Other

by Pantalaimonstail

Night King/OC - smutty Mary Sue type story about a 3rd Stark sister and the Night King. Enjoy. The story mostly focuses on those two, so I took some liberties with the times of the main story just to make it flow, it should still be pretty close to the show (not the book plot) but do not dwell if events do not add up perfectly.

1. Chapter 1

I.
She was happy to be back in at Castle Black for the luxuries such as bathing and thus privacy which tents simply did not allow.
That was the only the only thing she welcomed being back here, the blatant hungry stares of the wildring men as she walked by without the extra layer of furs to cover her soft curves simply irritated her - but it was the lustful and resentful looks she got from Jon's new brothers that took their oath to abstain from cunts, she hated the most.
Not that she would ever consider any of them, but her body was a wonder to her, the pleasure she was able to find in just looking at her naked form and picturing a man with her was so wondrous that any person that willingly would give up that pleasure, that joy - by choice?
She knew the wall was an alternative to death for some of the brothers, and others were simply too young to know their flesh - but how many were just eager fools like her brother, willing to give all that up, all that magic and the freedom having a cock gave them that she as a lady was denied. - for hers was to only be shared with her husband in her marriage bed, to bring forth fine strong sons and try to not die on the birthing bed.
Sometimes she thought Arya had a better idea about "being a lady" than Sansa, but unlike Arya" she couldn't just forget her own power, her own pleasure her own..
Yes, she did not like it here, it was too warm, too crowded, too filled with small minds of small men who clouded everything around them with their too hot sweaty bodies and smells.
She craved open fields of snow she saw in her dreams, she wanted the icy rain to fall on her burning skin - "it would feel like icy kisses, like icy bites" she suddenly thought, and the thought excited her in ways any man ever could she knew. On this side of the wall...
She pushed away that thought and proceeded to actively not think about what she encountered in her last vision. Bran had seen him before, but refused to talk about it.
All self important in what he could glance from the weirdwood, so she waited for them to leave and laid her own hands against the trunk, let them flop around Bran the seer.

She preferred they didn't know how strong her sight really was. She suspected though Bran felt it and Meera felt it, she tried to not use it much around him especially.

She laid her hands on the trunk much like she saw Bran do before, she opened her eyes where Bran must have been?

A snow filled desert lined up... with the dead as far as the eye could see.
And up on the hill above them all - a dark figure with sapphires for eyes.
His presence emitted a dark power - and she knew the dead would not move without his wish.
He looked so other worldly, so powerful - she thought he was the most beautiful being she has ever seen. Looking at him filled her with the same feeling she got looking at icy landscapes beyond the wall, at endless darkness at the bottom of a cold black well.
She wanted to reach out and touch him - feel the sheer otherness of it, the darkness pouring off seem to fill a void in her that nothing else ever had.
So she just stood there transfixed, looking into the abyss.
So transfixed was she in her revere - that she did not realize what happened when the figure turned his head and saw her.

II
The next second all the eyes of the dead were looking at her and glowing that eerie blue and the bluest sapphires were just inches from her face - and the dark man was only a step away from her - his face looking surprised? Angry? Looking at her.

From everything Bran and his new friends prattled on no one was supposed to see you when you did this, but clearly, this.. man was very much seeing her and aware of her attention.

She felt a ring of ice encircle her left wrist - ice or steel or stone. Could you feel in a vision? She wasn't sure, this was Bran's territory!

She dimly registered that the correct thing was to pull away - away from his grip, away from the tree. To run back to the castle and confess her transgressions to her brothers and beg forgiveness and ask for training and whatever good little girls did.

Instead of pulling away - she turned further towards this dark creature, finding his coldness, his 'otherness' even more captivating at close range, she felt the ice of his hand was soothing something inside of her that she didn't know was on fire.

He also seemed at a loss for a second by her reaction - her lack of fleeing. He was clearly poised to chase and hunt but instead of running for her little life, the little mouse was instead looking back.
As if mice often turned around and gave chase to the black dragon, had the audacity to pull it down to the snowy ground and have a feast.
What sort of mouse did that? Ah, not a mouse, perhaps something with bigger teeth, a wolf? It mattered not - a dragon facing a wolf or facing a mouse wasn't suppose to be a fight.
He just stared back into her obsidian eyes for what to her felt like eternity and she did feel like she was about to die for a second but it was OK as long as she was being swallowed by those blue glowing pools of ice and her wrists were being held by those impossibly strong hands...
She absentmindedly reached out and steadied herself with her palm against his chest - because the ground was spinning away in a swirl of white mist.

He broke the spell first, she wasn't sure if he spoke out loud or she just heard the voice in her head like Bran once described.

"What are you looking at little She-Wolf?"

"A man..." she whispered out loud... and something ancient and feral and hungry flickered across those glowing eyes at her words.
This was a night and a day ago - her vision abruptly ended by Jon and his little crew finding her like that – palms pressed into the tree, eyes closed.
She was yanked away from the white fields and the blue eyes and the velvet caress of the black presence by her brother wrapping his black cloak around her and rubbing her hands in his.
"Eda, you are freezing, your hands feel like ice and I couldn't get you to answer me, this is not the cold like back home, this cold will get you quicker than you know!" he examined her tiny hands in his again, trying to rub at her left wrist at the blue- grey ring of bruises marking her snowy skin.

