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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
- 2
- 3
- 4
Underbrush crushes underneath him as he runs through the trees. The scent of his prey is growing stronger. He hears it crashing through the new growth, desperate to get away. It will not matter. He is the fastest one in this forest, the master of this land. There is nothing here he could not take, if he wanted to. And his prey will be taken soon.

It appears before him in a clearing, trying to find new cover in which to hide. Teeth tear into the back of its neck and claws rake down its side as he hits the beast from an angle. The horns try to stab at him, but it cannot turn its head far enough. Another bite and a crunch of bone and the prey moves no more. Warm meat and blood fill his mouth as he eats his kill. One this large will keep him fed for a few days.

He can spend more time in the man-den with his man-pack if he hunts bigger game. The men would toss him scraps of what they ate, but they were always weary when he wandered near them. Standing, he could look most in the eyes now, and they constantly smelled of fear. They need not cower like prey. He only attacks when his other self or his other self’s pack is in danger. Both of the mates his other self took are now carrying pups. He can smell it on their sweat, and hear the fast heart beating within the keen one. They will both be protected like his own.

A loud crack comes from downwind.

Something approaches him from the trees. Something without his stealth, something loud. Something loud and big.

A great brown bear crashes through the wood. On all legs she was as tall as him, but she outweighs even his considerable form. If she came to take his kill, it will be a hard fight.

He stands over his kill; muzzle covered in blood and bits of flesh, he bares his teeth and raises his hackles to show the intruder that he is no small threat. The bear bellows at him but continues to close in; now beginning a circle around him while edging ever closer.

He snaps his jaws and repositions to stay facing the bear. She roars again and stands as a man would to show her large front claws before falling back to the earth with a thud.

Fierce green eyes lock onto him. Skinchanger!

The bear had noticed too. Its head cocks to the side and it stops its advance. Another roar, this time questioning instead of threatening.

The kill is large, and even if he ate his fill, there would be meat left over. Hackles are lowered and he lies down on the back half, claiming the meaty haunches and belly for himself. The she-bear understands and approaches. She crushes the antlers beneath her powerful claws before burying her muzzle into the muscles behind the neck.

Meat now swells his belly, and pre-dawn light is coming through the clearing.

He woke up in his lady wife’s chambers with her honey-blonde hair tangled in his hand, the other protectively wrapped around her barely-there swell.

Jon rolled onto his back. Alys was pregnant, if Ghost’s nose was anything to be believed. They had tried dozens of times due to the importance of getting the timing close enough to Sigorn’s death for the paternity not to fall under question. She missed her moon blood a fortnight ago, but after discussing matters with Val and a woods witch settled with some of the Free Folk in the nearby Wolfswood, she continued to share his bed until they were sure. It would take little to convince Val, but Alys would definitely wonder why they were both so sure of it. Words like ‘warg’ and ‘skinchanger’ were occasionally heard in whispers around Winterfell, more by Ghost than Jon, but no one had yet made the accusation to his face. Alys Thenn might trust Jon, but she grew up with the same stories of evil skinchangers as all highborn northerners. It would be better not to tell her.

Another skinchanger is close, though. Jon rarely encountered skinchangers inside their animals, and never before he heard that they could do it. Last night’s wolf dream was startling primarily because he had no idea to whom the bear belonged. There was a settlement towards the White Knife where a goat-changer of the Free Folk had homesteaded, but he knew of no bears.

Jon donned his robe and returned to his solar to find Satin waiting to dress him for the day. He was to hold court that morning, and after rinsing in a basin Satin gave him his breeches and a tunic, both grey, and a white doublet with the Stark direwolf emblazoned on the chest. He pulled the largely ceremonial grey fur cloak about his shoulders while Satin laced up his boots. Finally, the bronze and iron crown forged for his brother was set upon his head. The Blackwoods would not say how they recovered it, but Jon was grateful nonetheless. Jon proceeded to make his way to the Great Hall to break his fast.

