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Seeds of the Northern Kingdom	By : Sigil_of_House_Throckmorton Category: A through F > A Song of Ice and Fire Views: 99161 -:- Recommendations : 1 -:- Currently Reading : 5
Disclaimer: The setting and characters of the series A Song of Ice and Fire belong to George R. R. Martin. I make no profit from this work, and will remove it should I be contacted by GRRM or any of his legal representatives.

Chapter List
- 1-Val
- 2-Alys
- 3-Lyanna
- 4-Meera
- 5-Wynafryd
- 6-Wylla
- 7-Sansa
- 8-Arya
- 9-Epilogue: Daenerys
- 10-Omake: Dany
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Alys Thenn arrived with a small party of only a dozen men and women. All of her guards were her late husband’s men, although her attendants seemed mostly Northern men and women. King Jon Stark stood in front of the Great Keep in the courtyard of Winterfell to greet her, with Val on his left and Ghost sitting at his right, his head now reaching Jon’s shoulder.

The lady stepped out of her carriage dressed a gown of thick black wool, with a white cloak stylized with the arms of House Thenn worn proudly around her shoulders. She looked much as he remembered, as tall as he was with long limbs and a long face to match. Her hair was thickly braided, much like Val’s, but her cheeks were fuller and her arms not quite as skinny as she had been upon their last meeting. She did not accept the offered hand of Winterfell’s steward, Eddison Tollett, as she descended the steps and placed herself in front of the royal couple.

“Lady Thenn, be welcome to Winterfell. All of her hospitalities are yours. We will do whatever we can to comfort you as you mourn the loss of your husband.” Jon did not like speaking so formally, but his reputation with the smallfolk, slowly returning to the castle as the spring thaw continued, was still contentious at best. While few were still alive who remembered him, everyone had heard how the King was raised a bastard. It was in these situations where he was easily judged that appearances were everything in overturning their presumptions.

“Thank you, Your Grace. House Thenn is in your debt for taking me in during our time of need,” replied Alys, with a tone similarly stilted in formality. He noted that she did not kneel, or even curtsey. No doubt to appease her Thenns.

“It is worth no debt to us, Alys. You are always welcome in our home. Won’t you come inside and join me for a meal?” Val said, seeming to have caught on. Jon suspected she had never welcomed a lady into a castle before, but no one would know it by observing her. There had been no extra food with which to feast after the war had ended, and lords and men alike were quick to return to their families. Jon had been ruling by raven for over a year.

Val escorted Alys and her maids into the keep while Jon assigned her men to be instructed by Edd. Jon wanted to follow them, to pull Alys aside and ensure that what they planned was truly her wish and not a move out of desperation. He also knew that appearing too familiar would only draw unwanted eyes and ears, which would lead to words like ‘lovers’ and ‘bastards’ being said, which never ended well for anyone.

Instead, Jon and Ghost found Othell Yarwyck attempting to direct the giant Wun Weg Wun Dar Wun to turn a stone on its side that would have required four men to lift. Wun Wun had a much better grasp of the common tongue than he did a year previously, but Leathers still had to help with complicated instructions. Apparently the word ‘flip’ was not something easily communicated in the Old Tongue.

The First Keep was far from finished, but Jon still checked its progress every day. He owed it to the good men who had given up their lives for his family’s indolence.

After hearing the daily progress report from Yarwyck, Ghost bounded out the Hunter’s Gate and Jon went to the training yard and met with Iron Emmett. The master-at-arms of Winterfell might not have been anointed with the seven knightly oils of Lady Catelyn’s gods, but he could still knock Jon on his arse in a fight more times than not.

“You’re fighting like one of them newborn fawns out in the Wolfswood today, Your Grace!” Emmett told him after Jon found himself on his arse once again. “You won’t get better if you fight with your head wandering off wherever it goes. Have at me again, this time like you mean it!”

And so he did.

Soon enough, Jon found himself at dinner. There was no feast to welcome the Lady Thenn, but she dined at the high table and was served by Dryn Giantsbane, the King’s own page. Dinners at Winterfell were not so formal as when he had been a bastard, but nor were they the chaos of a Free Folk civilization on the march. Alys did not seem to mind. They were all able to make casual conversation, and although Alys seemed distant and sad she still retained the demure smiles from her wedding night and would sometimes look and speak as though she were in a dream rather than reality, something about her Jon remembered from her visit to Lord Eddard’s castle all those years ago.

