to meet them. They are my cousins after all.”
“Ygritte would certainly love you.” Love to dominate a nice southern girl like you. Is what he meant, but he didn’t tell Myrcella that bit. “I would be a lucky man indeed if you were my wife.” Jon said, brushing a stray strand on blonde hair out of Myrcella’s face.
She blushed and looked away. “I would be the lucky one.”
They both stayed like that for a time, floating and swimming in the warm waters. Eventually, Jon decided to play a game with her. He silently dropped beneath the surface of the water. He could see her naked body clearly as she floated. Her muffled voice called out, up above the surface as she looked around for him. He swam around her under the surface, marvelling at how her voluptuous body moved.
Eventually, he sprung above the water, surprising Myrcella greatly. She let out a shriek as Jon splashed her and laughed.
“That’s not funny Jon!” She laughed as she splashed him in return. They played in the water until Jon took her in his arms. They laughed and giggled together as Jon held her, until a shocked expression dawned on Myrcella’s face. “I… Your… I can feel your…” she murmured, blushing terribly.
Their naked bodies were pressed together, Jon could feel her large breasts against his chest and his cock was pressing against her hip. Wordlessly, they looked into each other’s eyes, grey on green, bathed in the light of the moon.
They both leaned in and their tongues met in an intimate dance. They held each other as they kissed in the warm waters of Winterfell’s godswood. Their bodies pressed together, skin to skin.
She tastes of honey.
Jon’s hands roamed her body, tracing invisible lines along her flawless skin. One hand snaked down her hip to the fleshy globes of her arsecheeks. The other took a handful of her large, perky breast. Jon felt Myrcella’s arms feeling her way around his body too, spending quite a bit of time on his well-muscled arms.
Eventually they pulled apart, a single string of saliva connecting their lips. Jon looked deep into her eyes, and she looked deep into his. They manoeuvred themselves to the edge of the pool, getting onto the grassy bank together. They both lay naked for a time, staring at each other, Myrcella’s cheeks were flushed with arousal.
“You’re so beautiful...” Jon reassured her, placing a hand on her flat belly.
“So are you.” She replied, sheepishly. Then she giggled.
Her giggles turned to moans as Jon began to kiss his way around her body. Laying small kisses down her neck, Jon took her full breasts in his hands, fondling them. The ripe flesh overflowed from his hands as he gently grasped them. Myrcella began to gasp as Jon’s fingers began to tweak her nipples, bringing them to hardened points again.
Soon his fingers were replaced with his tongue, it swirled around her nipples, one after the other. Jon alternated having one hand on a breast, then his mouth on the other. The princess really began to moan when Jon wrapped his lips her nipples. Her head fell back as she cupped his head, keeping it at her breasts, her thighs began to rub together, clearly trying to get some satisfaction.
Eventually Jon rose from Myrcella’s breasts, his cock throbbing at the sight of the Baratheon princess. Jon sat up on his knees, his cock jutting out into the air like a mast from a ship’s deck.
“Gods…” Myrcella bit her lip, blushing even harder when she saw it. “It’s so…” She didn’t even need prompting to wrap her fingers around his shaft and rub it back and forth, slowly.
She only gripped it with two of her fingers and her thumb, the couldn’t reach the whole way around his cock. That always seemed to give Jon a sense of satisfaction.
“How does it feel?” He asked, concerned about how Myrcella was finding his cock.
“Me?” She laughed, nervously. “What about you? Am I doing it right?”
“It feels good.” He answered, smiling down at her.
Myrcella bit her lip “I’ve never touched one before…”
That much is obvious.
“Grip it with your entire hand.” He urged her, gently. She did so, taking his cock in her fist. Her hands still weren’t big enough to go the full way around his cock. “That’s better.” He smiled. Jon knelt there for a time as Myrcella rubbed his cock, getting more eager with each pump of her hand.
Eventually, Jon changed their positions and placed himself looking down on Myrcella’s cunt. It was very pretty and smooth, with a small patch of golden curls on top of it. Jon was more used to bald cunts, as was the style in Dorne, which had been spread to the North.
Jon gently rubbed his fingers along Myrcella’s cunt lips. Dragging them back and forth, earning shivers and moans from the naked woman.
“Oh… Jon…” She cooed. Her eyes widened as Jon inserted one of his fingers into her cunt. She was tight as hell and getting wet. When he felt she was comfortable with the invading digit, he began to move it inside her. “Gods! Jon… Jon…” she chanted.