The night - their last in the tents - she laid with her eyes wide open staring into the darkness and the snow… and for the first time she felt the darkness she stared into for so many nights was looking back, and it was hungry.

III.
She was glad to finally be away from everyone; the room was dim with only a few candles burning and steam was rising from the bath water. The small room lit by a few candles, the rest of the light coming from the huge silver moon streaming into the open window. She knew she was letting the precious warmth out this way – but she felt trapped without it, without the moon and the wind kissing her with its icy breath.
She continued her musing while pulling off her soft leathers, eventually leaving her in nothing but her small clothes and a laced up white shirt. She gingerly sat on the edge of the tub and unwound her dark long hair free down her back when she heard the shuffling noise from the darkened corner of the room where the large buckets were piled.
She jumped up – her shirt moist and clinging to her naked body and grabbed her dagger from her discarded belt. She saw the dead man crouching in the corner, he, it? looked like it has been outside but waiting in the bathing room for a while, the ice was melting in dirty puddles and she could see the hallow space and poking ribs where its chest used to be.
It was fairly well preserved in all other ways – it must have been a recent death, its eyes however were fixed on her – and glowing a brilliant blue of sapphires lit aflame.
Eyes she would know anywhere until she took her last breath.
A sudden realization hit her based on something Bran told her about seeing through others. And it snapped her out of her spell enough to at least pretend to herself that she felt her honor was... besmirched. Is that what girls like Sansa worried about?

Her brows came together, her eyes narrowed and her lip curled in spite of herself.
"You can see me… right now, you can't get past the wall, but they can rise on our side…. and their eyes are your eyes"

The wight still didn't move, didn't back up, just stared at her – the same hunger flickering in its eyes that she saw before.

Like last time, she knew she should be scared, call for help, instead the danger made her feel reckless, wild – the hunger inside the thing's gaze that came from beyond the wall, beyond this world, from this other place that set her skin tingling.
She moved closer – "it's rude to peek on a lady when she is alone like this, without her Septa to mind her chastity and virtue."

She tugged on one of her laces of her barely there shirt, "who knows what I could be doing here, alone in the dark - after such luxuries denied to me for long weeks" she ran her fingers inside her shirt over her hard nipples and took a sharp breath at the pleasure, marveling at how much stronger everything felt with those eyes on her.
She let the shirt completely slip off and leaned over to blow out the candles
"I imagine you can see better this way"
She whispered" as she sat down on the edge of the tub, running her left hand over her full wet breasts, the curve of her stomach between her soft thighs.
The eyes – the thing they were in seemed incidental to her at this point - once the tiny flame was out were now just inches from her.

She leaned onto her back, her dagger still in her hand, she was more excited than she ever remembered the surrealism of it made her head spin, she absentmindedly ran the tip of her dagger over her breast and down her belly.
There was another loud clank and the dead thing… man was on its knees, its face inches away from where the blade met her skin, its fingers hovering over the places where the knife drew a path,
"You like this" she breathed out, she was so wet, she thought she was going to melt into a puddle – she smiled wickedly and turned the dagger around, sliding the hilt inside of her – it was so hard, and still cold, perfect, just like she imagined his body to be – she closed her eyes and gave into pictures that flooded her mind, of his body filling hers so perfectly and completely, of those blue eyes staring from a different face.

She vaguely felt cold dead hands steady her hips and spread her legs further when she started to lose her balance on the slippery edge of the tub. Hungry eyes only inches away from her sex - drinking in each thrust of the dagger's hilt, she moaned for him when she reached her peak though she wasn't sure what name to call him - in her mind – she screamed out "my king" the dagger slashing her hand as she spasmed and blood dripped down and mixed with her juices running down the edge of the bath.

The dead thing fell to the floor and swung around without direction, eyes a dull white.
IV.
He actually lost control of the wight in Castle Black as he reached his own orgasm, like a newly turned child just learning his powers, it made his ire rise.
Her moaning for him in her ecstasy and thinking of him, and the warm red life mixed with her aroma drove him over the edge faster and harder than he ever remembered in this un-life, or his human life of long long ago. He uttered a curse in a language that hasn't been spoken aloud in a thousand years.
A cold hard anger was filling him, overflowing him.
Wind blew harder and ancient ice mounts began to hum in ominous crackling tension.
How DARE this girl child make him lose control like that, how dare she fill his vision so completely he lost track of her brothers, his army - his storms, his rage - everything for that one blissful moment when she was spread open and soft and warm in front of his eyes, so lost in her own pleasure that she was letting the thing that could crush her tiny little life in a second actually hold her up with it's dead hands. Letting him feel the soft slickness of her skin just for a moment by the very thing that sent much larger braver little humans screaming in terror.

