[BONUS] Winter Comes Pt. 3 (GoT SI) (Patreon)

How long do you think it might have taken for the Night's Watch to get to its... thirteenth commander? More than a hundred years at least, but close to two hundred? close to three hundred? less than two hundred? Let me know! I'm leaning towards making it two hundred years but I'm wondering how realistic that might be. 200 divided by 13 would be 15-ish years per Commander. In a world like Westeros, that might be too generous...

-x-X-x-  

Long, sharp nails dug into my back hard enough to draw blood. Rivulets of purple ichor slipped free of my flesh even as I snarled and returned the favor by biting deeply into a shoulder. Lyanna Stark let out a cry at that, though it was not filled with negative emotion. Instead, she simply dug in all the harder and continued to drive her hips up into my thrusting cock, her legs wrapped around my waist.

The white haired female Walker stared at me with her glowing blue eyes, hate filling every fiber of her being. But beyond that hate was desire and lust, which I imagined was mirrored in my own gaze as we fucked in the snow. The cold did not bother ones such as us and neither did the winds. There was no need for furs or fire or even a roof over our heads. 

We fucked like animals, rough and savage. Lyanna gave as good as she got, biting me back and raking her claws down my spine to my toned blue ass, shifting her legs down a bit so her hands could reach. Then she used her new found grip on my buttocks to force me into her deeper, my throbbing hard cock slamming home into her slick wet passage with great force.

We were both panting by this point, our breath coming out shortly as neither of us seemed willing to back down. This was how every fuck was with the wild dire wolf woman I’d turned into my Queen. This was how every encounter was with her as well, because every encounter was just another chance to fuck. Again and again I thrust into her and again and again her hips rose to meet me.

My hands were on either side of her head, but as we continued, I slid one down and grabbed hold of one of her breasts, giving the soft tit flesh a caress and then a harsh squeeze. All I got from her mouth was a grunt, but her lower lips told a different story, squeezing harder around my pistoning shaft as I played with her chest. My lips curl into a half-snarl, half-smile as I take my other hand to her opposite breast as well. Using her tits as handholds, I’m none gentler with them then she is with me.

Both of us are covered in bites and scratches from our hour’s long play. Both of us are unwilling to back down even as we draw more blood while at the same time extracting mutual pleasure from one another. The vicious fucking ends as it always does. With my seed spilling into her womb and her cunt clenching down hard enough to hold me there, even as her legs do the same.

She cries out one last time, but it’s more of a howl then a cry as I throw my head back and do the same. We shout our releases to the frozen land all around us, coming to a mutual climax despite there being no true bond between us, beyond the one I forced upon her when I technically bound her to my will. Her grip on me weakens, both her inner walls and her legs going slack as she lies back in the snow, her chest heaving. I slide from her and stand up, my cock already softening as we stare at each other in silence.

After a moment, Lyanna Stark simply snarls and stands, pulling on her clothing from where its strewn all around us and walking away with a slight limp in her step. I watch my ‘Queen’ go in silence for a brief second before moving to get dressed myself. It’s not actually necessary, the clothing, but it’s a holdover from both our lives, hers from before I turned her, and mine from before I became this monster I am now. The cold may not affect us… both we both keep our modesty regardless.

-x-X-x-

As Lyanna and I parted, I couldn’t help a rueful smile spreading across my face.

A hundred years later, my Queen and I still weren’t on speaking terms, despite partaking in certain physical activities together damn near every day. Hate sex is a hell of a drug though and there came a point where Lyanna realized that the Children of the Forest had been partially right. I was the only intelligent White Walker. Watching her leave was always a treat and I did so now, until she was fully out of sight, today’s tryst over and done with.

My sentience and the loneliness of the frozen north didn’t seem to stop the woman I’d chosen as my Queen from snubbing me at practically every turn, but it did seem to be where she drew the line when it came to fornication. That is to say, when she got the itch, she didn’t go to my kin because they had nothing to offer her. I on the other hand, did. Still, our relationship was quite violent. Lyanna stretched the limits of the bond that kept her from truly doing me harm and I let her, actively enjoying the pain and disobedience and willfulness that practically nothing else in the Land of Always Winter showed me.

Oh sure, there were the great beasts that made the frozen land their home. Direwolves and shadowcats and snow bears were all foolish enough to attack me if they saw me, while giants would defend their territory if they felt it was infringed upon. I’d actually ended up riding a nice big hulking snow bear into battle during the Long Night, the first creature I’d come across on my way south from the mountain where I and my kin had awoken.