When he arrived at the audience chamber, people of all size and shape and birth were lined up along the walls and packing the floor. Merchants mingled with smallfolk while Lady Thenn sat near Gilly, although Sam was conspicuously absent from his normal position as scribe. Fires burned brightly in three hearths on either side of the chamber, leading towards the stone steps of the small stone dais that bore the throne. The intricately carved throne his father would use only for the most formal of occasions was burned in the sack, and while functional, the ironwood replacement was hardly as impressive.

He sat down, facing the gathering, the empty identical chair on his left to be filled should Val wish to hold court with him later in the morning. She performed admirably in her duties, especially in regards to troubles or disputes among the Free Folk, but she found most of it ‘as dull as a Baratheon’s company’ and skipped as many times as she attended.

Dolorous Edd introduced various men and women; some seeking work at the castle, a group of farmers wanting to settle over a nearby hill on Stark lands to farm turnips and radishes and pigs and horses, a group of Free Folk wishing to expand their hunting rights in the Wolfswood, the guildmaster of the shipwrights from White Harbor petitioning for more logging permits to be granted in the Hornwood lands, traders coming to offer gems to house Stark to create a magnificent and likely gaudy royal crown, a man from Winter Town demanding justice for the rape of his daughter by a guard. The petitions went on and on, requests and pleas and some threats for good measure. They were all dealt with, agreements signed and sealed by the king’s own hand and times set for trials and future meetings.

“A new arrival, Your Grace,” Edd told him about halfway through the morning. “I didn’t know she was coming, else I would have scheduled a formal welcoming from you. She seemed more insulted at my presence than the lack of yours.”

Jon rested his forehead in his palm. “Just introduce her, Edd.”

To the audience, his steward announced his surprise guest. “The Lady Lyanna Mormont, of Bear Island!” Jon perked up and looked at the arrival.

The oak and iron doors to the antechamber opened to reveal a girl who looked to be no more than five-and-ten. Her thick brown hair appeared to be straight, but tied in two braids on either side of her head, resting in front of her shoulders. Her face was round but with a defined jaw. She wore a brown dress with green fringe displaying the green and black Mormont crest resting proudly on her small bosom, and a bear-skin cloak draped around her shoulders. She had a fierce demeanor as she approached the dais before kneeling in front of the steps and bowing her head.

“Jon Stark, King in the North!” she cried with a contralto voice that was deep but still came across as girlish. She glanced up at him with fierce green eyes, as though awaiting his approval.

Jon looked about awkwardly before realizing what she wanted him to do. “Lady Lyanna Mormont of Bear Island, rise and be welcome to Winterfell.” She rose and smiled at him. “Why have you come to court unannounced?”

With that, her face fell. “I apologize, Your Grace. My raven must have been lost … um….” Despite her confident entrance, Lyanna now looked a girl her age.

Jon did not want her to suffer unduly. “These things are expected, my lady. We shall have rooms made available for you and your party. What was the message sent with this raven?”

“It concerns the lordship of Bear Island, Your Grace,” she said, looking a bit more relaxed. “My mother, the Lady Maege, died in her sleep the night she returned from the war.”

“I know this,” replied Jon. “She was one of the North’s finest commanders in the field, and a true and good woman besides. The North has lost a great lady, and she will be missed.”

“Thank you, Your Grace. However, her death has left a succession crisis for Bear Island that I’ve spent the past year trying to resolve. I think I have a solution, but it seemed to me that I should bring such matters of state to the King in the North.”

Jon was impressed by the way she composed herself when speaking of such things. He indicated that she should continue.

“With my lady mother dead, and no sons to inherit, the lands and title fall to her daughters. Dacey, my eldest sister, was murdered protecting King Robb at the Red Wedding. My next sister, Alysane, is now Alysane Giantsbane, the Lady of the Gift. I asked her to return home, but she thinks she is better suited to helping her husband Toregg whenever he steps into his lordship in full. She stated that she would step aside from the lordship of our family lands to raise their children at Oakenshield.”

Jon gave a nod. “If you have papers bearing this intent of hers and her seal, then I will set her aside. That leaves your sister Lyra as the heir, I believe.”