So lost and reckless and daring because he was watching...
His anger flared up anew, as well as other parts of him when he replayed the images in his mind.
He would kill her! No, she would be his, first she would be his in every way a man can have a woman, that will teach her about playing dangerous games not meant for little mortal girls.
He would claim her, in front of her brothers, than he would kill them, then he would...
He would break down the cursed wall, kill every watcher and turn every living being into a pillar of ice but he would taste her with his own lips, touch her with his own hands.

A surface of a huge frozen lake formed a crack and began to bleed black water.
He thought again about how prettily her blood pooled on the dark floor.
He didn't have to kill her right away after all...
She could pay for her offenses in other ways for a while…

Either way, he was moving south.

Chapter 2: Comfort

She cried for comfort.

She cried into her brother's thick black hair - the only one that had hair like hers out of the Stark children - and he was a Snow. She once overheard their mother say that if she herself did not push Eda out she would think Eda was also a Snow.

"The midwife did take her away outside when we thought the bitty thing was not meant for this world, maybe the Others or the Children of the forest came and swapped the real Eda with a changeling babe" Old Nan giggled.

"What an awful thing to say!" exclaimed her mother

But Eda knew by her voice she was smiling, Old Nan always told stories of White Walkers and Others and days long ago, that is why she was Eda's favorite.

When little - Eda did secretly hope that maybe she was a child of the forest and not meant to be in the boring castle, but on the other side of the wall, free of Westeros and her name and all their silly rules. But her temper, her nose and that sheer Starkness of hers was obvious from miles away as she grew.

The story Old Nan told however was somewhat true,

Baby Eda came into this world during a long rainy night.

Two moons too soon- with no warning.
But with Ned away fighting a war and Sansa still on the breast - she wasn't expected at all with
just one short visit from their father that year but here she was a-knocking.

The midwives were summoned, but with a babe that early on and a storm and darkness that bad only one living at Winterfell and Old Nan were at Catelyn's side when the child appeared.

She also wasn't breathing...

The midwife tried all the tricks she knew on the blue-lipped babe, but she didn't try too long. Her and Nan exchanged glances, she was too early and so very small. A girl,(at least not a son lost - small comfort - and there already was a daughter to bring her mother much joy) - was just too small, too still.
A sad unspoken rule amongst women often present at the birthing bed is to quietly wrap up the child that never was and bury it in the forest. A child too small to live, or too deformed to live - or too sick to take all but a few first breaths.
No grave, no child no need for the mother to waste precious tears on something that never existed.
The midwife wrapped the perfectly formed tiny girl and carried her outside.
The babies need warmth to breath life into them - so the old woman who took Ned out of his mother once upon a time and saw that he took his first breath - almost dropped her bundle from shock as it was the gust of icy wind and hail that embraced her outside that made the bundle suddenly gasp and screech and ball up her tiny fists at the chunks of ice falling from the dark sky.
"A true daughter of the North our Edaline is"
Their father would say lovingly and hug his other black haired surprise - only weeks apart with the one he brought back home after the war.
So she cried for comfort into his hair because secretly she liked Jon a little more than her other sibling because their name day being so close.
Him not being a Stark, and her being born dead to be woken up by the cold - being unexpected and in the wrong time and coming into this world against all the rules
So she cried on Jon's shoulder - he thought - for comfort because a walking corpse just stumbled into her bath. She somehow managed to get out, luckily bump into one of the rangers while completely naked and bloodied and - of cause she was in shock and terrified and needed comfort.
But really she was a practical girl - and was planning on acting as surprised and terrified to find the animated corpse as everyone else was if not for noisy rangers roaming the halls at the wrong time.
So she did cry for comfort, and out of anger because of what just happened and it was so wonderful, and that now she was all alone ago
And she was absurdly scared because at the end of the day Edaline Stark did not know the first thing about men.

Arya knew more about men than she did, because Arya was friends with them, fought side by side with them.
Sensa knew more because well, she made it her point to know, and enough made it their point to hurt her in ways that taught lessons she would never forget.
Eda just mostly made a point to avoid them because the fact that they had more power, more right to things simply for having a cock - that enraged her.
If anything she liked wildring way of thinking better, at least they didn't treat their females like cattle, well - most of them.
But at the end she was at a loss, because most men outside her family left her confused and annoyed and she didn't want to know them.
But she wanted comfort she wanted to know what to do now.
"This is insane" she actually muttered, because it's not like 'he' was a regular man.
Like she could ask advice on what dress to wear to the next tawny and hope he would bestow a favor on her with a flower or a wave.

What tomfoolery of an idea!
In any case, it wasn't stupid fragile flowers she wanted.
It was that power he emanated that forced dead flesh to walk and fight under his will.
It was the way her mind felt when he looked into her eyes - Bran once said that when that gaze met his, he heard the Mad King screaming, saw himself falling out of the tower - like every horrible thing that ever happened to him or that he knew happened to someone else was replayed in his mind over and over.
That was not at all what she felt - she felt like she was falling into cool black waters - staring into a sky of falling stars, the rage - the uncertainty and feeling of isolation that was always with her was simply drowned out by his darkness and his power.
And she never felt as calm and safe as when she was looking into those eyes.
She vaguely wandered what kind of favors would one like him bestow on someone he did want to show favour to, there were no flowers beyond the wall - just snow and ice.
The dead and the dying.

