The Northern Tyrant [Game of Thrones] Chapter 34 - The Quake, Genna’s Wish & A Royal Headache (Patreon)

Doc - https://docs.google.com/document/d/1IfNjb8lEJaPG1bgRUFJHL7GzA9EhSeibPzDWGKfG5As/edit?usp=sharing

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"Aye, it looks deep. Don’t fret, boy. The river's tame this time of the year. We can cross it." Wylis encouraged Caliburn as his big horse gave him the bombastic side-eyes of 'are you sure?'.

But Wylis trusted Caliburn as much as Caliburn trusted Wylis. Both of them splashed into the Green Fork in the darkness of the night. Wylis kept the horse lead tied to his arm in case Caliburn struggled. But surprisingly, the four-legged boy was a natural champion. 

Both of them crossed the river, but they got swept a mile or two downstream. However, that was acceptable as they quickly headed upstream again by the banks. 

Very soon, the Twins came into view yet again, but this time from the other side. They entered a covering, under a few trees nearby. He ordered Caliburn to stay put and only react if he were to hear his whistle. 

After that, alone, Wylis walked towards the castle. His vision allowed him to see not just the castle clearly but also the water. It felt as if someone had increased gamma in his vision, allowing him to see things at night.

Classic arches. He observed the long bridge from there. 

Green Fork was a major and deep river, broad as well. It was one thing for Wylis and Caliburn to cross it at the peak of their physical might, another for traders and an army. The Frey Bridge was the only way. 

Not for long. 

Carefully, ensuring he had no reflecting thing on his body, he painted himself with mud. His face was quite pale, as was the case for most northerners, so he covered it. After that, he crouch-walked at the edge of the river and slipped underneath the bridge's flood arch. It was the smaller arch for flood situations. 

From there, he slipped further into the river, using Earthbending to make grips and steps for himself on the stones. He saw the first main arch and eyed the keystone above, the larger piece of stone that rested at the top-most part of the arch. Without it, the arch would lose its support. 

However, that wasn't Wylis' plan. No, if he just made the bridge fall, it would be rebuilt in a few years. No, he wanted to destroy the very foundation of every single pier on which those arches stood. He wanted to ruin the foundation so much that Walder Frey wouldn't even be able to dream of the bridge being raised again in his remaining lifetime. 

Fantastic engineering. 

Wylis used his Earthbending to sense the foundation. He was amazed by the engineering that went into the bridge. It was truly built to last. Sadly, it could only face natural disasters, not a manmade one. 

He first moved the foundation, ruining the timber piles on which the pier stood. There was clay, a lot of it. He wasn't so good at moving that, but good enough to make a mess. He destroyed the foundation so much that nobody would be able to say a bridge stood there. 

Then he hollowed out the pier. After that, like a Jenga block tower, he removed blocks from the pier. He had Civil Engineering mastery, and it wasn't hard to tell which part needed to be disturbed.  

One pier at a time, one foundation at a time. It was a rather long bridge, and it was boring work. But he did it just fine and reached all the way to the other side. 

Now comes the main part.

He gathered his breath, as this final stretch needed to be fast. He had to make his way back to the side he started. However, this time, he was going to violently remove the keystone of each arch and send a tremor through the structure with each of his movements. The bridge would fall like dominoes.

For one last time, he looked up at the mighty bridge. It was going to be a pain in the ass for traders to cross. A legacy that stood for six hundred years was going to fall. 

Crack!

He moved fast, leaping, dangling with his hands, using stones to not fall in the water. Each new arch, he violently destroyed the keystone. Then he kicked backwards to send a tremor. 

Splash!

He had no time to look. All he heard was a violent, splashing sound. 

Splash!

He kept moving, arch after arch, pier after pier. He sadly couldn't bring down the Water Tower that sat in the middle of the bridge. But still, he had ruined its foundation as it used the same principles as the bridge. 

Splash!

He crossed the halfway mark. By then, he could hear traces of bells ringing. But the river and splashes were too loud. Adrenaline ran through him, excitement, joy, and just cold hatred towards the filthy lord. He simply didn't like Walder Frey, and nothing would have changed that. The fucker barely helped during the Rebellion but was there when it came to reaping the rewards. 

Splash!

Finally, the last arch. He arrived back at the flood arch and didn't leave it either. Yet, he didn't look back. As soon as his feet were on hard, muddy ground, he ran towards Caliburn. 

####

Twins, 

"Ugh! Ugh! As I said… Let's give… Lord Kaiser, a pretty lass, eh?" Walder Frey, despite his age, was hard at work with his newest recreation, a fine young beauty he'd recently plucked from a vassal house. 

Grrrrrr!

"Huh?" 

But suddenly, Walder felt his entire bed shake. He lifted himself off the woman and looked around. The sound and the tremor were continuous. It echoed even, like the earth was moving. He heard all the silver cups and trinkets shake and clatter. The wood creaked. 

"Seven hells, a quake?"

Walder Frey got out of bed as fast as he could and threw his robes on. But right as he headed to the door, it was pushed open by a bunch of Frey guards, all looking pale and scared. Then came his steward, looking even more terrified. 

"M-M'lord! The bridge… has fallen!" 

Walder Frey couldn't make sense of those five words at first. They sounded so absurd and impossible. In what world could the mighty bridge of the Twins fall? They had seen floods, winters enough to shatter iron. A mere rumble of dirt fell it? That was impossible. 

"It's only a few blocks gone. I've seen it happen before. We'll patch it up and have it ready," Walder snarled, almost ready to head back to his room and pounce on the bed again. 

Yet, the soldiers and the stewards didn't move. 

"N-No, m'lord, the whole bridge is gone. From the roadway to the piers, it's all in ruins. We can’t reach the other shore."

Walder Frey momentarily froze, stared into the eyes of his steward. He knew the man enough; he never jested. He eyed the soldiers, and they looked down in fear. It couldn't be, it was impossible, he thought. 

"Move!" He walked past the men, showing strength beyond his years, shoving past them. He strode faster than he'd ever in years, up the stairs to a higher floor, and then past a few halls before arriving at a large balcony that looked at the river and…

Bells, men shouting, the air whistling. Walder Frey gazed down, and all he saw was water and some chunks of stone. He looked towards the other side, and he could swear the Water Tower looked slightly slanted in the middle of the river. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, one hand over his chest as he felt a deep burn there. He prayed to the Seven; he begged them to let this be a bad dream. But then he opened his eyes to look, and still, there was no bridge. 

"S-Seven… the bridge…" He stuttered, feet stepping back, the burn in the chest growing stronger. "I-It's… him… I know."

The last thing he remembered was falling backwards, his body limp. In his mind, however, five words echoed again and again. Five words that made him laugh before, and now…

They all fall the same. 

"It's him… him!" 

Before he could utter more, his vision darkened. 

####

Ting!

[Hidden Quest Completed - Unconjoined Twins
Description - One may insult the Tyrant, but one must also stand ready to face the disproportionate retribution.
Goal - Ruin House Frey
Reward - Sperm virility increased by two-fold]

"..."

Such a strange reward, yet it made so much sense considering whose House he just doomed to multi-decade poverty. Well, poverty in noble terms. Freys would still live better than smallfolk. 

Not a bad reward, actually. Lyanna would love it, hah!

"That was… spectacular." Wylis sat easy in the saddle, eyeing the wreckage of the bridge. “Not one stone left atop another. Old Walder always played the humble fool. High time he truly became one.”

Wasting no time, he steered Caliburn south along the river banks. He still had work left to do, as leaving the region without a bridge would hurt his own interests in the future. Of course, he wasn't going to make a bridge, nor was it always required to cross rivers. 

He made sure to get out of Frey territory first, and once he was in House Mallister's lands, he splashed into the river, barefoot, Caliburn's lead in his hand. He felt the riverbed, kicked at it a few times, and started raising it as he crossed.

Wylis was careful because just creating a ford wouldn't work in the long run, as the river's natural flow would sweep it away. So, he had to make an artificial ford that looked like a ford from the surface, but underwater, it had massive holes that allowed the river to pass through. Using some rocks to strengthen it, he was able to make a ford whose deepest part reached only to his calves, which was knee-height for most folks.  

"A few more to make."