“Exactly,” confirmed Lyanna, “… except that she never returned to Bear Island. Based on what mother told me the night she got home, Lyra fell in love with a crannogman while she was stuck in Greywater Watch with King Robb’s will.”

“I remember him from our campaign. Lucen. He is a good man, and will make a fine husband for her.” Jon noticed her skeptic look. “How is this a problem?”

“Well, Your Grace, his full name is Lucen Reed, and he was Lord Howland’s younger brother.”

Darkness surrounded him. Air frozen and stale drenched his lungs. He was back in the crypts, far below the First Keep and fighting for his life. Howland Reed, Lord of the Neck, turned to pure ice beside him and shattered.

Howland Reed, whose two children were missing since the sack of Winterfell, never to be heard from again.

“I think I see, my lady. Lucen Reed is now the Lord of Greywater Watch, and currently has no heirs.”

Lyanna blushed. “Well, he does, actually. My sister gave birth to a son not six moons ago. But their son will be the lord of the crannogmen should Howland’s children never be found, and they plan to raise him in their ways.”

“Then I assume she also wished to be excluded from the succession of Bear Island?” Jon asked.

“Yes, Your Grace, and I have papers from her saying as such as well.” Lyanna seemed to be building up her courage again.

“You need not tell me what has happened to Jorelle, my lady. Her wedding to Hoster Blackwood happened in this castle’s own godswood when I awarded them lordship of the Twins. After all, she was a fourth daughter, who would have thought she would need to succeed her mother?” Jon realized he had gotten to the meat of it now.

“Aye, Your Grace, exactly,” Lyanna acknowledged. “I received her letter formally withdrawing her claim not two moons ago.” The girl started shaking in nervous anticipation. “When this whole thing started, I was but a girl. But ravens are unsure and slow to fly in winter, and since then I have flowered and am now a woman grown. I have been castellan of Bear Island in my family’s absence, and I held it against Ironborn raids for two of those years. I have been ruling Bear Island in all but name since that time. I have come to request that you formalize me as the Lady of Bear Island, Your Grace!”

Lyanna had clearly become more uneasy as she fought through her speech and tried to make up for it by getting progressively louder, finishing with a shout. The hall was silent when she finished and her face burned in embarrassment.

Luckily, attention was soon diverted away from her when the antechamber doors squeaked as they were pushed open by white direwolf the size of a pony with blood still lightly coated around his snout. Smallfolk and traders and even guards moved aside and gave Ghost a wide berth through the hall. Lyanna was watching him wide-eyed as he came around her side and stopped briefly to give her a giant wet lick on the side of her face before climbing up the steps and sitting himself to the right of the throne, looking regal as he faced the court.

Lyanna stared at Ghost without making a sound, despite the considerable amount of drool dripping from her cheek. Jon was mortified at Ghost’s behavior, but nothing could be done about it now. Best keep going and hope no one mentions that again….

“You need not be so apprehensive about this request, Lady Mormont,” Jon explained, trying to use a soothing voice. “I recall a king in this land not so long ago who cursed the loyalty to the Starks shown by a girl no older than ten. A girl who, if I am not mistaken, was the first to address me by my legitimized name,” he said while raising his eyebrows in question.

Lyanna nodded sheepishly as a strong blush crept up her neck.

“Very well. Then I, Jon Stark, King in the North and the Gift, Warden of the Green Fork and Lord of Winterfell declare that, her sisters having laid aside their claims, the brave and true Lyanna Mormont and her children and heirs shall henceforth hold the lands, castles, and titles pertaining to the lordship of Bear Island.”

Lyanna ran out of the room after muttering a quick, “Thank you, Your Grace.” Jon could not believe how easy it was to botch this whole king business.

Val met him in his solar after he finished reviewing the morning’s business with Sam. His oldest friend refused to discuss why he had been absent, and would make awkward attempts to change the subject whenever he brought it up. Val set to answering his questions as soon as she entered the room.

