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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: 99145 -:- 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
- 4
- 5
- 6
Once Val met Meera, the two became fast friends. Val referred to her as a ‘southron spearwife’ and was impressed by her knowledge of the old ways. It was with heavy hearts that Jon and Val said farewell to the crannogwoman, who eventually needed to return to her family home at Greywater Watch.

Before she said her farewells, however, Meera pulled Jon aside one day in his solar. She spoke of a hidden package that needed to be delivered to him with both urgency and discretion.

“I brought it as far as the Gift, but I would not have been able to keep it concealed in more populous lands. It is a gift to you, King Jon, from a … relative, of yours. I have hidden it in Queenscrown, under a false stone in the high chambers. Send only men you trust to retrieve it, and do not draw attention to it until you have examined it yourself,” she had said in a whisper.

“Can you not tell me what it is?” Jon asked. It sounded like a perfectly reasonable request.

“If it is not returned to you, it is best that you have no knowledge of it at all,” Meera said. “I would not lie to you in this, Your Grace.”

Despite his misgivings, Jon trusted Meera, perhaps more than he should. After all that she had told him, the stories of their parents and the true identity of his mother, Jon might have believed anything she said.

A day after her departure, Jon pulled Grenn and Pyp aside from their guard duties. Despite their simple upbringings and poor horsemanship, they were Jon’s eldest surviving friends, and he knew he could trust them more than any other candidates for such a quest. They were sent out walking with a mule up the kingsroad to retrieve whatever mysterious object Meera had waiting for him, with strict orders not to open its packaging or divulge their purpose to anyone while on the road. It would take them at least two months without proper mounts, even with a mule to carry their kit, but Jon would not trust any others as he trusted them.

With that business taken care of, life returned to relative normalcy at Winterfell. A new kennelmaster was found from among the smallfolk, as well as a master of horse. Jon received a message from Larence Hornwood, now gaining the confidence of his sworn men, requesting Jon’s approval of a match between him and Lady Eddara Tallhart, the Master of Torrhen’s Square. Jon was inclined to deny the request, knowing that a new Master for that seat would have to be found, but he was eventually swayed by a letter from the lady in question pleading to be away from her childhood home. She wrote of the terrors she endured listening to the ironborn occupiers rape her mother, repeatedly, in the room next to hers before killing her as the men lead by Robett Glover came to lift the occupation. Apparently Larence, who had been fighting with the Glover men, had been the one to comfort her in the gruesome aftermath, and they had stayed in close contact ever since.

Jon decided to invite both of their families to the castle to settle the issue. While still largely strangers to one another, Larence and Eddara had enjoyed the words shared between them by raven and quickly warmed to each other’s company. If Jon truly wanted to stop the marriage, he might not have been able to after only a few days as their hosts. Eventually it was agreed upon that Eddara’s cousin Brandon would succeed her upon her cloak changing colors, which Jon allowed in no small part because of the sacrifice made by his younger brother Beren Tallhart during the Battle of the Crypts.

With all parties satisfied, a wedding was planned for the next moon to be held in Winterfell’s godswood, the first of spring. The Glover family visited shortly for the wedding, Robett and Larence having been raised together and good friends besides. Val doted on Gawen and Erena Glover, small children of six years and four respectively, which surprised Jon nearly as much as it warmed his heart. Kyle and Jonelle Condon came as well, but most other lords were too far away to arrive by the scheduled date.

The castle was not completely repaired, with black markings covering some walls showing signs of the fire and stones still displaced from the sack, but Winterfell certainly looked to be recovering, something Jon was happy to show his sworn lords. His only embarrassment was the state of the glass gardens, which Lady Conden lamented as she passed by on her way out of the godswood. Apparently they had made quite the impression on her before the war, in her frequent visits to Winterfell as the daughter of Eddard Stark’s closest bannerman.

That led Jon to place a large order for glass panes that would fit the iron frame of the glass gardens from a glassmaker in White Harbor. The confirmation of the order was received along with another letter, this one from Wynafryd Manderly requesting Winterfell’s hospitality for her and her sister.