But it had died at the final battle of the War for the Dawn, laid low at the Fist of the First Men by obsidian tipped arrows. I’d run, not wishing for one of those to find my heart. I would always miss Snowy. But he lived on in spirit… after a fashion. Turning around, I stepped over to where Snowy 3.0 sat patiently waiting for me.

… Don’t ask what happened to Snow 2.0. We don’t talk about that. 

Grunting, I slide myself up onto the massive undead snow bear’s back and urge him onwards with my mind. We move in the opposite direction of Lyanna. She has her business to attend to, while I have mine. And today my business will be quite interesting indeed. A slow grin spreads across my inhuman face as I ride on towards my destination. This should be fun.

-x-X-x-

Rogund was petrified. How could he not be? No matter the strength of one’s arm, none could stand against this foe and live. The stories told by the elders were clear. To face a White Walker was to face death itself. And yet, here Rogund stood, alive and well but surrounded by not one, but ten of the monstrous, mysterious creatures.

Well, stood was a bit of an exaggeration. He was on his knees, he just liked to pretend he wasn’t and that those encircling him in silence were merely extremely tall. He’d like to have stood up and they may have even let him… but his legs were shaking beneath his frozen ass and Rogund knew that if he tried to rise to his feet, he would merely fall again. Best to kneel and await his death with some small measure of comfort and dignity.

At least they were inside. Rogund didn’t know why they’d come for him here specifically, but it seemed pretty clear that they had. TEN White Walkers standing in his hut? The man had honestly thought it a nightmare at first. He still hoped it was, but as time went by and everything continued to feel incredibly real, including the biting pain of the cold barely held back by the wall surrounding them, Rogund knew this was no dream.

The door to his hut suddenly opened, utterly destroying his concentration. Rogund looked to the door, as did the ten silent monsters guarding him. It was another White Walker, but Rogund didn’t have to be learned to see there was something different about this one. No hair for one, no white beard. This one was clean shaven and instead of hair atop his head, there were horns in a circle along his brow and around his entire head.

Rogund looked into this White Walkers eyes and saw something that scared him all the more as the creature stepped towards him and did something that no story had ever prepared the man for. The White Walker spoke.

“Greetings.”

What was he to say to that?

“M-Mornin’.”

Probably not that, but if anything the White Walker actually looked terrifyingly amused rather than upset or angry. Another step closer and Rogund was shivering with dread now.

“You know us, yes?”

This time, no words came. Rogund settled for sharply nodding his head up and down instead as the White Walker drew closer still. This seemed to satisfy the speaker, but then he asked another question.

“Do you know me?”

Rogund wished he could have said yes. Despite being a monster straight from an icy hell, the man felt like he could get a read on this White Walker, but only partially. He wasn’t sure if the being before him WANTED to be recognized or not. But he knew the cost of being caught in a lie was more than likely not good for his health. So he jerkily shook his head from side to side.

“Ah. Perhaps that is a good thing. No… misconceptions. What is your name?”

This whole experience was far too surreal for Rogund. But he’d gotten this far. If the creature was making small talk with him, perhaps it was not intending to end his life? He just had to keep it happy and each second he did so was another one he got to keep breathing in the cold harsh air.

“R-Rogund… “

That seemed to please the White Walker, if the way his brow rose and his lips curled was any indication.

“Oh? Rogund? Very good Rogund, very good. I am the Night King. I command the White Walkers you see before you and dare I say it; I command every one that walks in the snows north of you. We are many… and while the Long Night has ended, the only thing that can stop us is the Wall that those in the North created to keep us out. But you’re not behind the Wall, are you Rogund?”

The answer to that was clear and it was obvious this Night King wanted a response. Rogund frantically shook his head back and forth yet again, his breath coming out a little shorter as a not-so-nice smile spread across the White Walker’s face.

“No, no you are not. But do not fret. I shall put you under my protection, so that the direwolves and shadowcats and snow bears do not kill you and consume your flesh.”

Rogund wanted to say something about how he wasn’t actually afraid of those beasts. But he was also smart enough to understand the underlying meaning behind the Night King’s words. He knew what his response needed to be, despite being an uncultured savage. As one of the first Free Folk to build himself an actual home rather than live in a cave, Rogund had unknowingly drawn the attention of those currently surrounding him. He’d made himself stand out and as they say, the tallest blade of grass gets cut down first. Not that Rogund would have ever heard that saying.

“I-I t-thank you.”

“I thank you, Your Grace.”

A correction, obviously. Rogund didn’t truly understand the meaning of the two words, but he knew how to parrot to save his hide.

“I-I thank you… y-your Grace.”

“Well done. You may stand.”