“I had some bleeding last night,” she whispered to him once they were embraced. “Not much, mind you, but it did scare me. I discussed the matter with your fat maester friend, and after an exam he assured me that our child is fine.”

“Oh, Val. Thank the gods,” Jon replied into her hair. The thought that they might lose their child felt like ice sinking in his chest.

“He scolded me, though. Apparently we are too vigorous in our love making,” Val said with glints of humor sparkling in her blue-grey eyes and her eyebrows raised high in a knowing, if incredulous expression. “It seems your cock is as large as Tormund wishes his were, which is altogether too large for us to continue being intimate until this child is born.” She spoke this news with a bitter laugh, both happy and disappointed all at once.

Jon felt flattered, if a bit remorseful. Being with Val intimately was usually the highlight of his day, but he would never do something to endanger their child. He told her such. “I fear to imagine how Sam must have delivered that news.”

“Badly, if you must know. Not to mention that the entire time he examined under my skirts, he seemed to think I was going to gut him.”

“To be fair, my love, you might have. Most ladies don’t carry a knife at their hip,” Jon replied, feeling some sympathy for his friend after all.

“Only because they don’t know how to use one. I have been trying to make it fashionable for women to carry weapons themselves, which might actually happen now that ladies are visiting our court. I’ve been teaching Alys how to protect herself, but Lyanna seems to need no such effort.” Val’s eyes widened as she was struck by a thought. “Which reminds me, Alys told me how much of a fool you acted today in court with the lady. Honestly, sometimes I believe all men know nothing.”

“I did not mean to embarrass the poor girl so badly. I have no idea what overcame Ghost when he did that,” Jon retorted, causing Val to huff in exasperation.

“You honestly have no clue, do you? That is not the worst of it, you ignorant kneeler.” Val crossed her arms under her swollen bosom. “You made the hapless lass fall in love with you.”

Jon stared back at her blankly. His mouth only fell open a little in his disbelief. “You cannot be serious. I had a conversation with her in front of near a hundred people. There is no way that could make her fall in love with me.”

“Oh, not the kind of love we share. It is surely more lust than anything,” Val countered, dismissing his argument with a wave of nonchalance. “You have never been a maiden newly flowered, Jon Stark, but surely you remember your first thoughts of pretty girls. It can’t be that different.”

Jon did remember, and became steadily more horrified. “I praised her for being the first to declare me king, and lauded her courage in front of all of my court. And that after Ghost licked her full on the face.” Jon sat back in his chair and placed his face in both hands. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

Val gave him an affectionate look. “Yes, but you are my idiot. The solution to fixing this is simple, at least.”

Jon at least anticipated her solution this time, and in a way it did make sense. Allow the girl to slake her lust for him, to get him out of her system and move on. This insight allowed him to argue against her conclusion before it was even stated. “Val, Ghost only just now noticed that Alys is pregnant. I have already felt guilty for lying with her, despite the fact that it was your idea. I wish to share no bed but your own.”

“Unfortunately for the both of us, you cannot share my bed again for many moons. I want you to stay with me for our whole lives, but I also know that no man will go that many moons without a cunt. If you cannot use mine, you will find someone else’s. Better it be girls I direct you to, that I can trust, than some girl trying to steal you away or get a bastard from you.” Val said it all as though it were as reasonable as sums or letters.

Jon wanted to tell her that he could go without sex for many moons. He had gone without it for the first fifteen years of his life, and again for over a year after Ygritte died. But at the same time, he could not deny a primal part of him that wanted to fuck a comely girl, if given the chance. It was always there in the back of his mind, taunting him and interrupting his thoughts before he could suppress it again.

“I do not like this idea, Val. If you give me that much leeway, I might take matters farther than you like. I do not wish to upset you,” Jon told her.

“Of course you do not. And I am telling you that you won’t. If you are insistent about limits, then we shall set some. How many girls have you ever fucked, Jon Stark?”

Jon did not expect that question, but the answer was simple enough. “Three. Ygritte, you, and Alys.”

