Chapter 55
"You understand that when this is over, you will remain here and rule the North?" Asha asked her brother as they secretly met at the Ironborn camp several miles deep into the Wolfswood. She wanted to make sure that he knew his place. If he didn't, her only choice would be to stick her blade in his back. For his sake, she hoped he understood what she was getting at. Theon nodded.
"I do not intend to go back to the Iron Islands. I will stay here and rule while I wait for Father's orders," he assured her. Asha nodded and continued.
"You do know that you will have to kill two boys who were raised as your brothers? Is this something you can do?" she asked. Frankly, she didn't know if he had the balls to do it. She could do it without problems. Theon, however, wasn't raised like her. He was soft.
"I know. I will see it done," he said without wavering. That was good enough for her. If she had to take a guess, she would wager that he would order someone else to do his dirty work. 'Weak-willed coward,' she thought as she looked at him. All she could do was hope that he lived up to her expectations.
"See that you do. We attack at first light," she told him, ending their conversation. As Theon slumped through the ankle-deep snow, a raven that was perched on a leafless tree branch blinked its eyes and flew back toward Winterfell, having heard their plans.
The Dread Lord of Essos
Harry's eyes blinked open as he received a mental ping from one of his woodland spies. 'So the Ironborn attack early tomorrow morning?' Harry thought as the massive, black planks that made up the hull of his ship groaned as they flexed. There was no storm, but the ship still rocked slightly. Every so often, a thunk could be heard as chunks of ice struck the side of the ship. The ice pack was drifting down from the Shivering Sea. During the winter, the seas were always rough this far north. If his ship hadn't been enchanted to counteract the sway, everyone on board would probably have been losing their dinners right about then. Connecting with the drones that were sailing his ship, he discovered that they had just passed north of the Paps and were entering the Bite. From there, they would sail just north of the Three Sisters and then head north to White Harbor.
A soft hand slid down his belly and squeezed his cock. Harry didn't even need to look to know whose hand it was. Sansa had gotten into the habit of holding his lumber while she slumbered, as it were. Harry didn't mind. He found the whole thing amusing. Sansa had always been the most needy and territorial of his girls. It was likely due to the fact that she grew up in the North, and she feared that she was less refined than the other girls. All her life she dreamed of leaving the North for one of the cultured Southern kingdoms, likely because of marriage. Now that her dreams had partly come true, she wasn't about to lose her spot to some sophisticated harlot. As such, she took every opportunity to please and pleasure him. Even as she slept, her hand would gently tug at his cock. 'It's a point in her favor,' Harry amusedly thought. He could hear her gentle breathing, and he could feel her warm breath on his chest. Her shock of red hair covered most of her face, but he could see her closed eyes fluttering as she dreamed.
A female groan was heard from his other side, and Catelyn rolled back over to face him. She slid her arm over his belly and pressed against him. He could feel the soft tips of her nipples brushing against his skin while he cupped her bare ass and gave it a squeeze. In an instant, her soft nipples became hard, and Harry could feel the crinkled tips pressing against his skin. Basking in her body heat, Harry closed his eyes. He still had several hours until he needed to be up.
The Dread Lord of Essos
As distasteful as he found it, Theon knew that it must be done. He was an Ironborn, not a Northerner, and he would prove his father wrong. Covering himself with furs, he left his room and made his way down to the gateway of the castle walls. As soon as he stepped foot outside, his body began to shiver, and he let out a shuddering breath. A cloud of mist escaped his lips, and Theon quickly wondered if he was shaking because of the cold or perhaps because of what he must do. Shivering, his feet crunched through the snow of the courtyard, and he saw the early risers completing their morning rituals. The sun was barely peeking over the horizon, filling the sky with an explosion of orange and reds. The castle's inhabitants who were doing their early morning deeds didn't look nearly as cold as he felt. They didn't shiver even though they were wearing half as many furs as him. 'They are real Northerners … unlike you,' he told himself sourly. But there was nothing wrong with being an Ironborn, he thought as his teeth chattered.
Ironborn were strong and resilient, he told himself. Possibly even more than the people of the North. They were proud people who took what they needed or wanted and didn't take no for an answer. He could see the strength and courage in his sister's eyes. 'She is a true Ironborn,' he sourly thought. He could also see the way she looked at him with contempt. She thought him unworthy. The thought had hit him full in the belly. When he first realized it, it was all he could do to keep himself from beating her black and blue. She may have been raised like a man by their father, but that didn't mean that she was one. He was a man. It was the one thing that he could hold over her.
His plan was to take over Winterfell and put the Starks to the sword. This would make his father proud, he was sure. Hopefully, Balon would welcome him back home with a loving embrace and declare him the heir of the Salt Throne. If not, then Theon would remain in the North, ruling until he was able to amass an army large enough to take the Iron Islands by force. Then his father and sister would be forced to kneel before him. What he would do to them, he hadn't decided yet. He supposed that it depended on what they would have to say for themselves. Either way, he was getting ahead of himself. First, he needed to take Winterfell.
The Dread Lord of Essos
It was still dark when Asha and her band of a thousand Ironborn silently crept out of the woods. On the horizon, only the barest sliver of light was beginning to make itself known. She didn't need to tell them what to do. They already had their orders.
Their booted feet sank deep into the fresh layer of white powder that had fallen hours before. As they moved toward their goal, fresh flakes of snow were still falling, tumbling lazily from up high to cover their tracks. They made sure not to use torches so the castle guards wouldn't see them. Not long after, they reached the edge of Winter Town, which was little more than several long rows of small houses. Near the gate, there was a square where the town's people peddled their wares. This was also the area of the town that housed its few businesses, such as the inn and the alehouse. At the edge of the town, Asha held up her hand, ordering her men to stop. They stopped, and Asha and her few chosen moved forward, catlike and quiet. Taking slow, deliberate steps, they kept to the shadows to not be seen by the handful of guards that protected the town during the night. Asha could see them. Three men were just outside the square. All three had swords on their hips. They were practically huddled together while talking, likely near-frozen from the long, cold night.
