The Shadow of Winterfell Chapter 2

Bran Stark

Winterfell was more busy than ever before. At least, it was more busy than Bran had ever seen it. Guards and men-at-arms seemed to be everywhere, with constant patrols around the castle and grounds that made it even more difficult for him to climb parts of the castle unnoticed.

His mother had ordered the guards to pull him down if they saw him climbing, taking away his fun, but Bran still managed to find a way around it. He began climbing in the older sections of Winterfell, the parts that were abandoned and in disrepair. Those sections saw few visitors, and fewer guards were stationed there, making it the best place to climb unnoticed.

It also came with more risks. The castle wasn’t as sturdy in the older sections, with loose stones and entire walls and towers ready to give way. It made his climbing more of a challenge, but it was one Bran was willing to take on.

He braced his left foot against part of the wall that was uneven, his right hand grasping a nearby hole in the wall. Bran moved his left hand upwards to grasp an older stone that stuck out of the wall, and held it tightly as he heaved his body upwards.

But that was when disaster struck, and Bran gasped as the stone he was holding came loose. It came tumbling out of the wall before he could react, and his body fell with it down towards the ground below.

He could do nothing but stare at the cloudy sky above him as he fell, knowing he was too high up to shrug a fall like this off. His hand reached up towards the sky, desperately hoping he could grasp on to something to slow his fall, but it was already too late. He could see birds flying high above, soaring through the air just like him, and for a moment he wished he could fly through the air like a bird.

Strangely, his fall didn’t end, and he didn’t slam against the ground like he expected to. Instead he landed softly in a strong pair of arms that easily caught him. Other than feeling like the wind had been knocked out of him, Bran was feeling alright.

“You know, you really need to be more careful.” A familiar voice said. “Otherwise I’ll have to convince Uncle to have you locked in your room for a fortnight.”

Bran recognized that voice, and turned his head to see the green-eyed gaze of his cousin. “Harry!”

“Hey Bran.” His bastard cousin smiled, moving to put him on his feet. “How have you been?”

“I’ve been good, but even better now that you’re back!” He grinned. “Did you just arrive? We haven’t heard anything in moons!”

“I did.” Harry nodded. “And I’ll be sure to tell you and the rest of the family about it. I’d hate to have to retell tales of my recent adventure multiple times over.”

Bran knew that Harry would have to do that anyways. Arya was the worst when it came to her incessant questioning of his adventures outside Winterfell, and even Sansa and Jon questioned Harry rigorously about his journeys throughout the North. Bran would even admit that he was somewhat guilty of bothering his cousin.

“Arya has been asking about you, but that’s nothing new.” Bran said. “You were gone for a while this time, and even Sansa of all people asked Father when you would get back.”

“Is that right?”

“Mmhm.” He nodded. “Theon’s favorite whore even asked about you, its made him quite mad actually.”

Harry grimaced, never liking the subject of whores for some reason. His cousin always did have strange quirks and preferences, especially when it came to topics Theon liked to discuss. He had seen Harry get angry or even close to getting sick when certain things like whores were brought up, and Bran could never figure out why.

“You’re too young to hear about such things. I’ll have to speak to Theon.” Harry said, and Bran could imagine how that conversation would go.

“You know, I never expected you to act so virtuous.” A new voice spoke to his cousin before focusing on Bran. “What is your name, boy?”

A woman wearing a cloak made of white fur approached and stood at his brother’s side. She was very pretty, and Bran felt himself get flustered as he took in her clear skin, blue eyes, and braided blonde hair. Her eyes looked over his form, and Bran couldn’t help but look down. “B-Bran Stark, my Lady.”

“He’s my cousin, and also Lord Stark’s second son. You will be more respectful when speaking to him from now on.” Harry said forcefully to the woman.

Bran expected the beautiful woman to angrily respond to his cousin, and for a moment it looked like she would do just that. But she backed down, nodding her head as if properly chastised. It was bewildering to say the least, but he didn’t get a chance to ask about it before Harry turned back to him.

“Why were you in this section of Winterfell, Bran?” Harry asked. “You should know it is more dangerous to climb here.”

“Father’s doubled the guard since the news came in about the King.” He complained, stomping his foot irritably. “There’s more patrols in the other parts of the castle, and they’ll tell Mother if they see me.”

“I see.” His cousin replied. “And what is this news about the King?”

“King Robert is coming to Winterfell!” He exclaimed excitedly, remembering what had everyone so spirited as of late. “Father has been busy ever since he recieved news, and the castle is more lively than ever!”