Val’s expression showed mild amusement. “That’s it? You poor man. We shall impose this limit, then: you may only take as many lovers as I have had myself. You should have room for…” Val made an exaggerated counting motion on her fingers. “Six more, bringing your total to nine.”

Jon tried to keep a neutral expression. Ygritte had claimed many more lovers than that, but Jon could not help but feel somewhat inadequate when he realized how much more experienced his wife was in these matters than he.

She continued, “And no bastards, for your own sake, but should one of your ladies ask a child of you for her line as Alys did, I will not begrudge it of her so long as she keeps the paternity to herself. We have too many ladies and not enough lords for every lady to get a good marriage, and you refuse to allow the Free Folk to steal them the old fashioned way.”

“… I don’t necessarily like the idea, but if this is what my Queen wants, then I am not one to object,” Jon tried to reply as safely as possible.

“It is what I want. Maybe you’ll get better at it and finally give me a better fucking than Jarl.”

Val always brought up Jarl, at first when he failed to make her come but more recently as a jest. Jon tried not to show how much it bothered him, but he suspected that Val could read him like a book.

Val sighed after a moment without a response. “While I cannot give myself to you, if a girl wants you, Jon, then take her. But let her know that it will only be during this trying time for us, and if she tries to steal you remind her that you are mine.”

“If that is what you wish, my lady,” Jon said still feeling profoundly uncomfortable with the whole situation. “I just can’t help but think that –”

“Others take you, Jon Stark, fuck the girl!” Val shouted at him.

He was not expecting that. Jon gave her his best incredulous look.

Val made a keening noise before breaking. “The last few moons, hearing you fucking Alys…. Even if she makes little noise of her own, the sounds you make while you dominate another woman … I cannot say it leaves me unaffected. I know that you are mine, and that they only receive pleasure from you by my good graces, and when you take me afterward it feels so good. If I cannot have you for half a year, at least let me experience this pleasure when we resume. It is truly what I want. So, Jon Stark, when I tell you to fuck another woman, you will fuck her as well as you possibly can, and then come back to me and give it to me even better.”

They stared at each other for a long moment, and then they were kissing. Jon knew he did not deserve this woman, but he vowed to do everything he could to keep her happy. Even if it meant fucking other women.

Jon did not have to wait long. Not too long after the midday meal, Lyanna joined him in his solar as he was drafting letters.

“I hope I am not interrupting anything important, Your Grace,” she said after taking a seat to the side of his desk.

“Not at all, my lady. In fact, I was hoping to speak with you so that I might apologize for earlier…”

Lyanna interrupted his half-finished apology. “It is just, I realized that the great white wolf was yours when he sat next to you, and all that that meant hit me at once. The implications were embarrassing, and I’m not as experienced in these things as my sisters.”

“Ghost is indeed mine, an albino direwolf. I raised him from when he was a pup after finding his mother dead,” Jon clarified. “He has been my loyal companion ever since then.”

“I think we both know that he is more than that, Your Grace. I saw him last night, with that elk,” Lyanna left unspoken what she meant. She knows I am a warg. What most call a monster. She knew something that many might whisper about but none dare accuse of him. While the Free Folk might understand, many of his other lords would not. If his true relationship with Ghost became known it would be nothing short of disaster.

“Whatever do you mean, my lady?” Jon asked, trying his best to project an air of nonchalance and confusion.

“I saw, of course. I saw you through Gwyn,” Lyanna stated with a retaliatory tone. She was clearly not impressed with his deflection, and now she looked a little miffed.

“Gwyn.” The bear. She is the one who skinchanged into that she-bear. In hindsight, it was painfully obvious. “I had heard from Alysane that the Mormont women were skinchangers, although she always spoke as though it were a joke.”

“Mother told us never to talk of it outside the family. Alysane just likes to live dangerously,” Lyanna confided. “But when I met Ghost in the woods, I knew that another skinchanger was nearby. I had obviously heard that your wolf was white, but I failed to make the connection until the audience, and, well…” she trailed off as blush crept back up her neck and face.