Oh dear. Rogund still wasn’t sure he could. But the look on the Night King’s face brooked no argument and so the man made the effort. Slowly but surely, he stood under the watchful glowing blue eyes of eleven White Walkers. He shook and shivered and shuddered, but he stayed on his feet thankfully. The Night King’s smile grew another fraction and he reached out, grabbing hold of Rogund’s shoulders. Rogund froze up, eyes wide as he believed this to be the moment he died. But his demise never came.

“Wonderful, wonderful. I knew you could do it Rogund. Now, we’ll have to see about getting you a woman. Can’t start a family without that now can you? Tell me, did you have your eye on one already? I see you made this hut big enough for more than one and I’ve watched you through the eyes of my wight as you stock up far more food than one man could ever eat before it goes bad.”

The Night King continued to ramble on and on as he wrapped a frozen arm around Rogund’s shoulders and began to guide the man around his hut, asking this and that. Rogund did his best to answer, but he was in a sort of stupefied shock over just how… WRONG the White Walker was compared to the stories. 

Eventually, he simply couldn’t take it anymore and stopped dead, causing the Night King to turn to him with a frown on his face. Regardless of the fact that that frown made him want to piss himself on the spot, Rogund asked the question he couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“W-what do you want from me?! … Y-Your Grace.”

He tacked on the last two words when the White Walker gave him a look. The Night King nodded approvingly and then paused for a second before answering him.

“What do I want from you? Your loyalty I suppose. The loyalty of your mate, whenever you finally take one. The loyalty of your children and their children and their children’s children. Rogund, I want you to serve me faithfully, and in return I will make you a god among men. I offer you those you beget protection until the end of your line, but if your loyalty is pure, I offer one more thing as well.”

“A-and what is that?”

The Night King’s smile turns positively terrifying as he shows off rows of sharpened teeth and his glowing blue eyes seem to swirl with malevolent intent.

“For your faithful service, Rogund of nowhere, I offer you a chance at eternal life.”

Rogund stared in silence for a long moment and then for the first time since all this had begun, his nearly frozen lips cracked open into a lopsided grin.

“W-Well that doesn’t seem s-so bad?”

Rather than take offense, the Night King actually laughed, both startling Rogund and ultimately putting him just a little more at ease as the White Walker slapped his back hard enough to knock him forward a couple steps but not to the ground, thankfully.

“No! No I’m sure it really doesn’t!”

As the Night King continued to laugh, Rogund nervously joined in even as he straightened up and moved to brush himself off. That’s when he came face to face with the mangled face of an undead snow bear. The beast’s glowing blue eyes gazed right into his own brown pupils and then the snow bear roared loudly. It was just too much for the poor man. Rogund screamed like a girl and then promptly fainted on the spot.

-x-X-x-

I stared down at the passed out form of what would hopefully be the first of many, MANY human followers. I was going for the long con here, but that didn’t mean I sat on my laurels and waited eight thousand years. I wanted to subvert the Wildlings entirely, maybe even try to get a few of them through the Wall to act as my eyes and ears over the centuries and millennia to come.

Still… I look up into the face of my undead snow bear. The beast shouldn’t have been able to do that without my say so and unless my subconscious is playing tricks on me, I didn’t tell it to roar. Frowning severely, I give Snowy 3.0 a harsh glare. The undead beast doesn’t even react. Fucking snow bears I swear to god…

Letting out a sigh, I gesture to two of my White Walkers. They carry Rogund back inside and tuck him in so the dumb bastard doesn’t freeze to death. We’ll leave for now and come back later to make sure he’s on the path to that family I asked him about. Can’t grow a cult without children to indoctrinate after all. A smile spread across my inhuman face at my own bit of dark humor. After making sure Rogund was properly put away, I hopped back on Snowy 3.0’s back and we meandered away from the lone hut, nestled as it was among a copse of trees.

I found myself wondering after Lyanna. What was it she was doing right now? I could have looked if I wanted… but I didn’t want to. Every other creature I was bonded to acted as my eyes and ears, but Lyanna was supposed to be different. She WAS different. I hadn’t expected her to retain her free will when I turned her, but I’d still wanted her to have some agency as my Queen. I’d gotten more than I’d bargained for on that front, but I was happy with it.

Still, whatever could she be up to? There truly wasn’t much to do in the Land of Always Winter.

-x-X-x-

Sending away the White Walker torturing the Child was always a chore for Lyanna Stark. Every time she did it, she expected that THIS would be the time that the Night King, infantile child that he had turned out to be, would be looking through the walker’s eyes, playing with the last remaining Child of the Forest they held in captivity. 

But no, just like the other times, the White Walker merely left when she ordered it, leaving her alone with the one called Leaf. Neither of them liked each other very much, but Lyanna still brought the cup of half-frozen water to the weak and drained Child’s lips and Leaf still drank greedily as best she could, one eye swollen shut and the other wide open and staring at her visitor, her emotions concealed as they always were.