Asha looked at her men and nodded her head. "Now!" she whispered. Completely silent, she and her men ran over and began beating the guards over the head with wooden clubs that they had carved the previous night. None of the guardsmen wore helmets. Instead, they headcovers made of rabbit fur to keep warm. These headcovers did nothing to stop the blunt instruments from caving in their skulls. Asha swung her club so hard that when she connected, the impact sounded like a hollow gourd being dropped onto the stone floor. The wet, hollow thunk was quickly followed by the man's surprised yelp. His body hit the snow-covered ground, and before he could even try to get up, Asha dropped the club and removed her sword from her slim waist. She placed the tip against his neck and pushed. The tip slid in partway, and she was forced to press the pommel into her belly and use her body weight to sever through his thick spine. There was a gurgle, then nothing more. The beautiful, white snow underneath his neck turned red as the blood poured from his wound.
Beside her, one of her men seemed to be having too good of a time. He brought his club up again and swung it down with brutal force. His victim was already on the ground, clearly dead. His head was caved in, and his brain looked like mush. As the club struck the pile of destroyed meat and bone, a shower of blood sprayed in every direction, some even hitting her. He lifted the club again but was stopped by her.
"Enough!" she hissed quietly, her eyes burning with rage. They were there for a reason that didn't include sating their psychotic urges. His club dropped to the ground with a muffled thump. "Let's go," she ordered.
They began their short journey back to their group, walking a bit faster than before. Now they just needed to wait for her brother to do his part. Asha threw her arms out to catch her balance. The normally muddy lanes were iced over and solid. It was very easy to slip and fall. Just as they were about to turn the corner, they heard a woman scream. The scream cracked through the silence, and the bitter cold seemed to make it even louder. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" a gruff, male voice joined in. They turned the corner and Asha saw what was causing the commotion.
Several of her men were attempting to pull a woman into what must have been her home. Her furs were scattered, and her dress was torn at the shoulder. Two more of her men were on each side of a tall, bearded man, holding his arms apart. At that moment, another of her men thrust his sword directly into the man's belly. He opened his mouth and let out a scream of agony.
"WHAT'S GOING ON OVER THERE?!" Asha heard from the castle gateway. She closed her eyes and gritted her teeth. Running to her men, she jammed her dagger into the woman's throat. They let her gasping body fall to the ground.
"You stupid, fucking cocksuckers!" she quietly growled, slapping the small group of men across the head. They had just given away their position because they couldn't wait to take what they wanted. 'I only hope Theon isn't as stupid as this lot,' she thought to herself as she slapped another. Their lives were now in his hands.
The Dread Lord of Essos
"WHAT'S GOING ON OVER THERE?!" Theon heard one of the guards at the gate yell out. It was easily heard over the deafening silence. Before that, he had heard a woman scream, followed by a man screaming. Had his sister fucked up the plan already? Theon burst into a run, pulling his sword from his hip. When he reached the gate, two guardsmen were getting ready to open it.
"What happened?" Theon asked, joining them.
"A scream," one of them said.
"Jory an' his men will handle it," the other guardsman said, not wanting to pull the heavy gate open. Opening the gate was especially hard this early in the morning because of the cold.
"JORY?! … JORY?!" the first guard yelled, and they listened close. No one responded.
"Open the gate and go find out what has happened," Theon ordered as he tightly gripped his sword's handle. The two guards looked at each other before reluctantly beginning the process of lifting the heavy, iron gate.
The Dread Lord of Essos
Asha and her men suddenly heard the loud grating of thick, heavy metal rubbing against stone. They stayed quiet until they heard the loud thunk as the gate hit its highest point. Now they just needed to wait for her brother's signal.
The Dread Lord of Essos
Guardsman Alford Snow sighed happily as he emptied his bladder in a hidden corner of the castle's main square. He watched as the white snow beneath him steadily turned more and more yellow with every second. Just as he was shaking out his cock to make sure he didn't dribble down his leg, he heard the loud scream of a woman quickly followed by a man's pained yell. He stuffed his cock into his trousers and attempted to button up as fast as possible. As he was finishing up, he heard the gate beginning to open. This was strange, he thought.
Alford had been born a bastard but had worked his way up until he finally achieved the rank of guard. It was likely the highest rank that a person of his breeding would ever achieve. As such, he held his position in the highest regard. He would never forget the way other bastards would look upon him with jealousy. Working in the castle gave him a sense of pride, and he took his job seriously. Most days, he was stationed on top of the wall during the afternoon shift. The reason for this was currently slung over his broad shoulder. Over his shoulder was a bow made of weirwood. It was a gift from his Lord, Eddard Stark, and was the finest crafted bow that he had ever seen. It was gifted to him when he competed in and won one of his Lord's bowman competitions. Just looking at the bow filled him with pride. After being gifted the bow, his Lord declared that he should be one of the guards stationed atop the wall to defend the castle from raiders or wildlings. That had been his job every day since. Normally, he would still be warm in his room, but his fellow guards wanted to have a bit of a party that night, and they very much hoped that some fresh deer meat might be on the menu. Since he was the best hunter, it was up to him to wake up early and hopefully bring home a buck before his normal afternoon shift.
Because of his job as a guardsman on the castle wall, he very well knew that the castle gates shouldn't be opened for another couple of hours at least. Curious, he kept to the shadows and watched everything unfold. He heard Theon Greyjoy order the gates open. He watched his two friends, Osvald and Molner turn the cranks on each side of the gate. The iron gate climbed higher and higher until it locked into place with a loud thunk. Then, in complete shock, he watched Theon use his sword and swipe Osvald across the neck. His head spun off of his body and hit the ground several feet away. Still in shock, he watched as the Iron Islander ran over to Molner and ran him through the belly before he could even get his sword off of his hip. Snapping out of his shocked state, Alford instantly became enraged. Pulling the bow from his shoulder, he notched an arrow in the string and took aim. Just before letting the arrow fly, Theon whistled loudly. The loud, sudden noise affected his aim. As he let the arrow fly, instead of hitting him directly in the spine, the arrow hooked right, burying itself in Theon's shoulder. Theon yelled out in pain, reaching back to grab the arrow shaft. Before Alford could notch another, Theon ran outside of the gate and out of sight.
"Shit!" Alford cursed. Without a second to waste, he ran toward the bell tower.
The Dread Lord of Essos
"Shit!" Asha cursed as she spotted her brother slowly stumbling down the snowy lane. He was hunched over painfully, and when he got close, she could see an arrow buried in the back of his shoulder. Suddenly, the castle bells began ringing. An alarm had been sounded.