“You are the first skinchanger I have met, outside of our family, you know. There’s actually a tradition among Mormont women going back for many generations. You have heard that we rarely marry into other noble houses?” Lyanna’s thumbs twiddled in her lap as she spoke.

“Honestly, my lady, that was not something Maester Luwin discussed during my education, nor something your lord uncle confided in me in my service to the Night’s Watch,” was Jon’s earnest reply.

Lyanna took it upon herself to explain things to him. “Skinchanging is a rare trait. Our childhood stories told us of the Starks of old, who united the North through conquest not just for the land, but to marry other houses known for skinchanging in order to hoard that ability for themselves. It has been more difficult for House Mormont to sustain our abilities. There are no more Warg Kings to conquer and marry, and Bear Island is small and out of the way, besides. So, we send our bears across the Bay of Ice when it freezes over each winter and wander until we find a skinchanger among the wildlings. And, well, they become the fathers to the cousins and nieces of the primary branch of our House.”

Jon tried to follow along as best he could. Living amongst the Free Folk had taught him to never judge another’s culture just because it was different from one’s own. It seemed that the traditions in House Mormont were quite different from most other northerners, only they were very good at hiding it.

Jon decided the best way to show interest rather than judgement was with a question. “You said nieces, but not nephews. What happens to the boys born in this way?” Jon suppressed a shudder as he thought of Craster’s sons.

“We made a deal centuries ago with the clans of the Frozen Shore that the girls would belong to us, while the boys would be raised amongst their father’s folk. I probably have brothers that I will never know. Mother was always quiet when we asked,” Lyanna explained.

“But Alysane has a son that was raised on Bear Island, does she not?”

“That was a special case. By the time Torrhen was born, the clans had all left. We did not know why at the time, but clearly they had left to join Mance Rayder’s army.”

The pieces slid together like a perfect palisade in Jon’s mind. “She found Toregg in the woods of the Frozen Shore. Toregg is a skinchanger as well, that’s why she agreed to marry him so quickly and why he agreed to legitimize her children as his own.” Jon could not believe he had missed that insight when he signed those decrees. “Jorelle and Lyra are both now married to families that were skinchanger petty-kings in the old tales, the Reeds and the Blackwoods. Perhaps they are skin changers still.”

“Yes, you understand!” Lyanna said, beaming.

“But what creature would Toregg skin-change into? If it is hereditary as you say, Tormund is more likely than not a skinchanger as well, and I cannot see him not bragging about something like that,” Jon continued.

“Oh, umm, I think Alysane said it was a squirrel? She was disappointed at first, but she liked him much better once they met in person.” That would make sense. Tormund would never brag about skin-changing into a squirrel, no matter how large its member.

Jon pondered on the strangeness of wandering out to meet someone you otherwise knew only through the eyes of an animal to immediately procreate with them. A thought flashed through his head, and his eyes snapped to Lyanna. She sat on the side of his desk, still beaming at him. She was no longer blushing, but her cheeks were still a pleasant rosy shade. Her bear-skin cloak had been from the morning was discarded, exposing her pale shoulders.

“Lyanna, did you say that I am the first man you have met through Gwyn?” Jon asked with trepidation.

The smile on her young face broadened further. Her pupils were dilated in what Jon now recognized was clearly lust.

“Yes,” she said.

Jon knew he should explain everything now. The situation he was in, the rules he had to live by and that would govern whatever relationship they might have. Jon also wanted to feel his hands on her nubile body, and this desire won out.

Jon was not sure if he pulled her into his lap or if she leapt there herself. Jon ran his hands down her sides to her flared hips as she pulled his lower lip into her mouth. Although seven years his junior, her figure certainly felt womanly. While her face was too rounded to be truly comely, the color in her cheeks and the enthusiasm with which she kissed him was more than enough to trigger his arousal.

Lyanna growled into his mouth when a hand slid under her gown to grasp her small breast, large nipples already peaked and wanting. Jon obliged by pulling down her bodice and lathing the closest one with his tongue.