“Enjoy it, Myrcella.” He urged her as he pushed deeper. Her head fell back onto the grass again as Jon placed his lips on the hood of her cunt and gave her his ‘Lord’s Kiss’. It was said among the women that he had the most talented tongue in the North. He put it to work on the princess.
“Oh… Gods!” She she moaned. Her breathing became heavy, her large breasts rising and falling on her chest.
“You enjoying yourself?” Jon lifted his mouth from her cunt with a smile on his face.
“Huh? What?” She panted.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” Jon repeated.
“My head is spinning.” Myrcella moaned, Jon could tell she was getting close to climax. He went back to work on her, his fingers curling in her cunt as his tongue swirled around her nub. Her thighs closed around his head as she bucked her hips. As loud scream erupted from the princess as Jon’s mouth and chin were bathed in her climax.
Never fails. Jon licked his lips, tasting Myrcella on them.
Jon was on his knees between Myrcella’s legs. She was still shaking from her climax, but she locked eyes with him. His aching cock was pointing directly at her cunt, begging to be let loose.
“Are you ready?” He asked, teasing her wet entrance with his cock-head.
“Yes…” Myrcella answered, blushing.
Ever so slowly, Jon eased his cock into her entrance. Inch after inch of his cock was embraced by her tight, wet heat.
“Gods… You’re…” she panted.
“I’m inside you.”
“Yes!”
“Does it hurt?” Jon asked. Even women who had other lovers had trouble taking him the first time, let alone maidens.
“Not anywhere near as much as I thought it would.”
“Well then.” Jon said as he leaned down on top of her, his lips inches from hers. “I think it’s time I took you properly.” He smiled as he kissed her.
Jon began to ease his hips in and out of her cunt. Myrcella drew her arms around him, holding him close as he fucked her. With every thrust, his cock went an inch deeper inside Myrcella. She moaned and crooned as she took his cock. Her hands were travelling up and down his back as their tongues danced together. Her cunt was throbbing around him, massaging his length as he speared into her, over and over again.
Myrcella wrapped her legs around him as well, locking her feet behind his legs, trying to keep him inside her. Jon decided to have a little fun and gave her an extra deep thrust, making her eyes roll back into her head as she squealed into his mouth. When they had finished kissing, Jon pushed himself up, so her could look down on Myrcella as he fucked her. And what a sight it was.
She was beautiful, a halo of golden curls fanned out around her head, her large breasts bouncing up and down in time with his thrusts. Myrcella had closed her eyes and started to bite her hip, he could tell she was close to finishing again.
Sure as daylight, a few minutes of thrusting later, Myrcella came undone around him. She gripped him tightly in her arms, her cunt was like a vice around him, trying to milk him of his seed.
If Jon were a lesser man, feeling a beautiful princess of the realm climaxing around him would be his end. But Jon was not a lesser man. So he continued to plough Myrcella through her climax. She shivered and quivered around him, uttering sounds that might have been words if she could think straight. After drawing out her climax as long as possible, Jon stilled, allowing Myrcella to catch her bearings. Her breasts wobbled deliciously as she trembled.
When Myrcella got her breath back, Jon started to move her by her hips onto her hands and knees. She obliged his positioning her body.
“Do you want me like this?” She asked, sticking her peachy behind up as she rested on her hands and knees.
“Spread your legs a little and go lower down.” Jon instructed her. She followed his commands, spreading her legs and arching her back, making her already large arse appear even bigger. “Yes. That’s perfect.”
Jon grabbed her arse with his hands, moulding the ample flesh to his hands. Her stroked along her cheeks, pulling them apart, revealing her cunt and puckered arsehole. They wobbled pleasantly under his machinations.
“You’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever met. Your body is divine.” Jon said as his gaze travelled up her back to her face looking over her shoulder at him.
“Is it?” She giggled, blushing.
Jon eased himself inside her quivering, sopping wet cunt again. Myrcella’s thighs shook as he pushed his way inside her, deeper than before. After a few strokes, the wet sounds of flesh hitting flesh could be heard in the godswood again.
Jon sped up his thrusts as Myrcella dropped her head down, moaning from the back of her throat. Her took her like a direwolf took his bitch. Her body was his, to do with as he pleased. Myrcella’s melodic voice cried out as Jon fucked her.
“Fuck…” Jon panted as Myrcella’s arms and legs gave out under her. He was fucking her prone against the ground. She grunted as his cock went deeper into her cunt, kissing the entrance to her womb.
