The Northern Tyrant [Game of Thrones] Chapter 41 - Gathering of Wolves, Chicken Nightmare, The Magical Wall & Ghostbuster

Doc - https://docs.google.com/document/d/1edZqq_Gpy-PCPFoyhR0EbEg7nmJ-OKoFNEGp5sTHOt8/edit?usp=sharing

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Benjen Stark knew his own limits. The fact that Eddard became the Lord of Winterfell was already out of the ordinary, especially while Brandon was alive. Usually, death led to such outcomes. But he was happy that it wasn't death. 

Yet, there was indeed death. 

Lyanna, his sister. He terribly missed her presence. Being just a year apart, he never felt in his life that she was older than him. Their mentality matched, and she sparred with him so often, especially after she started to get better at it after getting her ass kicked by Wylis. 

He remembered those memories so fondly. Lyanna was more than a sister; she made Winterfell bearable. She made life in the North fun. And without her, all he could think of was joining the Night's Watch, hoping to find meaning in this new life. 

The last thing he expected was for Brandon to appear out of nowhere and drag him away. He wasn't that close to Brandon, nor did he have many memories with him. He did know Brandon loved him and the Stark family fondly, however. 

He didn't understand why Brandon was so adamant about taking him along. At first, he vehemently refused him; his decision to join the Night's Watch was firm. But when Brandon threatened to have him hogtied and dragged, he relented. 

Brandon was crazy enough to do that. He knew that much. And the Night's Watch wasn't going anywhere. The least he could do was visit Wylis once, at least. He knew how close Lyanna was to him and… he suspected there was more to it. He believed it must have been devastating for Wylis. 

"This… is Wylis' castle?"

"Lord Wylis." 

When Brandon corrected him, he noticed a hint of pride in his elder brother's eyes. It seemed he truly cherished and looked up to Wylis. 

Before long, they entered the castle. However, they weren't allowed beyond the outer courtyard. Lord Wylis's squire even clashed with Brandon to halt their entry. It confused him, as he didn't understand why such a level of security existed. Wylis was just a lesser lord. Hell, the massive moat and the walls around that moat exceed what many castles of great houses had. 

Eventually, the squire left them there and went inside to get permission from Wylis. Moments later, the tall squire returned and cautiously guided them through the many halls. 

"The hell's gotten into you, Chett?" 

He stared ahead intently as Brandon asked that. He was just as curious. 

"You don't know? One of the Kingsguards tried to rape Lady Ros. I was fortunate enough to kill the rotten bastard." 

"Huh?!" 

Brandon exclaimed. Benjen did the same but silently. He didn't know that, but now that he did, it made sense why any guest was seen with a suspicious gaze. If even a famed Kingsguard was up to no good, what else was left? 

"Should've knocked Robert on his arse on the road. Heard the bastard crow he fought Wylis to a standstill," Brandon said. "I'll drill the lads to watch the castle. Not letting that happen again."

"Lord Wylis says the same. Now, Lord Wylis is not alone in there, Brandon. She is inside, so be wary. He looked none too easy about it, but he did it for her."

Benjen frowned, noticing how they spoke in riddles. Who was this 'she' inside? And seeing Brandon nod seriously, he reckoned it must be someone important. 

Finally, after climbing the spiral staircases of the tower, they arrived at the top floor. Chett stood in front of the door first, like a guard. Then the squire knocked, peeked inside, and informed of their arrival. 

Only after that did the squire open the door. He followed Brandon into it, his eyes glancing around to find this woman. But other than open windows, a broad table, and walls filled with book cabinets, there was nothing. 

Creak!

The door closed behind them and only then…

"Benjen."

Benjen's jaw tightened. How could he ever forget that voice? He spun on his toes like he'd stepped on a snake. His breath froze in his throat, his heart turned to stone, and his eyes widened in speechless shock. There she was, Lyanna, standing beside the door he'd walked into. 

She looked… the same, almost, if not slightly fuller. Her face was the same, her hair was the same, her eyes, and her height. And her expressions told him this really was who he thought she was. 

"L-Lyanna? W—”

Before he could finish, he found himself embraced by her as she nearly leapt into him. He instinctively hugged her back, arms around her, squeezing her as if scared this was just an illusion. A fond dream he was having. 

But when he heard her sniffles, he knew this was real. He felt her nails dig into his back; he knew this was real. He felt the scent of her hair, and he knew this was real. 

"Lyanna… you're alive." He whispered into the embrace, being easily a head above her. It was her face that had smothered on his chest. "Does Ned know?"

"No, he doesn't," Brandon said from the side, leaning on the table, arms crossed. "Only Wylis, me, Chett, and a chosen few know."

Benjen nodded and let go of Lyanna, taking a better look at her face. He wiped the tears away from her eyes, his chest tightening. "Why? Why hide like this?"