“Just like Ghost did to my face this morning…. Were you claiming me then as well, Your Grace?” The timbre of her voice made it clear that the thought was beyond exciting to her. “And in front of your whole court … OH! Yes!”

Jon had not been doing anything of the sort, but with her reactions at the moment he could certainly pretend. He gave a grunt in the affirmative. Rubbing her cunt through her skirts seemed to get nice reactions as well.

“Oh please, Jon, I’ve never felt something so good before!” she squealed.

He continued as he was doing, alternately smothering her nipples and wide areolae with his mouth and hand while his other hand grinded on her crotch. Lyanna made grabbing motions towards his cock, but it was positioned firmly on the underside of her thigh and was inaccessible for the moment.

“There will be time for that later, my lady. Right now, I am claiming you,” he uttered into her breast. His left hand left her other fleshy mound and pressed over the flat of her belly, pulling her further into his grasp.

“Oh gods, yes. Yes, claim me for your own. My king!” she cried back.

“You will have to be more quiet, my sweet Lyanna, lest someone overhear us. We are not in the woods seen only by the gods.” Jon mitigated his chiding by sliding his right hand underneath her gown and shift and pressing it against her mound. She wore no smallclothes, a discovery which made him groan in approval. She possessed only slightly more hair than Val between her thighs. “You were expecting this, weren’t you? You wanted your king to take you right here, over his desk.”

“Nnngh-hee!” she squealed. “Yes! I want it so badly!”

She was certainly hot and wet under his fingers. He slid his middle finger between her slick walls and tried adding another, surprised at how tight she felt. He rubbed circles over her nub with the pad of his thumb, lubricated by her own moisture, and began to slowly pump his fingers in and out of her. He curled his fingers towards himself and began the forward-and-backward motion that Val had taught him. Lyanna tried her best to remain quiet, but eventually had to settle for biting down on Jon’s collar bone to conceal her moan as she came apart in his hands.

Jon parted from her delicate breasts and pulled her into a kiss, holding her face as her whole body continued to shake from the squelching fondles of his fingers inside of her. The wetness now covered his hand, her thighs, and the dress still underneath her legs. He thought it might have even soaked through his breeches in one part on his leg.

After a few moments, the shaking had stopped but his hand continued its ministrations. She pulled away from his mouth with a plea on her pouty lips.

“Please, Jon, Your Grace, please do it now. Please.” Her eyes were wild and desperate, as innocent and beautiful as a doe but as fierce and demanding as the bear of her sigil.

Jon chose respond not with words, but deeds. He stood up from his chair and pushed her down against his desk. With her bent over at the waist, he picked up her skirts and lifted them above her waist before rucking them underneath her wide hips as best he could. He ground his still-covered cock betwixt her arse cheeks as he worked on his laces. Lyanna certainly did not seem to mind.

She gave another yelp when he pressed his pulsing and now-bare member in the same spot, already able to feel the moisture from before lubricating the base of it where it smeared her opening.

Lyanna began to back her hips against him, sliding his cock between her surprisingly thick cheeks and up against his stomach, rolling back his foreskin in the process. “Put it inside me! Take me!”

“I’ll take you when I please, Lyanna. And no sooner,” Jon replied. The wide hips and plump arse rubbing against him was incredibly stimulating. He could feel her arsehole pucker each time the head of his prick passed over it. Jon wandered what it would feel like in there … but now was not the time for such things. Lyanna had been patient enough, and it was now time to reward her.

Jon pulled his hips back and aligned his cock at her entrance. The leaking tip of his cock met her absolutely drenched nether-lips and he pushed forward – only to slide down the outside of her slit, missing the hole.

Lyanna mewled from the motion and squeezed her wet thighs together. This had the unintentional effect of placing Jon’s cock in a warm, wet, tight cavity that pressed him up against her clit. At this point he wanted to get to into her cunt terribly, but the current position was too sweet not to spend a few strokes titillating.