"Asha!" he cried out. "We must hurry!"
Cursing again, she called out, "TO THE CASTLE!"
Her men roared with excitement. They were sick and tired of hiding out in the woods, freezing half to death. It was time for some fun! High above them, a raven cawed loudly.
The Dread Lord of Essos
As soon as Harry got the signal, he appeared inside Bran's room. Almost instantly, his direwolf became aware of an intruder. It growled menacingly but became quiet when Harry stunned him. The boy began to stir, so Harry quickly stunned him. He transfigured both into beads and placed them in his pocket. Next, Harry made his way to Rickon's room where he did the same. With both rooms empty, Harry exited the castle and entered the courtyard. It was at this time when the Ironborn invaders came running through the gate, murderously screaming.
The few guards that had made it into the courtyard were no match for the hundreds of marauders. Every single one was hacked to pieces. High above, hanging out of a window was another guard, continuously firing arrows at the Ironborn. 'He's a damn good shot,' Harry thought as one after another fell to his arrows. Almost every shot was a kill shot. One arrow pierced an invader's eye while another went directly into a man's open mouth. His scream was cut short when the arrowhead erupted from the back of his skull. Harry then remembered that he couldn't just stand there invisibly watching the guard take his shots. He needed to finish up.
Invisibly, he appeared at the back of the attacking horde. Looking behind him, he could see many attackers plundering the village right outside the castle gates. Quickly and easily, he stunned two of them and took them up to the boys' rooms. Making one look like Bran and the other like Rickon, he left them in their beds, stunned to look like they were still asleep.
With that done, Harry took the real boys back to his castle and placed them in an isolated section where no one besides him was allowed to go. He would make sure to keep them safe until he finally returned them to their family. That, however, wouldn't be until after he was done with his plans. All they would know was that they were captured by the Ironborn and held hostage.
The Dread Lord of Essos
Asha and a small group of her men made their way through Winterfell. Originally, taking the castle was supposed to be Theon's job, but he was dumb enough to get himself shot with an arrow, so now it was up to her. The castle had significantly more guards than the outer courtyard, and already a dozen of her men had been killed. As they rounded the corner, she barely had enough time to duck as a sword collided with the stone wall. A hellish clank of metal against stone made her ears ring. She only just threw herself to the side to avoid another attack. Her men were fighting their own guards, so no one was going to be there to have her back. His sword was nearly twice as big as hers, and when he swung it, she found trying to parry his strikes to be a mistake. As the two swords collided, the impact and vibration made it feel like her forearms snapped in half. She cried out with a girlish scream. Oh, how she hated that. Asha hated sounding weak and womanlike. The large guard brought his sword up over his head. Instead of rolling to the side, Asha struck out with her foot and connected with the man's groin. A tortured howl left the man's mouth as the sword dropped from his hand. It bounced off the ground and spun in her direction. The sharp edge clipped her calf, slicing her trousers and cutting her flesh. Asha hissed in pain but fought it off long enough to swing her blade and slice open the guard's belly. He cried out, holding his gut as he fell to the floor. Turning around, she saw one guard driving his sword down through one of her downed men's chest. She struck while he wasn't looking, and the edge of her sword dug halfway through the back of his neck. By then, even more of her men were dead. Only superior numbers were keeping them alive. Thankfully, there didn't seem to be any more guards. Following the directions that Theon had given, she finally found the first boy's bedroom.
The little lad was sleeping away. Wanting to get this over with, she took out her dagger and jammed it into the side of his head. His body jerked only once before he let out a gasping breath. After that, he didn't move. The other Stark boy was only a few doors down. Like his brother, he received a knife in the head while sleeping. With the job done, they went back down and regrouped with her men. They needed to finish taking the rest of the castle.
Chapter 56
Harry stood north of the Thenn and deep within the Lands of Always Winter, where no man dared to go. Even if they were brave enough to venture that far, they would quickly freeze or starve. During the days, the cold would pierce through you, and at night, if you were caught without a shelter or campfire, you couldn't hope to survive longer than an hour. This far north, nothing grew. There was no tree, bush, or blade of grass to be seen. Animals were just as scarce, and only the most foul and unspeakable things could be found there.
He could feel his drones feasting on his magic to keep themselves going. Normally, Harry would have just vanished them and found a more suitable site for them to work, but the mountains in the far north were practically overflowing with resources. Iron, lead, tin, copper, gold, and sapphires the size of golf balls were being torn from the mines. Harry was also harvesting aluminum from the rocks, though getting even a fraction of the amount of the other resources that he was getting was time-consuming. He wasn't mining the metal for him, however. Here on Planetos, aluminum was worth even more than gold, and the Iron Bank was eager to get their hands on the rare metal. As the only current supplier of it, that gave Harry major influence within the bank's walls. Most of it he sold to the bank, but he did keep some for himself … just in case he needed it for anything. As such, Harry was using the extra energy to keep his drones mining twenty-four-seven. Unfortunately, a nearby magical disturbance had been interfering with his operation.
Standing on the edge of a steep cliff, Harry was looking down at an army of undead at least a million strong. It was easy to spot the Others, or the White Walkers as some called them. They stood gaunt and tall with thin, wispy hair the color of fresh snow. Their eyes glowed like blue moonlight and they wore reflective armor that camouflaged them against prying eyes. Their swords were made of thin crystal, and as rumor has it, they could easily piece chain mail as though it were mere silk. Some of the Others were nearly all bone, which shined like polished milkglass and were covered in pale, blue blood. And though the Others were plentiful in number, their Wights made up the majority of the army.