“You must join me for some mulled wine in my solar, Alys. We have not enough spearwives in our castle, and most kneeler women are too frightened of me to provide good company,” Val said to her with a grin that brought out the dimples in her cheeks. “The King will join us as well, I suspect,” she directed at him, with a blonde eyebrow arched meaningfully. Jon could run no longer.

He escorted the ladies through the halls to the chambers Val had chosen for herself, which had once belonged to Vayon Poole. They were among the cooler rooms in the keep, the fire having destroyed any furniture or tapestries that might have once marked the solar as that of a steward rather than a queen. Ghost lay on the stone close to the hearth, tongue lolled out the side of his mouth. He dismissed Dryn after the wine had been set over the fire and settled onto a padded lounge as Val and Alys made themselves comfortable.

“You have been avoiding me, Your Grace,” Alys stated after a lull had passed in her conversation with Val. “I understand that the arrangements must be displeasing to you. You have already done so much for me, even before you were King….”

Jon felt his heart twist in guilt. “I did not mean to avoid you, my lady. It is just that … this is not a situation that I have ever been prepared to handle.”

Alys gave a sullen chuckle. “I would expect not. To go from a bastard boy to the King in the North, to raise a noble house out of a wildli—forgive me, Val, out of a man of the Free Folk. And then to have him die so young, and so pointlessly after all the battles he fought for you and with you, a-and…” At this point Alys burst into tears and began to sob.

Crying women were something else Jon had never been prepared to handle, and the look he gave Val must have made him appear no better than a frightened rabbit. Val shook her head in exasperation before sliding into the chair alongside Alys and began to rub small circles across her back and shoulders. Alys leaned into the older woman and cried tears into her grey and white wool dress.

“H-he scared me at first, you know. When y-you told me that I was to marry him, my first thought was ‘at least Cregan will be terrified of him as well’. B-but Sigorn was so gentle to me on our wedding night, and he held me afterward and told me that he would protect me as long as I was his.”

A sob wracked her body and she shivered. “When you took him south to the Twins, I thought that I would lose yet another man that I loved. Just like Edd, and Tor, and Daryn, and father too. I even had a nightmare that you had taken his head.” She gave a sniffle, seeming to calm some. “But when Sigorn returned with you, he looked so happy. He and his men had scaled a great castle, and brought low true southron knights. He talked of lizard-lions in the Neck, and a river mightier than the Milkwater. He talked of his strong King, who defeated an army with a band of raiders and frog-men and kept his vengeance close to his heart but his justice closer.”

Alys offered a grim smile through her tears. “He would never kneel, but he told me that if he did, it would be to you.” Val’s delicate hands brushed the tears away from her tall cheeks. “And while I am heartbroken that I cannot truly carry that wonderful man’s sons, he would be glad to know that your line would continue his.”

The willowy lady embraced the pale northern queen before standing from her seat and approaching Jon. It could not be the saunter she clearly intended – swaying hips could not make up for bloodshot eyes and a running nose – but Jon understood her intention nonetheless.

“I will do whatever I can to preserve his legacy, my lady.”

“No formalities when we do this. I will be Alys, and you will be Jon,” she said as she kissed him on the mouth. She collapsed into his lap as another quiet sob shook her. Fat salty tears, and perhaps some snot, mingled with their lips, but the kiss was salvaged by the fervor she brought. Her tongue met his, clumsy and desperate for contact.

“You two may retire to my chambers,” Val uttered, not unkindly. “I may be used to the sight and sounds of coupling, but someone must prevent my maids from becoming overeager in their service. I’ll ensure you are not disturbed.”

Jon separated from the kiss and glanced at Val, seeking final confirmation that what he was about to do would not hurt her. There was an unusual hesitance in Val’s expression, but she gave him a soft smile and indicated once again to her sleeping chambers and the bed within them. His worries eased when she sat next to Ghost and stroked the white fur behind his ears, each as big as her palm.

Alys was insistent, and Jon could hardly close the door behind them once they arrived. He deposited her on the furs and climbed on beside her.

“I do not kn–mmmph.” I do not know what you prefer, Jon meant to say, but Alys seemed to have no problems communicating her desires despite her lack of words. Her hands were running through his hair, stroking his beard, down his chest and had undone the laces of his breeches before he truly had time to respond.

Jon tried to reciprocate as best he could. He messaged her scalp with his fingertips, rubbed small circles down the back of her gown as he sought the laces there, and pulled her dress from her shoulders by rubbing his palms firmly across her shoulder blades.