When Jon told Val of their upcoming guests her response was enthusiastic. The swell of their child in her belly prevented them from pleasing each other simultaneously now, but Val made it clear that should one of the Manderly sisters proposition him, he had encouragement to follow through, so long as she was actually able to listen this time.

Jon was not nearly so optimistic, but he assured her that her request would be given consideration, especially in light of the prophecy delivered by Meera.

Two sennights later, the Manderly women had reached Castle Cerwyn by barge up the White Knife and were en route by caravan up the King’s Road. Having been notified in time to prepare, Jon and his household met them in the courtyard upon their arrival.

Wynafryd Manderly, the heiress to White Harbor, was a classic beauty full in the bloom of womanhood at two-and-twenty years of age. Her long brown hair was drawn into a braid over one shoulder, laid across her blue-green linen dress thus drawing attention to her tremendous bust. Even Val’s pregnancy swollen breasts could not compare to their size, despite the lady’s obvious attempt at conservative clothing.

Her sister Wylla followed her out of the wheelhouse, her hair immediately drawing attention with its shocking green color. The woman had a shapely face with light blonde eyebrows indicating her true coloring, lighter than her sister, as well as taller and overall more lithe of form, though her breasts were still far larger than average. Her sea-green dress matched her hair.

Jon could say with certainty he was glad they did not resemble their late lord grandfather overmuch.

“The ladies Manderly, be welcomed to Winterfell!” Jon said as they approached. Having seen a recent increase of traffic in the castle with the progression of spring, he was finally beginning to feel more comfortable with these proceedings.

“The honor is ours, Your Grace,” answered the younger sister Wylla, to Jon’s surprise. “House Manderly will be forever grateful to House Stark. Thank you for so graciously accepting our visit.”

Wynafryd made formal introductions for the two of them, introducing them to Val in particular.

“We have heard much of King Jon’s wife of the Free Folk in White Harbor. Should you ever wish to visit the largest city in the kingdom, we would be happy to host you there, Your Grace,” Wynafryd said directly to her.

The effort seemed to please Val for its directness, more than anything.

Neither of the ladies cowered away when Ghost meandered up to the occasion, mouth still bloody from a fresh kill, and Wylla even scratched him behind the ears. Jon considered this a good sign.

Following their official welcome, the sisters left for a respite with Alys Thenn and the Queen, congratulating them both on their swollen bellies.

Jon went elsewhere with Othell Yarwyck to oversee the unloading and installation of the expensive glass that would hopefully keep the castle fed, come next winter.

That evening after dinner, the noble guests retired to the queen’s solar for conversation. The Manderly girls had met Alys as children, all being from noble houses in the North and of similar age. Jon had met the two of them briefly, once, but was kept from interacting with them much due to his bastardry.

They were pleasant to talk to though, and made no issue of Jon’s legitimization or Val’s own culture. Wylla even asked about the dagger at Val’s hip, and was rewarded with an offer for a custom-made one of her own.

Before long, they had dropped the ‘my ladies’ and ‘Your Graces’ and were speaking as old friends. The mulled wine likely had something to do with it, but Jon was enjoying himself and did not mind. It still felt odd for him to be addressed as ‘Your Grace’, although slipping out of his manners altogether was against his nature.

Occasionally though, the group turned to serious topics of conversation.

“When I first met your lord grandfather at Winterfell, after we retook it, he told me that my younger … brother, Rickon, might yet live,” Jon inquired of the Manderly sisters. “However, he would not elaborate on his plans, and by the time I returned from the Twins he was dead. Lord Wylis knew not of his plans when I asked him by letter, but perhaps you two might know of it?”

“Grandfather never told me anything. He had plans within plans, or so I hear, but I was never his favorite,” Wylla said with a pouty expression and her blonde eyebrows knit together. The glare she shot at her sister only intensified at Wynafryd’s response.

“Well, actually, um, Your Grace….” Wynafryd stuttered as a blush came over her cheeks. “We captured a mute along the coast, sometime after Winterfell was sacked. He could not read or write, but he could draw, and was obviously trying to tell us something. His drawings were awful, though, and we had to teach him letters before we got anything useful out of him.”

