Blackheart (GoT, Witcher, DC)

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***

Damian Blackheart.

For the third week now, I've been staying at Castle Black, doing all sorts of petty things.

Well, as small things, more like less important things than ruling the state and training my army. I already have quite a large army. I was most pleased with the Tenns, they are a savage people, but incredibly disciplined. The best part of the situation is that I dueled with their magnate and killed him. After that, in some sort of council, they elected me as their magnate. Which means I'm more than just a king to them, almost like a god. That's how they feel about their leader, but when we had a ritual duel with the late magnate, we had to eat his body. Good thing it was in the woods, and I ordered the Tennae to keep quiet about what I'd seen. Though it was disgusting to eat that carcass, I wasn't the only one who'd eaten him. But I got my own after that, because the Tenns are very fierce warriors and disciplined, so those eight hundred Tenn fighters who joined my army were not just the fastest and accepted new weapons and battle tactics without question. And at times I even caught instances of some Tennes beating other wildlings for sluggishness in training, wailing that they were dishonouring their magnate.

Giants don't need much in the way of training, so they just help with repairs.

Mance, aka Geralt of Rivia is now more preoccupied with his wife and newborn son, and instead helps Daren, Berrik, Jon, Mendon Moore, and Emmon Q train the wildlings of Tormund. He has a knack for finding the right words, and more often than not, he's the one who can scold the wildlings to get them to take in the information better.

Things were a little more difficult with the spearmen, of whom I already had three and a half thousand. Both my boys and the sentries were hungry for feminine charms, and they didn't mind, as they say, getting to know the wildling ladies better. Where it was consensual, I didn't stop it, but where they tried to forcibly assault MY wildlings, I cut off their balls and made them eat the guilty party in front of the whole castle, which included sentries and my old men and wildlings.

Not that I'm against rape, in general, I just don't want unnecessary conflict in the army that would cause unnecessary fermentation.

There have been plenty of curiosities with these spearwomen, though. To begin with, when I was sworn in by a witch-warrior named Morna White Mask, she said: "I swear to be your warrior, and if you want to be your woman or man!". I just nodded as a sign that I heard her, but I was a bit scared, because if with a woman I understood the hint, but with a man... I don't want to get a strapon in my ass, she has a mask made of white chartreuse, I don't want to have the same aggregate made of such a noble wood in me. I understand that in the North charwood is a noble material, but it doesn't make my arse feel any better. So I sent her to a neighbouring castle, out of harm's way.

Next, a few spearwomen, probably having heard the rumours wandering among my men about Loras' preferences, decided that he was a girl and wanted to be friends with him, even offered to go with him for a steam bath. But he refused, and the funny thing is that Tormund's son wanted to "steal" him, because he thought Loras was just a warrior... a pretty young warrior, prettier than many wildlings. Until Loras showed him his cock, he didn't believe he was a man.

Brienne was the opposite, at first some wildlings took her for a man and made eyes at her. That was until she went to the baths with them and they were convinced she was a woman. A couple of wildlings did look at her, though....

Jon wasn't touched, as he was smarter than even Loras, but had managed to grow a beard and moustache, almost like the serial Kit Harrington. So he didn't get harassed about it.

There were a lot of funny situations, but these are the ones I remember the most.

Now I was remembering all this and reading the scrolls I'd taken from Eamon Targaryen from the Watch library. I was reading in my chambers in the King's Tower, about the battles of the Night's Watch of the past, as well as various ancient stories and myths.

It was about midnight when I was disturbed by a guard who told me that the Wildling commander was here to see me.

I'd talked to her a few times, she was an interesting person, she was sort of a "princess", but she had no real power among the wildlings on a political level. She was just the commander of Mance's large spear squad. But she has commanding acumen and strength. She's also very beautiful. I don't know if Dalla and Vel are from the Westlands, specifically the Lannisters, but they are true Aryans. Blonde-haired and blue-eyed, Dalla is a little shorter by about half a head and has gained a little weight due to childbirth, while Vel looks after herself with the help of training and active lifestyle, she is also a very good archer. In fact, every other wildling is a good archer, that's just the way life goes.