Ygritte had been very vocal when they fucked, cursing and grunting even when they were surrounded by dozens of other people. Jon had not noticed until the next morning, but looking back on it, everyone must have known exactly what they were doing. He had never taken Val in front of an audience like that, but she would also comment during their love-making, sometimes in full sentences and sometimes in sweet moans and heady sighs.

Alys was nothing like them. Her responses were all completely tactile. If Jon fondled her in a way she liked, she would reward him with a hand passed over his cock, or by sucking his lower lip into her mouth. If she was displeased, she would hold her hands still where they were. It was novel and altogether different than anything Jon was used to, but certainly enjoyable.

Eventually each article of their clothing was cast aside and then they were bare before one another. Even though Alys appeared less starved than she had at Castle Black, she remained skinny. The real difference between her and his previous lovers was that she was skinny and soft. Her stomach had none of the muscular outlines he had come to expect from Ygritte, and to a lesser extent Val; it was soft and skinny and delicate, much like the lady herself. Her breasts were still small and peaked, and were the firmest part of her flesh when he took them in hand.

Alys continued to roam her hands across his body, occasionally stopping at the scars, inspecting them gently before carrying on. Even when Jon brushed his cock against the wetness of her mound, she persisted in her physical responses, this time by applying pressure to his buttocks with her palms and feet, as though she were trying to direct him inside.

Jon was not one to protest such a thing. He drew his hips back and positioned the now dripping tip against her soft nether-lips. One of her hands left his arse to separate the folds and guide him where he needed to be. Jon concentrated on kissing her as he eased his way inside. He ran his tongue along both her lips, circled her tongue within her mouth, and traced her teeth before starting the pattern again. Bit by bit, his cock slid into her warm embrace.

Eventually he reached a depth that her arousal had not, despite his cock being buried only halfway. Jon began the process of retracting it, trying to keep the same speed as before, to gather more moisture from her entrance with his tip before pushing back in to continue the process. Jon didn’t notice how long it took, exactly, but eventually he found himself making smooth, full strokes in and out of Alys. He luxuriated in her soft, warm cunt.

Very rarely would Jon take things this slow with Val, usually on their second or third attempt of a night. Ygritte was energetic no matter how many times they had gone. Alys seemed to appreciate a slower tempo, and Jon was if nothing else a man who could adapt. He kept his hands busy, twisting small patterns into her wavy brown hair, so close but not quite like his own. He palmed and squeezed her breasts, her nipples too sensitive for pinching and twisting. He grabbed an arse cheek and stroked up her leg to change the angle of penetration slightly, eliciting a subdued but definitely positive response from both of them.

After longer than Jon had ever lasted before, he heard Alys’s breathing deepen. Her cunt, which had been smooth and yielding the entire time, spasmed demurely. The light fluttering was sweet and gentle, just like the lady he was lying with, and a surge of affection swelled within him. She had lost so much in just a few years, more men to war and treason and bad luck than many others, but she had clearly loved the man he had married her to as a stranger. And now, as a tribute to that man, she was willingly giving her body to Jon.

Affection was not the only thing surging within Jon. As her orgasm died away and the hands Alys had been encouraging him with relaxed around him in a gentle embrace, Jon let his orgasm materialize. He stilled his lips and hips against hers, his tongue deep within her mouth as his cock twitched deep within her cunt. Jon pulled away just in time to notice a new set of tears forming at the corners of her eyes.

“I hope I have done nothing to hurt you, my lady.” Jon had honestly enjoyed the experience, and he thought Alys had reciprocated in his pleasure. Perhaps not. I am not her true husband, and she must miss him.

She sniffed before responding. “No Jon, nothing at all. That was wonderful. That was exactly how Sigorn and I would…. Well, with a wife as spirited as Val, I did not expect our coupling to be so gentle.” Despite the tears running down her face, her grey eyes smiled up at him from the furs. “That was what I needed, I think, to start getting over him. And hopefully we have created a new Sigorn tonight, to carry on the legacy of the first.”

They both startled at the knock on the door, followed shortly by Val’s honey-blonde head poking in.

“I hope you two are done, because the maids are getting suspicious. I still have to redress you, Alys, before you can return to your rooms, and Jon is going to owe me a tussle before the night is done.”

Alys let out a diminutive giggle and stood up from the bed. Her coltish body pulled Val into a hug, and she kissed her over and over on the cheeks while muttering soft words of thanks into her ears.
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Seeds of the Northern Kingdom