In just one night, he not only ruined House Frey but also took away any possibility of regaining the old trade. As soon as traders and travelers learn about the fords, they'd use them. So, even if Walder made a wooden bridge like the one that existed long, long ago, nobody would use it. 

After making a total of four fords, spaced randomly, he crossed the river for the last time and started his ride up north on Kingsroad. He'd made all the fords in House Mallister's lands, and that meant House Frey wouldn't be able to capitalize on them. Of course, House Mallister was located on the western coast along Ironman's Bay, their lands still stretched all the way to touch the Green Fork River. 

"Neigh-ehehe!"

"Aye, I know you’re weary, my friend." He ran his fingers through Caliburn's mane. "We’ll rest soon enough, once we find Chett and the boys. They’ll have pitched a tent farther along the road."

Trotting, as if Caliburn understood his human's words, just neighed and kept going. Darkness didn't scare him.

####

Riverrun, 

"Surely this is a jest," Lord Hoster Tully muttered. He set the folded parchment on the table and looked at his brother in disbelief. "It claims the entire bridge of the Twins has fallen. There is nothing left. The tremor destroyed it."

"What tremor?" asked Brynden Tully. "I felt nothing."

“I find myself wondering the very same thing. Old Walder still hasn’t stirred from his bed, stunned witless by the sight of his precious bridge gone. His heir Stevron has been sending ravens to every corner of the realm, begging for gold and men to raise it again, but… well.” Lord Hoster folded his arms across his chest, a thin smirk tugging at his lips. 

“The Green Fork has ever been deep and wide, or so we all believed. Only yesterday, a trader came downriver and told me he spotted a stick jutting up in midstream with a scrap of red cloth tied to it. He took the chance, waded in, and found a ford. Then, farther down, he discovered three more.”

"Fords in Green Fork?" Brynden frowned. "And we never found them until now? Lord of the Crossing loses his bridge, and fords appear. Too sweet a coincidence."

“It’s the Gods bringing down their wrath upon House Frey,” Lord Hoster said, comfortable and delighted. "I ought to send word to Wylis. Good lad was dragged into this nonsense without cause. It might lift his spirits a touch."

But before getting to writing, Hoster looked up at his brother. 

"Go see these fords with your own eyes. They sit in the Mallister holdings. Let the whole of the Riverlands know it."

####

Moat Cailin, 

It was a long, long journey. On the map, Westeros seemed rather small compared to Essos, but it was still too grand. From the Twins to Moat Cailin alone was a distance of over three hundred miles, and it took Wylis ten days to arrive at Moat Cailin with the rest of his men. 

As it was turning dusk, they decided to make the ruined castle their home for the night. Besides, they had companions in the form of good men of the Night's Watch on their journey to take the fresh recruits up to the Wall. 

While half a dozen thieves and rapists sat in the caged carriage, Wylis and his men camped around a large bonfire, cooking meat with the four men of the Night's Watch. They were too excited to meet Wylis, as the Tyrant of the Trident was a title that had spread even to the Wall. And there were plenty of men at the Wall who admired Wylis for rising from his lowly status to become a lord. 

But Wylis wasn't interested in any of them. No, he was only focused on the fifth man who was supposed to join the Night's Watch, but he wasn't in chains or in a cage. The man was free to do whatever he wanted. 

"Aye, Small Paul, m'lord? The poor lad's got no kin left. Don't let his size move ye, he's gentle as a lamb and simple in the head. No one could set him to work nor keep him fed. The Wall's the only place for him."

Wylis stared at the seventeen-year-old boy named Small Paul, a name that was ironic because he was anything but small. Rarely Wylis ever witnessed men that tall. Personally, he'd beaten his own historic height, gaining an inch more than seven feet, owing to his better diet and training. But this Small Paul was just a few inches shorter than him, perhaps six-eight or six-nine?

"I'll take him," Wylis said. He didn’t care if the man was slow of wit. Put him in armor, and most men would think twice before trying anything foolish. "I’ll train the lad, feed him well, turn him into a bear wearing a man’s shape."

The four men of the Night's Watch looked at each other, frowning. 

"M'lord, that…"

"Easy now, lads." Wylis pulled his coin pouch from his belt and shook out the silver stags, tossing one to each of them. "Let the boy have a look at the world before you wrap him in black and call him sworn. He has broken no law."

Wylis was a man they admired. But Wylis' reputation was what they feared. Behind that elegant, friendly smile, nobody could tell what was hidden. 

“There’s reason in it, m’lord, I can see.”

"Aye."

The four men agreed. They had no other choice. 

####

Ramsgate, the North,

It took fifteen more days to go from Moat Cailin to Ramsgate. They first had to reach White Harbor, where Wylis met Lord Manderly to ease any misunderstandings regarding his refusal to the betrothal. He still offered to foster his son with the Manderlys later, and if romance happened then, he wouldn't mind a betrothal. 

After that was a smooth ride home, passing small patches of trees and wide plains, some grassy and some farmed. He stopped at a few villages on the way that fell under him, ensuring no treacherous village head had appeared. Seeing stewards like Brennard and the one who brought down Maidenpool, he feared having fools in his own backyard. 

"Home, at last." He let out a tired breath when Ramsgate came into view. It was still small, underdeveloped, but the castle stood tall and mighty on the mesa. The smoke rising from houses and the castle's own chimneys made him feel warm already. 

The last few miles of the way, they just galloped. All of them were tired, and most of them had families they wanted to see. Moreover, many of them were shaken by what they knew. Somehow, in some unknown way, their lord had brought down the bridge between the Twins. They knew it with certainty, they just couldn't prove it. 

Chett, the man closest to their lord in terms of men-at-arms, just accepted it and moved on, advising other men to keep their mouths shut.

Truth be told, none of them wanted to talk about it. It was too bizarre and terrifying.

Wylis knew what was going on in their minds. It was easy to read their faces. But he couldn't care less. It was best that they saw him as a terrifying force, not as some giant, huggable fool. The latter was just for his women and children. 

On the way, all the men went their separate ways except Chett, who lived in the guardhouse of the castle. Small Paul was there too, who'd live with Chett for now.

"Take the day, Chett. There’s no work to be had. I’ll be staying in the castle myself," Wylis told his page. "Eat well, drink a little, maybe find a pretty lady to walk the coast with."

Chett laughed and shook his head. “Finding a woman’s harder than working. I’ll sleep instead, m’lord.”

Laughing, Wylis waved and dismounted Caliburn, patting the big horse on the head, giving a few nice face rubs while the stableboy came. 

"Well done, Caliburn. Eat your fill. You may be busy siring a few lads and lasses soon, if Lady Dustin gives her nod," Wylis spoke to him like an old friend. Then he glanced at the stableboy. "See he’s fed proper."

"Will do, m'lord."

Wylis watched Caliburn being taken to the indoor stables. He was already planning on building a private garden, maybe, where he'd let Caliburn roam freely. He wanted everyone he cherished to live a happy life. 

"You're back, my lord."

From behind, he recognized a smooth, sweet, firm voice. With a big smile, he turned around, and there she was, the woman he yearned for the most. "Aye, my lady. Hope the castle treated you well in my absence."

"..."

Lyanna stared at him silently. 

Wylis did the same. 

Lyanna set her hands on her hips and shook her head, smiling. “Aside from cold nights alone, no husband to annoy, and no favorite saddle to ride, aye, it treated me well.”

"..."

Chuckling, adoring her grumpy, beautiful face, Wylis spread his arms wide, invitingly. "Well, why the wait then?"

"Damn it!" Lyanna grumbled and rushed up to him and just jumped without a care. 

Wylis received her in a warm, tight embrace, his thick arms wrapped around her back, his spread palms under her soft hips, keeping her in the air. He really was too damn tall, but she didn't care, nor did he. 

"You are barred from leaving for a year," Lyanna whispered, fingers obsessively stroking his stubbled beard as she crushed her mouth against his.

Her tongue slithered between his lips right away, her passion overflowing. She hugged his head, flattening her soft breasts against his hard chest. She wanted to show him how much she missed him, more than poetic words could describe. 

Wylis, too, clenched her hips, growing harder than he should out there. Gods, he loved her so much. Having your best friend as your wife was the greatest joy one could have, especially one who was as beautiful as she was witty and understanding.

"Ummmh…" Lyanna finally lost her breath and broke the kiss. She felt his arms squeeze her too hard. "You're… crushing me."

