Cersei

She couldn't help but watch him from afar, this boy, not even a man, had garnered the respect of the whole North. This White Wolf. The bastard had surprised her, the thought of him being pretty had never even crossed her mind.

This pup had led the vanguard against a hundred thousand wildlings and had slaughtered the Magnar of the Thenns, captured Mance Rayder and had successfully defended the Wall from the attack from the south led by some beast of a man going by the name Giantsbane.

This boy was said to be the best swordsman in the North, she couldn't help but smirk at remembering that title, Jaime was said to be the best in the Westerlands at his age. And yet she cursed herself, no matter what, every time she caught herself looking at the boy her cunt wettened with need and want.

She wanted the boy between her legs, begging for more as he worshipped her, and when she caught the boy looking at her as well, it took all of her willpower not to find a way to drag him out into the cold night and give him the fuck of his life.

She was disgusted with herself, lusting after a bastard boy, a bastard boy whose blood flows the same as the Starks. But she couldn't help but smile at the thought of having a wolf to herself, turning him against his family. Surely it should be easy, the bitch to her right was a glorified cunt, she had seen the looks of disdain directed at the boy.

Catelyn Stark couldn't help it, this she knew, she would act the same if Robert had fostered his bastards in the Red Keep, who then grew to be legends, known more than her own son.

Speaking of her husband he had yet to grace the hall with his presence, some of the Northmen she noticed were already well within their cups, laughing loudly and patting each other on the back. She would never understand men.

"What do you think you're doing sitting here boy?!" Her husband's voice echoed throughout the hall, the feast gone deathly silent.

"Yo-your Grace?" The boy she had been lusting over whimpered back.

"Sitting here amongst these boys?" Robert questioned, his size and status intimidating the poor boy.

"I was told to sit here, your Grace." Snow replied.

"You don't deserve to sit here," Robert shouted, yanking the boy up from the table he was sitting at.

"Yes Your Grace." Was all the boy replied fear etched onto that pretty face of his.

"These tables are for these pansy squires, you deserve to be seated by the King! We can't have the White Wolf of the North not have his proper reward, a boy who killed the Magnar of the Thenns, the one who was the first into battle and the last out, the one who took that false Kings hands before making him surrender and the one to save Castle Black from those savage cunts!"

The Northern men erupted in cheers as the King spoke of the boy's deeds, raising mugs and chanting "White Wolf" over and over again.

"Come, boy, to the main table we go!" She kept her eyes on the lad as her husband guided him up to the main table, the bitch beside her had excused herself, muttering false reasons to leave and taking her daughter with her.

She watched as her husband whispered something to the bastard boy, his eyes widening and snapping sharply to look at her, her fingers formed into a fist as she imagined the number of things that fat cunt could be whispering to him about herself.

The boy was a tense mess after her husband had practically thrown him into the chair beside her, Catelyn Starks plate and cup were removed and replaced with a fresh set, the boys head looked as if it had been locked to only face forward, he hadn't dared turn his head towards her yet.

Arbour Wine was a surprising beverage to find so far up North, she had wondered if she would be forcing down ale the entire night, but alas she was able to calm her fiery temper with enough of the stuff tonight, she couldn't help but notice the boy was a fan of it as well, as he downed his second cup, before requesting for more.

She watched as he went to down another cup, but before it could even touch his lips, she had grabbed a hold of his wrist and forced it back down onto the table.

"Perhaps we should avoid accidents at the dinner table, hmm?" She asked, giving him a small smirk, before slowly releasing her grip, her fingers lightly stroking his arm as she drew her hand away from him.

"Ye-yes of course, Your Grace, sorry." The boy whispered quietly as if he had lost his voice entirely.

She placed her hand on his thigh, the reaction from him was expected, as his knee hit the underside of the table. She couldn't help but smirk as she saw how tense he truly was. As her hand travelled higher, the tenser he got, she watched as his fists tightened, turning white from the amount of pressure.

It wasn't until her hand ghosted over something large and hard that he jumped from the chair excused himself and practically flew out of the main hall, her eyes followed him until he was finally out of her sight, she looked to her left and saw the King and Lord Stark looking at her with questions forming from their mouths.

"Too much Arbour Wine," Was all she said, cutting off any questions that would've come from the both of them.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, the night's festivities tire me." And with that she picked up her skirt and walked to her room, a genuine smile gracing her face for the first time since her fat oaf of a husband had mentioned this little journey.