Eventually she drifted off to sleep and if she dreamt she remembered it not, but in the morning she woke up to noises and commotion outside.
Getting dressed as fast as modesty allowed, she ran outside to find Samwell and some of the others pointing at something off the edge outside of the castle walls.
Trying to wipe remnants of sleep from her eyes she eventually made her way up to see the source of the excitement.
Dead birds as far as the eye could see were laid outside the gates in the virgin snow, from above they looked like tiny black dots - laid out inspirals to form an intricate lace.
It was heartbreaking, magnificent and the most beautiful thing she ever seen.
Chapter 3.
After leaving his mark on her wrist he now shared a connection into her mind.

A patchy network of feelings and random glimpses into her life - at least on this side of the wall and if she wasn't concentrating.

And if he ever came close to feeling anything akin to regret it would be that he marked her in the first place, because he knew, without a doubt, that a man was stroking her hair and her skin, and she was welcoming it.

The rage that filled him could level mountains, she was marked as his now - how dare other filthy hands be anywhere on the soft skin he was planning on peeling off one bite at a time…

He has not felt such anger since the children first tricked him into becoming this and then united with the humans he was bid to kill.
He hated betrayal and games - that was the human way and the children's way - petty way of small beings without true power.
She was too distracted for him to get a more clear idea - but he was certain she was thinking of him, and flowers?

What an odd little thing this girl - she had to die so his existence could get back on track.
Where he was not sitting around wondering on why was she putting her face into this man's hair (he too would have to die).

At this point rage overtook common sense and he snatched the mind of the closest crow perched on the wall of the castle and flew over to peek into her window.
She was sitting on the bed with her arms wrapped around one of the crows, the other one she thinks is her brother - the one without the sight. The affection and comfort she was feeling did have a different feel to it than lust and obsession, but the emotion was so foreign to him he didn't recognize it at first. Platonic affection for her kin he supposed.
He suddenly felt even angrier, like she played a joke on him, lured him here - drove him mad, only to be discovered to be made a fool of because she was just sitting on her bed with her brother.
He watched the crow bid her goodnight - surprised by her simple flannel nightgown.
Only to be more pleasantly surprised by her locking the door after making sure her brother was gone, blowing out the candle and ripping the thing off her body - clearly hot and uncomfortable in it, exposing all that delicious creamy white flesh.

She stretched out on the large fur on her bed, her glorious black hair around her, her dark eyes half closed under black lashes, every curve of her body bathed in moonlight.

She was definitely not mouse, not even a wolf - something more ancient. Something that kept the first men huddled up close to the fires during the long night - dangerous and feral and not at all like the soft little humans he has seen as nothing more than meat for his army.
She didn't belong in a tiny castle behind this wall, covered in thick scraps of cloth.
She belonged in the night, in the snow - her body adorned by irridescent ice and her beauty awful and delicious. She belonged to him!
That is of cause so he could kill her if cause for daring to impede on his solitude.
Dare to occupy his mind so completely yet again - that insolence.

She could not exist for things to proceed,
He watched her lift the wrist with his mark on it and gently trace it with her finger, her face no longer looked dangerous, it looked confused and sad.

And he felt something he has never felt before (and for good reason) from those unfortunate enough to be marked by him.
He felt her wish that he was with her that he was there next to her, that he was touching her.

And the longing was so strange so foreign so intense that he forgot that he was looking at her through eyes of a bird, again - the Night King forgot all that made him.

He just wanted to go to her and touch her and a thousand birds crashed into the castle wall and their dead little bodies fell into a macabre patterns of his state of mind at that moment.
Today it was a disjointed trail of thoughts about something beautiful and frail and confusing to him.
And it left a trail of black lace made up of tiny bodies frozen in the snow.

Ch.

Chapter 4

Summary:

Eda/Night King smut and fluff chapter.
I enjoyed writing this but had a hard time keeping it fairly PG, the naughty bits will come in later chapters.
Chapter Text

She was back at the weirwood and it was middle of the night.

His favorite time, his time of power - but he was a bit taken aback to feel her reach out so strongly until she was standing 2 feet in front of his dead steed.

He did his best to mask his surprise at her brazen appearance and raised his right hand to his troops and his underlings to get back so within a moment they were alone in a snowed in clearing. A neat trick that earned a small gasp of surprise from her, something that barely took a conscious thought from him.

Good, let her gasp, let her never forget who is in control here!

Giant frozen pines swung gently from wind that seemed to appear out of nowhere - it crossed Eda's mind there were no trees before - they must have moved further south she deducted.

Something that definitely wasn't fear caught her breath but she brushed it aside.

"You! Take this mark off me right now"

She placed her hands on her hips, narrowed her eyes and stared at him with every intention of what?

What could this little girl do?