"Oh, I'll be doing that plenty in the nights to come, my she-wolf." He brushed a quick kiss near her lips and set her back on her feet. She barely reached his shoulder. "Let's go inside. Too many eyes here."

Lyanna wrapped an arm around his and walked with him inside. She guided him towards the ground floor's solar, where everyone had gathered ever since they heard he had reached the town. 

"Before we go inside." Lyanna caught his hand before the doors opened, smiling up at him. "Genna Lannister is here. She came the moment you left. She claims Lord Tywin sent her, but you already told me. The boy is beautiful; he has your face and eyes."

Wylis eyed his wife with a worried look. "Then she—"

"Impossible to hide. We couldn't make her live outside the castle for so long. Besides, she has something to hide, as do we. I have a feeling, I saw the thirst in her eyes. She's here for much more than just Lord Tywin's bidding."

But that didn't relieve Wylis. He didn't trust the Lannisters. He didn't trust Genna either. Besides, the woman was barely loyal to—

He tried to look up her loyalty. He remembered it being thirty percent when he put the babe in her. He had never checked it again and… he should have. 

Huh? Seventy percent? 

"I should speak with her alone when the time comes."

“It will take more than speaking alone,” Lyanna said with a sly grin as she pushed the doors open. “Don't worry over much. As a woman, I see what's beneath her face.”

Wylis gave a tired sigh and walked inside, immediately greeted by the warmest feeling he could ever hope for. The entire solar was filled with children and women, except for Brandon. More than the warm hearth, it was all the gorgeous smiles that melted him. 

"Take these two. They're heavy." Brandon hurried over, cradling Magnus in one arm and Arthria in the other. "Gods damned, they’re growing too fast."

Instantly, Wylis received his son and daughter in his arms. He had to agree with Brandon; both of them were big for their age. Over two years of age, Magnus was already near three feet in height, and Arthria wasn't far behind, just two and already over two feet in height. 

Furthermore, their eyes looked so intelligent. The two stared at him intently, their cute baby hands tapping all over his big face. 

"Da?" Magnus mumbled. 

"..."

Wylis froze right there, eyes wide. What was that? That warm surge in his body. It felt ticklish in his stomach, an unusual excitement mixed with love and protective instincts. 

"He's already talking?" He looked at Lyanna, who smirked, arms crossed. 

Tap! Tap!

"Bubu…" Arthria tried to mumble something, smacking him on the face. 

"And she's trying." He gulped, amused by their growth. Sure, they were blessed, but this was a lot. And they already had life points available to be allotted. He gave Magnus' two to Dexterity and Vitality, one each. For Arthria, he gave her one point to Intelligence. 

[Magnus Kaiser(Trueborn) - Lyanna Stark's

[Strength - 4/15
Dexterity - 3+1/15
Intelligence - 4/15
Charisma - 8/15
Vitality - 5+1/15]

[Arthria(Bastard) - Ashara Dayne

[Strength - 3/10
Dexterity - 3/10
Intelligence - 3+1/10
Charisma - 7/10
Vitality - 4/10]

Then, he showered his two kids with kisses until they got annoyed. 

When they started protesting, he handed Magnus back to Lyanna, and then walked over to Ashara. The gorgeous Dornish woman stood proud and tall, smiling warmly. 

He didn't hide it anymore, although Genna was there. He pecked Ashara on the lips before hugging her, their daughter between. "She's going to break hearts."

Ashara giggled, receiving the babe in her arms. "I pity the ones who’ll try to break her heart more, my lord."

"Oh, hah! I'll break their legs." Wylis laughed, as did others. But they all knew he'd do it. 

Right beside, he moved to Wenda, heavily pregnant, perhaps a few weeks from giving him another gift. He embraced her and kissed their son, Simon. The boy was growing tall just as much as others. All his children were blessed. 

"No more moving around for you, Wenda." He ordered, worried about her slipping somewhere. He kissed her lips, tucking away locks of hair.

"I hope the journey back home was safe." He kissed Ros as well, the signs of life in her belly not yet visible. 

"It was, my lord," Ros replied, adoration and love in her voice, her one hand caressing her belly. "Welcome home."

After that, Wylis received his two sons, twins, each a giant despite being less than a year old. In comparison, their mother was short and petite, even more so than Lyanna. Yet, Wylis kissed her, cherishing her all the same. 

Anna was a lowborn widow from Stoney Sept, but she was his now. She was also the chief maid of the castle, whose duty was to oversee other maids. He didn't allow her to do any heavy labor either. 

"Alric and Alden." He looked at his two boys, both of whom were blessed with strength greater than any. "I can see fine, proud knights in making."

Anna giddily smiled. She lacked self-confidence, understandably, as she was surrounded by realm-wide famed beauties, high noblewomen, and even royalty. Yet, Lyanna herself had made her ease into her role and understand the basic fact that Wylis didn't give a damn about the status of others. 

"How is the castle treating you, Anna?" he asked the woman. 

"Blessed, delighted, and merry," Anna replied, looking down in shame. "I… I feel at home, my lord."

"This is your home." Wylis pecked her forehead and handed the boys back. "You're a part of this big family."

He kissed his sons again and moved on to see Rhaella. The elegant woman stood there in a modest grey gown, with a white-fur cloak on her shoulders that elevated her beauty with her silver-blonde hair. Whenever he looked at Rhaella, it always reminded him of finely aged wine. Not to mention, she wasn't even forty yet.

Although he saw longing in her eyes, he didn't kiss her. Not because he respected her royal status, but because he planned to see her again that day soon. Still, his embrace was tight, scandalous if anybody cared that she was the Queen. 

Wylis was careful of the small babe in Rhaella's arms. He knew her name, but he couldn't say it. "And this must be…"

"Daenerys," Rhaella replied proudly, handing Wylis the little girl. 

Wylis stared and could see the resemblance to Rhaella. She was tiny, just the size of his two hands holding her. She was mostly bald with a few patches of silver; her little eyes were violet. He didn't want to, but he felt just as protective of her as any of his children. Perhaps it was simply because he was a man of strength and she was just a little child. 

You're safe, girl. Just don't go all mad king on me, good? 

He played with Daenerys a bit, poking her chubby cheek until she grabbed his finger. He chuckled, forgetting all the exhaustion of the road. Knowing that she wasn't going to struggle in this life, that she'd have an actual happy childhood, even by the standards of Westeros' nobility, he just hoped it'd be enough to rewrite what her original fate was.

Finally, he handed the girl back to Rhaella, giving her a warm smile. He didn't expect Viserys to be there; the boy hated him. So, he walked over to Genna Lannister. Gods, the woman was a sight to behold, overflowing in her bodice in her tight red gown of clearly expensive taste. 

Genna was a woman blessed with decent height as well, and all the soft flesh she had gained was in the perfect places. He knew he was going to unwrap her soon, and he couldn't wait. But first, his eyes landed on the strong boy in her arms, also two years old. He was quite tall, not as tall as Magnus, however. 

"My lady." He nodded at Genna, grateful for his height as the deep valley of her breasts was so delicious to look at. 

"Oh, my lord." Genna didn't hold back, however. Being a confident woman, she threw herself into Wylis' arms. 

Wylis didn't mind it and hugged her back. The secret was out of the bag anyway, at least in that room. Besides, feeling the fluffiness of her breasts made him shudder in hope. 

Finally, after the embrace, he held his son in his arms. He never dared say it, however. He was never going to openly declare that the boy was his. 

"I have named him Leonel Lannister, my lord." Genna introduced. "He's beautiful and so…"

"Hu-nwry… Mama."

Holy fuck! He's speaking already. 

Wylis gulped. He remembered that Leonel was born blessed with high intelligence, and he'd added more points to it. The boy was already at seven points in intelligence, and ten was the peak. And right away, he added one more to Dexterity. Then he added one more to Charisma, using points collected in two years.

[Son(Bastard) - Genna Lannister
Life Points Available - 0]

[Strength - 4/10
Dexterity - 3+1/10
Intelligence - 7/10
Charisma - 4/10
Vitality - 4+1/10]

Blonde hair, blue eyes, face matching Wylis more than that Frey husband of hers. 

"He is blessed with wit, Lady Genna. Sharper than most you’ll meet. Nurture him well, and even in might, he will shine." Wylis declared and handed the boy back. "Let's discuss the matters regarding your visit later."

