The Northern Tyrant [Game Of Thrones]

"What the fuck're you playing at?" Wenda asked with a snarl, bare underneath the soft quilt, sore between her legs after three days of non-stop womb battering shafting she had received. She had no complaints, she enjoyed it as much as the man. There was no doubt in her mind, she was going to be heavily pregnant soon.

Wylis looked behind as he sat at the edge of the tent's entrance. "Resting my feet."

"By burying them under dirt?"

"Why not?" Wylis replied and focused on his task. No, he wasn't resting his feet. The reason behind shoving his feet into the dirt and completely covering them in soil was to feel a better connection with Earth. He wanted to improve at Earthbending, and the best way to do so was to keep practicing.

But other than just manipulating dirt, he wanted to feel it. Since he was in the Westerlands, and he was going to travel around catching bandits, he wanted to scan the grounds and find any hidden gold mines. Since Lannisters were on the verge of drying up their mines in silence, he wanted to be prepared.

Sure, Tywin wouldn't even listen to him currently. He wasn't even a knight. Nor was he planning to meet and propose any plans. But knowing where the mines were would come in handy in the distant future. When he'd be higher in title, fatter in purse, bigger in his brood, and mightier in arms.

It won't be easy to make a Lannister give up some gold.

He closed his eyes and took a deep, calm breath before holding it. He ignored his beating heart, he muted his ears to all the noise. Then he felt it, the little vibrations under the dirt. Vibrations caused by his feet pulsing on their own.

Not enough range. Gotta keep training.

Other than some rocks and old bones, he didn't find anything else under his campsite. Still, it was a great way to practice.

For almost an hour, he trained his Earthbending. By the time he was done, the sun had once again sunk. It was their third night near Deep Den, and likely the last as they had decided to start hunting come morning.

But he wasn't one to waste the night.

"Alright, let's continue." He turned around and crawled back into the tent. He discarded the cloth he had tied around his waist, and then shoved away the quilt over Wenda, revealing her fantastic, utterly fucked body.

Those beautiful, small tits, and those wide hips, her toned belly, her pale face. Seeing her, it made sense why she was called White Fawn. She did have a really pale face and body. One he had turned red in too many spots to count, with his hands, lips, and cock.

"Again? Gods, are you even a human, Wylis? I can't even move." Wenda protested, clenching her plump thighs tighter. "I need rest."

"We have the entire night to rest, Wenda. Besides, it's our last night without any chaos." Wylis replied, and still shifted closer, and pulled apart her knees with ease. Looking down at the junction of her thighs, he was still mesmerized by her tight slit he had turned swollen. "Maybe one round, or two. I'll roast the duck I caught later."

Eventually, Wenda sighed and loosened her legs, letting the tall man glide over her and press his hardened cock against her pussy. It shocked her how hard he would get so often, it somewhat overwhelmed her, confusing if she was really that arousing.

"Fine, but don't expect me to move. I'm limp and sore—Do it yourself."

"Ah, do you like a toy of mine? With pleasure, Wenda—Just don't complain if I get a little rough…"

"Oh!"

Wenda moaned and gasped at the same time as his thick, veiny cock speared through her battered cunt. But she just wrapped her legs around his waist. Still, she couldn't get enough of his body, seemingly carved by gods. Her eyes never stopped eyeing his fine abs, or his chest, lats, obliques, shoulders—His body defied mortals and his cock…

"Mmmmh… You have… ruined… all cocks for me!"

She moanfully complained, worshiping that magnificent cock striking so deep she knew nothing else would ever come close again. She was shocked she even took him balls deep, but perhaps, he just shifted her insides and made space.

"Ungh! Ungh!"

The plaps, the slaps, the sloshing squelches soon echoed as the wild bullish man rutted her down into the bedding like she were a toy for his cock to plunder. There was nothing to do, nothing to react, just accept his plundering plunges with all she had as he pressed down on her.

When his lips came close, she claimed them herself. That heat was intoxicating. Sex, an unexciting thing in the past to her, was now the most erotic, arousing, and addicting joy she knew.

"Fu-ck… You… mad-man… I'm already… bred… by your fucking cock! How many more… times aaaaah!"

She just shut her mouth and kissed him. It was pointless to speak as he knocked the air out of her with each pillaging plunge into her love canal.

Grunts, moans, crackling of fire, breezy air, and a lot of musky scent.

The third night went by in heat and sweat despite the cold weather. The initial two planned rounds became four and then came some supper.

Sleep was quite relishing that evening. Tired, and satisfied, it was what they needed before the next day's journey.

####

Winterfell,

"Ugh… I don't feel good."

Lyanna dragged herself off her bed. No, it was Wylis' bed. Sometimes, she liked to sneak out of the castle and sleep in the single large room Wylis had made in the stables. She liked the scent of the room and that massive bed. By now, she had stopped thinking or questioning her thoughts.

She liked Wylis. She liked him a lot. It was a simple fact to her now.