“You feel even deeper now.” She moaned, her breath was getting short again.
“Do you like it?”
“Yes!” She cried out. “Yes! I love it!!” With that, she climaxed around him again. For the third time that night.
“Would you like to be on top?” Jon asked, once she had recovered.
“Um… Yes.” She murmured, tiredly. Jon rolled off her onto the grass, she threw her leg over his waist and mounted his hips. “This is new.”
“It’ll come naturally to you.” He assured her. As she slid down his length, made an easy task with all the lubrication she’d coated him with. She began to move her hips on top of him.
“It’s like riding a horse.” He told her.
“What kind of horses have you been riding?” Myrcella laughed in response.
“I usually ride a direwolf.”
“Now, so do I.” They both laughed, wholeheartedly together. Jon’s eyes were drawn to they way her large tits bounced.
Myrcella leant forwards on-top of Jon and pulled him into a deep embrace as they fucked on the godswood ground. Jon began to thrust up into her cunt, making her moan. It didn’t take long before they were both climaxing together, Jon filling her royal womb with copious amounts of his seed.
They lay together on the grass for a time, Jon’s seed spilling out of Myrcella’s well-used cunt.
“How do you feel?” Jon turned to ask her.
“My head is still rushing…” she panted, laughing.
“Did you enjoy losing your maidenhood?” Jon asked with a grin. He always loved to take a woman’s maidenhood and bring them unimaginable pleasure as he did it.
“It was amazing...” She smiled it him.
“Did you know that in the old days, a marriage ceremony of the First Men involved a man fucking his wife in a godswood.” He informed her. “Princess Rhaenys Targaryen was the last woman in the North who was married that way, when she wed Torrhen Stark.”
“Are you saying we’re married now?” Myrcella asked, smiling mischievously at him.
Jon leaned over to kiss her once again.
—————————
Ned
The hour was late, the feast had dragged on into the night before Ned and his wives had retired to Elia and their bed. They had found her wrapped up in blankets next to the fire, reading a book, with Ned’s shadowcat: Shade curled up at her feat, her deep purr rumbling like thunder.
The direwolves had happily bounded over to the shadowcat, who leaped up and dashed to her perch in the rafters, where she could survey the entire room without issue. Shade wasn’t the most sociable of creatures, rarely did she want to deal with others, especially three happy direwolves. On her perch, she had crossed her paws and stared down on them all disapprovingly with her glowing green eyes as her long tail hung down.
Ned and his wives had seen Elia had missed them that evening and set about remedying the situation.
“FUCK ME! I’M YOUR FUCKING WHORE!!!” Cat screamed as Ned rammed into her.
Ned was surprised their bed has lasted all these years. Even as it creaked and shifted under the force of his thrusts. They were nearing the end of a multiple hour session of love-making. Ned had already spent himself inside all of his women multiple times, but now he was drawing towards his end.
Cat was on her back as he fucked her cunt. Ash was on one side of her, Elia on the other. Both were worshipping Cat’s massive breasts as they bounced on her chest, with Ned working his fingers into their cunts, bringing them closer to their final ends. Cat was in her seventh heaven, her eyes had glazed over as she climaxed again and again. Ned could feel the large wet patch on their bed.
Ramona’s certainly going to enjoy cleaning that up.
“I’m close!” Cat gasped, as a hard thrust sent shivers through her body. Ned could feel his own climax approaching. He watched as Ash pulled her lips from Cat’s breast and wrap her hand around Cat’s throat.
“Did I give you permission, whore?” She asked, accusingly. She pinched Cat’s nipple, causing her to bite her lip as she let out a long whine. “Did I?!?”
“N-N-No!” Cat stammered. “Please! Can I finish?” She pleaded, gasping as Ash gripped her neck tighter. “I’ve…been…good! Ah!” The clapping of flesh got louder as Ned fucked her at a blinding pace, his balls loudly slapping her arse-cheeks.
“I don’t think so!” Ash said to her, moaning as he pleasured her. “Did you see the dress you were wearing? Your massive tits were nearly falling out the whole evening! The king was practically drooling over you!”
It was true. As the night wore on, Robert’s eye had certainly wandered down Cat’s cleavage more than once, just as it had Ash’s. Ned had sent Marei Robert’s way to distract him. He guessed she was successful as he saw Robert leaving with her soon after.