The following days, she saw little of her new favourite bastard, the boy was either hiding from her or been told to make himself disappear, whether it was the first or the second option neither would do, so after breaking her fast on the fourth day, she explored Winterfell.

She wouldn't admit to anyone, but the castle was rather beautiful in its own way, the light summer snow graced the rooftops and walkways and the dull stone matched beautifully with the white snow, making the whole castle look lovely.

It was a shame that shit and muck was everywhere, Winterfell was masterfully designed to repel invaders and would be attackers, the castle and all the men and women inside it could survive and thrive without any outside help for years.

Yet this didn't help the aesthetics, it was practical. Typical Starks.

The sound of a bowstring caught her attention, her assigned Kingsguard moved to investigate the sound, but she ordered him away, keeping watch of the way she came in, as she got closer to the broken tower, the sound got louder.

A curse caught her attention, she couldn't help but smirk as she rounded the corner and found the object of her dreams as of late, pulling back the bowstring before releasing the arrow hitting into the far rim of the target, another curse-filled her ears, she then waited for him to ready another arrow.

"Good morning." She said and watched as the knocked arrow flew over the walls of the castle, as the boy jumped in shock.

He turned quickly and knelt before her, muttering his respects, she stalked forward as if she was a Lioness in the flesh hunting for her next meal, she got close enough to put a hand through his mane of dark curls, the smell of sweat radiated from him, yet she wasn't disgusted, she just wished she was the one who made him sweat like that.

She crept towards the target he was shooting at, she took an arrow from the centre point and clutched it lightly, before walking over to stand before the boy, who was still kneeling, his eyes looking at the dirt beneath his feet.

She placed the tip of the arrow beneath his chin and slowly made the boy look at her, sweat poured from his head, he looked parched and scared, she followed the lines of his face with the arrow, like a lover's soft touch. She cut his cheek lightly and yet the boy never moved, just a mere wincing as the cut bled.

She had never been so hot, so wet before in her life, she ached to have the boy under her, riding him like a cavalryman rides his mount, hard and fast.

"What are you doing so far away from everyone else?" She asked, the arrow forgotten on the ground like a piece of rotten fruit.

"Lady Stark demanded that I stay away from the Royal Family, as much as possible, for I am not worthy to be In your presence, gave me an excuse to work on my archery." He replied, his dark eyes looking up at her.

"A shame really. To hide such a pretty thing like you away from everyone." She spoke softly, her fingers tracing his brow, before slowly dropping to his lips.

"Your Grace?" He questioned gently as if he wasn't believing the situation he was in.

"Hush. You'll talk when I ask you a question." She ordered, and like the good pup he was, his lips clamped shut and waited patiently.

She leaned down and placed her lips against his, her fingers now gripping his chin, giving him no room to move at all, and gods were his lips soft, it took a bit of encouragement before he started responding to her, his mouth opening wide, allowing her access, their tongues fought for dominance, before she pulled back, she bit down on the boys lip, the taste of blood exploded onto her tongue.

She gripped his hair as he hissed slightly in pain, and pulled his hair, forcing his head back, his eyes locked with her own.

"You say nothing Snow. Nothing at all about this, and I'll make you the happiest being in the world. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my Queen." Was all he answered, awe and lust shining in his eyes.

She leaned further down, removing her hand from his hair before grasping his hard cock through his breeches, he moaned, and she did all she could to stop herself from fucking him into the dirt.

"Tonight, when you play with yourself, think of me, think of what you'd do to me, moan my name into your furs, pump yourself for as long as you can and when you reach your peak, scream my name. Will you do this for me, my wolf?" She asked as her hand slowly and tortuously rubbed along his hard cock.

"Yes, my Queen." He moaned.

With that she stood back up, her back straight and regal, she rubbed the back of her hand along his cheek, before wiping the blood that still slowly dripped from his cheek with her thumb before popping it into her mouth.

"Best get that cut checked out pup, wouldn't want to scar your pretty face, would we?" She quipped, before leaving the boy with a fierce issue in his breeches to sort out.

Over the coming days, she avoided him, not out of guilt or second thoughts, but to torture him, she would watch from afar, as his eyes would scan over the crowds of people, looking for her. She had allowed his eyes to find her at one point, he had just stared at her, his eyes never moving from her, even through every bump and shove.