Wights was the name for the resurrected men and animals that the Others used as battle fodder. Necromancy was a magic that the Others were masters in. There were hundreds of thousands of men, women, and children scattered throughout the cold, white plain. Harry wondered how long it took for the Others to gather such an army. The wind was fierce and the heavy snow blew in nearly horizontally as it hid the distant reaches of his eyes. Still, Harry thought he saw something. Using his powers to focus his eyes, his vision cut through the heavy snow and fog. It was then that he saw the true size of the undead army. The million or so that he had seen only moments ago was perhaps only a tenth of the army. Stretched past the horizon was a wave of men and creatures, all of them slowly shuffling south. Far in the distance, Harry spotted what must have been several thousand dead giants, their long, muscled arms dragging roughly hewed, stone clubs behind them, leaving deep ruts in the snow. The flesh of their shaggy, fur-covered bodies was milky white, which matched their silvery-gray fur. Not far from them was an entire herd of mammoths, some fully formed while others looked to be skin and bones. Harry couldn't count the number of creatures they had in their ranks. The majority of the beasts seemed to be wolves, which wasn't surprising. Wolves were the most abundant predators north of the wall after all. Direwolves, bears, and horses were also plentiful among the massive army.
Harry looked on in appreciation, and a smile formed on his handsome face. 'Perhaps this will be a challenge for me,' he thought as one of the closest White Walkers looked up and trained his glowing blow eyes on him. Harry could see them narrow as the corner of his lip pulled up menacingly. Though he couldn't hear it, Harry sensed that the creature was growling at him. Then it opened its mouth wide, and a terrible shriek cut the air and echoed off the mountainside. One after another, all the dead men and beasts turned their gazes to him. They now knew that they were being watched. The White Walker began running in his direction, so Harry pulled out his black blade and ignited its magical fire hotter than he ever had. With a mighty heave, he threw the flaming sword in their direction. The flaming sword spun through the air until it landed twenty rows deep into the first wave of the dead. When it hit the ground, it detonated with a concussive force that sent thousands of Wights and the Others twirling through the air, their bodies torn to pieces. At the point of impact, a tidal wave of fire exploded outward in every direction. Harry once again heard the high-pitched shrieks of the Others, but this time, it was laced with terror as their entire front line was engulfed in fire. A large, icy-blue spider scuttled off to the side, its back on fire. A moment later, it rolled over, and its long, spindly legs curled inward while it twitched. A horrible, chittering sound could be heard all the way up on the cliff as it died, its razor-sharp pincers clacking together.
It was complete chaos as the Wights stumbled around, falling over each other as they desperately tried to squash the flames. Of course, none of them were smart enough to do so. That was the problem with Inferi … They could only follow the most basic commands, and they certainly couldn't think on the fly. The initial White Walker that challenged Harry was rolling around on the snow and was just able to snuff out the flames before burning to death. As it pushed itself to its feet, Harry held out his hand and magically called the sword back. Somewhere in the crowd of burning bodies, the sword launched itself back in his direction, piercing and slicing anything in its path. Arms, legs, torsos, and heads were severed or torn as the black sword shot through the throng. The White Walker was no different. Fiendfyre pierced his side and tore a chunk of flesh and armor from its torso. Its body spun forward ten feet and hit the snow hard. Harry watched for a moment until he saw it twitch. Turning around, Harry walked away. He had sent his message. They were moving south, and eventually, they would reach the Wall. Beyond that wall was the Dread Lord, a formidable foe who wouldn't back off. From their speed and the distance they were from the Wall, Harry calculated that it could still be several years before they became a threat. He would keep a close eye on their progress while preparing for the inevitable battle.
When the White Walker lifted its head from the snow and looked in his direction, it saw only an empty cliff face. All around him, his fellow White Walkers were screeching in anger and confusion.
The Dread Lord of Essos
Needless to say, Catelyn and Sansa were none too pleased when they received word that Winterfell had been sacked. They were furious with the Ironborn and with Theon specifically. They were also very worried about the two young Starks in the castle.
"What are we to do, mother?" Sansa asked worriedly while Harry gently rubbed her back. The ship was docked in White Harbor, and the two Stark women were enjoying the hospitality of House Manderly. Both the Starks, Harry, and Wyman Manderly were in a private room discussing the current problems.
Lord Wyman Manderly was a man nearing sixty namedays with a belly so big that he could no longer ride a horse. Because of his weight and appearance, he was sometimes ridiculed and mocked by his own people, thinking him oaflike and foolish. Wyman Manderly was anything but. In fact, he was quite the opposite … shrewd, cunning, and intelligent. He was also fiercely loyal to the Starks which was exactly why Catelyn had asked him to be involved in the matter at hand.
"I'll tell you what we do, My Lady, we march over there and …" Wyman declared in his booming voice but was cut off by the tapping on glass. A loud caw made Sansa jump. Harry walked over to the window and opened it up. A raven flew in with a note for him. He didn't need to read it since he had gotten the scoop straight from one of his drones. He had had the raven sent from his ship. It was all just for show. He opened the letter and read it, pretending to scowl in anger.
"What is it, Harold?" Catelyn asked, moving next to him.
"I'm afraid taking back Winterfell has just gotten harder. From the information sent to me, the Boltons have taken the opportunity to march on Winterfell. They know that only a small force of Ironborn hold the castle, and Roose is eager to control it," Harry told them.
"What madness is this?!" Wyman boomed. "I know that Roose isn't exactly a man to be trusted, but would he really risk his family by betraying the Starks?"
"With Eddard and Robb gone and Jon Snow at the wall, he surely sees it as easy pickings. I doubt he knows that Catelyn and Sansa have returned and are speaking with you, Lord Manderly. From his perspective, it should be an easy win. The good news is that Dreadfort is almost equal distance to Winterfell as White Harbor is. If we are quick, we can catch Bolton before he even gets there," Harry said as Sansa joined his other side. He could feel her warm fingers tickling his arm.
"There's a problem with that," Manderly sighed. "To pull together an army of any significant size, it will take time, and from what you tell us, time is a luxury we don't have. You also must remember that it is winter. It could take weeks just to gather enough men to make any kind of a difference."
"That is true. Winter will also hamper Bolton's efforts. The trek from Dreadfort to Winterfell will be especially long and brutal for his men, and while they must walk, we have the White Knife to aid us. We can take the river up until we are east of Winterfell. From there, we can set up an ambush and take Bolton's men by surprise. Gather your men as quickly as possible. I'll provide all weapons, food, and other provisions. I'll have it here within a week."
Catelyn and Sansa perked up, and Sansa squeezed his arm just a little tighter. He could feel her warm breasts mashed against his arm. The sexy redhead really knew how to get his motor running. As a reward for his gracious selflessness, he was planning another mother-daughter threesome for that night. He very much doubted that either would deny him his fun that night.