And now I saw Vel in a battle outfit of thick, warm cloth, fur, and scaly armour. If it weren't for the orders I have in place, I would have seen her here with a dagger and short sword at her side, a throwing axe behind her.

A little shorter than me, clear blue eyes that now looked at me with interest, hope, and my favourite - fear. Her hair was braided into a tight braid that was thrown in front of her, reaching down to her navel. Her skin was as pale as any "true northerner," as she liked to call herself and the other wildlings. Slender but long and strong fingers crossed in front of her. She assumed a submissive posture and stared at me in silence.

- Didn't you have something you wanted to say to Vel? - I began, after a moment's silence, the conversation itself. - The sentry told me that you were the one who wanted to talk to me.

- That's so Magnar...

- Better my lord. Let the Tennae call me Magnar. I am still a lord and even Hand of our Queen Shireen.

- Yes, my lord. - she nodded. - I wanted to talk to you. Or rather, to propose something.

- What is it? - I set the scroll aside and lifted myself off the large double bed so I could look straight into Vel's eyes.

- Myself! - She answered me, looking me straight in the eye with a smile. And then she continued. - You are a great warrior, a lord, and now a magnate of the Tenns. And you have your lands, people and influence in the south. I want to live well, cosy, nourished and have strong children.

- My goodness. - I snorted. - What's it got to do with me? Why do I need you? I won't marry you, you're a wildling, without family and influence in the south. I need a wife with certain characteristics, if you know that word.

- I'm no fool and I know you won't take me as your lawful wife by the customs of the Seven Kingdoms. But I can be your woman, your mistress.

- Both of the late magnate's daughters wanted to be mine the same day I killed their father. One I fucked right there in the woods, not far from her father's body. The other I fucked for a couple of days and gave her to Tormund as a token of friendship. And you know, I have no remorse because they've become practically my property. I take care of my men, they're MY men and I'm responsible for them, just as they are to me. If you become my woman, you'll get a lot, but you'll be asked more. - I explained to her. - You'll be completely at my mercy. If I want, I'll fuck you every day, if I want, I'll give you to someone else if you get bored or useless. And if you disappoint me, or betray me, you'll find paradise in the service of the Other. But let's get back to the main question - why do I need you?

She stood for a while, looking me straight in the eye, and then began to remove her half-armour and clothes. And very soon she appeared before me in her mother's clothes, and then I saw that she had a little more than a third size of breasts, and buttocks like a Brazilian woman, I mean the same: appetising, firm and rounded.

- Come here. - I patted the edge of the bed.

She obediently, and silently, followed my command and settled down next to me.

Her sensual, slightly weathered lips were slightly open and beckoned to me. Still, she's good looking, damn it. Even prettier than Cersei, somehow. So I didn't hold back and grabbed the back of her head and pulled her to me and kissed her. She kissed me back immediately.

I wasn't her first, of course, but apparently kissing wasn't a favourite with the wildlings, so I was practically teaching her how to kiss.

In a few minutes we were caressing each other's bodies, but I was still wearing my trousers, and first through them and then slipping her hand into my trousers, Vel began to finger my cock, and then, after I pulled her away from my lips and put my hand on the top of her head, she lowered herself between my legs and began to pleasure me with her mouth.

Soon she freed me from my trousers, and immediately started caressing my head with her tongue, running it round and round. She was teasing me, getting me hot. Finally, lastly, she ran her tongue from the base to the head, she completely immersed my cock in her mouth, making progressive up and down movements with her tongue on the head, she was giving a lot of pleasure.

When she had fully engulfed my cock, she began to move her head rhythmically, and was able to lick the head as well. This continued for a few minutes until I cum in her mouth and she swallowed all my seed. She was staring at me with her perky eyes.

Still staring at me, she lifted herself up a little higher and sat on my pelvis. And then, guiding my cock into her bosom, she lowered herself onto it with a groan.

I groaned as well, taking pleasure in this woman's actions.

She knew what he needed and used it skilfully. Until then, I had thought only Dornish women were skilled at it. But the wildlings don't seem to be monks either. That's good.

After a long time of pleasure, I came in her womb. So did Vel. The excitement of the evening kept us both going.