"Because of who sits on the Iron throne," Lord Wylis spoke, filling his seat like a keep tower. “Should Robert catch wind of it, what fate awaits Lyanna?”

"She…"

"Benjen, I’m wed to Wylis," Lyanna said. "I love him. I have loved him since before Robert was forced upon me. Wylis beat Ser Arthur, Ser Oswell, and Ser Gerold to pull me from the Tower of Joy. I already carried Wylis' child then, yet Rhaegar still meant to claim me for his twisted prophecy. I… If not for Wylis, I might have perished out there. I was so frightened, but he came for me. I’m alive, and I’m happy, brother. Happier than I ever thought I could be."

Silence fell in the room. 

"And Ned?" Benjen asked. 

"You know the man, same as me. He's Robert's drinking mate, more his friend than our brother some days.” Brandon said. “Blood runs thick, but his damned honor runs thicker, and all the rest is shit. We couldn't risk him feeling guilty for Robert and blurting it all to him. So long as Lyanna stays here, she'll be safe with Queen Rhaella, Princess Elia, and the others."

"..."

"W-What? What?! Queen who?"

To that, Lyanna grabbed his hand and led him to the seat. She made him drink a cup of water first and then proceeded to explain everything. 

Benjen stared at Lord Wylis from time to time when he was mentioned. Finding out that the man had children with multiple women, and even made the ex-queen pregnant, and that Lyanna was fine with it all, shook him. 

Nothing Lyanna said made it easy to digest. There was nothing that could make him understand their 'situation.' Saying that Wylis wanted a brood wasn't an excuse. Yet somehow, even Brandon didn't give a damn about it, saying that Wylis loved Lyanna the most and would go to war for her, and that was enough. 

How could that even be enough? This was insanity. Pure degeneracy. 

"It is your choice to understand it or not. I leave the matter to you. The facts stand before you. Lyanna yet breathes, and she is dearer to me than life. But this I offer, Benjen Stark. You may remain here in Ramsgate, take a strong hand in my growing rule, the city, the army, and the fleet, and what follows. 

“Or take the road north and don the Black. I won’t hold you, so long as you swear by your blood that you will speak of Lyanna and the others to no living soul." Lord Wylis's firm, serious voice was enough to keep him on his toes. 

Somehow, Lord Wylis had grown into an even more imposing man. Before, it was only physically imposing, but now it was the air surrounding him that echoed strength and confidence.

"May I have some time to decide?" Benjen said, his eyes on Lyanna rather than Wylis. He wished to speak with her longer and learn what had happened. "I’ll give you my answer come morning."

At last, Lord Wylis rose from his seat, a big, friendly smile on his face that he was used to. He didn't flinch or move back when the tall lord came over and pulled him in a brotherly embrace. He was close with Wylis, closer than he was to Brandon or Eddard, thanks to Lyanna being the bridge that mended the gap. 

“Welcome to Ramsgate, Benjen. Have a look about the castle. There’s a hot spring out back, see you make use of it. And do speak with the ladies, Rhaella and Elia most of all. Both of them are as great a secret in this castle as is Lyanna." 

Benjen nodded to that. In fact, he believed Queen Rhaella and Princess Elia's existence was an even greater secret as their life threatened the Crown. 

And that begged the question. 

"Will you… Are you aiming for the crown?"

“Hah?” Lord Wylis gave a short laugh. “No. Not I, nor any man. So long as I draw breath, Robert Baratheon sits the Iron Throne and rules this realm, I'll battle for it. I saved the Queen and the Princess because it was right. It was never for a crown.”

Benjen let out a relaxing breath at that. He didn't want to be involved in that sort of politics, nor did he want Lyanna to. 

"That puts me at ease, Lord Wylis."

"Why the courtly tongue? We’re brothers still, are we not? Come along, you two must be starving. And Brandon, tell me about Lady Barbrey."

A big grin appeared on Brandon's face that Benjen recognised very well. It was one that hid his elder brother's lechery. 

"Lady Barbrey? You're with her again?" he asked. 

"You’re bloody right, she’s gotten even finer. By the gods, that woman is like the finest wine."

"..."

Was Brandon Stark in love? Benjen found it hard to believe. 

####

While the Stark siblings went to roam the castle and meet its inhabitants, Wylis was left alone to do as he pleased, and he was pleased to do some work. It was time to use the reward he'd gotten from the Foodgasm quest. 

His sword on his back, dressed in ordinary yet noble robes and a huge fur cloak that made his already broad shoulders seem broader, he went into the town. Behind him walked Chett and Small Paul. The three men combined cast a big enough shadow to scare anyone, all being giants with steel. 

There were a few poultry farms in the town, and he aimed to visit each one that day. The goal was to open his own farm. And because of the growing needs of the town, it was a thriving business. 

"Here, m'lord. Forgive me, it's muddy here." 

Wylis followed the farm owner and saw the chickens. As soon as he laid his eyes on them, he somehow knew exactly which chicken would produce the best eggs, which chicken should be kept to reproduce to produce the larger chickens. He knew it all just from a glance. 