“But I… Ah! I wanted to look nice for you!” Cat fluttered as Ned fully encased his throbbing cock deep inside her silky tunnel. Elia had given up suckling on Cat’s nipple. Her head was now resting on Cat’s breast as she moaned, pumping her hips onto Ned’s fingers.
“Yes, you wanted to entice us with your whorish body no doubt!” Ash said, having to stifle a moan as Ned worked his fingers deep in her cunt. “Do you have any idea how much Ned and I wanted to rip your dress off and fuck you on that table?”
Cat did not answer, she could not. Her face was going red from the lack of air and from Ned’s fucking. He felt her quivering channel clench around him and knew she was done. Ash whispered something in Cat’s ear and she threw her head back in a mighty scream they could probably hear at the wall. Shockwaves tore their way through Cat’s body as she came to a heart-stopping climax around Ned.
Feeling her bathe his cock in her love pushed Ned over the edge as he let go and sent a torrent of his seed deep into Cat’s fertile womb for the billionth time. Ash and Elia also being brought to a soaring peak by his fingers as they moaned, kissing as their heads rested on Cat’s breasts. All four lovers lay panting together for what felt like an age.
Ned rolled off his lovers and climbed from their bed, as he had countless times before. He walked naked over to the other side of the room he threw open the windows of the room, one-by-one, then the door to their balcony, letting the cold night air into the room.
He gazed into the blackness of the starless night, with only a crescent moon hanging in the sky. His eyes fell from the moon down to Winterfell, to his home. He thought of the people who loved there: his family.
“I will refuse him.” Ned said as he turned back to the bed. Cat was the first to look up at him.
“You shouldn’t.” She said, worry falling on her face.
“My duties are here in the North. With you three. I have no wish to be Robert’s Hand.”
“Good.” Ash said. “You can stay here with us. Robert and his Lannister bitch can fuck off south.”
“Ned, he will not understand that. You told me Robert always got his way when you were younger. Do you think being a king has made him less egocentric? Don’t you see the potential harm in offending a king?” Some of Cat’s words certainly rang true, but Ned could not believe Robert would go that far.
“Robert would never harm me or any of mine.” He tried to assure her. “We’re close as brothers. If I refuse him, he will roar and rage and bluster. Then in a week, we will laugh about it together. I know the man!” It had always been the way of their disagreements: Robert’s temper would get the better of him and he would rage, then eventually he would forget and they would carry on like before.
“You knew the man.” His Tully wife answered him. “The king is a stranger to you.”
“I agree with Cat.” Elia said quietly. They all turned to her in surprise.
“You do?” Cat asked her.
“I… I don’t want you to go south, Ned. But even in the past… your friend was capable of…” she did not finish her sentence. She didn’t need to. Both Ash and Cat comforted her on the bed. Even after all these years, the wounds of her dead son were still painful a lot of it due to the lack of justice. “…And from what you say, it is clear he is even lesser now.” She added.
A loud and unexpected knock on the door broke the silence that has settled in the room. Ned frowned. “What is it?”
The voice of Desmond, one of the Ice Guard stationed at their door came through. “My prince, Druid Luwin, Ser Arthur, Capt’n Harper and the mage Yennefer are without. They’re begging an urgent audience.”
“Did you tell them I had left orders not to be disturbed?”
“Yes, my prince. But they’re bein’ awfully insistent.”
Ned sighed heavily, walking over to wardrobe, to slip on a heavy robe. Ned checked the women had gotten themselves under the covers before he answered. “You can send them in.”
The group of four was shown into the room. Druid Luwin lead them, a small grey man in dark green robes with great floppy sleeves, hiding many pockets within them. After him came a rather tired looking captain Harper, who wore a simple shirt and breeches, it looked like he had been woken up not too long ago.
Then came Arthur, Ned’s good-brother, dressed as always, in pure white. Even after he head left the King’s Guard, he still dressed as one, wearing their armour when needed.
Finally came Yennefer, looking immaculate as ever, still in the same black and white dress she wore during the feast. Luwin only began to speak when everyone was inside and the door was closed.
“My prince, princesses,” he said to them, “pardon for disturbing your rest. I have been left a message.”
“Who left this message? Was there a rider?” Ned asked, slightly irritated.
“There was no rider, my prince. Only a carved wooden box, left on a table in my observatory while I napped. Yennefer woke me when she found it.” Luwin answered him.
“It must have been brought by someone in the king’s party.” Yennefer added. “We’ve had no other visitors from the south.”
“What was in this wooden box.” Ash asked from the bed.