Genna solemnly calmed down and stood in place. 

Wylis finally moved to Elia Martell, the Dornish dusky woman was in a simple, sleeveless attire, yet still noble. He gave her just a simple nod and smile, leaving her as the only woman not embraced or kissed by him.

He didn't avoid her. It was just the boundary between them that he respected. He had been involved with Rhaella since before saving her. But Elia was different, and trying anything with her would make him feel like he was using her; that intimacy was a reward for saving her. 

"Oh?" Wylis acted confused with a hand on his brow. He pretended to look around, searching. "Where's my little goblins? I can't see them."

"Here! Here, down here!" Rhaenys chirped, jumping, waving her little arms. Right beside her stood three-year-old Aegon, gawking at the giant before him. "Look! Look at me, Wylis!" 

After a bit more acting, Wylis finally looked down and exclaimed. "Ah! There you are. Come here."

He grabbed both of them and lifted them high in his arms. The two giggled non-stop, Rhaenys most, used to Wylis giving her that treatment, making her fly. Aegon was new to it as he had just started remembering things. 

"Tell me a story, Wylis," Rhaenys asked, begging with puppy eyes. 

“A story? Aye, tomorrow then. I’ll tell you the tale of Robin Hood.” He said, gently rocking the two children in his arms.

"Who's that? R-Rob? He robs?"

"Oh, he does. He takes from the big, cruel, evil rich folk, robs their coin, and gives it to the poor. Sounds lively enough, doesn't it? I’ll tell it tomorrow."

To Wylis, Aegon, and Rhaenys were his kids. He reckoned he wouldn't be surprised if they one day started calling him father. And he was willing to accept them. 

"I have some work to do now, go back to your mother." He lowered the two to the floor and finally walked over to Brandon, hugging the wild wolf. "Don't expect a kiss."

"Hah! Like I'd ever kiss that whoring mouth of yours."

"..."

Fucker pulls no words. 

Wylis noticed the women holding back a laugh, Lyanna especially snorting in failed attempts. Aye, he was a manwhore, and he couldn't even deny it. 

“Good to have you back, my giant brother,” Brandon said with a grin, slapping Wylis hard on the shoulder. “Come on, it’s about fucking time you laid eyes on your fleet. It’s a sight worth seeing, I’m telling you.”

Wylis nodded and looked back at Lyanna, exchanging some words with the mere change of expressions. She gave him an assuring look, and he headed out to see his hard work. 

####

Ramsgate Port,

What a sight it was. Over twenty ships were at the port, some anchored in the distance. Not all were his; many were rented. But out of them, he owned eight cogs and eight carracks. Carracks were large and expensive, but more than half of them came from the pirates. 

"I sent word to Morgan from White Harbor. He's sending sailors every week to man these ships. Right now, I’ve sent a couple out fishing so they earn their keep. But Wylis, if you don’t start moving on whatever plan you’re nursing, these ships will drain your gold quicker than ale in my cup. A vessel that just sits there is a useless tit that costs a fortune and gives no milk."

Wylis looked at his old friend. "What did you do to Brandon?"

"Hah, listen to me, sounding all clever and shit. Been reading tomes and listening to the clever cunts who showed up to man the ships." Brandon laughed. "Either way, the ships are solid as a whore's promise, and the wall's coming along nicely. You've laid eyes on it. The one circling where the future moat'll be is almost done, thank the Gods."

Wylis then told him about his journey down south and the mess that House Frey caused. Of course, Brandon laughed harder after learning all that, calling the bridge's fall the gods' justice. 

After the ships, Brandon dragged him around the whole town, showing him some new shops that had opened. Two new taverns, as the townsfolk earned coin and needed somewhere to spend it. Wylis also met with the blacksmith, who was busy making the metal boxes he'd ordered a long time ago. They were the most important element in his short-term but high-reward trade he'd planned. 

Finally, as they strolled back towards the castle, Brandon turned serious. 

"Now that you're back, I'll shove off for a while. Been trading ravens with Lady Dustin, and the words are getting filthy. Then it's off to Winterfell to grab some shit and haul it here. Ned's fucking struggling with stubborn Karstarks. I'll go sort his mess out. Father beat it into my thick skull to rule that bloody place, not Ned."

That was just how Brandon Stark was. The man acted all brute, foolish, drinking jester, but under that cloak was a man who thought deeply. A man with a working head. After all, Brandon was the only man to realise just how close Wylis and Lyanna had gotten. 

"Will you tell him about her?"

"Gods, no! Ned's my brother, and I'd ride into battle beside him any day, but trust him with a secret? I'd sooner trust a direwolf with a leg of lamb. Best we say nothing while our friend's still warming that pointy fucking throne."

"Then take six men with you, train them on the way. The Boltons have gone quiet, and that never bodes well. I can smell a plot.” Wylis saw the sense of it. Killing Brandon would wound him true. Brandon was a second line of safety in Ramsgate, near as solid as Wylis himself.

"Alright, but I get to choose them." 

"Anyone besides Chett is fine."

Brandon headed to the guardhouse right away, and Wylis entered the castle. He went to the locked vault that only he and Lyanna knew how to open. From inside, he grabbed a chest and walked out. He went upstairs and arrived at Rhaella's bedchamber. 

After a few knocks, the doors opened. Rhaella stood there without her fur cloak, her gown tight around her waist, flowing out over her hips. 

"My lord, I was just feeding Daenerys." 

"Forgive the intrusion. This will take but a moment." He stepped into the bedchamber. "Lock the door behind."

Wylis walked all the way in, eyeing Daenerys in the cradle. He went over to a table and placed the chest on it. As he unlocked it, Rhaella stopped beside him, eyeing the chest with interest. 

"I thought this would put a proper smile on your face. I know they do nothing but sit there, but they still speak of the fire that runs in your veins," he said with a smile. Then, he eased the lid open to reveal the two dragon eggs.

Rhaella gasped and caressed the dragon eggs with shivering hands. Her eyes gleamed at the beauty of the two, one golden and one entirely black. She felt scared to even lift them and just felt them. 

"T-These are… precious, my lord." Rhaella whispered, "These could… You should sell them."

"..."

Honestly, Wylis hated the dead bastard Aerys even more. The man didn't deserve someone this kind and warm-hearted. Despite knowing how rare dragon eggs were, her first thought was to sell them to fund Ramsgate. 

"Rhaella." He set a hand on her shoulder and turned her to him. "Keep them. Call it a family heirloom, something to pass on, since all else was lost when you fled King’s Landing and Dragonstone."

Yet, Rhaella shook her head. She stepped closer to him, her soft hands on his chest as she looked up at him, reaching up to stroke his face. "Wylis... I cannot keep these. They’re worth far more than gold or diamonds. You’ve already done so much for me, more than enough, more than any man would ever do for another in—"

“And I did it because I wanted to.” He slid a strong arm around her waist and cupped her face with a rough hand. “I ask myself why you do not hate me. I slew Rhaegar. Aerys, I won’t even name; he earned his death. I brought your house to ruin, and yet I stand shield to the one you may call usurper.”

"Robert is not an usurper," Rhaella replied. "After what Aerys and Rhaegar did, the rebellion was deserved. Every great house, every proud dynasty, it all crumbles in the end when the rule turns rotten. And Robert... he carries Targaryen blood, thin as it runs in him now. He does."

"And Elia?"

"She would never hate you, my love." Rhaella pressed herself against his chest, rising on her toes. "Never. She and her little ones draw breath today only because of you. The danger you brave every day to keep us hidden here... it dwarfs everything else. And my son... gods, my son betrayed her trust at every turn. She... we... we’re so grateful that we still live, that we can watch whatever remains of our house bloom again, even if it will never be the glory it once was."

Wylis stared into her eyes, only seeing her earnest feelings. And as she rose on her toes, he leaned down and kissed her so passionately he could swear he felt her melt in his arms.

Wylis claimed her completely, his tongue thrusting past her parted lips to tangle with hers in slick, wet strokes that left no room for gentleness. He sucked hard on her tongue, drawing it into his mouth like he meant to steal her breath.

"Ummmh!" Rhaella moaned into his mouth, her eyes fluttering shut in surrender, her tongue fighting a losing battle. 