Wylis' goal was pretty simple. One, he wanted to have a variety of chickens local to Ramsgate that produced the largest, finest eggs. Of course, Wylis put that in priority as it would help him maintain his protein intake, same for his growing army. Second was to produce large chickens, larger than any out there. 

"Give me that one, that, and that." Wylis pointed at one rooster and two hens. "Stop. Don't kill them! Chett, tie them up and bring them along."

"..."

Wylis noticed his noble squire's hesitation. "Move it."

"M-My lord… I… I don't like them."

"Chickens?"

"They scare me."

"..."

Wylis was left speechless. "But I saw you eat chicken."

"That's different, my lord. On the plate, they are dead and tasty. But now… look in their eyes, their beaks, they’re evil."

What the fuck? Gotta be a joke. 

"You’re scared of chickens because they’re wicked? Either you toy with me, or there’s a tale in it. What did they do to you, stick a beak up your arse?

"Aye, they did. I was a babe, just two, still got the marks."

"..."

Wylis dumbly stood there, looking at the farmer's face as the poor old man looked back at him, and then at Chett with sympathy. Wylis looked behind at Small Paul, the big guy giggling at the butterflies sitting on his nose. 

Should pick better men to bring with me. 

"I'll do it then. But Chett, if a cursed chicken sets your knees to knocking, you’d best make peace with it. Each cooked fowl in my castle is yours to kill now. We roast plenty, so you won’t lack for chances. Meet the thing on your plate and conquer it. It can’t peck, scratch, or shame you any longer."

He saw Chett gulp, but said nothing. Everyone had stories, some weirder than others. Some were scared of tight spaces, some of height, some sea. Chett just happened to be one of the unlucky ones. 

After that, Wylis helped the farmer tie the three chickens by their feet and then handed them to Small Paul to hold over his shoulders. The big guy didn't give a damn as the chickens tried to free themselves. 

Wylis went to a few more farms after that and took a total of ten chickens with him. They were the best he could find in the entire town, and from those ten, he planned to make the world's best. 

After setting up an enclosed space for the chickens outside the castle and then assigning someone to look after them, he returned to his castle. He went back to his solar and started drawing plans for the walls he planned to build that night while keeping the rest of the townsfolk working on the port. 

“This should serve.” He peered into the chest in his solar. Broken bits of Valyrian steel were within. Old armor plates, cracked bits of helms, and sword shards. With the Tarly blade beside them, he felt well supplied. 

“I think I’m due a proper great Valyrian sword. Still, after my first dive in the sea. The waves may gift us enough for a helm as well.”

Closing the chest and locking it, he returned to his table while Chett stood nearby, always keen to hear his command or teaching. 

“What say you, Chett?” Wylis said, lounging in the great chair and beckoning his squire to sit. “Robert will have told Ned already, I’d wager. I warned him a new war is brewing, and Robert loves prattle near as much as wine.”

"Aye, I reckon it true. The King never struck me as a man to hold his tongue."

"Just like his cock," Wylis muttered with a sigh, but again, who was he to speak of that? "Common sense dictates that Ned will suspect the Boltons, considering old bad blood and their recent actions. You don't hate me, do you, Chett? Your lord has gone wading into dirty politics.”

Chett shook his big head firmly; his features could be considered handsome now with his stubble beard and classic Northern dark, long hair. "Steel answers steel, my lord. Give them what they grasp, a blow when they need one, a game when they fancy playing."

Wylis whistled at that, impressed by what his squire had said. "You're reading?"

"Aye, I read whenever I have time. A little every night before I sleep."

I can overlook the chicken business for that. 

"Well said. A man with a sword is trouble, but a man with a sword and a plan is worse. Too many foes greet me like I’m some simpleton brute, then wonder how they end up on the ground. I profit from their mistakes. Now go on, do your thing. I have nowhere else to be."

"Understood, my lord. I'll make my rounds about the keep and loose arrows at practice. Lady Kaiser should be schooling the lads."

"Go on."

All alone, Wylis worked on his own things. He started drawing the entire manufacturing district with water-wheels that would run the many mills and more. From steelwork to weaving machines that would use a belt system to run. 

He drew plans to set up a large building for soap making. Glass and lenses next. Cast Iron cookware would also be a low-grade product before getting the more refined things in order. He also felt the need for a brick factory, as he won't build every single thing. Water pumps and irrigation wheels through a network of canals would later help agriculture in the lands outside the city. 

Paper industry, alcohol distillation would bring in a major profit. Standardized weights and measurements were already being used in his town. 

"Best built an efficient and large sewer system with over a million people in mind. Tyrant's Squire won't accept anything less. Water supply and bathhouses as well."

The list was long. Most of it was for the sake of patenting in the royal registry later, when he'd eventually visit King's Landing. 