And then she took to another looking place, the pup had missed her move thanks to a rather large and dim-witted man, his size had covered her retreat, and when he had moved from the pups field of view, she could see the disappointment evident so clearly on his face, as he resumed his normal duties.

The Hunt was truly on.

And she intended to be the hunter, not the prey.

The sound of tourney swords clashing together, gave her a headache beyond belief, the morning was unusually cold, ice clung to the rafters, like tiny spearheads, yet she could not look away and neither could her husband nor Ser Barristan.

The pup was beating a group of three on his own, his opponents were his half-brother Robb, the ward, Theon Greyjoy and the third she had no clue, nor did she care, her fingers clutched together tightly as she watched the pup dance around his three foes.

It was as if he was a musician or a dancer, his steps and strikes were perfectly timed, and nothing he did was for show, everyone had a purpose, every feint, every twirl of his sword, it all came together like a song.

The unnamed boy took a blow to the nose, the whole courtyard seemed to have heard the break, the stupid boy now on the floor clutching his bloody nose screamed in pain. The discarded tourney sword was quickly picked up by her pup, a sword master this young was rare, a duel wielded swordsman was nearly unheard of, the last being Ser Arthur Dayne.

Blow rained from either side of him yet, his dance never wavered, never stopped, never impeded, his strikes broke the others boys spirits, the pup being too quick to deal with, the Greyjoy fell next, a hit to the back of his legs forced him down, and into the dirt.

His half-brother never stood a chance, she guessed the lad lasted forty-five seconds, before the pup used his blades to disarm him, before pointing the blunted edge towards his throat.

Her husband, let off a loud roar of a laugh, the Northmen in the courtyard yelled for the White Wolf, the poor pup offered a weak bow, clearly unsure of the situation he was now in.

"I'm pleased to find out the tales of the White Wolf have some truth to them at least!" Her husband yelled, amusement clear in his voice, but she couldn't help but agree, as she squeezed her thighs together to get an inkling of relief.

"Boy, you should be in the South fighting in tourneys, with skill like that!" The Kings' fist banged on the railing, the wood looked as if another one of those blows were to come, it'd splinter from her husband's strength.

"Ser Barristan, what say you, hmm?" The King asked, the Kingsguard clearly off in his own head, his eyes firmly on the pup.

"He reminds me of a young Ser Arthur, your Grace." Ser Barristan answered,

"Aye, he fucking does, doesn't he? Dismissed the lot of you, I'm fucking hungry!" And with that the King walked away, leaving herself and Ser Barristan behind before the Kingsguard also took off. She couldn't help but smirk at the pup before she too found somewhere else to be.

"The boy could do well in the south Ned, a boy with that skill, could become anything he wanted, with the right mentorship of course." She perked up slightly, as she heard her husband's voice drifting down the hallway.

"And you're going to mentor him are you?" The stern voice of Lord Stark, was practically a whisper when compared to her husband's.

"Gods no! Me mentoring someone? They'd be drunk with a whore's mouth around their cock before the end of the hour! No, someone like Barristan Selmy, or the damned Kingslayer, as much as I hate those blonde haired cunts, the Kingslayer is one of the best." She snarled at that, another blow to herself, Jaime and their children, something she would not forget.

"The lad desires to join the Night's Watch, something he's been thinking about for a while now." Lord Stark admitted.

"The fuckin' Nights Watch? You have told the lad that it's filled with rapists, murderers and undesirables?" Her husband demanded.

"He's a bastard, as much as it pains me to say. My eldest hates him and my wife despises him, no amount of pushing those two kids together would make them friends, let alone family. An undesirable if I've ever heard one." Her fist tightened, bunching her skirt so much it'll be creased by the time she lets go.

"Sounds like a perfect reason to let him travel south, let him breathe free air, and if say after three years he still wants to join the 'honourable' order of the Night's Watch, I'll give him a Kingsguard escort to get him there." She listened, hoping to hear a reply, but nothing, quiet, as if the Stark crypt had replaced Lord Starks solar.

"If he were to go south, who would take him on? A bastard of the North?"

"I will." She announced as she calmly walked into the solar, her stare directed at Lord Stark, not even bothering to look at her husband.

"Your Grace as much as I appreciate the off-"

"The offer isn't yours to accept Lord Stark, nor do I need your permission to make one to your son." Her eyes, never moving from his.

"Why?" Was all her husband asked, surprisingly quiet, especially for him.