/////

Robb Stark

The frost lingered in the air, curling in thin wisps where the men breathed. The yard was alive with the sound of steel, the ring of sword on sword, the heavy thud of boots on packed earth. Normally Robb would join them, laughing and having a good old time as he sparred against different men-at-arms. Even now he could see Theon training with them, laughing as he sent one of the guards tumbling.

His body ached for movement, for the clash of arms, for something other than the long hours spent hunched over books and ledgers. But Lord Stark left him with no time to amuse himself in the yard, and instead acted like a ruthless taskmaster.

The King was coming.

It was the only thing Winterfell spoke of these past few weeks, and everyone from the poorest smallfolk to the trusted men-at-arms had been preparing for his arrival. Every man in the castle had been put to task, from the stewards counting stores to the blacksmiths working late into the night, forging gifts fit for royalty. Robb had been set to his own tasks, harder than any swordplay.

“You will be Lord of Winterfell one day.” His father had told him upon hearing news of the King’s visit, looking more serious than ever before. “Not a boy playing at swords, but a man who must rule. Before King Robert arrives, I will personally make sure you are prepared.”

Robb had nodded, determined. He had never wanted anything more.

His days belonged to his father now. Robb now rose before the sun to sit in his father’s solar, listening as Maester Luwin read out lists of provisions, of horses and grain and barrels of mead. His father made him answer first. Always. He had to think, to weigh his words, to justify his choices before Lord Stark gave his own judgment. To answer wrong was to disappoint his Father, and that thought alone motivated him to try harder.

From there, him and father would walk the walls with Ser Rodrik, listening as the master-at-arms spoke of defenses, of patrol routes and watch rotations. All of which had been increased substantially under his father’s orders, making Winterfell feel like it was preparing for war. He supposed that it was for the King’s safety, but Robb couldn’t help but feel that there was more to it than that.

They even rode out with the steward to the winter town, speaking with farmers, and then viewing the storehouses to make sure they were stocked full. He heard that the King was brining a large retinue with him, and his father was being careful that not too much of their stocks were wasted on feasts.

After that Robb would be tasked with helping his father or Maester Luwin with writing ledgers, almost taking the place of a court scribe. Letters were leaving and being delivered to Winterfell in unseen quantities these days, and poor Maester Luwin would be overwhelmed without his help.

In the late evening he managed to crawl his way back to his quarters, more tired and exhausted than ever, but his day wasn’t quite over then. He would be up late reading into the hour of the owl, going through different books whether they focused on law or history. It was all in the name of not disappointing father, even if it meant losing a few hours of sleep.

Robb read of the kings before Aegon, of the wars the Starks had fought, and the way they had all ruled and died. He could hear his father’s voice in his head, testing him. What would he do if a bannerman refused a call to arms? If the river froze and supply lines were cut? If the wildlings came raiding? The answers never came easy, and that was the point.

He was beginning to feel just like Harry. His bastard cousin had spent obscene amounts of time in the library, something himself and Theon had teased him about many times over the years. Now Robb was beginning to regret that, and he was starting to think his cousin had the right of it.

He vanished those thoughts as he arrived at his father’s solar, the most secure section of the castle with more guards than normal. Robb fixed his appearence before entering, opening the door to see his father speaking with the last person he expected.

“Harry?” Robb blurted out in suprise, seeing his cousin sitting across the desk from his father.

“Robb.” His bastard cousin smiled, standing up and giving him a hug. “It’s good to see you. I only just arrived.”

“Arya will be glad to have you back.” Robb replied with a grin, before glancing at father. “What were you discussing?”

“Uncle was just telling me of the King’s upcoming visit.” Harry said, as they both took a seat at father’s desk. “It seems that Winterfell will have more visitors than its had in years.”

“The King comes with his entire court, if what I have heard is accurate.” Father said with mild irritation. “Meaning he brings half the South to our doorstep.”

“We should be honored, should we not?” Robb asked, feeling confused. “It is a sign of friendship that the King would visit us here in Winterfell.”

“Friendship? Perhaps. But it is the men around the King that worry me. Word has reached me that the King has surrounded himself with less than savory individuals, those willing to do anything to gain power.”

“These men are oath bound to the King, are they not? They can’t possibly be as bad as you make them out to be.” Robb said disbelievingly.

“Oaths are worth less than wind to some men.” Harry spoke up from his side. “There are men who use words as weapons, who scheme behind the backs of their friends and family until they find the opportune moment to strike.”