Slowly, as night fell, Wylis shifted from his tower-top solar to his ground-floor solar where the family usually gathered. After having supper, the women got busy speaking with Brandon and Benjen right at the dining table. 

Wylis, meanwhile, lounged in his solar, relaxing on the big settee. He wasn't alone, however. As he lay back, head on the armrest, his surroundings were filled with happy giggles. Rhaenys was sitting on top of his chest, staring at his face while he told her a story. Magnus was asleep between the gap of his legs, the boy on his back, snoring. Right under him in a line was Arthria asleep. Both had gotten tired after playing. Aegon was busy pushing his bicycle around. Simon was sleeping beside his neck, Daenerys was held in his other arm, awake and staring at Rhaenys. 

The other kids were too young to be there, and really, he didn't have any more arms or legs to handle them. 

"No! That's impossible! You can't slay a dragon." 

"Oh, he did, true enough. Not a dragon though, only a wyvern, a poorer cousin of the line. Geralt of Rivia is no butcher. He knows dragons think and bargain, and he leaves such folk in peace."

"Dad…"

Oh, my little heart. 

Wylis loved this little girl even more each time she called him father, and he already loved her enough to end noble houses. 

"Can you kill a dragon?" she asked. 

To that, Wylis gave a genuine, deeper thought. He was stronger now than during Robert's Rebellion. Each time he slept with Lyanna, Rhaella, and Ashara, he gained strength, although by a fraction, when combined, it meant a lot in human terms. His Earthbending was also growing. His personal fighting skills had also improved. 

"I would say the chance is fifty-fifty. I can win if the dragon can't fly. If the dragon can fly, then I'll die because it can rain fire on me while I can do nothing."

"Whoa! If Dad can fly, then?"

"In that case, the dragon is dying for sure," he replied, entertaining her curiosity. 

"Hehe, I think I can too. But only with my little Balerion. I would never hurt him; he is very cute and fluffy. I hope he’s okay."

That was a first for Wylis hearing that. He looked at the girl on his chest. "Who's Balerion?"

"My cat in the Red Keep. He was my great dragon."

Seeing the longing in his daughter's eyes, Wylis felt a few heartstrings tug. Right away, he made up his mind to find that cat in the Red Keep next time and bring it over. The happiness of his women and children was important. 

"When I get to Red Keep next time, I'll look for him. But no promise, he may have already run away," Wylis said, and in return received a very heart-warming hug to his face, and a dozen kisses on his forehead. 

Bam!

Right then, Aegon came from behind the armrest where his head was and smacked the handle of his bicycle on Wylis' skull. 

"Sorry, Papa." 

Fuck, I should get angry with them a little. 

"Careful, Egg."

That was the nickname Rhaenys had given since Aegon was always bald. Wylis knew the historical context but went along with it since the boy liked that name, and also, he fucking loved eggs. Wylis was certain to grow the kid into a fine, muscular man in years. 

Creak!

The door to the solar was pushed open right then, and Lyanna strolled in, dressed in her usual light-blue robes, tight pants, and boots, her hair mostly loose with a few slim braids around her temples. She looked stunning.

Clap! Clap!

"Time for bed, kids." Lyanna swooped in and started gathering kids like they were little dolls. She picked those asleep carefully and handed them to the maids waiting outside. Then she pulled Rhaenys off of Wylis' chest. The little girl refused, wanting to sleep with him. 

But once Elia arrived and gave Rhaenys the eye, the girl straightened up. Even Aegon jumped off his bicycle and walked like a stiff soldier. Clearly, Elia was giving a little extra love to her children and keeping them disciplined. 

Daenerys was too young and wasn't taken away. Instead, Lyanna placed the little girl in the crib and then, like a spoiled child herself, plopped down on Wylis like he was the world's most comfortable bedding.

She sprawled flat on top of him, her slender frame doing nothing to press the giant underneath. Instead, Wylis' big arms wrapped around her hips as he welcomed Lyanna's warm lips. 

Wylis was familiar with this warm, light feeling, yet he always craved it with the same deep hunger he had the very first time. As his broad hands explored the curve of her ass, he sank deeper into the softness of her mouth. Her lips were soft, fitting against his with a familiar eagerness.

It was mostly Lyanna’s hungry lips that took the lead, pulling the air from his lungs in sharp, desperate breaths before her small tongue darted out to meet his. Both her hands held his face like an obsessed lover. Her thumbs brushed the rough stubble along his jaw while her fingers tangled in the hair at his nape. She kissed him like she was starving. 

“Mmmh…”

Lyanna sighed the soft sound into his mouth, her breath warm and ragged against his tongue.

Wylis felt her teeth grazing his lower lip, her tongue curling and stroking. Meanwhile, his hands moved. He pulled the loose edge of her robes aside and slid both palms under the tight waistband of her trousers. Warm, bare skin greeted him instantly.