"That is very generous … Your Grace …" Manderly seemed unsure of what to call him. "But even so, it will still take weeks."
That will not be a problem, Lord Manderly. I think I have a way of slowing him down," Harry smiled.
Just then, a mighty roar made the walls and floors tremble. Catelyn yelped in fright while Sansa hugged his arm tightly. Wyman nearly lost his balance and almost tumbled to the ground. They all went to the window and looked out just in time to see Daemon, Harry's massive, black dragon flying by as he circled the castle. Down below, the townspeople screamed and scurried away in a panic as the dragon roared. All Harry could do was chuckle.
The Dread Lord of Essos
While all of that was happening, another copy of Harry was visiting his favorite princesses in Meereen. It was late at night, and the weather was quite chilly for that part of the world. Normally Meereen was very hot all year long, but with winter falling, even the hottest cities would eventually become cold. Dany and Myrcella's room was the highest room in the Great Pyramid, and thus, was even colder than the buildings at ground level. That was okay, Dany thought as Harry warmed her body.
Mycella was beside them, breathing slowly as she slept while Harry and Dany talked things over. "So how are you liking the city?" Harry quietly asked as his fingers gently trailed down her naked front. Dany shrugged her shoulders.
His finger caressed the smooth skin between her perky breasts, and he heard Dany gasp as her back slightly arched. Her breasts were pushed higher into the air, and Harry eyed her perfect, pink nipples. The tips were hard and crinkled, and they stuck out from her light-colored areolas. He let his finger draw circles around the edge of her areola, and he could feel her body trembling with need. The pad of his finger brushed over the hard tip, and Dany practically purred. Harry leaned down and kissed her nipple, making her lovely eyes flutter.
"I won't know unless you tell me," he said, nipping at the crinkled tip.
"I like it well enough," she told him, gasping as he caught the tip between his teeth. "I enjoy ruling, at least," she added. She then moaned as he gently tugged on her aching nipple. Harry loosened his teeth and let her sensitive nipple snap back into place. He tilted his head back up and looked her in the eyes.
"But you don't like the city itself?" he asked her while his hand explored her slim belly. Dany's pale cheeks blushed pink.
"The people are not like us. Their customs are strange … and I prefer to be closer to you," she honestly told him. Her face burned red in embarrassment. "You're not mad … Are you?" she asked nervously. Harry smiled at her and kissed her on the lips. As soon as his lips touched hers, Dany's arms encircled his neck, and she deepened the kiss. She moaned into his mouth when Harry's finger tickled her little belly button. The scent of her arousal was growing stronger. Harry pulled away from her lips and kissed her slender neck. Dany tilted her head back, giving him more skin to kiss. He nipped at her sweet-smelling skin, and she squeezed his muscled arms tightly. He then laid a soft kiss under her chin and began talking again.
"Of course, I'm not mad," he told her. By then, his hand was caressing her inner thigh. Dany closed her legs on his hand and began rubbing her thighs together. The smell of her wet pussy was strong. "Now that Cersei is back in the city, I was thinking about bringing Myrcella back, but I didn't want to leave you alone in Meereen. I decided to talk to you first and see what you wanted."
"I don't want to be left here alone," she immediately told him. Her hand dipped low and cupped his heavy sack. Daenerys had gotten good at handling him without being too rough. Myrcella still got a bit too excited on occasion.
"I can get someone else to rule temporarily until I find a permanent replacement," he told her just as her hand moved up and wrapped around his considerable length. Slowly, she began to pump him, and before long, he was fully hard. "But I should warn you," he moaned. "I may not have another place for you to rule for a while. I'm making a move on Westeros, but …" He was cut off by her.
"Westeros?" she asked confused. "I didn't think you were going to invade the Westerosi."
"I don't intend to invade. Westeros is destroying itself just fine without my help. I'll I need to do is wait for the right opportunities and give it a gentle nudge. When it all falls apart, I'll be there to pick up the pieces, and the smallfolk will be begging me to rule," he exposed the jist of his plan to her. Dany was quiet for a moment, and Harry took the opportunity to nestle her dripping slit. The moment he touched her, his fingers became soaked in her warm juices. Up and down he stroked her soft, hairless lips. Dany's legs parted without her brain's input. Her body was trained to unquestioningly accept his pleasure. However, when he rubbed his thumb over her swollen clit, Daenerys moaned loudly and came.
The Dread Lord of Essos
Dany was too busy thinking about Harold's words to react to the effect that he had on her young body. 'He is going after Westeros,' she thought to herself. He would achieve his goal … Of that, she was certain. He was smart and powerful, and there was no one strong enough to stand in his way. The only question was when. Dany imagined herself sitting on the Iron Throne, ruling Westeros as his wife. 'That is where I belong. That is my destiny. That is my right by birth,' she told herself. She was suddenly pulled from her thoughts when his fingers began toying with her clit. Dany threw her head back and moaned loudly. Beside her, Myrcella began to stir.
She watched as her best friend opened her eyes and blinked a few times before rolling onto her side. Myrcella then saw what was going on between the pair and sat up. Her long, blonde hair was messy, but Harry thought she looked very sexy.
"Again?" she sleepily asked. "He already had us both three times tonight," she said, rubbing her eyes. Myrcella watched as Harry got into position, spread Dany's legs open, and thrust into her. Dany moaned deeply, and her back arched.
"Make it four," Myrcella saw him smirk. The young girl huffed over the fact that she hadn't been woken up to play. "Want to join?" he asked. Myrcella nodded and crawled over to him, and she let her hands caress his muscled belly and chest while he thrust into her friend. Looking down between her legs, Mycella could see that Dany's clit was fully engorged. Reaching down, she placed her fingers on the little nub and started moving them in circles. Dany moaned loudly, obviously liking what she was doing. A hand suddenly cupped her ass, making Myrcella jump slightly. His hand was cupping nearly her entire cheek, and he squeezed it before his fingers dipped between her legs. Mycella moaned as his fingers spread her damp lips.