Ned nodded solemnly, looking at Robb’s cousin with approval. For some reason Harry’s words were spoken with absolute certainty, as if he knew exactly what Lord Stark was speaking of. All it did was make Robb worried, wondering how exactly they could even fight against such dishonor.

“Surely it can’t be that bad?” Robb couldn’t help but ask, almost pleading. “Southerners are weak, at least, compared to us in the North. We should be able to handle any plots and schemes they have for us, right?”

“You should never underestimate the greed and ambition of Southron Lords.” His father replied darkly. “If what I have heard is true, King Robert’s court is filled with flatterers and mummers, men who deal only with lies and deceit. They are the worst kind of men, willing to backstab and betray anyone if it means gaining the slightest amount of power. It can be Lords or Kings, servants or squires, none of which are to be trusted.”

“Why tell us this?” Robb swallowed thickly in worry.

“It is so that the both of you can be on guard during Robert’s visit.” His father said. “I have a hunch that someone in the court is plotting against Winterfell. Whether this is a lone actor, or multiple, has yet to be determined. It is my hope to thwart any plots before they can take form, otherwise our relationship with the King could be damaged beyond repair.”

“C-Can’t we just deny the court access to Winterfell? That way we could avoid all this?” He asked foolishly, gaining a disappointed look from his father.

“I am afraid that Robert’s visit simply cannot be avoided, and declining his Court access to the castle would be a grave insult.” His father said. “I have taken what precautions I can to ensure our safety, but it will be the job of the three of us in this room to ensure nothing goes wrong.”

“That’s why there are so many more guards.” Harry spoke up from his side. “The castle looks as if it’s preparing for war.”

“I guess you can say that it is.” Lord Stark shrugged. “We are going to war against the depravity that is Southron politics.”

/////

Val

The days that followed here introduction to Hadrian Snow were unlike any Val had known. She had expected cruelty, maybe even kindness, or at least indifference from him. Instead, she found something far more dangerous to control.

He was not like the men of the North, with their rigid honor, nor was he like the wildlings, who took what they could by strength and left the rest to fate. Hadrian took what he wanted, yes, but he did it with purpose. With patience. With a quiet, unsettling confidence that made him impossible to predict.

He didn’t speak more than necessary, but he listened. When she tried to needle him, to find the edges of his temper, he met her with amusement rather than anger. She didn’t even bother trying to get away from him, knowing it would be pointless to even try and escape.

There was his use of magic, the likes of which she had never witnessed before. She had never seen a man command the world around him like he did, bending it to his will with a flick of his fingers. The fire he built at night never needed kindling. The water and instruments needed for camping simply appeared. And his own clothes seemingly changed and refreshed themselves at will.

Even the way he saved that boy earlier in the day was proof enough of his power. That fall should have killed Bran Stark, and yet Harry caught him like it was nothing. All of it came to him as casually as breathing, yet it all left her scrambling to keep up.

And then there were his eyes. Green as summer leaves, bright as wildfire. Eyes that saw too much, knew too much.

She had met powerful men before. Mance was one, the King-Beyond-the-Wall, a man who bent the clans to his cause with nothing but a song and a promise. Hadrian Snow was different. He didn’t inspire loyalty. He didn’t beg or bargain. He simply made men believe that he was inevitable.

She had expected to hate him. She had expected to feel nothing but contempt for the man who had taken her. Instead, she felt something else, something unfamiliar.

She felt drawn to him.

Not just for his strength, though that was part of it. Strength was a language she understood. But it was more than that. It was the way he looked at her, not as a prize or a plaything, but with a certain deep interest she had never seen before, all of it being directed at her. It felt strange to have the full attention of such a powerful being, but also rewarding in a way.

He didn’t treat her as a captive, but he didn’t let her forget that her place was beneath him either. He allowed her to move freely, but never far. He spoke to her as an equal, even if she knew a man with his powers could rule the world if he wanted to.

It was maddening. Yet also so terribly arousing.

She wanted to know just how a man like him was able to even exist. He was someone who could dominate the world if he put his mind to it, the kind of warrior that was spoken of in stories and cemented in history for generations.

Yet for some reason he restrained himself, being careful not to reveal too much, or to let the darker, more ruthless side of his character show. Val expected a man as powerful as him to use her body to his heart’s content as he did when they first met, yet instead he seemingly restrained himself. They had fucked since then, of course, but it only happened when Harry gained a certain boldness. It was like he held the dark side of himself back, only to let it out in certain moments of passion when he decided to ravage her.