He cupped the full curves of her ass, squeezing hard enough to lift her hips slightly against him. Then he dragged one thick finger down the sweltering cleft until he dipped just past the tight ring of muscle and felt the hot, slick heat radiating from her core. 

"Why can't I ever get enough of you?" Lyanna breathed, lifting her face so her lips nearly brushed his, eyes heavy and dark with want.

Wylis chuckled and teased her slit. "That feeling is mutual, my she-wolf."

Lyanna rolled her eyes at that name. "Don't you start with that again. I hated that name."

"Why?"

“Well…” Lyanna gave a wicked little smirk and pushed her arm down between them. Still grinning, she slipped her fingers under Wylis’s waistband and wrapped them tight around his cock, thick and threateningly heavy as ever. “I’m just a greedy little girl who needs to mount her favorite beast and fuck him senseless.”

Wylis felt his cock throb in her grip and at her words. His hand intently slid further down her asscheeks and finally teased her steaming hot pussy, rubbing it, making her hips dance as she giggled lovingly. 

Oh, how much he loved these little moments with Lyanna. Feeling her breath feather across his face as she pressed her forehead to his. He fucking loved it. Her slender fingers teasing him inside his pants with slow pumps. He fucking loved it all. The way her body rocked subtly against his hand was a filthy rhythm that made his blood roar.

Wanting more of her sweet, swollen lips, he slid his free arm around the back of her head. His thick fingers threaded through the cascade of her brown hair. He pulled her face down with gentle but steady force.

This time, he claimed her. His tongue rolled in deep, coiling around hers with hunger, sucking the breath straight from her lungs until she whimpered into his mouth. He drank every soft, desperate sound she made, swallowing her moans while his finger curled inside her, stroking that sensitive ridge that always made her thighs tremble.

"Careful… Might end up doing you right here and now." Wylis warned her. 

"Gods, ram that thick cock in me and stretch me, my brute husband. Make it rough. But we don't have long. And the door's not locked." 

Wylis raised his head and eyed the door. It was indeed not locked. Yet, he wanted to feel Lyanna's snug love, and he was throbbing hard. He knew he wouldn't last long, and he had work outside. 

"Quick one?" he asked. 

Lyanna giggled and pecked his lips. "Have I ever refused?"

Wylis exhaled with want and pulled his hands out. Removing her trousers was risky. Too bad if Lyanna only wore a gown like other ladies, it wouldn't be hard. Still, he had ways. He reached behind her with both hands and tugged her trousers apart from the lining of her ass. 

Trrrr!

He ripped her trousers apart between her legs. He felt Lyanna flinch on him, but said nothing. That whole time, she was stroking his cock. 

She was so light that Wylis easily raised his own hips and pushed his trousers down, just till his thighs, enough to unleash his throbbing cock. The heavy length sprang free, already flushed and glistening at the tip from her clever fingers. The cool air of the solar kissed the overheated skin for only a heartbeat before her warmth swallowed it again.

Instantly, Lyanna snuggled it between her warm thighs, rubbing it against the torn opening in her trousers. Luckily, she wasn't wearing any smallcloth inside. The woman clearly came here with a plan. The slick heat of her folds kissed his shaft as she rocked forward and back in tiny, teasing slides, coating him in her juices until every thick vein pulsed against the soft inner skin of her thighs.

"Heh, Gods, what do you feed that thing? It feels bigger every damn time I feel it. Or maybe you fuck me so stupid and senseless that my poor brain just forgets how massive you really are."

Wylis felt her thighs squeezing hard. She was really trying to test him, and he wasn't one to wait. With ease, he grabbed her waist and lifted her hips, using her thighs like a movable fist. The torn fabric framed her drooling pussy perfectly now, pink lips parted and shimmering, flushed from need.

"Then get ready to forget it all once again."

"Oh!" She yelped.

Wylis didn't have to do anything. Lyanna did it herself; he only lifted her body and guided it down. She had gripped his cock between them and aimed it at the narrow gap between her slightly parted thighs. The blunt cockhead nudged her entrance, parting the slick folds, then met that delicious resistance.

As he pushed her down on it, he felt her insanely tight walls fight him, and he had to claim every tiny inch. The heat was blinding, fluttering, and clenching like it wanted to push him out and pull him deeper all at once. 

He watched her face as he sank in; lips parted in a silent gasp, dark lashes fluttering, cheeks flushed. Every shallow breath she took made her inner muscles ripple around him, milking greedily even as she struggled to take him.

"Ungh!" Lyanna stifled instantly on him, her hands clawing at his shoulders, her eyes clenched, and her lips mashed on his to hide the crying moan.

Wylis knew she was impossibly tight, or he was impossibly big. Lyanna wasn't that tall or thick a woman to begin with. Yet they'd done this countless times.