Her body arched into him as his strong hands slid behind her to grip her supple hips, fingers clawing into the plush flesh, yanking her deep against his throbbing eagerness.

With fire roaring through him, Wylis bunched the fabric of her gown in his fists and dragged it upward, bunching it over her thighs. His hands plunged under her smallcloth, palms claiming the bare, warm curves of her hips. He squeezed the soft, fertile flesh.

His cock strained like iron, and Rhaella's hand found it instinctively. She rubbed the rigid length through the fabric with submissive strokes. She pressed harder, tracing the throbbing vein along his shaft, her fingers trembling with need as she yielded to him completely.

He gulped down her sweet flavor, tongue lashing against hers in relentless, wet swirls while his claws dug deeper into her asscheeks, spreading them apart. One hand slipped between the crevice, fingers gliding through the slick heat oozing from her core.

Gods, how he wanted to carry her to the bed and bury himself inside her, to flood her womb with his seed and plant a babe in this gorgeous woman. 

Rhaella was breathtaking, silver hair cascading like moonlight, violet eyes glazed with love. And the thought of filling her until she swelled with his child only made his cock twitch harder against her palm.

But he was no mindless brute. He yanked his hands free from her smallcloth, letting her gown fall back into place, and tore his mouth from hers.

"I might lose control if we continue."

"You don't have to control… not with me, Wylis."

Fuck, she's adorable. 

She really was. Her innocent face in heat gave the 'shove that cock in me' air. Her spit-slick lips, her glassy eyes, her hand rubbing him. 

"I will be back. In a few months, let's… try to have a babe, if you aren't againt—"

“I want to, Wylis. Gods know I want to.” Rhaella’s voice trembled. “And it will bring me such joy... because I know ours will be made with love. Only love.”

One last time, he squeezed Rhaella into a tight hug, engulfing the woman with his arms. He pecked deep kisses on her neck at the same time, his erection still fighting him. 

"I’ll store the eggs in the vault, then." 

"Please, that will put me at ease."

Finally, he grabbed the chest and walked out of Rhaella's room. She didn't follow him and closed the door as she had Daenerys to feed.  

"You can come out now, Viserys." Wylis sternly ordered, eyeing a corner. 

Sure enough, Viserys appeared, dressed in his training attire, his sword strapped to his hips. The boy was only nine, yet his expressions said otherwise. They were getting harder to read with time; he didn't even show bursts of anger anymore. 

"What do you want?"

“What games are you playing with my Mother? All she does is mumble about you day and bloody night."

Soon will moan. 

"What do you want, boy?" Wylis asked the same question again. 

Viserys glared, but didn't shout like he used to. "A duel. I know I’m not strong enough to beat you yet, but I must know exactly how far behind I am."

Sighing, Wylis placed the chest on the floor against the wall and stood in the middle of the hallway. He placed one hand behind him and waved the other one. "Draw your sword and come at me."

"You have no blade."

"Should make it easier for you, no?"

Viserys gritted, doubting himself already when faced with that sort of confidence. But he wanted to hurt the giant man; he wanted to draw blood. So, he drew his sword and ran forward, ready to thrust the blade into the chest. He hoped his speed would help. 

Clank!

"No—"

He was fast, he knew he was. This was his best speed. But all he saw was the giant brute slap his blade away like it was a toy and then…

Pa!

He felt a hard slap smack him on the face. It burned, it ached. He fell sideways, not because the slap was too hard, but because he lost his balance. But it was more humiliating when the giant brute grabbed him by the back of his tunic and lifted him to his feet like he weighed nothing. 

"The day you can stand against my one hand, I'll take you as squire if it pleases you. I'll train you myself, should you wish it. Only know this: I train hard as any wild thing. You'll damn the Gods, yourself, and all the world besides."

Wylis saw the stars in Viserys' eyes. The candy he just dangled in front of Viserys would be enough to drive him and keep him away from doing something dumb.

With no more words, he grabbed the chest and left. 

As evening approached, he ate supper early and then retired to his bedchamber. He was truly tired and didn't do the usual mating ritual with Lyanna. She didn't try it either. 

The she-wolf just nestled in her big brute's arms, talking and listening. She got angry when she learned how close to dying Wylis came at sea. She cursed Walder Frey's seven generations, and of course, Robert's. 

"You did it?"

She turned to face him after putting two and two together. 

"The bridge at the Twins. You?"

Wylis pressed a finger on her lips, smirking. "Walls have ears, my wife."

Lyanna just laughed at that and turned her back against his chest again so he could spoon her. Oh, she just loved imagining Walder Frey's reaction, even though she'd never seen the man. She loved how powerful her lord husband was. 

"He deserved it," she mumbled. 

But she heard no response from Wylis, just his gentle breath against her nape. She could feel he was already asleep, too tired. And gods, she knew it took a lot to tire this big, lovable man of hers. 

"Sleep well, my love."

Finally, Lyanna shut her eyes as well, drifting to sleep in the world's safest arms. 

####

Wylis woke up late the next morning. Lyanna was already gone from the bed to do whatever she did. He got dressed, washed his face, brushed his teeth with a self-made brush, and went to eat some breakfast. 

"My lord, Lady Genna wishes to see you in her chamber." 

About time. 

Wylis sent the servant away and finished his breakfast, finally rinsing his mouth with some mint-lemonade to wash the taste of eggs, meat, and milk.

Dressed in a simple tunic and trousers, he went upstairs to the guest bedchamber where Genna was staying. She'd been living in his castle for some time now. 

Knock! Knock!

"Please, come inside, my lord."

At that call, he pushed the doors open and entered. As the floor was high, the bedchamber had wider windows. Sunlight filled the room, basking everything in a warm glow. And near the bed stood Genna Lannister in all but a single heavy cloak that covered her body entirely from neck to toe. 

What a woman. 

He eyed her messy golden-blonde hair, her lips painted red with something. Her face was naturally round, but not in an unsightly way. She was just perfect, thick was a word that he rarely used, but she was. 

"You wanted to see me, my lady?"

Genna’s lips curved into a slow, hungry smile as she stepped closer, the golden earrings at her ears trembling with every sway of her hips. “Far too long, my lord. The last time we met, you were not yet a knight, and now… Gods look at you. I’m utterly in awe of your stature, in every possible sense.”

He chuckled and took a step closer to her. She smelled of wine and more, arousal perhaps. "My lady, what you saw within these walls—"

"Won't leave, just as this moment between us." Genna clarified before he could even finish. “Lady Elia told me every word of the terms you offered her. You still hold to Robert’s throne; you would still bleed for his line. That is all I need… that my niece never suffers what Elia and Rhaella suffered.”

Cersei's suffering enough already. 

"And what of this moment between us?" 

Genna smirked proudly and slipped her hands out of her draping cloak, spreading it wide open like a curtain, revealing the absolute nudity behind. Not a single piece of cloth was on her, completely bare, ripe, full, glorious. 

The cloak pooled around her feet.

There she was, completely exposed, skin flushed with need. Her hips flared wide, begging to be gripped hard enough to bruise. That magnificent bosom; Gods, each one more than enough to bury a man’s face whole. They swelled with every breath, soft and heavy.

Wylis gulped, his throat dry as his gaze dragged lower. Her belly was soft, a gentle curve that led to the neat trim of golden curls decorating her cunt. He could already imagine how slick she was, how needy, the scent of her arousal thick in the air. 

"Leonel is the joy of my life. Won't you gift this poor lady more joy?" Genna asked, licking her lips, stepping closer to him. She had a belt tied around her neck, and she grabbed its loose end. "Here, hold my leash and lead me through this moment. You won't hear me complain, just moan. Oh… bruise me… Wylis."

She pressed the strap into his palm, eyes locked on his, wide and begging. Pure, shameless submission shining in those depths.

Wylis saw it clear as day. The leash, her pleading tone. She craved something her sniveling Frey husband could never give. And he towered over her by more than a head, broad and muscled from years of training. He could give her exactly what she hungered for, pin her down, own her completely.

He rolled the leather belt slowly around his knuckle, feeling the tension where she’d already cinched it snug against her throat. Then he yanked, sharp and sudden. Genna stumbled forward with a soft gasp, crashing into his chest. 

His free hand shot up, claws digging into one heavy breast. Soft as warm clouds under his fingers, yet so full it overflowed his grip. Her nipple stiffened instantly, a hard peak poking into his palm.