“We learned that his name was Wex,” she continued, “and that he had been a squire for Theon Greyjoy at Winterfell. He told us about how Theon killed two miller’s boys because he could not find the Starks after they escaped, and how later he saw them come out of hiding in the crypts. He followed the small one all the way to the sea and overheard the boy’s keeper, a wildling woman – I’m sorry, Val, that is what he said – saying that she would take him to Skagos.”

“Skagos!” Jon shouted, louder than he meant to. It certainly made sense. Ghost occasionally thought of his wild brother, off somewhere that smelt of salt and hunting strange goats with one sharp horn. Unicorns, I suppose. “Why was this not told to me sooner?”

Wynafryd became even more flustered. “Well, you see….” She took a calming breath and began again. “The shores of Skagos are treacherous even in good weather, and almost impossible to navigate during winter storms. White Harbor had ships and captains aplenty, but we could not trust some merchant to find our king’s heir and return him to safety, not after the betrayal by the Boltons and Freys. There was too much of a risk of Rickon being handed over to the Boltons or the Lannisters, or worse.”

“I can think of little worse than being given to Lannisters, Wynafryd. But please, continue.”

“So, by this point some of those seven-damned Freys had come to us, making all kinds of demands.” The mention of these Freys in particular seemed to give Wynafryd the desire to hurl. “Grandfather pandered to them, because if he did not then the Lannisters would have killed father rather than return him, no matter how much gold we offered. So when Davos Seaworth, the Onion Knight that Stannis named his Hand showed up, grandfather decided to hedge his bets. He faked an execution to show the Lannisters his good faith, and father was returned to us. But really, knowing Davos Seaworth to have been a smuggler most of his life, he sent Lord Seaworth to Skagos to seek Rickon, on the condition that should he be returned alive and with his wolf, White Harbor would declare for Stannis.”

At this, Wylla interjected, “Wait, Lord Seaworth is alive!? And you did not tell me!”

She stood up so fast her chair fell back away from her and screamed at her sister. “We have been free of our captors for years now, and you did not think to tell me that the bravest man I have ever met still lives!”

Wynafryd tried to appease her irate sister. “It was not like that, Wylla! We never saw him again. He could have fled back south, for all I know, or his had his ship broken against the rocks of Skagos! And after the mountain clansmen crowned Jon King in the North, we might have become usurpers if we –”

The woman threw her hand over her mouth, terrified of what she had just said. Her wide eyes scanned the room, judging the reactions of Jon and Val in particular. All were silent, even the still seething Wylla, who now looked frightened as the implications of what her sister had admitted to dawned on her.

Jon did not know what to think of her admission. I suppose I cannot blame them. If Rickon were found, Robb’s will would have left the kingdom to him rather than me. I would gladly step aside for my little brother … but they have no way of knowing that. And they had no right not to tell me.

“This is the true reason why I was never told, then,” Jon said as calmly as he could manage. “You feared my wrath should I hear you have been searching for my brother, who has a better claim.”

Jon let his words sink in as Wynafryd’s face became remorseful and Wylla’s returned to ire, seemingly still directed at her sibling.

“While I understand your caution, Wynafryd, I loved all of my siblings dearly, and would never harm anyone who wished to reunite us again. My crown and kingdom can go to the Others for all I care, if I could only have my family back!”

Jon could not remember when he had started shouting, or when he had stood, but he did notice when Val comforted him with an embrace from his side. His scarred palm clenched and unclenched into a fist. “I know that you had the best intentions, but I wish for any further developments to be relayed to me immediately, should Rickon be found. Is that clear, my ladies Manderly?”

With that, the group retired early for the night.

The next day was little better, with the Manderly sisters sitting at opposite ends of the table from each other at meals, and refusing to be a part of the same conversations. Jon felt awful for his part in all of it, but could not decide on the best way to make amends.

Val suggested the sisters be given spears and told to work out their differences, although Jon suspected that this was in jest. Alys, having grown up with only brothers, recommended tourney swords instead.

That night, Jon and Val retired to the queen’s solar alone. Jon reminisced about the day before, chastising himself for losing his temper. Iron Emmett had beaten the snot out of him today, making him both frustrated at himself and terribly sore.