He pushed her body down, claiming the wet, boiling heat, inch after inch. He felt the tight squeezes of her flushed walls, the grips, the steaming silkiness. Slowly and surely, he poured half of himself in and stayed. The pressure was delicious, slick nectar coating him thicker the deeper his cock went. He could feel the faint ridge of her cervix already fluttering against his swollen head. His own pulse hammered along his length.

"Ready?" he asked, breaking the kiss. 

Lyanna hummed. "Always."

Was it too much? Yes, it was a lot! But she'd seen his cock even before she'd given him her maidenhead. That didn't scare her, and this was nothing. She had birthed him an heir. 

The stretch burned in the best way, aching fullness that made her toes curl inside her boots and her spine arch off his chest. Every thick ridge and vein dragged along her sensitive walls, stirring that deep, blissful secret place. Her thighs trembled; she could feel him throbbing inside her, alive and huge, stretching her open until every nerve sang pleasure. 

But still, every single time he claimed her, she felt like a bumbling green virgin taking her first cock. 

Just the blunt, swollen tip splaying her entrance thin was enough to make her freeze. Of course, there was that sharp, stinging stretch that made her breath catch, but far more exciting was the thrill twisting low in her gut. How deep would he go? Would he shove it all in? How much would he stretch her? 

Yet he never hurt her. Wylis could read her reactions like a map.

She kissed his lips to muffle her rising moans and rolled her own hips in tiny, greedy circles, chasing that friction. Yet she also let him move her body completely. 

She was light as a feather in his massive hands, lifting and lowering her with effortless control. She simply surrendered, kissing him deep, lying flat atop the hard slab of his chest, knees bent back, feet up behind her, her thighs squeezed tight between his wide legs. Every slow rock sent fresh jolts of pure ecstasy.

Once he was half in, the burning sensation vanished, drowned under a sudden, overwhelming flood of molten essence. The slick glide of her soaked walls sucking greedily at his shaft. Her mind truly went blank. Tongue lolling out into his mouth in a sloppy, helpless suckle, eyes half-lidded with lust, and the filthy drag of his cock filling her to bursting.

She felt him move her body up and down along his chest, pounding her dripping pussy slowly but deeply, each thrust claiming another greedy inch with wet, sucking friction. The thick, lewd squelches as her juice coated his length and dripped down his heavy balls.

Squelch! Sprrt!

"Wylis… give me… a babe?"

She felt Wylis jerk his hips up hard and slam the rest of his cock into her, all the way to the hilt. She felt it all; the sudden stretch as her walls were forced to surrender, the searing burn of her entrance gaping wide around his base, the sudden, deep thud of his cockhead battering her cervix.

"I will… soon. And it won't be a quick one like this," he replied as he kept thrusting into her.

She felt angry, furious. Seeing Rhaella's belly grow, she wanted one too. But she understood her husband’s caution. But understanding didn’t quench the ache. Revenge was way more fun. 

She pushed herself up just enough to straddle him properly, knees braced wide on either side of his hips, and started to pound herself down onto his length with reckless force.

Slosh! Plap! Slosh!

The sounds were wet, her nectar gushing out around his shaft with every downward thrust, clinging to her thighs in sticky strings.

Lyanna kept her chest crushed flat against him, face buried in his chest, sucking dark, bruising love bites into his skin while she rode him like she could fuck the promise of a babe straight out of his body.

"Then… you… uh… better… make it… the best night of my damn… life!" She moaned out every word with each plunge.

Lyanna dove in so fast and delightfully precise with her own sensitive spots, she shattered on his cock right then.

She trembled with endless spasms, walls clamping down in rhythmic, milking waves that squeezed him so hard. Her juices flooded out, soaking his lap, dripping thick down his thighs. She collapsed lifelessly on him, her entire body shaking uncontrollably, legs trembling uselessly.

Wylis took over from there, fucking up into her sore, slippery pussy.

"Gah… I will, Lyanna." 

Wylis wrapped his arms around her back, held her so tight her spine arched off his chest. He fucked up into her hard, heels dug deep into the settee for leverage. Lyanna’s soft, limp body literally jolted with each savage thrust. 

Finally, he rammed in deep one last time and burst. His cock swelling inside her fluttering, over-stretched cunt before erupting in scalding white ropes. Thick spurts of batter blasted against her cervix, flooding her womb in hot, viscous pulses. Each violent throb sent another gush spilling out around his buried base, leaking in filthy drops down his shaft, pooling warm and sticky between them.

Slowly, Wylis lowered them both back down again, cock still lodged deep inside her pulsing, cream-filled pussy. He pulled her body higher along his sweating chest until their faces were level again, breaths mingling in ragged pants.

"Lyanna, I’m making tools to face whatever troubles may come in the birthing bed. Until that day, I ask for your patience. If I lose you, I lose myself as well."

Lyanna did. She felt every word, and she understood him. She lay there shaking, still impaled, feeling the thick heat of his seeds leak out of her in lazy pulses, dirtying her torn trousers and his own, pooling sticky and hot between their bodies.