Her hands instantly moved to untie his trousers, eyes focused on him only.

"Open your mouth."

Genna obeyed at once, lips parting, eyes already glazed with lust.

"Wider," he barked, tone roughening.

She stretched her jaw obediently, mouth gaping, breath coming hot and fast.

"Tongue out all the way."

Out it came, pink and wet, trembling slightly as she held it there for him. Nothing in the world mattered but his command.

Wylis smirked. He spat directly onto her waiting tongue, watching it land. He wanted to see how deep her submission ran, how much degradation this proud lioness would swallow for the fucking she craved.

Genna didn’t flinch. She closed her mouth, swallowed deliberately, throat working under the leather belt. Then she opened again, wider this time, tongue extended, eyes gleaming with filthy gratitude, silently begging for more.

"Oh, Genna. I’ll enjoy this." 

With a chuckle, Wylis tugged sharply on the leash. The leather bit into her throat, forcing Genna up onto her toes. Higher, higher, until her calves trembled and she stood on her toes. He held it mercilessly tight, keeping her stretched and straining. Then he leaned down, his teeth caught her lower lip, biting just hard enough to sting before his tongue plunged in, sipping the hot, wine-sweet slickness of hers.

Genna’s entire body shivered in ecstasy, every inch of her skin prickling as she struggled to stay on her toes. The pull on her throat made breathing deliciously restricted. She couldn’t lower herself; he wouldn’t allow it. The burn in her calves only fed the fire pooling low in her belly.

She loved this. Oh, how she loved it. As a Lannister, few men dared lay rough hands on her; fewer still could. And her Frey husband? A trembling half-wit who rutted like a nervous boy and finished before she’d even warmed. Her life was so dry that she found intrigue in Tywin's court. 

But now, finally, she tasted the spice she’d craved, the fierce joy of being truly wanted, truly taken.

Wylis was everything her husband wasn’t. A towering beast of muscle and scars, gorgeous in his raw power, wiser and nobler than any storybook knight. The man who’d shielded queens and princesses with his own flesh. No one in Westeros could match him.

"Enough." Wylis broke the hot kiss and let his loosened trousers drop. "On your knees."

"Yes!" 

Genna dropped eagerly, knees hitting the stone, only for the leash to snap taut again. The sudden jerk yanked her in, throat constricting under the belt as his dripping cockhead slapped heavy against her plump, parted lips. She hadn’t braced for it, but she’d dreamed of this. Her mouth opened instinctively, welcoming him.

The thick, naked crown pushed past her lips in one ruthless thrust.

"Ghk!"

She felt how his cock filled her gullet instantly. Hot, heavy, tasting of salt and faint musk of his earlier arousal. The belt dug deeper into her throat with every inch of flesh he fed her, a filthy choke that made her eyes water and her cunt clench hard on nothing. She felt her throat burning, jaw stretched impossibly wide around his girth, the leash keeping her helpless. Thrill surged through her like wildfire. This was pure, sinful degradation, surrendering to the only man worthy. Her nipples ached, stiff and begging; slick heat dripped down her thighs as she moaned around him, the vibration humming along his shaft.

Ghk! Spurt! Ghk!

He fucked her mouth without mercy, thrusting forward in steady, claiming strokes. 

Her mouth felt stuffed, his cock longer than her bloody face, fat enough to make her lips burn white at the corners. No man in the Seven Kingdoms could compare; she was certain of it. Her throat spasmed around the invading head each time he pushed deeper, gagging her sweetly. 

Tears streaked her cheeks as saliva spilled from her chin. And yet she wanted to choke on every impossible inch. She couldn’t fathom how she had taken him before, but her body remembered the stretch and craved it. She hollowed her cheeks, sucked harder, begging with her tongue for the brutal reward.

“Mmmm-nghk!” She choked hard, barely halfway down her throat, before her body rebelled. 

The belt yanked tight, pulling her face in as his hips thrust back and forth relentlessly. Spit drooled from her bottom lip, dripping onto her heaving breasts, while fresh tears blurred her eyes. No other man would dare treat a Lannister like this, like a common whore on her knees. But that was what thrilled her. The shame burned through her, twisting straight into raw, dripping need between her thighs.

Gluk! Gluk! Gluk!

Each plunge forced her lips wider, stretching them taut around his iron-hard rod. 

She looked up through watery lashes, meeting his gaze. Hungry, and utterly in control. Every throbbing, heated slide of his fat cock sent sparks down her spine, bullying past her clenching throat. And somehow, he knew her limit perfectly, always pulling back just before it was too much. He dominated her completely, but never damaged her. She adored him for it, worshipped him with every desperate suck.

"Mmmmm!"

She felt him swell impossibly thicker against her tongue. He was close, she could tell by the way his thighs tensed under her palms, by the erratic twitch deep in her throat.

Sluuuurp!

But then he pulled out of her mouth, all the way out. A thick, glistening trail of spit arched between her swollen lips and his flushed tip, dangling obscenely before it broke.

"On the bed." He yanked the belt-leash hard, hauling her to her feet like a prized mare. She stumbled, legs shaky, cunt throbbing with emptiness. 

Pa!

His broad hand cracked against her round ass as she walked ahead of him, the sharp sting making her asscheeks jiggle and bloom with heat. The pale flesh turned angry red, bruised with his palm prints. 

Oh, that delicious sting. She couldn’t wait for more, couldn’t wait to feel the ache tomorrow with every step.

"No, on your belly." He had total control and shoved her forward until she fell face-first on the bed. He then pulled off his own tunic in one swift motion, never leaving her leash for more than a moment.

She crawled up obediently, ass high, and felt the mattress dip as he climbed right behind her. 

His powerful knees spread wide, straddling her creamy underthighs, pinning her prone and weak under his weight.

"Aaaaah! Yes…!"

Holy fuck, she’s built for birthing babes. 

Wylis drank in the sight of her round peach, so supple and ripe, juicy flesh spilling between his fingers as he clawed them, kneaded them, lost himself in the soft give. Even the tight pucker of her other entrance winked at him, tempting him. Genna Lannister was a woman made to be pounded day and night. It was her curse to be chained to that Frey fool when she should be stretched around a real man.

Pa!

Another sharp slap landed, turning her ass sore, his handprint glowing like brands. Then he dug his heels into the bedding, spread her cheeks wide with rough thumbs, and squeezed his oversized crown between her thighs. The fat head nudged her leaking folds, scorching.

"Agh… Y-Yes…"

"Yes, what?"

"In me… put it in me!"

"Why?" He felt the lewd need to hear her say it, loud and shamelessly proud.

"I want it, please! Just… stretch me with that fat cock… Oh!"

"Hm? Not ashamed of asking for such a thing? You're a Lannister lady."

He probed teasingly, the swollen tip stretching her open inch by inch. She was still so impossibly tight around him, wet walls fluttering in protest and welcome. “Say it… Who are you?”

"Mmmmh!" She clawed at the bedsheets, knuckles white, hips rocking back shamelessly. “W-Whore… Your whore! That’s who I am… Fill me-eeeeeh!”

Wylis smirked wickedly and yanked the leash hard enough to force her up onto her elbows. 

The belt bit into her neck, arching her back sharply, and her hips wiggled back on their own, greedy and shameless. She took every filthy inch, her soaked cunt swallowing the first few ridges of his cock with a wet, greedy gulp. The cry that tore from her throat was pure lust, echoing off the stone walls and straight into his balls.

She slapped the bed hard, fingers twisting in the sheets as her whole body shook. “Nnnnnngh… So—oooooh! So big! More, harder!”

"Very well, whore it is."

Plap!

"Aaaaaaaaagh! Fuck!" 

Genna rarely cursed, but she had to. She couldn’t see it, couldn’t twist to watch, but she felt it. She felt him bury every last inch until his hips slammed flush against her ass and his cockhead harshly nudging the mouth of her womb.

He certainly was.

The heat of her cunt was unholy. Soaked walls clamped down like a fist, squeezing him from root to tip in a slick, pulsing grip. Her muscles fluttered around him, milking, begging, so drenched that her juices coated his shaft and dripped down his balls. He could feel every ridge of her pussy dragging over his veins, every desperate suction that tried to pull him deeper. Greed roared through him, thick and savage, the kind that made a man want to rut until the world burned.