After a couple of minutes, a little out of breath, I rolled her over onto her back on the soft featherbed. She pulled my head to hers with both hands and buried her lips in mine. Then she wrapped her legs around my torso and locked them together, swivelling her hips at my sides, forcing my cock to rise again.

Wrapping my hands around her lush breasts, I kneaded them, starting to penetrate her womb, making her cry out a little painfully at the roughness and sloppiness. I liked to have it rough, there was something about it. I guess I am a beast as Obara called me, I am not always fond of tenderness and prefer to give someone rather pain mixed with pleasure, alas, but I am selfish in nature.

- M-milord! W-please slow down. - she moaned, writhing in a little pain.

I decided to listen to her and began to move a little slower, later increasing the speed gradually. Soon, Vel herself was asking me to move faster with her hips, getting into my rhythm. I began to thrust furiously into the bed, caressing her nipples, licking and biting them in turn, occasionally interrupted by kisses, while she scratched my back with her nails until it bled.

At one point she arched under me and cried out loudly, and her bosom gripped my cock even harder. She cummed again. Soon after a couple of dozen thrusts, I cum too.

Rising from the bed, I went to the table where there was a decanter of wine and poured both her and myself a drink.

- Thank you, my lord. - and accepted the goblet from my hands. - Have I passed your test? - and began to tousle her braid.

- Hmm. In principle, yes. You are mine now.

- I hope I can spend nights like this in your company more often, my lord.

- Well, you're staying here tonight. It was only a little test, after all. And now..." I set aside the cup I'd drunk. - ...you will learn the proper way to give me pleasure.

***

The night with Vel was good. I'd got the tension out of my system and I was floating in the morning, that's what good sex with girls does to men, but Vel seemed to be still sleeping it off, but fuck her. As long as I have other things to worry about besides this broad.

I've been up for an hour now, inspecting my men at Castle Black. Most of the damage has already been repaired, and my men have even repaired some of the areas that were damaged by the stagnation. Mormont and Bowen Marsh have even brightened up at the fact that they've had a free "Euro-repair".

Another week and we'll be heading south again. I'd had those thoughts yesterday, and after a messenger had just arrived with a dispatch from Rex by sea, along with Saan's new additional ships to the Eastern Watch, and from there to here, I was sure I wouldn't have to stay here for long. I helped the Night's Watch as much as I could, and they got more than a hundred and fifty extra volunteers, as well as weapons, repaired castles, and funds of all sorts, including money.

In the dispatch, Rex detailed what he knew about enemy troop movements, negotiations, and the latest news in the territory under our control.

To begin with, Baelon is thinking of attacking the West. I don't know if he's attacked the Riverlands and the North at the same time, but Tywin can't miss the fact that he's taken five fortresses and tried to take Lannisport. He needs to send reinforcements, which he did by sending Daven Lannister with ten thousand foot soldiers. Robb seems to be doing well in the north-west of the Westlands and has captured a number of fortresses. The Riverlands seem quiet, but Varick has encountered isolated bands of Tully and Tywin vassals. The Tyrells are sitting quietly for now, but spies report that there's a dispute going on between Mace and Oleanna over "where to go?". His mother, Gods be good to her, tells him not to worry and just wait, because two of his sons and even some of his vassals are in captivity. And Mace is thinking of agreeing to Tywin's proposal that Margaery and Joffrey marry. We've heard nothing from Littlefinger, we've been ignored by the Vale and the rest of the world as usual. Rex reports that Celisa is thinking, thanks to Massey, of marrying Shireen off to Mace's eldest son, or at the very least to Quentin Martell. It's a sensible idea, but it's not certain anyone will agree.

Stafford Lannister attempted to seize a number of strongholds in the Stormlands, but was beaten back by a dashing knightly raid led by Lord Buckler. Even unconfirmed reports seem to suggest that Stafford is dead. Tywin himself is sitting in King's Landing and not in a hurry to go anywhere in person just yet. It's a shame, he could do with being taken out now, I suppose, although Rex reported that he's tried to take out Petyr and Varys, but so far those attempts have been unsuccessful. He assured me, however, that the Faceless Ones would not take orders from us. Our grandfather pulled some strings here, as he decided to come to Dragonstone for his own purposes. But he brought some gold, for support. I wonder how much is a little? I hope a lot. We certainly have money, though not in the quantities of the Lannisters, but it's never too much.