She could hear his grunts getting louder and louder with every thrust. Harold often complimented them both on how tight they were. Both girls were very pleased that their bodies were able to bring him such pleasure, and they often giggled about it when alone. There was also a bit of a competition between them. While being fucked by him, they each squeezed him as tightly as they could, trying to get him to cum as fast as possible. Just then, both Harry and Dany moaned together, and she could tell that he was filling her with his seed. Sure enough, a moment later, he pulled out, and Myrcella saw globs of his thick, white cum leaking from her sloppy hole. Harry manhandled her body until her head was between Dany's legs. A hard smack on the ass made Myrcella squeak in pain. She knew what he wanted, so she eagerly gave in. Leaning down, she used the flat of her tongue to scoop up a glob of his cum. Myrcella dutifully swallowed the load just as her taut pussy lips were spread open by his massive cock. Her mouth hung open as she groaned in pleasure. Harold wasted no time. He grabbed and held onto her thin waist tightly and began fucking her harder than she had been fucked all night. Mycella was continuously moaning into Dany's pussy as her own was being reshaped to fit his gargantuan size. She gripped Dany's thighs and squeezed them hard before collapsing onto her wet pussy. Her mouth was now pressed against Dany's wet slit, and it seemed that she didn't want to let the opportunity pass her by. Dany grabbed the back of her head and pulled her face in as Harry hit that special place deep inside of her. Myrcella cried out and began lapping at the wet pussy against her mouth. She was licking and slurping the wetness, breathing heavily, and then crying out as her pussy slammed shut around his thrusting cock. Not a second later, she received her own creamy load. Myrcella wasn't sure how long the three were going at it, but she wouldn't wake up the next day until late in the afternoon.
Chapter 57
"Remember what I said, Arya. Don't try to use your strength against your opponent. In your case, your strength is your weakness. Use your speed. Find your opponents' weak points and exploit them," Harry instructed, pushing her away and causing her to stumble back and nearly fall.
Arya's eye narrowed, and he lunged forward as quick as a cat, hacking and slashing. She quickly grew frustrated. She had never landed a single hit on him. He said that her speed was her greatest advantage, but he was twice as fast as her. Growling angrily, she jabbed her needle-like sword directly into the middle of his torso, but all he did was turn to the side and watch it pass by, hitting nothing but air. CLUNK! "Aaack!" she cried out when he womped her on the top of the head with the broadside of his wooden training sword. Arya quickly stepped back, rubbing the top of her tender head.
"Remain calm in battle. Anger will cloud your mind and alter your judgment," he smirked. As she stared at the handsome face that, at that moment, she both loved and hated equally, she had a wicked thought. Running toward him, instead of attacking, she jumped into his arms and kissed him deeply. She moaned into his mouth, pressing her small body against his. Taken by surprise, his grip on her body slackened, and her body slid down until her booted feet touched the floor.
THUNK! "Aaaack!" he cried out when she kicked him in the shin. She squealed in happiness as he hobbled around before bending over to rub his throbbing shin. He looked up at her with a glare before his mouth twisted into a smile. A chuckle left his lips.
"That was a smart move. However, I wouldn't suggest using it in battle," he said, still chuckling. Arya laughed along with him, rubbing the sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand. "I think that's enough practice for today," he told her. Arya nodded in response. "Go wash up, and when you come out of that room, I want to see you wearing one of those pretty dresses that I had made for you back at home," he said, laying down on her bed and relaxing.
"I don't like dresses," she stated stubbornly as she put Needle away.
"You will have a lifetime of doing things that you do not like. Consider this the first," he sighed as his head hit the pillow.
"Harold!" she complained again. Harry turned to her.
"Your sister wears them, and from what I gather, she adores them. And I must say, she looks great in them."
"Yes, but, Sansa is stupid," she argued, her arms crossed over her chest.
"Just go!" he amusedly bellowed, pointing to the door that led into the bathing and changing room. Arya grumbled and stomped off. Harry closed his eyes for a little nap, and he didn't open them until he heard the wooden door squeak back open.
He almost laughed when he saw that she was covering her chest with one arm while trying to keep the slits in her dress from flaring with the other. Her dresses were similar in style to Melisandre's with the plunging neckline and double slits that went from the hips, all the way down. As always, the older women in society hated the newest fashions while the pretty, young women, who could pull off the look, wanted desperately to update their wardrobes. Arya's weren't cheap copies though. They were made from high-quality spider silk straight from one of his many silk farms in Sothoryos. The liquid-like material hugged the body and practically shimmered in the light.
"Come over here," he lightly ordered, and Arya quickly stepped up to Harry, who was still sitting on the edge of her bed. Harry seemed to hold power over the Stark women. When he ordered, they followed without question. By then, they had completely thrown their lot in with his. A smart move, Harry thought. He reached up and gently pulled her arms away from her chest. The thin material was nearly skin-tight and hugged her body in all the right ways. Her breasts were still on the smallish side, barely a handful, and he could see the little bumps in the material where he knew her nipples to be. Her entire cleavage was now on display, along with most of her stomach and belly button. The neckline ended just below her navel. The two slits in the long, flowing skirt showed off her pale, smooth legs. With a cheeky smile, Harry placed his hand on her calf and slowly eased his hand up the back of her leg. He made sure to tickle the skin behind her knee. As he did, he heard the shuddering gasp leave her lips. His fingertips caressed the back of her thigh, and he smelled the faint scent of her arousal. He then used his other hand to do the same with her other leg. He could feel Arya's body trembling with either need or nervousness … He wasn't sure. Harry looked up and saw her staring down at him in surprise. She wasn't expecting him to be treating her in such a way. He knew that she was sensitive about her looks from childhood bullying. No doubt, she thought that he would never be interested in Horseface Arya. However, being on her own for so long had made her more confident. He could tell that by the way she sometimes subtly flirted with him … or at least Arya's version of flirting. Like the kiss she had given him earlier … There was no way that she would have done that had she not been trained by the Faceless Men. They instilled confidence in her, whether she knew it or not.
"You look beautiful, Arya," he told her kindly. Arya blushed deeply and turned her head in embarrassment. "I'm glad to see that you took my advice and are keeping your skin nice and smooth." Harry's fingers crept a little more inward so that his fingertips were gliding up and down her inner thighs. The smell of her wet pussy was growing stronger.
"Y-You are?" she asked with a slight stutter. Her confidence still needed a bit of work.
"Of course," Harry teased. "What if a boy suddenly threw you on the bed and tore this little dress right off of your body? You'd want to look as enticing to him as possible … Wouldn't you?"