His balls slapped against her ass, the perfect thick cushion that swallowed each impact with a soft, wet smack. She was the tightest, slipperiest tunnel he’d felt months, and he knew he could pound her for hours. For now, he savored the molten warmth wrapped around him.

He felt the frantic twitches deep inside her, right where he pressed against the gates of her womb, knocking like he wanted to break them down.

Plap!

He didn’t ask permission. He simply gave her what she begged for.

Plap! Plap!

He started pounding, hips snapping forward with brutal force. Genna’s prone body smothered under him, the bedding bunching with every thrust. Her swollen pussy lips stretched in and out, clinging to his girth. Her petals dragged inside with each plunge and bloomed open when he pulled back. Airy gasps, filthy squelches, the thick musk of sex flooded the chamber, but loudest of all were Genna’s moans, reckless and wild.

“Oh Gods! Yes! Fuck… your whore, Wylis. Ruin me! Harder, please! Use me like the filthy Lannister slut I am! Don’t… stop…never stop!”

He tightened the leash again, pulling her head back until her throat was bared. 

She scrambled for the belt with trembling fingers. She gripped it hard, the leather squeaking under her desperate hold. Not to loosen it, never, but to anchor herself as pleasure threatened to shatter her.

Wylis was far stronger. He gave her exactly what she’d craved all those nights of stifled pleasure. A total, merciless fucking.

And… she broke.

"Yes, yes! Yesssssss! Fuck yesshh–!"  

With a violent scream, she convulsed in savage spasms as a hot, watery squirt gushed around his pistoning cock. Her nectar spluttered and frothed, more and more as he kept ramming into her scorching core. The bedding turned into a sloshy puddle, soaked through. Every thrust made obscene, churning noises as he sloshed through her release. 

Squelch! Srlk! Splosh!

His own cock was already on the verge, ready to explode.

"You want it in? Is that it, Genna?"

"Yes! Give me a babe… a big… beautiful babe!" 

Wylis chuckled, then ground his hips forward with the crushing weight of his entire body. He nestled as deep as flesh would allow, cockhead lodged tight against her womb, and shattered. 

Thick, gooey ropes of white erupted, utterly flooding her core. Shot after shot splattered against twitching, soaked walls. So much that it overflowed, creamy drips bubbling out around his buried shaft and smearing down her ass in sticky streams. He pulsed and pumped until her cunt was stuffed full, until every twitch of her walls milked another lazy spurt from his balls.

Ting!

[Name: Genna Lannister
Age: 39
Occupation: Mother, Advisor
Current Loyalty: 90%
Status: Impregnated]

That was fast. And ninety? Sweet heaven!

Even as the last shudder left him, he kept moving, hips rolling in that same rhythm. He fucked her deeper into the ruined bedding, cock staying iron-hard. He wasn’t nearly done with her yet.

"Turn… around," he ordered.

Genna rolled onto her back with shaky limbs, legs splayed open. 

The moment she settled, he mounted her again, sliding between her plush, fluffy thighs and jamming balls-deep in one ruthless thrust like his cock belonged there. His massive frame enveloped her completely, shadowing her like an oversized quilt of muscle and sweat. Her full tits flattened against his chest, and his sheer weight pressed her deep into the mattress until most of her body vanished under him, pinned down.

She groaned, the sound muffled beneath his crushing weight. 

He was gloriously, deliciously heavy. Every ounce of muscle and bone driving his hips down into her sore, reddened cunt with relentless force. Each thrust pinned her deeper into the soaked mattress, her body jolting, thighs quivering around his waist as he stretched her flushed walls over and over.

"Y-You… Wylis…" She stared at his sweat-dripping face. 

Wylis met her gaze and smiled. He planted his elbows beside her ears, caging her completely, and cupped the sides of her face with his large hands. “Yes?”

“C-Can… I-uh… live here… forever?”

Plap! Plap!

Creak! Creak!

She forgot to moan, breath caught in her chest, needing his answer more than air.

“As long as…” He ground hard, burying himself to the hilt and resting his damp forehead against hers. “You give me more. Many more… babes.”

"Oh! I will! I will… so many… so, so many… yes! Harder!"

Wylis silenced her with a kiss. He drowned himself in her. Every inch of her soft, shapely perfection was a feather-light luxury. Outside those walls, he would never degrade a woman, never strip her of the respect she was due. But Genna… Genna begged to be nothing more than his personal cocksleeve, and he was more than happy to oblige.

Soon, he unloaded another heavy load of fresh cream into her, followed by her third climax. 

But Wylis was Wylis for a reason, and he kept going. 

He had hours yet, and he used them well. 

Flipping her, folding her, slamming into her from every angle until her voice was hoarse and her body trembled uncontrollably.

By the time he finally pulled out and left her sprawled and utterly spent, the entire bed was drenched. Sunlight poured in strongly, the sun high above the castle walls. 

He had pounded her without pause or mercy until midday. Her breasts were bruised with his suckles and bites; her ass bore the clear red imprint of his hands; her pussy gaped swollen and flushed, glistening with froth that still leaked lazily from her stretched petals.

Even her lips were puffy and swollen from the countless devouring kisses. The belt around her neck was removed hours earlier, the moment he’d noticed the skin beneath turning too dark. He would dominate her, ruin her with pleasure, but never truly harm her.

"I-uh… need a bath."

"As do I, my lady." He wore his clothes, a bit sore. "Rest well."

Genna, in pure bliss, smiled, staring as Wylis came over and pecked her lips one last time before leaving through the door. 

She could swear she still felt a phantom cock still stretching her open. And now, she knew, where she used to barely feel her husband before, she wouldn't even notice him anymore. The man was as unremarkable as Wylis was remarkable.  

"Oh… I envy Lyanna… and the others."

####

Wylis had the stamina of a beast. His little meeting with Genna that morning was simply a small part of his long day. Moreover, he wasn't done with her, as he still had official matters to discuss with her. 

But for now, he let the woman rest and went out into the town to oversee all the work being done. It was bustling for what it was, and the wall around the mesa on which his castle sat was almost done. The gatehouse was being built at the moment, and the mechanism for a drop bridge. Soon, water would flow in that moat. 

The north-western part of the town was completely removed, making way for the future administration district that Wylis had planned. It would house all the work-related buildings, the schools, the military headquarters, the hospitals. It would also have its own private port and would have some of the finest inns in Ramsgate, which would serve wealthy or influential guests. It was a class divide that Wylis couldn't just ignore. It existed, and he had to entertain it. He could only minimize it. 

As he walked towards the docs, he planned the entire revamp of the area. The port was small for his vision, so it would need to be extended over the entire southern shore of the city. He also wanted a lot of greenery, and to make the future city of Ramsgate an actual livable place, not a hellhole that smelled of shit. Of course, sewers were important for that. He was going to work on them personally, digging tunnels underground. 

Then, he met with the builders and helped them take some measurements for the second stage of the project. The second wall was going to circle the moat's wall, leaving plenty of space between the two walls to build a planned administrative district. 

Once again, it was going to be a large-scale project. But Wylis didn't mind, as he was seeing the intended effects of generating so many low-skill, paid labour jobs. People from around the North and Riverlands were flocking to Ramsgate to earn some coin. 

[Tyrant's Fief]

[32000 acres, 50 sq.miles. 
People - 4718
Garrison - 50 Men
GDP - 200 Golden Dragons
Industries Main - Timber and fish
Cities - 0
Town - 1
Villages - 11 
Ships - 20
Fleets - 0
Horses - 484
Cows - 715
Sheep - 7650
Goats - 1832]

Looking at the numbers, it excited him. The population of his fief had increased by five hundred. While the GDP remained the same as he didn't generate any income, the effects were showing. Horses, cows, sheep, and goats had also increased. Now it also showed twenty ships under his possession and a garrison of 50 men that he had recruited. 

Wait a minute. I have fifty men in my army already. 

As expected, he checked the 'Tyrant of the Lands' chain quest and found its first stage already completed. The second stage demanded that he have a hundred men. Similarly, the first stage of the Tyrant of the Seas chain quest was completed, as he already had ten ships with crew. Heck, he had twenty ships for the second stage, but they weren't fully manned yet. 

I… think I received the rewards. 