"Don't keep me waiting. I promised you a big brood."

He kissed her succulent lips, slow and tender this time. "And I want one just as much as back then."

"Thank you for letting Benjen stay."

Wylis frowned. "Where'd that come from? I like him well enough. If he stays, he stays. I won’t send him off.”

"He'll stay, I know him."

Wylis said nothing about that and just held her there. "I should go now. I told you I’ll start raising walls with the gift I have. There is no sense in waiting.”

"I know. I've already readied the cloak and mask you wanted. Only don't let them catch you, Wylis. I would hate for some of those faith-fanatics to put you to the fire now."

"Hah, they can try," Wylis said, pushing himself upright and bringing her with him. “Take Daenerys with you. Rhaella is heavy with child and needs her rest.”

“Aye, I’ll take her. Little Daenerys is a sweet one; she never cries.” Lyanna rose to clean herself and make herself decent before lifting the babe from the cradle. “When will you be finished?”

"No idea. I haven't done something of this scale before. Could be a few hours, or till dawn."

As Wylis also pulled his trousers and prepared to go, he received one last good luck kiss from Lyanna. 

"Good luck, Wylis."

"I do need it."

####

It was the hour of the owl, an hour past midnight. The town was silent, not even a single bark of a dog. The townsfolk had been moved to the port side, where they were assigned work to expand the docks. 

Using Earthending, Wylis left the castle, hiding from the eyes of his men. He'd picked that night because it was misty, and it would provide plenty of cover for his activities. As for explaining how it appeared, he didn't care about that. 

The smallfolk would term it a miracle or something else, no matter what. Anything that didn't point fingers at him would work. 

He started from the northern part of the castle. Currently, there was nothing in the north but lush forests. Same for the western parts. But the western side was visible from the moat wall, and the northern side was better hidden due to heavy mist.

He planned to construct his city in three rings. His castle was the center, surrounded by the moat. The second ring was divided into two sections, one of which would be the northern part, which would house Ramsgate's own Godswood, or better called a private, massive garden with decorated pathways, flowerbeds, and a large grassy training field. 

It would only be accessible from within the castle and be private grounds for Wylis and his family. The other section stretched from the western side to the south and all the way to the port. It was going to be the administrative district. 

The final ring was also divided into two parts with walls. The northern side was to be entirely industrial, and the western and southern sides would house everything else. 

That night, he planned to work on the second ring's wall. He didn't know if he could finish it, but he wanted to finish a major chunk of it, at least.  

Using Earthbending, he guided himself through the mist and the thick forestation. It was also rather cold at night. But he was covered from head to toe in a dark cloak, and he wore a black mask with holes for eyes. 

Seems right. 

He had the plans in his head; all he needed to do was build the walls and the wall towers at the right place. 

It's cold. 

He removed his boots and felt a direct connection with the dirt under him. He took deep breaths and calmed his thoughts, removing any unneeded ideas from his head. He focused entirely on what he wanted to build. 

His fingers twitched to move, but he didn't do it just yet. He felt the ground, he felt its pulse. It was just an idea, but he felt the earth responding to his will. He could sense the rocks hidden underneath. He could feel the cavities left there. 

How is this different from sand bending? 

He pondered as he felt what he could do. Under his feet was mostly dirt, uneven. But he wouldn't call it rocks. Yet, he could move it, compress it, turn it into hard things. 

"Ha!"

At last, he started making hand movements, waving his arms as if summoning a storm from under his feet. He crouched low, bringing himself closer to the ground. He felt it rumble, the tree leaves around shake, and the drizzle of water on the leaves. 

Grrr!

He was entirely focused, however. He summoned a whole wall tower first, one of the harder structures to build. He had to create it brick by brick, but he didn't have the time to actually do that. He had to assemble it as it rose from the ground. Firm, and just as he had planned it. 

There was also the matter of texture that needed to match the moat wall. 

Grrrr!

It took him ten breaths to do it. Earthbending wasn't a jack of all trades for construction. One needed a deeper knowledge of civil engineering to actually build solid, strong structures. And he had just done it. 

What Wylis was building weren't just walls. They were curtain walls, meant to be high and strong. The ones Wylis had planned were a bit overboard, but with Earthbending, not making them didn't make sense. 

The wall tower he raised was twenty meters high, providing storage and cover for battles. The wall he had planned would be fifteen meters high, a significant height. The walls would also be five meters wide, enough to move an entire carriage on them. 

This would've bankrupted great houses if not for Earthbending. 

Wylis believed such a structure couldn't be built in Westeros in the current age. Only in Essos was it possible, even with the help of countless slaves. 

Grrrrr!

It wasn't perfect. He raised the first wall tower and then razed it as well. He then raised it again with modifications. He kept doing it until he got the hang of it and understood exactly how to build it, where to put more focus. 

Unlike simple earthbending, this took a lot of focus. That was the tiring part, not the use of the ability itself. 