He was abruptly furious beyond all measure. How dare she give HIM orders!

The fact that he considered removing the mark himself just a fortnight ago because it was ruining his concentration only irritated him further.

"Why should I?" He growled.

And it felt as if ice was cracking on a river, unleashing the currents frozen in time by its power - one rumble at a time.

"You were in a place you needed not be, and now you are marked as mine to always know where to find you little one."

"I don't care about that!"

She narrowed her eyes angrily.

"What do I care if you know my whereabouts, you can't cross the wall anyways!"

At which she crossed her arms defensively.

"I want you to take it off me so I can think of other things, other than… whatever magic you used, take it off"

It was his turn to be surprised, though he did his best to hide it, the Night King's mark was a dangerous thing to any seer on both sides of the Great Wall for the past 8 thousand years.

It allowed him to always know their location and sometimes their state of mind and made many protection charms against his kind useless.

It did not have the power to influence or ensnare the mind.

Such powers were simply beyond him when it came to the living - even if he laid his hands on one and was staring into their eyes.

That's why he needed to make white walkers, that's why he needed to keep changing the children to fill his ranks.

If he could simply control human minds on a whim the wall would be long gone and the world a much darker colder place.

She clearly did not know that nor bothered to find out - though he was pretty sure that arcane knowledge was gone after the last long night.

What she was describing had no ancient magic to it, no spells or marks or sigils or anything supernatural that he had control over.

If he was given to introspective (which he was not) he would admit he briefly wondered the same thing about her being infused with some new powers by the children as a trap for him.

But he knew very well that her fixation had a much older and more... basic nature. And it made parts of him even more aware of her proximity.

It mattered not that he cast no such spells over her, she was not someone to give him orders!

"No."

"In that case, I will… just get out of my head!

" Her last words came almost like a plea and she suddenly looked every bit as tiny and fragile as she really was and suddenly he wanted her totally and completely and right there.

That wasn't strictly true, he wanted her from the moment she appeared in front of him - eyes blazing and mouth pursed and determined.

But her sudden change to a plea, her inadvertently accidental admission - that he has been occupying all her waking thoughts. That power was intoxicating.

He was suddenly right next to her - their bodies only half an inch apart. She was so tiny and warm in contrast to everything he had in the Land of Always Winter.

Her soft hair swirling hair getting caught in the intricate plating of his armor somewhere at the shoulder level

He raised his sharp blue nail and traced the outline of her jaw with gentles that surprised them both.

"No"

He was feeling utterly drunk sensing her suffering, her need.

and he thought..

he felt...

He was drowning again in that soft swirl of girl-flesh he wanted to spend days devouring.

And at that moment her eyes snapped open and he remembered again exactly why this human girl had occupied his mind so completely. Why her obsidian eyes reminded him of a wolf.

She closed the distance between them with one fluid move and brought his mouth onto hers biting his lip and wrapping her arms around his neck with a fierceness of a winter storm and digging her sharp little nails into his icy flesh.

The obsidian of her eyes holding his icy gaze - challenging him, taunting him and driving him mad with that clever tongue of hers.

She pulled away first. There were scarlet droplets of blood on her swollen lips.

"Take the mark of me!"

"No"

he repeated and pulled her hair roughly aside grazing her neck with his sharp teeth.

"No because you are MINE"

he growled over her delicious flesh.

She bit his ear.

"Then I will cross the damn wall and make you!"

And they just stood there… the gravity of what she said hanging between them along with her breath.

Because it sounded like a promise instead of a threat.

Because he ran his thumb across her swollen lips trying to make those words hover there just a moment longer, and she half closed her eyes and nibbled his fingers

And it sent ancient pines cracking into splinters in the distance from the roar of wind and snow that went up around them as his self control wavered.

"I will still kill you brother" he whispered as he nibbled on her ear and neck again with his sharp as needles teeth.

"Which one, I had 4" she commented dispassionately.

Trying to hold steady her back against him, her face completly and beautifully lost in her bliss.

He looked at her puzzled.

"Ned Stark had 3 male children"

"Four, he had four sons" she corrected absently as someone who had done it 100 times.

He let it go, perhaps the meaning of brothers and other blood relationships had shifted since his heart beat and he had sons of his on, it mattered not.

"The one with the sight"

"ah, Bran.. you can try" she shrugged

"He has proven remarkably resilient to death"

She already knew Jon's position in the watch was precarious at best. And she gathered from the general gossip that it was a well known fact some would rather see him dead than in that post.
Having an out of place sister that he thought was dead stumble into their camp - letting her stay at Castle Black while trying to figure out what to do with her, those were the things that did not make his position any stronger.

She got separated from Bran and the Reed kids a few days prior right outside the castle, she had a feeling they crossed the wall and left her behind - she had a feeling Bran agreed to this thinking she would be safer with Jon, she suspected the Reed boy sensed something in her that he did not like and wanted her away.
All those things seemed foggy and unimportant to her now. Her mind occupied with other things, blue fire eyes and cold hands and sharp teeth.
She was trying to make a conscious effort not to think about him, because she knew - knew from the bond they now shared that he refused to break that he knew this, and was drinking in her aching like a fine wine.