It came as a surprise to both of them when Wynafryd Manderly entered their chambers after a bashful knock. Her gown tonight was violet silk, and her hair was pulled up in a style that was elaborate for a Northman but would still be simple by southron standards.

“I wish to apologize, Your Graces. I have reflected on my actions, and see now how they were wrong,” she said as she looked up at Jon. “My father Lord Wylis knew not of these plans, for grandfather involved few in his plotting. But I did know of it, all of it, and I should not have feared to let you know.” Tears formed in her soft blue eyes. “I remember seeing you play with your other brother, Brandon, out the window as Wylla and I were kept sewing with the Septa and your sisters. You involved him even when Robb and that awful Greyjoy boy wanted to leave him behind. You are a true and loving brother, and I should have remembered that.”

“Yes, you should have,” Jon said. “But I also had no right to lose my temper last night. I must needs apologize as well. After all, you have put me closer to finding Rickon than any other yet has. I know you will continue to seek him out, and surely you deserve a boon for your leal service. Tell me, my lady, what might you ask of me?”

“I-I ask nothing from you, Your Grace –” Wynafryd said before Val cut her off.

“While we have enjoyed the pleasure of your company, I am not so naïve as to think that kneelers make such long visits without purpose. In the true north, we would only travel so far to make war or steal mates,” Val said as though she were discussing a minor bit of trivia, and not accusing a highborn lady of being either a traitor or wanton.

“… Very well, I suppose it is something like that.” Wynafryd went on to explain her situation, once she was seated with a glass of mulled wine in hand. “My father’s imprisonment has left him sickly. He is still sharp of mind, but his hands now shake, making it hard for him to ride his horse or wield a sword and impossible for him to write. I have been assuming a more active role in the governance of our lands, which has brought certain issues to a peak.”

“I had no idea Wylis was affected so terribly. Will you need a stronger steward?” Jon asked, trying to be helpful.

“I’m afraid a steward would not truly fix the problem, your – Jon. You see, many of the knights Stannis left behind are now vying for my hand, and it is beginning to cause violence in the Merman’s Court.”

Jon could picture it all too well.

After the death of King Stannis, a thousand or so knights and men at arms from his southron army were stuck in the North. Jon allowed them to either return to their queen at Castle Black, or fall into service with him with the promise of free passage back south out of White Harbor, once Winterfell was seized from the Boltons.

Many of those men attempted to return to the Wall, loyal to the King’s heir Shireen. She had succumbed to greyscale by the time that group made it, and many of those men died of the plague. Those devoted to the red god, or the red priestess, stayed with Jon once Melisandre declared him the true Azor Ahai. Jon might have believed it to be rubbish, but they did not need to know that if it meant they would fight for him. Still others, with little hope of retaking their own lands, chose to swear their service to the King in the North to be awarded holdfasts of their own. The final few were those who accepted Jon’s offer and left for White Harbor once the battle was done.

Some of those men, mostly those faithful to the seven, decided to swear their service to Lord Manderly in order to settle his lands, feeling more comfortable with a lord who followed their own gods.

“And now, many southron knights, eager for a chance to improve their station and gain preference from their liege lord, now seek the hand of his eldest daughter and heir,” Jon said aloud. “Is that not the way of it, my lady?”

Wynafryd nodded. “I’m afraid so. They often try to be sweet in my presence, but I know they are coarse and rowdy otherwise, and have put bastards in a number of my serving girls. I also know that they want my huge tracks of land, and while I never expected a love match, I will not allow House Manderly to be extinguished by some upstart like Narbert Grandison of Old Castle.”

“What boon is it that you want from me, Wynafryd?” Jon asked.

“All I ask for is a guarantee that I shall be the master of my own lands. After all, Eddara Tallhart was a lady who was the Master of her house in her own right, and now I hear that her male cousin rules Torrhen’s Square in her stead, all for the sake of a marriage to a lord you have been working hard to support,” Wynafryd explained. “Even ignoring my troublesome southron suitors, there are many Manderly cousins within White Harbor that will press a claim once my father passes. I will not be married off to some other lord to appease Your Grace, only for a cousin to rule in my stead,” she finished with strength.