After some rough humping in this position, Lyanna pulled one of his hands from its spot above her hip and pulled the two fingers that had recently been inside of her into her mouth. Her body was once again racked in the throes of orgasm, his fingers the only barrier between her screams and inevitable discovery. The prospect only seemed to make his cock harder.

Feeling fit to burst, Jon tried once again to penetrate her beautiful cunt. Using a hand this time for guidance, he held the tip firmly against her weeping opening and forced his cockhead inside.

“AH! OWW! MMMmmgh!” Lyanna cried out. Jon stopped, for her cries no longer sounded lustful so much as painful.

“Lyanna, are you alright?” he asked as he rubbed her tailbone with the base of his palm in what he hoped was a comforting motion.

“It’s no worse than what I was told to expect when my maidenhead got taken. Stay still for a moment, and I shall be fine,” was her curt response. She sounded extremely uncomfortable.

Jon had never dealt with this reaction before. He looked down and saw tiny streams of blood running down his cock, still half-impaled within her body. Jon realized that of all the women he had been with, this was his first time experiencing a maiden’s blood. He almost believed it was nothing but a myth to allow men to back out of unwanted marriages if the wedding night did not go well, but the drops sliding down his balls and dripping into the rushes showed the truth of things quite clearly.

As much as he wanted to comfort her and let the pain subside, the incredible pressure her cunt was giving his cock was too much to ignore. Without question, Lyanna Mormont was the tightest girl he had ever fucked. Even Val’s muscular cunt did not grip him as deeply as Lyanna. He started to withdraw, ever so slowly.

Lyanna grunted in response, not quite in pleasure but certainly not in pain either. Jon pushed back in to her still dank cunt and let out his own moan of approval. Eventually he was bottomed out within her depths, his cock pushing snugly against her inner walls.

“I feel so full. It’s incredible, Jon. Is it like this every time?” she asked, her eyes staring unfocused at an unlit candle on his desk.

“It can be, with the right person,” he told her as he began to move more quickly. “It can be even better, as well. Let me show you.” With that, he began to thrust into her in earnest. He was not as rough as he would have been with Val, but Lyanna clearly did not need the same tenderness he shared with Alys. He settled for a middle ground, a driving rhythm that made his desk squeak with the force of it but had her squeaking for other reasons entirely.

Lyanna, having already orgasmed twice but dealing with the trauma of having her maidenhead broken, was enjoying herself thoroughly but seemed unlikely to finish again. Jon did not hold back when his end came upon him.

Jon pushed as deeply as he could into her cunt before letting lose a hot rope of semen. Between each pulse we would pull out slightly, so that he could feel the pleasure of diving back into her each time a spurt escaped. Eventually he was spent, and he collapsed back into his chair, pulling her with him.

Lyanna sat in his lap, his cock still inside of her and their combined blood and semen dripping from where they were connected onto his chair and the floors. She still trembled like a newborn foal, and if pressed Jon would have bet against her ability to walk at the moment.

“That was absolutely wonderful, Your Grace,” she whispered quietly once she could turn her head to look at him. “I wish I could live here in Winterfell with you, if it meant we could share that every day.”

She gave him a cute smile. “Unfortunately, Bear Island will not rule itself … although, I might not be alone there for too much longer now,” she said while rubbing her tummy.

Jon raised an eyebrow at her. “How could you be sure so quickly?”

“I’m hardly sure. But Gwyn can tell by my scent which days I am at my most fertile. Today is one of those days. If the old gods have smiled on us, I might deliver a new Mormont into this world before the year is out.”

Jon worried at the thought of a girl as young as her carrying a child to term, but he knew that her sister Alysane had done it safely at a year younger. Lyanna’s hips certainly looked wide enough to bear a child without much worry.

“You must understand, Lyanna, no one must ever know who fathered this child. My lady wife is pregnant with my heir, and I will allow no one to take that title from my trueborn child,” he implored her to understand.

“Worry not, Your Grace,” Lyanna said, still somewhat out of breath. Her eyes crinkled happily. “This child was fathered by a bear in the woods.”
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Seeds of the Northern Kingdom