She wasn't entirely correct - he did watch her, through crows and foxes and eyes of any animal he could snatch (foxes were his favorite because he could also smells her near by) and he could feel every delicious tormented moment she couldn't keep her mind off him, like fine gossamer strings pleasantly tugging at him throughout the day and pulling like chains of fire and ice on him at night when she was alone in her room…

But she was incorrect that he had any control over it, at this point - he could no more stop their link than he could stop the sun from setting.
It came as natural as the snow flurries and icy winds did when his ire rose.
Unlike any others bearing his mark in the past - desperately fearing and hiding - she welcomed him, craved it even.
So there were no barriers to break, no ancient magic to overcome.
Her mind, her beautiful warm mortal body and her strange feral soul glowed brightly like a beacon of ice blue fire. He could see it across every barrier placed against his kind on that damned wall.
He could see it as if she was right in front of him.

He could if he really wanted to he supposed put an end to her little life without having to kill her body physically.

But that would be so much less enjoyable, yes, that was exactly why he dismissed that option as soon as it crossed his mind.

He absolutely had to have her body mind and soul in his possession first, make her suffer and pay for doing this to him.

In ways that made her cheeks flush and her body open to his hands and her throat make soft delicate moans as he tasted the soft skin of her neck and breasts.

Then eventually he would kill her of cause.

He rode faster, he was very far north and if she did end up coming to this side, it wasn't safe for soft little girls out there in the wilderness no matter how predatory their true nature was.

After all he was the most dangerous thing beyond the wall but he surely wasn't the only one and her human counterparts were some of the worst.

Of cause this was so he could make sure he was the one to kill her.

And not anyone else.
Or anyone else to touch her - or look at her. But that's because she was marked as his that's all.
He just didn't like disorder - or people touching his things.

Chapter 5.

Once little Eda was in big trouble - she stole her brother Rob's and Theon's boots, also her father's.

And some other visiting lords. Eventually Sansa and Nan found her in the kitchen stuffing nuts and barley into the stolen items.

"What are you doing you little imp!" Exclaimed Sansa - always terrified to be embarrassed in front of company.

"I am stealing men's soles and seeds!"

Eda proudly said.

"I will be the Night's Queen!"

"She took man's seeds and their soles!" she pointed at the boots empathically.

"I got their soles, but - I don't know where they keep their seed so I just took some of the walnuts from the kitchen"

She was looked upon in silence by the others.

"Jon is practicing with the sword for Night's Watch, I am not sure what I should practice with"

She didn't realize why they punished her for a week or forbade Old Nan from telling any more tales of the Night Queen after that.

It was some years before she herself laughed at the walnuts she collected.

She wasn't sure why she remembered that story now.

Probably because she felt just as naughty as stealing shoes stealing away after the ranger party crossed the wall with her trailing behind them on foot to make a dash in the opposite direction of their party as soon as they crossed.

She left Jon a vague note back in her room - something about going to find Sansa - he would still worry but not as much as if he knew the truth.

Her leathers and furs completely white and her black hair carefully tucked into her hood. She thought their black capes were stupid.

The white made her practically invisible in the snow - so she was genuinely surprised when half a day later two strong arms grabbed her from behind and a hand came over her mouth.

When she could see her captors her heart skipped a beat.

Those were no rangers Jon sent out to find her like she assumed. Suddenly she felt really stupid and young.

The wildring that bound her arms and legs and sat her down on the floor of the cave in front of what was easily the tallest man she ever seen.

He had long wild black hair tied around what looked like bones. On his chest, and this she was sure of - was a necklace of human teeth.

His face was very pale like hers with a strong nose and high cheekbones.

A thin scar was the only imperfection splitting his right brow in half.

He had piercing blue eyes and she could see his teeth were sharpened to tiny points.

Something in Edaline involuntarily tensed pleasantly when looking at at least 8 blades hanging of his belt.

This man was strong and dangerous - and there was a primal part of her that liked how the setting sun glinted on all his knives like blood.

Whoever this man was, he was not one of the wildring tribes that came to align with the rangers.

"What did you bring me Karr dinner or entertainment?"

asked the tall man at the wildring that bound and brought her here.

"Currency, and if not - entertaining and dinner" the one named Karr answered and the rest of the men chuckled.

"She left from Castle Black tailing the Crows on foot. Based on her clothes this one isn't a crow or ever even been on this side of the wall, I could see her for miles like a little lost dove, and no crow would be stupid enough to stand out in bright whites against this mud and dirt, even they know better."

Edaline flushed at this, so maybe not everything could be learned from stories and books.

"Her hands and hair are soft and her fur is well made, perhaps the Crows would pay to have this little bird back - what do you think Yarro?"

The tall wildring - Yarro, got up and circled around Eda.

"Don't scream, or I will cut out your tongue"

and took the gag off around her mouth and pulled back her hood, her silky curls spilling out like a waterfall.