“Inside was a finely made new lens for the observatory.” Luwin answered. “It isn’t dwarven, so a lens of this quality could only come from Myr.”
“A lens?” Ned asked, frowning. “You would not have come to me for that alone.” The time was catching up with Ned and he was beginning to lose his patience. I should have drunk less during the feast.
“Indeed.” Luwin smiled. ”Clearly there was more to this than there seemed.”
“A lens is something to help us see.” Cat said from beneath the bed covers.
“Exactly.”
“So, what is it they want us to see more clearly?”
“I thought the same thing. I sensed some kind of magic in the box. So I asked Yennefer to check for illusions in it.” Luwin turned to Yennefer, who began to speak.
“We found the true message concealed under a strong illusion at the bottom of the box.” She said, showing a role of parchment. “It would not have been found if we weren’t looking for it.”
“Let me have it then.” Ned said, holding out his hand.
“The message is for princess Catelyn, my prince.” Yennefer informed him. She handed it to him it was sealed with a blob of blue wax. Ned carried the letter over to the bed and gave it to Cat. She broke the seal and read the letter carefully. Ned could see Ash and Elia were resisting the urge to read it over her shoulder.
“It’s from Lysa… She took no chances. When we were girls together, we had a private language, she and I…”
Suddenly Cat leaped up from the bed, still undeniably naked and on wobbly legs. The four who had entered the room looked away. Ned heard Harper mutter “Just once… Just once…” under his breath as he pinched his nose.
“Perhaps we should leave.” Luwin offered as Cat padded nakedly over to the fire.
“No. We will need your counsel.” She seemed quite annoyed. “I’ll have none of your false modesty.” She told them sternly, hand on her hip. She stood like she was scolding a group of ill behaved children. Her lips were swollen, her hair was tousled, her skin was glistening with sweat, his seed was dripping down her thighs. It could not be clearer that she had just had vigorous sex. Yet none in the room would dare countermand her. It surprised Ned how someone so submissive in bed could be so forceful out of it.
“Stop being so childish. You helped me birth all of my children.” She pointed at Luwin. “How many times have you walked in on Ned and us?” She asked Harper.
“Too many.” Harper answered under his breath.
“Yennefer, I was there when you conceived your daughter with Ned. You Arthur…” she paused, seemingly unable to think of a situation when he had. “Well… I’ve been fucking your sister for over a decade.” She finally said. Eventually, Ned blinked out of his frozen awe and draped a robe around his wife’s shoulders as she ripped up the letter and threw it into the fire.
“What was in the message?” He asked Cat as she stood up again, firmly wrapping the robe around herself.
“A warning.” She answered him. “Lysa says Jon Arryn was murdered.”
Ned tensed up. “By whom?”
“The Lannisters… The queen.”
“That bitch.” Ash said, still sitting on the bed, her arm around Elia.
“Gods…” Ned whispered. “Lysa is sick with grief… She cannot know what she is saying.”
“It is not beyond them.” Elia said.
“She knows.” Cat said with certainty. “She’s impulsive true, but this message was carefully planned and cleverly hidden. She knew it meant death if her letter fell into the wrong hands. To risk so much, she must have had more than mere suspicion.” Ned saw Cat look up to him with her shining blue eyes. “Now we have no choice… You’re not going anywhere.”
“What?” Ned saw that clearly Cat had come to a different conclusion than him.
“You must stay here.” She pleaded. “They killed one Hand, they could kill another.”
“A moment ago, you were saying I had to go south lest I incur Robert’s wrath.” Ned stated. “Now you say I should stay?”
“That was before we found out the last Hand was murdered.” Cat answered.
“I cannot leave Robert to be stabbed in the back by Lannisters.”
“Fuck Robert!” Cat shouted.
“Yes, Cat!” Ash supported her wife. “Leave him to his fate Ned. It’s no concern of ours.”
“I will not abandon him.” Ned affirmed. “That is final.” All Ned’s women looked at him, pleadingly. But he would not be deterred.
“The Hand of the king wields great power.” Luwin said. “Power enough to unmask this conspiracy.”
“Arthur.” Ash said, looking to her brother. “Promise me you’ll protect my husband when you are in the south.”
“I swear it.” Arthur answered her. “You’re my brother, Ned.” He chuckled, “You think i’d let you walk into that pit of vipers alone?”
“I’ll be there too.” Harper added. “An’ all the lads with me.”
A fine fellowship. Ned thought.
Now all we need do is save Robert from himself and the Lannisters… fuck!