But what she couldn't understand was the lethargic feeling every morning. The constant anger in her towards everyone around. She hated doing everything. She thought it was due to missing her best friend and her impending doom, her marriage.

She had taken some remedy from the Maester as well. But nothing helped her. So, she just decided to stay isolated and be with herself. Walk through the Godswood, or do something else.

That thickheaded brute… I should've joined him.

####

Slash!

"Catch!"

Splash!

"Gods damn you, Wylis! You daft goat! How many times do I gotta say it? Don't go lobbing heads at me like I'm some sack-cart! Look at me now—drenched in gore, thanks to your arse!"

Wylis smirked, standing in the middle of a large bandit camp, now ruined with a dozen headless bodies sprawled all over. The interesting bit was how each man had their feet stuck in the ground, though Wenda never noticed.

"It's alright, Wenda. You can just take a bath."

"Oh, I see you clear now! You want my clothes off so you can have another go. Gods, what runs in your fucking veins? Blood or just plain cum?" Wenda whinnied and walked away while cursing, finding a bucket to clean herself. "Don't you come my way!"

Wylis chuckled and started scooping up the skulls, preparing yet another sack. Having already swept through the northern regions of the Westerlands, now he was on his way south, heading towards Lannisport for good.

He initially wanted to get to Lannisport first. But the prospect of impregnating changed the plan. He wanted as much time as possible with Wenda to ensure she was bred properly and showed signs of pregnancy. And sure enough, she was already pregnant.

And that meant she had to relocate. Since a war would ravage most of the South, Wenda was expected to reach Winter Town in the North as it would remain untouched.

After packing the heads in a sack, Wylis found Wenda again, cleaning herself up in the large water tub the bandits had kept.

"Not today, Wylis."

He chuckled and stood beside the tub while she bathed naked. "I know, I know. Not doing anything. I'll head to Lannisport next. You know what that means?"

She stopped frowning. "I am to head to the North?"

"You are. And you'll live there, be fed, and bring the babe into the world in peace. I'll see to it you've got coin, enough to get there without fuss. We're not far from Riverrun—look for a caravan heading north. With Brandon Stark wedding the Tully girl soon, there's sure to be a few on the road." Wylis explained, as sternly as he could.

Wenda sighed and got out of the tub, fearless of her nudity. She wore clothes while chuckling. "Suppose I take your gold and piss off to the South—what then?"

"Not many women fit that look—big with child and wearing a scar bold as brass. Might be smart to heed my word. It's best for your life. A war is coming, and only the North will remain untouched."

"Hah!" Wenda chortled. "What do you know of war? You're just a stableboy with a blade and a fat cock to boast."

"Appreciate the kind words," he said with a crooked grin, clearly pleased but in no rush to talk more. He fished a small pouch from the worn bag slung over his shoulder and passed it over. "Ten Dragons, fifty Stags, and a few copper bits. Plenty to get you to Winter Town. The rest will be waiting there. Ask for a woman named Ros, works in a brothel. She owes me a favor—or two."

"Oh? Friends with a whore?"

"Shouldn't be surprising. Just a stableboy with a fat cock, no?"

Wenda giggled and took the pouch from him, all dressed up. But then, she got closer to Wylis and gave him a quick hug. "I'll not see you again, gods willing. You're bad for me and my womb. Once the babe's out, I'm gone, and that's that."

"So sure already?"

"You're just a lad with dreams too big for his breeches, Wylis. Ambition like that'll have your guts spilling on a muddy road. I don't care if you get yourself killed—but I'd sooner not be the fool left mopping up after your mess."

Probably won't say the same once I get the noble titles.

"Fair enough. If that's the road you're walking, I'll see a thousand Gold Dragons in your hand when you go. Just do me a favor—leave thieving behind. You're fucking shit at it."

Wenda scoffed in anger. "I was doing fine until you showed up."

"Exactly. I'm young, and I'll be around—If I catch you again, you'll give me another babe."

"Fuck off, you rutting goat!"

Wylis just laughed and walked with her to their horses. He rather enjoyed her company. Her humor, her unrestrained mouth. She was as real a company as it could get.

Soon, she was packed and ready to depart to the North. Wylis handed her some dried meat for her travels. "I'll send a Maester over to you soon. He'll watch over your health. He's a little unhinged, but he's extremely talented."

"A Maester? What's next? You'll say the King will suckle your cock or something?"

"..."

That mere suggestion made his hair stand on end. He hadn't forgotten that ominous Tyrant's Squire notification.

"He wore the chains once, aye. Until the Citadel cast him out. Not your concern anymore. Doesn't matter now. Go on, keep your wits, and stay alive."

Pa!

He smacked on Wenda's horse and sent her trotting away.

Finally, he climbed Caliburn's back and headed South alone, towards Lannisport.

Hope Lannisters won't be assholes.

He had rejected House Lannister's offer during the tourney, after all. They had offered to make him a landed knight like the Cleganes. But it was an indirect offer to put a leash around his neck.

Meeting Cersei will be interesting though.

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