Val was the first to respond. “Jon Stark knows that women are just as capable as men of ruling lands and holdfasts. Eddara asked herself to be removed from that place, for her own reasons. He has granted Lyanna Mormont the lordship of Bear Island in perpetuity, and Alys Thenn will be allowed to rule Barrowton until her child comes of age, or longer if she so chooses. We of the Free Folk follow strength, and we know that strength exists in women as well as men.”

The blue flecks in Val’s grey eyes flashed in the fire light. “You are a strong woman, and more cunning than most, Wynafryd Manderly. As Val Stark, Queen in the North and the Gift, I confirm to you and your children the lordship of White Harbor and the lands around the White Knife, regardless of gender, so long as you and yours remain loyal retainers of House Stark.”

Wynafryd looked surprised at first, and then shot a confused look to Jon. “I am happy to hear this, Your Graces, but does King Jon Stark approve?”

Val laughed at the question, before replying herself. “If he wanted to say no, I shall change his mind. Women have ways to change the minds of men, Wynafryd,” Val said with a smirk.

The Manderly woman looked at her feet. “I’m sure not all men can be affected in this way, Your Grace…” She became quiet. “Although I suppose I shall have to settle for one, eventually. If my children are to inherit New Castle and White Harbor, a husband will be involved in one way or another.”

Val’s smile could have made a shadowcat feel like prey. “Perhaps there is yet more House Stark can do for you in this matter. Many suitors among the kneelers would be put off by a child in your belly, and even more should the king legitimize that child as your heir, correct?”

“I suppose so, and if the king were to grant me this I would be even more indebted to him,” Wynafryd whispered now, as though afraid she would be chastised for admitting to want such a thing. “But I know very few men I would trust to help me in such an endeavor.”

Val gave Jon a meaningful look. “Well, I am suddenly rather tired. I shall be in my bed chamber, if you two have any need of me.” With that said, she promptly got out of her chair and left, taking her wine with her and shutting the door behind her.

Wynafryd tilted her head in confusion at the closed door. It was an odd gesture to make, but it was strangely endearing to Jon, especially when a stray lock of hair fell across her cheek to hang by her long neck. Jon could feel his mouth water and his blood begin to rouse.

“That was rather strange, was it not?” she said, turning to face him.

“My wife provides you with an opportunity to answer a personal question in privacy. Wynafryd, would I be a man that you could … trust, with such a thing as we discussed earlier?” Jon felt the question poorly worded, but his heart hammering in his ears was quite distracting. Almost as much as the way the silk of her skirts shifted as she moved her legs.

“I – by the seven, are you offering yourself?” she asked in disbelief. “Now?”

“Only if you would have me, my lady,” Jon replied. “I would not force this on you, although should you decline you might very well disappoint the queen….”

Wynafryd’s eyes locked with his, their gentle blue hue filled with resolve. “Yes, I believe I can trust you, Jon.” She rose from her chair and sashayed toward him, her full hips swaying all the way. “House Manderly has known for generations that the Starks of Winterfell are our strongest champions, and will always nurture us in our times of greatest need.”

Wynafryd kneeled down before him, knees protected from the stone floors by a fur rug. “And in turn, we will always give our service to House Stark.” She slid her hands up the opposite arms to her neck, where she slipped dainty fingers under the shoulders of her silk gown and the shift underneath and began to slide them off. A cascade of violet fabric trickled across her chest, exposing the largest breasts Jon had ever seen bare. They were still supported by the laces in the back, which only enhanced their effect on Jon.

“I hope my body pleases you, King Jon,” she said as she simpered and began to undo the laces on his breeches. “The septas say it is sinful, and it certainly seems to entice my suitors.”

When the at last they were loosened, his cock sprang free, erect and incredibly stiff at the prospect of being inside a cunt once again. “Not that they have been able to experience it as you will now,” she amended.

Jon meant to reply with some witty remark, but all thought left him when she lowered her mouth over the head of his cock, her tongue pushing the foreskin clear of its head before taking him all the way down to the base. She gagged fleetingly before drawing back, leaving his spit-soaked member shining in the firelight. Jon brushed the stray lock of hair away from her face and smiled at her sweetly.