"I have need of a personal guard, having a Kingsguard is good, but loyal to you, and our children, if given a choice they would fight to save you, or our children before me, having a guard loyal to myself keeps me just a little safer." She answers.

"Sure, but why Jon Snow?" Robert asks.

"His skill at his age reminds me of Jaime, in time, I can see him being just as good, and possibly Kingsguard to Joffrey, or to you." Oh, how she wished to also admit because she liked the feel of his cock in her hands or the way he looks at her, with sheer admiration and awe.

"Well Ned, how can you say no?" Her husband retorted, as she looked at Stark, it looked as if he aged ten years.

"Aye, it appears I can't, you have my support to invite him south, but as you said, you don't need my permission anyway, you are the King and Queen." Lord Stark sighed, rubbing his brow. But she cared little for him, she was delighted by the idea of Jon Snow coming south with her, oh how her cunt ached at the thought.

As she made her way out, a smirk blossomed on her face, thoughts and ideas of how to turn the pup into her lapdog ran through her head, and if the plan she was working on came to fruition, she was going to need someone loyal to her and only her.

As she stood overlooking the courtyard she smiled as she saw him, wailing away at the straw dummy, exhaustion evident as Ser Barristan stood beside him, tutoring him already, Stark had no idea the skill the boy truly had, and she couldn't wait to exploit that.

Wolves howling woke her one night, she was the only one in her bed, as was usual, her oaf of a husband was probably bedding some whore maid. Another howl broke through the night, she left the comfort of her bed, glad that the springs of Winterfell were hot enough to be able to sleep nude, she wrapped herself in heavy furs, and left her room, ordering the guard at the door to remain there.

The cold hit her like a wall as she stepped outside, the sky clear of any clouds, numerous stars were spread across the sky, movement caught her eye, she watched as the young pup walked out of the main gates, so she followed, as quietly as she could.

She watched as a large white beast emerged from the Wolfswood, it's tail wagging as it greeted her young pup, fascinated she inched closer, only for the beast to snap his eyes on her directly, causing Snow to look behind him.

She looked on as the beast took off back into the forest, her pup walking towards her. She smiled as he bent to one knee for her, before looking at her.

"Your Grace?" The question was on his lips before she could utter a word.

"Howling woke me, decided to take a walk." She answered as she looked down at him.

"Barefoot?" He asked "Your Grace." He muttered quickly realising his mistake.

"Stand." She ordered and like the good pup he was, he did exactly that. His head bowed in respect.

"Reach under my furs." His eyes widened, a startled look slapped across his face.

"Your Grace?" The boy bit back a scream as her hand quickly clamped around his balls, squeezing tight enough to make him whimper.

"I gave you an order." Was all she replied, taking his hand and guiding it under her heavy furs, his hands were warm, hot even, something she greatly appreciated.

She closed her eyes in pleasure as the pups fingers made their way delicately to her sopping cunt, and once they did she bit her lip to stop the cry of pleasure, the taste of blood was in her mouth, but she didn't care.

'Harder' Is what she wanted and as if he read her mind an arm wrapped around her waist and pulled her close, and his fingers now finding their way into her, her hands clamped around his shoulders as he fingered her, to stop herself from crying out, she leaned her head onto his shoulder and bit down, her scream muffled as she hit her peak.

Once she had recovered she watched him look at her juices on his fingers, sniffing it before taking his fingers into his own mouth, this broke her will, and she pushed him, he tumbled to the floor a look of shock on his features before she knelt down and pulled his breeches down.

His hard cock was free and all she wanted to do was mount him, but instead, she took his cock into her hand and pumped, the moan the boy released was euphoric and so she kept on, he was chanting her title as if it was prayer, before he tensed and shot his load, it covered her hands plenty, she grinned, virgins never lasted very long.

She wiped his seed into the grass and listened as the boy gasped for breath, before getting dressed and heading back to her room, leaving the boy to recover. As she made her way back she couldn't help but smile, she was going to enjoy this.


If there are any spelling or punctuation errors please let me know and I'll fix them once I get round to them, this is the first entry of my novel-length FanFiction, I love Cersei (Lena Headey) and Jon is my guy, and this is my total sin couple.

As you can probably tell, this is definitely AU, Robb hates Jon, Arya doesn't exist and the Freefolk attack was much sooner, all details will be in depth as the story moves on, I hope you like it!