"I s-suppose," she shakily answered.
"There is, however, one problem with your attire," he stated, looking her over.
"Wha…," she began but was cut off by Harry. He reached up and grabbed her underwear at the waistline. He then slowly began to drag them down her thighs.
"These dresses are made to be worn over your naked body," he said, pulling them down past her knees. As he did, they dropped down and pooled around her ankles. He helped her step out of them while she held the slits closed in a panic.
"But everyone will see me down there!" she squealed nervously. Harry shook his head.
"The weight of the silk will keep you covered … except, of course, in a strong wind. But in such weather, you would likely be wearing something besides a dress," he explained.
The scent of her pussy was strong now. He could smell how aroused the young woman was. Harry was surprised that she wasn't dripping down her thighs.
"Though, Sansa enjoys the fact that her dress might blow up at any moment. The thought thrills her," Harry smiled, caressing Arya's thighs a little harder now. "You wouldn't understand it since you're still young and inexperienced when it comes to men. Thankfully, that is a problem that I am more than happy to fix."
The Dread Lord of Essos
Arya couldn't believe what was transpiring. Harold stood up, as tall and handsome as ever, and began to ease the dress down her body. The gray dress was so tight that it practically peeled off of her. Her embarrassment went into overdrive when her small breasts were exposed to him. She saw that he was looking down, and he could surely see how hard her nipples were. She supposed that her breasts weren't the worst thing about her body. Sure, they were small, but thankfully, they were still growing. At least they were symmetrical, positioned close together, and were quite perky. Her nipples weren't large, about the size of a silver Stag, and they were a pleasant color of pink. All in all, things could be worse for her in that particular department, but as he lowered and took her dress with him, her heart began to pound mercilessly in her chest.
Her belly was now completely uncovered, and she nearly fainted when he leaned in and kissed her belly button. His hands were gripping her hips tightly, sending a whirlwind of dirty thoughts through her mind. She was throbbing between her legs in a way that she had never felt. She had obviously had crushes on a few older men when she was younger … that was entirely normal, but the thought of them never made her body feel the way that Harold did. Her dress was further peeled down her body and over her hips. His eyes were on her lower belly, and after one last tug of the material, her dress pooled at her feet, and her entire lower half was on full display. His hands slid up the backs of her thighs, and he cupped her cheeks in each hand. A hard squeeze made her jump. "I can see that your legs aren't the only thing that's perfectly smooth," she heard him tease. Her face burned hot, and she wanted nothing more than to cover her eyes. Thankfully, she refrained. Arya didn't want to seem like some little girl who couldn't handle a man like him.
Again, he kissed her belly button, but this time, his lips didn't stop. They continued down her belly until he was laying soft kisses on her hairless mound. It was Sansa who recommended that she remove her hair down there. She said that men love women who are completely smooth between their legs. From the way Harold was kissing her thighs and nuzzling her mound with the tip of his nose, Arya could see that maybe her older sister was correct. She would try and remember to thank her at some point, though she was a bit too busy at the moment. Suddenly, Harold gripped her cheeks hard, and she felt them spread apart. Cool air rushed over her asshole and searing genitals, sending a shiver down her body. "Are you cold?" she heard him ask. Before she could answer, he continued.
"Don't worry. I'll heat you up," he said, scooping her into his arms. Arya squeaked and wrapped her arms around his neck as he bridal carried her to her bed. After setting her down, he went on to remove the last bits of her clothing. He untied her fancy, leather boots that went with the dress and pulled them off of her feet. As her socks went flying to the opposite side of the room, Arya now found herself nude on her bed with her dream man hovering over her.
Arya knew what was about to happen, or she thought she did, and while no girl was ever completely sure if they were ready for such things, she was as ready as she would ever be. All she had to do was give him a clear sign that she wanted him to continue. She did so by reaching up and beginning to unbutton his shirt while he looked into her dark brown eyes. Once the last button was undone, his shirt opened up, revealing the body of a god. Arya couldn't help but stare at the rippling muscles of his chest and stomach. 'I could wash my clothes on his stomach muscles!' she thought, amazed at the sight. Without thinking, her hands reached out and touched his chest. She let her fingers glide across his warm skin until she was tracing every muscle in his stomach. He then took his shirt off and stood up. She watched with bated breath as he took the rest of his clothes off. When his trousers were lowered, she gaped at the size of his thing. It sprang up angrily and looked to be about the size of her forearm. She swallowed loudly, wondering if that thing would tear her in half. He stood over her in a hulking manner, stroking his long, thick cock while looking down at her. He must have seen the nervousness plastered across her face.
"Have you ever been with a man?" he asked her. Arya quickly shook her head. Her mouth was unable to produce a sound. "I didn't think so," he went on. "Just relax and I'll take care of you," he promised. Arya nodded.
Her heart was thumping wildly when he crawled onto the bed, his massive cock waggling around. His hands found her thin ankles, and he slid them all the way up her legs until he reached her knees. All it took was a slight push for him to spread them apart. There was nothing left for her to hide. He could now see everything. He could see her puffy lips completely bereft of hair, he could see her little, pink slit that was shiny with wetness, and he could see her clit, which was swollen with arousal. His hands crept ever higher, and they finally stopped at the highest point of her inner thighs. His thumbs began gently stroking her soft lips. Arya's hands gripped her blanket tightly as she wondered what would be coming next. Harold leaned down and kissed her stomach, then he kissed it a little higher. When he kissed the bottom of one of her breasts, Arya moaned and arched her back.
"Your sister does the same thing when I kiss her breasts," he seductively told her. Arya already knew what was going on between him and Sansa. The shocking part was that he was doing the same to their mother. Harry kissed the area between her breasts, and then he kissed the tops of each one.
"The last time I had your mother and sister in the same bed, I was thinking that the only thing that would make it better was if you were there," he said with a slight smile. Arya's eyes went wide, and she gasped out loud. That was certainly some new information. He would take them both at the same time? She didn't notice his hand slipping between her legs until his finger stroked her wet slit. The moment he touched her, Arya's eyes fluttered, and she cried out in desperation. Her lower half began squirming as she rubbed herself against his fingers.
"I hope the next time, you'll join us," he stated, giving her a salacious smile before leaning over and capturing her lips in a kiss. Arya greedily accepted his kiss and almost instantly deepened it.