He was then amazed when she took her own breasts in hand and wrapped the huge mounds around his length. The slickness of her saliva, mixed with the natural lubrication leaking from his tip, allowed her to slide them up and down his length. They were soft and gave way easily to his rigid cock, but the constant sliding motion she provided was heavenly.

“Gods, Wynafryd – uggh, mmmmnn,” Jon struggled to express his pleasure.

“That’s it, my king. You may enjoy yourself. I am quite sure anyone who appears as … virile as you will be able to come again before too long.” Jon could only moan in assent.

One arm gripped on his chair for stability, Jon leaned forward slightly to run his other hand down Wynafryd’s back, finding the laces to her shift and beginning to undo them as deftly as he could, considering the situation.

For her part, Wynafryd shifted his cock away from her breast bone, now using the peaks of her bosom to massage his cock, rubbing her large pink nipples around its veiny exterior. The new position also allowed her to take his cockhead into her mouth once again on the down stroke of her breasts, where she would tease the opening at the very tip with her graceful tongue.

When the sensation became too much and Jon could feel his release approaching, he attempted to warn her, but this only lead to faster teasing until it all became too much. As he started spurting his seed within her mouth, she moved her lips to the ridge of his head and drew them back and forth in that sensitive area, her tongue continuing its exquisite caress.

“By the old gods! Fuck!” he shouted, completely unable to keep the vulgarity in check.

When Jon could next remember, he saw Wynafryd with his seed in hand, spitting it out of her mouth and wiping it among the rushes, her ample arse pointed straight at him. The sight went a long way to resuming the blood flow to his cock once again, but something about the situation bothered him.

“My lady, I have known other women before. What you just did … you could not have done that so expertly on your first attempt,” Jon said, remembering Meera’s clumsy motions in the godswood. Wynafryd’s head snapped around at that, eyes narrowing in accusation. Jon realized his error and tried to save himself, saying, “I am not one to judge, it was just an observation. It was delightful, and I am extremely grateful….”

Her expression deflated, but she walked away from him to sit on the furs in front of the burning hearth. Staring into the fire, she said, “To be truthful, I did that more for myself than you.”

Jon did not entirely understand her meaning, but she seemed to be in a commiserating sort of mood, so he joined her on the floor and put an arm about her bare shoulders. Her skin was creamy and soft, more so than any other woman he had felt, and he enjoyed grazing it in broad strokes across her back. Eventually, she spoke again.

“After the murder of uncle Wendel, Walder Frey sent three sons of his to White Harbor to return his bones. They came telling all sorts of lies, saying that King Robb had turned into a wolf-beast and murdered my uncle and many others at the wedding feast,” she told him darkly. Her creased brows glared hard into the fire. “They forced grandfather to house them and feed them, and he did whatever they might ask to prove loyal enough for the Lannisters to return my father. When they asked for betrothals to Wylla and I, he had no choice but to accept.”

Jon did not like where this was going, and so on impulse kissed her lightly on the temple. It seemed to sooth her some, although the darkness on her face remained. “My husband to be, Rhaegar Frey, was an absolutely disgusting man. He was already a widower with three children, and was fat and lecherous besides.”

Wynafryd’s head found its way onto Jon’s shoulder, and he did not reject her that comfort. “I knew of grandfather’s true loyalties, and helped him execute many of his plans. But when Rhaegar asked to sample my body, to ‘ensure its adequacy,’ there was little we could do to stop him. He forced me to do what I just did to you, saying it was ‘the only good use for tits as large as mine.’ Then he made me spread my legs for his skinny cock and nearly smothered me when he collapsed once he was done. The worst part was that I had to pretend I enjoyed it afterward, and come at his call whenever he bid, for the sake of my father’s life.”

“That is absolutely horrible, Wynafryd,” Jon said, unable to keep quiet any longer. “I know that the Freys sent to White Harbor were never found, but rest assured that should they turn up I will give him justice.”

“There is no need for that, Jon,” she said with a mischievous smirk. “When Rhaegar left New Castle, grandfather made him a pie. I am told it was quite delicious.”

Jon looked back at her blankly.