Once Lyanna was done letting the Child drink, she pulled the cup back and sat down right there on the ground before the bound wood nymph.

“Leaf.”

“Lyanna Stark. Still your own woman?”

The female White Walker shrugged.

“As far as I can tell.”

And hadn’t that been a chore, convincing the Child that she wasn’t the Night King’s mindless slave. Even now, Lyanna was fairly certain that Leaf was just humoring her, assuming that everything they discussed was actually a chat with the leader of the White Walkers. She watched as Leaf’s one good eye trailed over her visible skin. Leaf’s lips curled in disgust.

“You were with him again. I can smell it. I can see it.”

A sticking point between the two of them. Lyanna just smirked, shrugging her shoulders expressively.

“I was, I won’t deny it. It was of my own free will though and I gave as good as I got. I took what I wanted. An… equivalent exchange, isn’t that what you call it?”

If anything, Leaf looked even more disgusted by Lyanna’s use of HER words to describe what she and the Night King did. Still, they’d have this conversation before. Leaf moved past it, as Lyanna expected her to.

“What do you want Lyanna Stark?”

“The same thing I always want Child of the Forest. To be free. Tell me how to break this curse, tell me how to regain my humanity.”

Leaf laughed and ultimately choked and coughed as a result, her slight chest heaving as she tried to recover. Lyanna watched in silence, no sympathy in her glowing blue eyes. Finally, Leaf was composed enough to answer her once more.

“There is no freedom because there is no curse. The transformation to White Walker is permanent, not based in temporary curse. You have been remade, inside and out by his touch. It does not make sense that you remain intelligent enough to hold these conversations with me, but the truth is before my eyes. You are a White Walker Lyanna Stark. A weapon we should never have created, to fight a war we didn’t need to wage. This is your fate.”

With a snarl, Lyanna got to her feet and reared back, smacking Leaf across the face. This sent the Child of the Forest spinning away from her. The short wood nymph was suspended from the ceiling by chains, and her small bare feet scrabbled against the ground as she tried to regain her footing. Eventually she did and turned back to face a heavily breathing Lyanna Stark. 

The female White Walker glared at the captive Child in silence for a long moment before snarling out another question.

“How do I break the bond?!”

“Death.”

Leaf’s answer is immediate, a sense of finality in that sole word she utters. Lyanna growls, not liking the answer.

“I’ve told you before; I cannot kill him, no matter how hard I try. It’s like there’s a block. The only damage I can cause him is superficial in nature and even that is only possible because he allows me, I can sense it. I can sense him, always at the back of my mind, always lurking. It’s how I know he does not take liberties, but the knowledge that he could is enough of a yoke around my neck to want it GONE. So tell me, how do I break this bond?!”

The Child of the Forest hangs for a moment as if deciding what she should say. When Leaf finally does speak, it’s in a tired, exhausted tone. This is a being that has lost everything, that has been brought low by her own creations. Leaf’s people are dead, in part because of her. And her voice makes it clear that she knows it, as she explains how Lyanna could be free.

“I was not talking about him. I speak of you. Death is your freedom, Lyanna Stark. Death is the only way you will escape his grasp. Of course, if he were to die, so would you and all of the other White Walkers. If you COULD find a way to kill him, not only would you be free through death, you would end the threat your kind poses forever. He is the lynchpin.”

This is not the answer Lyanna wants to hear, even if it is incredibly valuable information. Rather than snarl some more, or rage some more, or strike Leaf yet again, the female White Walker turns icy in her silence. There’s a beat and then the involuntary Queen of the White Walkers spins on her heel and leaves the makeshift dungeon behind. 

Leaf has but a moment of respite before her torturer returns, the mindless monster she helped to create walking back into the cave with untampered malice in his glowing blue eyes. The Child can’t help the involuntary whimper that leaves her throat as he approaches. She longs for death, but they will not give it to her. The Night King sees to her continued existence personally, despite decades having passed since her fellows were allowed to die, one by one.

She may very well be the last remaining Child of the Forest by this point. Leaf hopes she isn’t. She knows the Wall went up with greenseer magic on its foundations. The thought that a handful of her people still exist south of that great barrier gives her a hope that has yet to be extinguished. But as the pain begins again, that hope dims ever so slightly, the fire in her soul flickering and growing infinitesimally smaller with each passing moment. It takes the White Walker five minutes to manage it, but eventually Leaf breaks and her mouth opens as she screams in agony from his none-to-tender ministrations.

A hundred years into her penance, Leaf feels like she’s just gotten started making up for the monstrosities her actions unleashed.