She noticed Yarro's hand pause to play with stray curl while trying to catch a glimpse of what the rest of her was like under the heavy parka.

And suddenly Edaline wasn't scared out of her wits any more, because she had seen men look at her that way before and that - that she could work with.

She shifted in her bonds and slowly licking her dry lips - looking only at Yarro - up into his eyes.

"I am Edaline - and I escaped from Castle Black, they wanted to burn me as a witch because they fear beautiful women and only lay with each other and I was simply too much for them to accept into their simple little minds"

Naturally none of this was true but she heard enough from the wildlings she did meet - that assumptions were made about the rangers that only had men in their ranks, she hoped this was true for all tribes.

The rest of the men guffawed loudly at this, but Yarro stared at her with his hard blue eyes, trying to figure her out.

He knows I am lying… she thought, why isn't he saying anything!

The tribe's chief unhooked one of his large black knives and slid the blade across the knot holding her white furs together at the top. They fell in a pile around her top leaving her in a tight black leather bodice and leather leggings with soft grey snow boots reaching up to her thighs.

Yarro circled around her, openly admiring the curve of her buttocks in the tight leather.

He lifted her heavy hair off her neck with his large knife, trailed its point down to her generous cleavage.

Eda's breath quickened and her pupils widened - the tip of the dagger against her bare skin reminded her of another time she felt that sensation.

Another set of piercing blue eyes watching her with hunger.

And she was suddenly so very hot.

Yarro clearly liked what he saw, liked her response - he cut the rope binding her arms together and pulled her towards him.

"I get the first turn, and all the turns after that until I say otherwise"

he growled as he pinched her breasts and sat back down next to the fire pulling Edaline onto his huge lap.

Edaline snuggles up trying her best to be seductive - she couldn't ignore that his chiseled chest against her cheek wasn't unpleasant and the large hardness she felt with the leathers between them wasn't an unwelcome sensation..

But this was her first, surface thoughts, deeper on the inside of her core she was furious - where was HE, the moment she crossed the wall the very presence of him sharpened in her mind.

Why couldn't she feel him except a bare whisper now?

Was this all just a trick to hurt her brothers?

Perhaps she would let this wild man have her - she liked how his strong arms held her possessively and the dangerous gleam in his blue eyes.

She felt so stupid for even coming to this side of the wall in the first place, teasing the Night King.

Who did she think she was. But here, here was a real man, warm and hard and ready to fuck her, she thought bitterly.

Not some ethereal ancient epitome of the winter

One of the men walked over to them interrupting her internal monolog.

"Yarro, we had to burn three of our dead on our way back - and it wasn't even nightfall before they began to twitch"

"I drew the sigils around the cave before we got here, I think the dead are closer than we thought, daylight doesn't protect us any longer"

She looked around the strange symbols she just noticing strange spirals and signs scratched in chalk at the cave entrance.

And the sudden loss of her connection made a horrifying sense. He would not come help her.

He had no idea where she was because the free folk had been living on this side of the wall where his kind wasn't a tale to scare kids - but a real daily danger to their people.

And some of the people surely knew how to hide.

She felt so alone, and so scared and very stupid.

She was careful to avoid eating anything Yarro tried to feed her, until he shoved a piece of meat into her mouth laughing.

"it's rabbit stupid girl, eat"

He stuck his greasy hands into her bodice and pulled out her breasts biting her left nipple.

She squeaked and he laughed.

"Come, witch - show me what it is that made the Crows want to burn you at the stake"

He took a torch in his left hand and grabbed her pulling her to her feet with his right - his blue eyes were looking at her in amusement, she now had no doubt he knew she lied.

Once they were alone in the labyrinth of the caves he slowed down his pace and sat down the torch.

He took a bit of chalk from his pocket and drew a swirling symbol next to the flame.

"Each cave must be protected now at nights he said - all mirth gone from his face.

"From what?" She asked in feigned innocence.

"From the walking dead, and the Others - you are very lucky my men found you before nightfall little pretender, things that roam here are much more dangerous than even me.

Edaline chuckled to herself darkly at the irony, the dangerous things that roam the night needed a way to find her soon if she wanted to avoid any more trouble.

A plan began to rapidly unfold in her head.

She pulled herself onto Yarro's lap and kissed him hard, slipping her tongue into his mouth.

Enjoying the way his sharp teeth bit her lip.

He was so furious - birds were dropping frozen from the sky where he rode his dead steed. Trees bent and cracked in his path.

He felt her cross the wall and her presence went from a bright beacon to a supernova in his mind's eye.

She was so close, so tantalizingly close and he grew hard as a rock just picturing what fun he would have paying her back for all the suffering she caused him.

When the free men snatched her he almost leveled a mile of forest. How dare they touch his rightful bounty.

He tried to raise several of their dead to free her but free folk were quick with fire.

And once they went into the caves her presence became a whisper.

And now a man was touching her, and she was enjoying it.

The world was going to freeze and die - tonight.