She opened her legs as wide as possible, letting him touch her in any way that he desired. Arya had touched herself before, but it never felt as good as the way he was touching her now. He knew exactly what he was doing as his finger dipped into her, and then he used her wetness as a lubricant when he pressed his finger against her hard clit and began rubbing it. Arya moaned deeply into his mouth as he forced her arms above her head. Breaking the kiss a little too soon for her liking, she lay there breathing heavily as he kissed her neck. He then kissed down to her breasts where he took his hand from between her legs and palmed her small, perky tits. He squeezed them, making Arya squirm. It felt incredible when he flicked his thumbs over the hard tips of her nipples, causing pleasure to race down her spine. It got even better when he placed kisses around her little, pink nipples before taking one into his mouth.
"Ohhh!" she squeaked as his tongue traced the edge of her areola while his hands groped her other breast. He then let her nipple go with a wet pop before placing a kiss right on the sensitive tip. Arya couldn't help but pull on his hair and force his mouth to her other nipple. He gently bit down on the hard tip, giving it a little tug before letting snap back into place. He then licked it hard and sucked it into his mouth, his tongue wiggling against the tip the entire time. Down below, her pussy was gushing juices. She could feel how wet she was. The blanket underneath her was soaked in her juices.
Eventually, he let go of her breasts and began making his way down her belly. Her hands were still gripping his hair tightly when he reached her belly button. He laid soft kisses all around it as he placed his hands on her thighs. She could feel him applying pressure to her legs, keeping them open for what was to come. Arya didn't have to wait long. A moment later, his mouth was kissing and nipping at the soft skin of her hairless mound. She whined pathetically and bucked her hips, wanting more of herself in his mouth. Harold, however, was very strong and was easily able to control her body's position. He further teased her by kissing her thighs and licking the wetness that was streaked down them. "Harold, pleeease!" she heard herself beg. Hearing his delighted chuckle, she wasn't ready for when his lips attached themselves to her hard, throbbing clit.
As soon as he applied suction, Arya became overwhelmed, her head began spinning, and she cried out while her body bucked and thrashed. As before, Harold had her pinned and was easily able to continue sucking on her little nub. At some point, Arya's entire lower half was up in the air. Her legs were swinging wildly as he pressed his face down between her legs. She could feel his tongue everywhere. She wasn't sure what was better … when he lapped at her clit, when he penetrated her with his tongue, or when he tickled the rim of her asshole with the tip of his tongue. All of it was utterly wonderful, she thought, and she hoped that he would perform such acts many more times in the future. After she had came several times on his tongue, Harold had decided that he had waited long enough.
Arya found herself straddling him, who was flat on his back. She could feel his magnificent girth underneath her. It was laying flat against her wet slit. She experimented by grinding her hips against it and found the pleasure to be exquisite. Biting her lower lip, she bucked and rolled her hips, smearing her juices all along his absurdly long shaft. His hands were busy stroking the smooth skin of her thighs and occasionally feeling up her jiggling breasts. Seeing the smoky look in his eyes, Arya knew that it was time. He pulled her flat against him so that her breasts were mashed against his hard chest. One of his powerful arms was wrapped around her thin waist, keeping her body pinned in place. With his other hand, he reached down and placed the tip of his cock against her tight, little opening. Burying her face in his neck, she gasped as she felt her lips forced open, and the head of his monster slowly sank into her. Arya whimpered a bit from the sudden pain of being stretched. Then, Harold lovingly caressed her bare back, and suddenly, the pain vanished. Instead, her body was filled with intense pleasure, and the deeper he sank into her, the better it felt. Arya lightly bit down on his shoulder as he hit a spot in her that had never been touched. As he hit it, she felt her inner walls squeeze him so tightly that going any deeper was difficult. At least it would have been for someone other than him.
Strong hands cupped her ass and squeezed while his cock finally hit the deepest part of her body. Arya didn't even bother trying to stop herself from squirming. The sensation of her hard nipples rubbing against his skin felt wonderful, and it was even better with him inside of her. With there being no pain, he didn't have to wait for her to get used to his size. He just held her waist tightly and began thrusting into her. Arya's mind went blank the moment he truly began fucking her. Instantly, she began cumming so hard that she was afraid that she might pass out. She was quite glad that she didn't, because she would have missed the greatest moments of pleasure in her short life. "Oh … It feels …" she huffed out, her warm breath hitting his skin.
"Good?" he finished for her in an amused voice. Arya nodded and cried out as her orgasm kept getting stronger. The sounds of her penetration were getting louder and wetter. The clapping of his hips striking her ass was steady and brutal. Her insides were hugging him so tightly that he shouldn't have been able to thrust into her so fast, but the vast amount of pussy juice practically pouring from her slit was making her incredibly slick.
"Fuck yourself on my cock," he ordered, and Arya acted without thinking. Her hips began bouncing up and down, slowly and unsurely. Harold, thankfully, grabbed her hips and showed her how to properly move them. Within minutes, she was expertly bouncing her hips while her chest lay flat against his. For some reason, she found this even more pleasurable. He wasn't the one giving her pleasure. She was giving him pleasure now. She found the concept very appealing as she worked his cock for all it was worth. There was no resistance. Her pussy was so wet that her cunt glided up and down the skin of his shaft. Gaining confidence, she used her hands to push off his chest. Sitting up straight, she started rolling her hips in a way that best gave her pleasure. Her cheeks were flushed, and little beads of sweat were forming on her forehead. Harold's hands glided up her sides, and his fingers tickled her underarms, which was much more sensual than she thought possible. That small action finally set her off for good. Her pussy clamped down harder than it ever had. Her insides were fluttering and milking his cock while she squealed and bounced on his lap. Her small tits were bouncing until he cupped them and began tweaking her nipples. Arya's body shuddered and spasmed. She then collapsed forward, and Harold happily caught her against his chest. It only took a few more thrusts into her cumming pussy until she felt him begin to fill her with his seed.
Arya couldn't help but giggle against his chest, even while she was being seeded. She no longer felt like ugly, old Arya Horseface. She finally felt like a real woman. Of course, Harold was happy to treat her as such. Before she could recover, she found herself on her hands and knees taking his fat cock again and again.