Game of thrones: The Lustful sellsword

The first rays of dawn filtered through the wooden shutters, casting soft golden streaks across the room. The embers of the dying fire still crackled faintly in the hearth, their warmth lingering in the air.

Ros stirred against my chest, her bare body pressed against mine, her skin warm and supple.

She let out a slow, contented sigh before lifting her head, her messy red hair spilling across my shoulder as she peered up at me through half-lidded, sleepy green eyes.

A lazy smirk curled on her lips. "You're still here?"

I ran my fingers along her spine, enjoying the way she shivered at the touch. "Surprised?"

She chuckled softly, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to my jaw. "Most men disappear before the sun rises. Can't let the world know they paid for pleasure."

I smirked, tilting her chin up so that her lips were just inches from mine. "I don't need to hide."

She let out a breathy hum, her fingers tracing the scars on my chest, her expression thoughtful.

"You're different," she murmured.

I ran a hand through her tangled red locks, tucking them behind her ear. "I've been told that before."

She kissed me, soft at first, then deeper, slower—like she wanted to savor the moment.

Her hands slid up my arms, her nails grazing my skin as she pressed herself against me, her body molding to mine as if she didn't want to let go just yet.

But I pulled away, smirking as I brushed a thumb over her swollen lips.

"Tempting," I murmured, "but I have plans to make."

She let out an exaggerated sigh, falling back onto the mattress, her hair a wild mess against the sheets.

"Cold already?" she teased, stretching like a satisfied cat.

I chuckled as I sat up, reaching for my clothes. "Just a man who knows when it's time to move."

She propped herself up on her elbows, watching me dress. "Will I see you again?"

I smirked, fastening my belt. "Maybe."

Her eyes narrowed playfully. "Just 'maybe'?"

I leaned down, capturing her lips in a final, teasing kiss before whispering against them, "You'll just have to wait and see."

She exhaled a soft laugh, watching as I strode toward the door.

As I stepped out into the cold morning air, I didn't look back.

I had far more important things to focus on.

Gathering Information: The State of the North

The streets of Winterfell's outer town were already bustling despite the early hour. Merchants were setting up their stalls, blacksmiths hammering steel, and townsfolk trading news over steaming cups of ale.

I moved through the crowd effortlessly, blending in as I listened, observed, and gathered information.

If I was going to make my next move, I needed to know exactly what was happening in the North.

And what I learned only confirmed my suspicions.

✔ Ned Stark was still in Winterfell, though rumors hinted that King Robert Baratheon was considering him as the next Hand of the King.

✔ His household was stable, with his sons training daily in the yard and his wife, Catelyn, keeping a close watch over her children.

✔ Sansa Stark, the red-haired beauty I desired, was being groomed for a noble marriage.

That last fact irked me.

I needed to act fast before she was promised to some southern lord.

But patience was key. I couldn't just walk into Winterfell and claim her.

I had to earn a place within the castle, make myself valuable, make her notice me.

I needed to be more than just a sellsword.

And then, as I listened to a pair of traders in the market, I heard something that made my blood hum with interest.

The Bandit Threat

A bandit group had been terrorizing the roads leading to Winterfell.

✔ They weren't just common thieves—this was an organized, well-armed force striking trade caravans and isolated farms.

✔ Just last night, they killed a merchant's son, slitting his throat and stripping him bare.

✔ Lord Stark was preparing to send his men to hunt them down.

That was it.

My chance.