She could only imagine what he would do if he didn’t stop with just fucking her, and began trying to plunder the world like the Free folk did. She was sure Harry Snow could have all the women he wanted, along with the riches and plunder that came with it. And yet he continues to hold himself back.

Those thoughts continued to swirl in her mind as she followed Harry through the various halls underneath the castle. It was late at night, with most of the castle’s residents asleep other than the few guards that had to keep watch. He had left her to explore and familiarize herself with Winterfell’s layout along with the nearby town earlier in the day, a task that she quite enjoyed. Even beyond the Wall the Free folk knew of the famed seat of House Stark, Winterfell, being the giant castle constructed by Bran the Builder himself.

Even after seeing the Wall, Val was still surprised by the sprawling castle. It added a sense of grandeur to House Stark, a monument that had stood for millennia which symbolized their power and hold over the North. It also made her wonder what Mance Rayder was thinking. For him to believe he could defeat the Night’s Watch was one thing, but the power of House Stark was not to be underestimated.

Harry suddenly opened a door that led to a stairwell, one he walked down and into a large cave filled with all sorts of steaming pools. The room was hot, and Val could feel herself starting to sweat under her furs.

“These are the hot springs that warm Winterfell.” He said as she admired the place. “Winterfell was built on top of them, and they are what keep the castle warm during the winter.”

She nodded in awe, having seen hot springs before, but none of them having been underground nor as expansive as this. Harry began to stride into one of the pools then.

His own clothes simply ceased to exist as he entered the pool, revealing his muscular frame underneath. She could see his big cock thud against his muscular thighs as he waded into the water, and Val had to wonder if he planned to fuck her in this place.

He made a strange gesture towards her, and she jumped slightly as her clothing dissapeared as well. She was naked for but a mere moment, and suddenly a frilly blue garment appeared on her. The tiny pieces of cloth did little more than cover her tits and core, a lewd mockery of the undergarments women usually wore.

For what felt like the millionth time, Val stood still and shocked by his audacity. She would have killed a man for doing what he just did, to undress her and make her look so weak, and yet those thoughts dissapeared as quick as they came. Harry had stolen her after all, making her his to do what he wants with. She belonged to Hadrian Snow, and he knew it.

She narrowed her gaze in faux anger, pretending like she didn’t like his dominance. If it affected him he didn’t show it, as he found a comfortable spot in the pool and rested against the wall. Val made her way over to him, enjoying the sensation of the warm water flowing over her body. She sat against his side, letting her head rest comfortably as she enjoyed the room’s warmth.

“The King is coming to Winterfell.” Harry finally said.

“I’ve heard.” She replied, remembering how every person she talked to seemed to bring that topic up. “It’s all these southerners seem to talk about.”

He nodded. “You’ll need to learn to be more polite for when he’s here. Such disrespect could get you killed, especially if a member of the King’s court happens to be nearby.”

She remembered earlier when he had corrected her, after Harry had saved the life of his cousin. Val was tempted to refuse, but knew that fighting over such a small thing wasn’t worth it. “Fine.”

She felt something touch her thigh under the water, and could feel Harry’s finger nearing her core. His coarse hand moved under the small patch of clothing he had conjured earlier, and with a swift movement he buried his finger up to the knuckle in her core.

Val felt her vision waver in pleasure, breathing heavily as he took liberties with her body. Her large breasts heaved with each intake of air, struggling to get her arousal under control as he fingered her.

“Things are going to be dangerous with the King being here.” Harry said casually, even as Val struggled to maintain coherent. “My uncle seems to think that something will go amiss, and that there is some sort of plot in motion against House Stark.”

“W-What does that had to do with me?” She breathlessly asked, doing her best to stay coherent. Southron plots and courtly intrigues weren’t exactly her specialty, but Val would still do her best to help Harry.

“You’re going to act as my eyes and ears. No one knows about your relationship with me, and so I want you to keep a lookout for anything suspicious. I assume that you’re up to the task?”

It was the way he ordered her around, the degrading way he took control of her body and simply dominated her that aroused Val so much. She nodded in agreement at his words, and from there the two enjoyed having the hot springs to themselves. And if anyone was to enter the large room later on, all that could be heard were the splashing of waves and the wet slapping of skin.

A/N:

Ned works to get Robb in tip top shape, meanwhile Winterfell braces for the King’s visit.

I’d also like to say how much I enjoyed reading all the comments and suggestions on last chapter!