He tried to remember some details. The skills promised hat tiers, and he had received Naval Command Skill Tier 1 and Army Command Skill Tier 1. He didn't know how much of an improvement they would be, however. 

But the truth was, he wanted to cross the first level of 'A Tyrant's Lair' chain quest. But it was also the hardest as it needed him to raise Ramsgate's population to ten thousand. The reward was Talent Hunter Skill, one that would make his life a lot easier. 

So much to do. 

Only getting frustrated, he returned to his castle and walked inside his solar. He grabbed a parchment and started writing, a big smirk plastered on his face. 

"Lord Walder Frey, it grieves me to hear what befell your house after I took my leave. A tragedy like that comes once in a hundred lifetimes, and it had to fall on yours. A pity. Yet I wager House Frey will crawl back to its feet. The bridge will rise again, and the tolls will clink in your coffers once more... in a decade or four, mayhaps…"

It was a letter for Walder Frey. As most nobles were sending condolences for the tragedy, he had to write one too. But to him it brought a far greater joy. After all, he was certain Walder must have doubts in his mind, accusations that the old fuck just couldn't prove. 

Too bad, I can’t see his face. 

Creak!

Right then, the door opened. Rhaenys' curious head peeked inside first, then her eyes sparkled after seeing him. She giggled and rushed in, dragging her mother along behind. 

"You promised, Wylis."

He chuckled and put away the quill, pushing his chair back to make some space. He watched as the five-year-old girl ran up to him and tried to climb up his chair to sit on his lap. He didn't help her.

"Uh!"

She worked hard, using her little arms to reach his armrest and then climbing with her feet. Being a big man, even his chair was high and big. For little Rhaenys, it was no different from climbing a mountain. 

But right when she was about to fall back, Wylis grabbed her and pulled her onto his right leg, seating her there. She instantly started toying with the paperweight, bobbing her head around, just happy to be there. 

"Very well, let’s begin with the tale of Robin Hood. But where is your brother?" He asked, lifting his gaze to Elia across the table.

"He's asleep," Elia replied. 

"Fine, I’ll tell you the story, and you can pass it on to him." He said and grabbed the little girl so she wouldn't fall back from his leg. "Pay attention now, Leia."

"Mama!" Rhaenys chirped brightly and patted Wylis’s other leg. "Come, come, sit here. You hear it too, what if I forget something?"

"..."

Wylis looked at Elia, the dusky woman, just as surprised as him. He chuckled, ready to refuse Rhaenys. But to his complete shock, the Dornish princess got up, walked around his table and approached him. 

No, she wouldn't do that. Why wo—

She did just that. She stepped between his legs and sat down sideways on his left thigh, plush with all her weight. 

Soft! Why the hell is she doing this?

He looked up at Elia's face, her dark lashes long, her black eyes focused back at his. The woman was gorgeous, and he was ready to go to battle to defend that. She was slender, her weight barely enough for him to be bothered. 

"Story time!"

Rhaenys chirped, and Wylis, without realising, instinctively placed a hand behind Elia as well, but it landed low between the small of her back and hips. He didn't move it away, however, just let it linger, as Elia herself seemed relaxed, her one hand placed on his shoulder. 

He didn't attempt anything further, however, and started telling the story 

"There was a town called Nottingham…" Wylis told the story as he remembered, leaving out no detail. He had to change some names and locations, however, as there was no Austria in Westeros or Essos. 

Still, it was undeniable that he felt hot with Elia sitting on his lap; the scent of the Dornish perfumes she'd obtained through traders did plenty to excite him. His hand on her back had already gone down enough to grope her ass, but he never made the action of doing it. 

He added some action in the story as Rhaenys loved that, and changed a few things here and there to make it more exciting. He didn't end it on a somber ending, however. Instead, he gave Rhaenys the happy ending, where the King returns and forgives Robin Hood for being an outlaw.

"...In the end, Robin marries Maid Marian, and together they celebrate with the Merry Men, promising to keep helping those in need and protecting the poor." He ended the story. "And that was the tale of Robin Hood."

Woosh!

At fierce speed, Rhaenys jumped down from his lap and ran towards the door. 

"I'll tell it to Jon before I forget," she shouted and ran out. 

Uh… this is awkward.

He fully expected Elia to get up and walk away as if nothing had happened. But instead, the woman pivoted her knees inward between his legs, turning her face so she could see him. Her one arm slid over his shoulder as her body leaned into his chest. 

She had started it, and Wylis had every right to take this matter further. But he didn't; he saw no reason for it. He was still unsure about Elia's intentions. His hand on her ass did twitch, however. 

"My lord," Elia muttered, her words laced with a whispering flavor of intimacy. "You must never forget. Without you, all this will crumble. Everything ends in the worst imaginable way."

His grip hardened on her rear. "I am aware, Myra."

"I heard what happened in Maidenpool." Elia purred, her face inching closer to his. "Leia and Jon see you as a father. Losing you would devastate them."

"Don't worry, I see them the same way. They’re like my own children," he assured her. 

But Elia's lips came so close to his. He could taste her breath. He stared into her eyes, and he really didn't know what she was thinking. On one hand, he was hard, on the other, he didn't want to do this if she was feeling obliged to give him favors. 

"My lady, we shouldn't do this. You're a—"

"True, a princess shouldn't." Elia caressed the back of his head with her fingers, her eyes shimmering, as if drunk on the sight. "But I'm Myra, aren't I?"

She leaned in with intent, her nose brushing past his, and her lips were ready. 

Knock! Knock!

"Wylis? Are you in there?"

Creak!

Elia flinched and jumped from his lap, stepping away from him like he was the plague. Blush marred her cheeks, and with silent steps, she walked all the way around to the other side of the table. 

Right then, Lyanna walked in lazily. "There you are. I've been searching for you."

Elia didn't linger. She greeted Lyanna and left his solar. 

Wylis just stared at his wife with a knowing look. He had seen this woman since he was young; he knew what mischief looked like just from her eyes. "How long were you out there?"

"Since Leia ran out," Lyanna said with a crooked smirk, leaning back against the table by his chair. "She craves you, Wylis. But I’m not giving you up without a fight. Just a bit of naughty fun... it might leave her wanting you even more desperately."

"Since when has she been like this?" He asked, getting up.

"Oh, I saw the way her eyes lit up the moment you climbed out of the spring with that thick log swinging between your legs. I don’t blame her one bit, my love. I’d melt into a hopeless mess too if you surprised me that way. She must have fancied you for a while, but seeing you bare like that... well, it clearly set something alight in her."

Wylis hummed, not much bothered by that. No, he was bothered by his stunning wife. "What about the fire lit in me?" 

"What d—aaaaah!" 

Without a warning, Wylis grabbed Lyanna by her hips and hauled her over one shoulder like a sack of grain. He wrapped an arm around her ass, keeping her there while she playfully slapped his back, laughing. 

"Time we fill our bedchamber with those pretty moans of yours and the wild peaks that follow," Wylis declared and headed towards the door. "You'll not walk straight for days, love. I'll quench this burning need in the hottest sheath gods made for me."

"Oh, threatening me with good time, my love?" Lyanna chirped. 

Laughing, Wylis reached the door and…

"Qyburn?" He found the old banished maester standing there, a deep frown on his face. 

"My lord! Oh, the Gods are testing you."

"What happened?" Lyanna asked, using her hands to lift herself so she could turn her head to look. 

"A raven came… King Robert is coming to Ramsgate!"

"..."

"Fuck!" Wylis cursed, his hard wood instantly turning into a soft twig. "Can't I have some peace just once?"

"Oh! Fuck me!" Lyanna cursed the same, as she had every reason to hide from that man. 

Ting!

What now? 

[New Side Quest - A Tyrant's Feast
Description - A Tyrant holds nothing back when it comes to hosting friends and feasts.
Goal - King Robert must leave Ramsgate with the memory of the feast etched in his mind. Remembered as the greatest feast of his life.
Reward - New Title & King Robert's Favor]

What? W-Why would I do that? That'll make him return again and again. 

Never before had Wylis received such a paradoxical quest. And sadly, now he knew the price of failing them. It felt like he was asked to jump left or right, but both sides led to a cliff.

No matter what I do, I'm fucked. 

_________________

A/N: The next chapter will be slightly fast-paced, so we get to see some development on the fief-building side.