Our forces have grown a bit, mostly mercenaries, of course, but there have been lords from the Vale who have sworn oaths to us. In fact, all the major lords here and that Fassoway clan who knighted between the rivers Zybka and Mander are ours now. And the Tyrells aren't doing anything yet. Though it seems 250 or even let's say 300 miles from Sidrhall to Highgarden.

And the latest news is that at the time the dispatch was sent to me an army of five thousand Northmen were preparing to sail to Sigard to "knock" me out of the North, the ungrateful bastards. Fuck them, though, I'm pretty sure the North is going to add to those sheep, but they're not going to act on their own. They'll gather in a bunch and then move on me.

Well, so far so good. We'll be out of here in time. I don't want to fight the Northmen yet, especially not on their territory. We moved a third of the wildlings south a fortnight ago. The two flotillas should have met about halfway. Now some of our ships that were still in the East Watch have completed repairs and will be able to load up on men as well. Plus Saan's fleet, so we can ferry at least as many as last time.

- Lord Hand? - John called out to me.

- What's wrong, Jon? - I smiled at him, tucking the dispatch into my inside pocket.

- Can we talk? In private.

- Yeah, I'm free right now anyway. Let's go.

I wonder what he wants to talk about?

He had the Long Claw on his belt, a Mormon family heirloom. Gior took it for himself after his son fled, after the slavers' scandal. And now, after saving the Watch and Gior's life, the old man had decided to give this sword to Jon. He had refused to give it to Jon, but Gior had nearly punched Jon in the face for refusing and had actually handed the sword to him by force.

Well, he'll need a Valyrian steel sword.

Maybe I should look for a sword made of that noble steel. I have a dagger, but no sword - no order.

We went back to Bogoroschu and sat down in front of the chard tree, John was a little nervous and rubbed his beard.

- Speak up. You don't want to be nervous. Tell it like it is.

- You can legitimise someone, can't you, or give title and lands if you have to? You're the Hand and Queen Celisa will listen to you, won't she?

Look where he's going with this. Does he want to be a legitimate Stark?

- You want to be a legitimate Stark? - I couldn't contain my surprise. - I didn't think you'd be the first to bring it up. I thought Celisa would offer to legitimise you. But as it happens, I think it's easy to do.

- You misunderstood me. - John shook his head. - Iggrit.

- Wait!" I stopped him immediately. - I think I see where you're going with this....

I guess I missed the point. I knew, of course, that Yggrit survived and was captured, and from captivity into bed with John, who had a crush on her, but I thought it was just a crush and that he wanted to marry her.

- Jon, Ygritte is a hot girl, and I can understand that. I've had the wildling queen's sister warming my bed today, and the daughters of the late magnate before her. Fuck anything that moves, there's nothing wrong with that. I'll tell you more than that, fuck any woman, man or woman, I won't say a word. But get married. Don't be silly, John.

- But I love her!

- I love a lot of people too, but I'll have to marry for profit and reason, to keep my lands and fortify my position and perhaps increase it all. There are some things that are beyond our control, such as our birth.

- I'm a bastard! Albeit a knight. Ygritte loves me and will make a good wife, she's true to her word. Who cares who I marry but the royal court's sycophants?

- Believe me, they will. And it's not about the royal court, Selisa. No. It's about you.

- Why?! - John almost shouted, clenching his fists.

- Your background isn't as bad as you might think. I'm considered Walder Frey's bastard, but to my kin in Braavos, I'm the rightful representative of their family, which is older than the Daines and Starks. My surname Blackheart comes from their family name. But for Westeros, due to public opinion and belief in the Seven, I was a bastard. Public opinion and politics have played tricks on you. You're not a bastard, you're the legitimate son of your parents. You are not Ned Stark's son--you are the son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, the fruit of their love that was conceived in marriage, and your uncle tried to save you from Robert's wrath by passing you off as his bastard instead of a Targaryen heir. You are not a pathetic bastard, as Theon Greyjoy or Catelyn Stark might call you, you are a Targaryen! You are the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms.

There was a sepulchral silence, Jon just looked at me helplessly, not believing what I said, and then tears started running down his cheeks ...

To be continued...