“I do not see how making someone a pie will bring a man to justice, my la–” Jon began.

“It is not important now, King Jon, but rest assured that justice was served and that I will not be troubled by the specter of Rhaegar Frey, or any of his brethren,” she interrupted. “I am told your sack of the Twins was most thorough.”

She smiled sweetly at him again; her eyes squinted in an endearing way.

“Regardless, I had the idea to do that to you to show myself that my body can be used to give good and kind men more pleasure than evil ones, a goal in which I think I was successful,” Wynafryd said with a grin. “By your reaction, you seemed to enjoy my ‘tits’ quite a lot.”

“It makes me want to enjoy the rest of you even more,” he said in response, and congratulated himself on a smooth transition. The arm around her back trailed along her far ear as his lips closed around the near one, allowing him to nibble softly at the unsuspecting cartilage there.

“Eep!” was Wynafryd’s succinct reply. She seemed to agree though, and began to attack his neck with her lips as her fingers worked to undo his doublet. They ended up standing again to disrobe each other, and Jon could not say he minded her huge bosom pressing against his naked chest as he finished off the laces of her shift and guided her silk dress to the floor with his hands across her shapely hips.

Wynafryd had plump arse cheeks to match her breasts, and although her stomach was doughy it was shapely and far from fat. Her thighs were wide and giving, but her lower legs and arms were thin and dainty. Her long neck and round face and eyes gave her an altogether beautiful appearance, especially framed as it was by her soft brown hair.

She seemed to enjoy gazing on his hard and muscular body as much as he enjoyed gazing at her.

“Could I be the one on top, Jon?” she asked, not at all shy as she stood gloriously nude before him. “Rhaegar was always the one in control, but I have heard that women of the Free Folk sometimes sit astride their men.”

Jon was very well acquainted with this process, and let her know. He lay down on the fur rug with the fire behind his head and guided her on top of him. The flickering light cast small, dancing shadows in the small folds made by the skin of her breasts and middle. That, and the sparkle reflected in her eyes as she gazed down at his form, completed the arousal Jon needed to move on to their coupling.

Wynafryd rose from her position and used her elegant hand to guide his cock to the now dripping entrance to her cunt. Once in position, she lowered herself down and Jon moaned as the wet lips engulfed his shaft.

He allowed her to set their rhythm however she wished, caressing her thighs and breasts and arse as it suited him but avoiding enough pressure to imply coercion. At times she would bounce up and down, while at others she would sink until he was hilted within her before grinding the apex of her cunt forward and backward along his pubic bone. Once, she even rotated her hips in a circle above his, causing them both to moan in delight.

Eventually though, she settled on leaning forward to kiss him while angling her hips at her lower back and pumping her arse straight up into the air, swallowing his cock whole with every descent accompanied by a smack as their flesh collided.

“Jon, yes, it feels so much better this way,” she uttered into his mouth, when her tongue was not invading it. “Your cock is so much better, no Frey cock could ever compare to yours!”

Jon’s erection struggled with mention of the Freys, but the plump hips and wet cunt writhing around it was more than enough for it to cope.

“I’ll take no moon tea this time, Jon. I’ll give my king a child of my body, something no southerner or landed knight deserves,” she said to him as her eyes squinted shut and her cunt clamped tight around him.

As she came, Jon could not help but to grab her hips to hold her steady, pumping his hips up against her until his release surged through him as well, which seemed to make her spasm all the more.

While basking in the daze of their post-coital bliss, Jon thought he might have heard a strangled cry from Val’s bed chambers, but he could not be sure.

“How long will you be visiting, my lady?” he asked once his breath had returned.

Wynafryd giggled on top of him. “I had thought perhaps a sennight, but I’m afraid our negotiations might take much longer now. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Very much so, Lady Manderly,” Jon said as he grabbed her arse cheeks and rolled them over so that he was now gazing down at her, breasts still heaving magnificently. His spent cock was already starting to harden again inside of her. The prophecy seemed to demand he ‘plant his seeds’ as wide as he could, and it usually took time to ensure pregnancy. Jon knew then that he would enjoy the coming sennights very much.
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Seeds of the Northern Kingdom