Grrrrr!

This time, he took great care; he raised the entire twenty-meter-tall tower. From the battlements to the roofs, rooms inside the tower, the staircase, the entries, and the exit. Everything was built to perfection. 

With child-like excitement, he ran into the tower through its ground entrance and climbed the stairs up to the top. The taller trees helped hide the tower's existence, but he could see above the treeline in most directions. 

A bit of clearing and the view will be magical. 

Ting!

Huh? New quest?

[Hidden Quest Completed - Brandon The Builder Reborn!
Description - A Tyrant may hide his hand, but must never fear using it. By raising a permanent structure, the mysterious legend is born.
Goal - Initiate the Ramsgate's above-ground construction using earthbending.
Reward - 20% Earthbending boost when used in Civil Engineering!]

Earthbending boost?!

Wylis felt nothing in his body. But without waiting, he walked over to the edge of the tower's top and looked down. He tried to raise the wall connected to the tower itself and…

Grrrrrr!

"Fuck! It got easier!"

Focusing on raising the structure felt far easier than before. 

"And it looks perfect! Each battlement is even."

Once again, he ran a level down to the wall's level and ran all over it. He jumped around and kicked with his human strength to see if it was solid. He checked the texture to ensure it matched. In fact, the wall looked too damn perfect to be human-made. 

Good for me. 

Grrrrr!

Wasting no time, he moved ahead and raised another segment of wall, then another, and then another twenty-meter-high wall-tower. He never had to go down again; he built a new structure from the edge of the previous structure. 

From wall to wall, towers to walls, and then to towers, he kept going. When he felt tired, he sat in the tower and took power naps. When he felt hungry, he ate the things he'd brought. When he felt thirsty, he drank. 

Hours went by. The hour of the wolf passed, and an hour of the nightingale arrived. Wylis went according to the plan, and as the morning approached, the mist got even thicker. It was impossible for an ordinary person to see anything. 

So, he went faster and completed the entire northern part, and then the western part, going south. He also erected a grand gateway into the second ring from the outside. It was a large triumphal arch-like structure with three arched gateways, the middle one was the tallest, widest, for horses and carriages, the smaller ones on the left and right were for pedestrians. 

From there, he worked on the southern section of the wall. It had stopped feeling difficult to him as the initial need for creativity and focus had vanished, and a boring rinse-and-repeat thought had formed. The shape and structure of each wall and tower was imprinted in his head. The only segment that took inspiration was the gateway. 

Soon enough, he reached the eastern shore of Ramsgate. The townfolks were living further south, where the third wall was going to stand. They were also working on the port there. But where Wylis stood, it was going to be a private port for the administrative district. The trick was doing it silently.

"Fuck it!"

In the end, he decided to finish the whole damn thing. He built four towers and created gateways between them, one entry and one exit, in and out of the docks. He sealed the entire administrative district after that by placing the last wall and joining it with the moat's wall. 

Going a step further, he fortified the shores with stones and created stone stairways, so reaching the docks became easier. The rest of the dock expansion was for people to do. 

At last, done with all of it, the entire second ring finished in a single night, he took a deep breath and looked behind at the vast empty area that would be the administrative district. Of course, he saw nothing because the mist covered it. 

"I've done it now."

It couldn't be helped what he felt in his heart. There was excitement but also anxiety. How would the people react to an entire damn wall with dozens of towers appearing out of nowhere in a single night? And it was massive on top of that. 

“Should make a few tales and let them spread among the folk. Better I sow the seed than another man,” he muttered and at last turned for home. Dawn was taking color in the east. “If I can manage this, why not mend all of Harrenhal? It can't be that hard.”

On his way back, he thought of the location of that castle. It sat in the perfect location, close to Riverrun, the Westerlands, and King's Landing. It was the place where many armies gathered in their campaigns. It was also the only castle in that location that could house an entire army. Even in its ruins, it was useful. 

Thud!

At last, he climbed the wall of his own home and snuck back into the bedchamber. Lyanna was asleep. 

Having it would secure the perfect trade routes for me. Even from a militaristic point of view, it'll serve well. 

Removing his cloak and mask, he slid into the bed, under the quilt. Instinctively, he felt Lyanna slide closer to him and cuddle. He did the same, but he was still awake, staring at the walls of his bedchamber. 

I already have Maidenpool in my hands. Together, the two can…

Ting!

[New Side Quest - Rising From The Ashes
Description - Dragons felled the greatest castle; now the greatest Tyrant shall raise it again. Even in ruins, it's a castle worthy of the Tyrant's name.
Goal - Take ownership of Harrenhal, directly or indirectly.
Reward - Ghost Banishing Presence.]

Woosh!

Wylis sat up straight on the bed, throwing Lyanna aside, who woke up in shock. 

"They're fucking real?"

"W-What? Wylis, what the fu—"

"Ghosts, Lyanna. They're real."

"..."