The reality and the wetness and heat of Yarro's chiseled body took her off guard, drew her into a whirlpool of sensation where she found herself helping Yarro slide his large hands into her leathers as he let out an approving growl when his hand found her soaking wet and eagerly sliding herself onto his fingers.

Just a minute more she thought - as she ground herself against his large hand.

But his body was hot, and his breathing noisy and heavy and suffocating and not right

She sighed, pulled the small dagger no one bothered to disarm her or check her for, from her boot and drove it into Yarro's neck.

He took longer to die when she expected, she never killed a person, but the experience left her feeling completely underwhelmed.

Arya always wanted to kill someone because she was who she was, the boys looked at killing as something that symbolized manhood.

Edaline was getting bored with how long it was taking this wretched man to become dead enough.

She walked over to the cave entrance and wiped the protective symbols off the wall. Then she powered water to put out the fire and sat down to wait.

She didn't have to wait long.

Ice blue glow from the newly risen corpse lit up the cave with eerie otherworldly brilliance.

"Took you way too long!" she pouted but every gest and every expression was betraying the overwhelming joy she felt as that icy blue gaze assessed her half naked state with some disapproval from the face of a man who used to be Yarro.

She felt his hands, like steel claws, pin her to the wall - two blue flames inches away from her eyes and cold dead lips snarling into her face.

She sucked in her breath and put her lips near the dead man's ear. Touching it with her tongue.

"They painted sigils to keep you away, I thought it would be safest if from now on I had a companion with me that could assure that never happened again."

"I never want to feel you this far again…" she added with such resigned sadness it could melt ice - he was sure she was not not fully realizing she actually said it.

The grip on her wrists loosened and a hand slid through her hair and down her back, around the curve of her buttocks and up her stomach.

She kissed the face that used to be Yarro's and closed her eyes.

The kiss wiped away all traces of the other man.

Her king was icy cold, with sharp nails and no breath.

And he took her mouth the way no human ever could. He devoured her lips in tiny bites, sliding his sharp torture down her neck and eventually landing his (Yarro's) dead lips on her nipples. Taking turns to bite suck and pinch them while a low growl escaped his throat and she wrapped her legs around his torso and made those delicious little noises he loved to coax out of that damn little mouth of hers.

He wasn't used to people feeling joy when he made the dead rise.

Or when he was close by circling in on his target warging into bodies.

So he wasn't sure how to process the bright shiny joy and happiness and anticipation

Edaline's very being practically blew out into the night as soon as she wiped those damn sigils off the walls and he could see her properly again.

He was genuinely surprised how relieved he was to know she was OK.

And angry that those men took her at all, such fury overtook him - the not Yarro pulled away from her and gently but firmly sat her down on the floor, picked up Yarro's belt with all its knives and walked out.

Much like with the dead that got into Castle Black The sigils did nothing to help once he was inside.

It only took a few short screams for the cave to be occupied by only one breathing human.

He felt a little better - he was only half a night away from where she was now anyways. The army of the dead moved slow and needed little direction at this point. He would have her all to himself soon enough.

His anger flared up when he remembered sensing her enjoy the large man's hands on her sweet warm flesh.

He marched back into the cave where she was waiting. A bloody sword in each hand.

He found all his rage dissipate when he saw Edaline had washed off the man's blood from her hands and had curled up asleep under her now not so white coat. Completely dead asleep with a tiny smile on her face, feeling perfectly safe that a horde of the animated dead he would leave roaming around would protect her.

He left them instructed to do exactly that.

He himself focused his mind on this tiny sleeping pain in his….existence.

He found her dreaming of the same cave, except she was clean of the blood and the place was empty except the two of them. He slid out of the darkness enjoying but slightly thrown by the intensity their mental connection had without the wall between them. He wasn't sure she saw him until she broke into a wide smile and extended her arms to him to join her on the floor.

"I like it so much better when you look like you" she whispered into his pointed ear and traced the icy horns on his blue skin with her delicate fingers.

And he knew she wasn't lying.

She was looking at him like he was the most mesmerizing thing she had ever seen - and underneath that, there was such hunger he sensed.

Hunger that made him hard as ice just looking at her, hunger that was the direct reflection of what his own blazing eyes must have been betraying.

The next moment she was kissing him, biting his mouth, pulling him to her.

Her eyes stayed open staring into his as he allowed himself to be pulled down onto the floor on top of her.

Allowed her to place his hands on her bodice (which he simply sliced through with his nails without a second thought).

Allowed her to roll them over so she was half naked and straddling him and he was moving his sharp teeth over her hard nipples and her white neck.

And when she pinned his arms he let her - but did bite her hard enough to draw blood - at which she moaned louder and moved her hips so deliciously against him - perhaps it wasn't so bad to take orders from her after all he vaguely noted as she directed his lips back to her mouth and licked the tiny drops of her blood off his lips.

He used every power available to him to force his hands to pull away from her delicious warm flesh, and to use one of them to clamp both her wrists to stop to what could only be her trying to unbuckle his lower armor and getting stuck on the intricate ancient designs.

Once he actually gathered the effort - it felt to Eda like the man she was fully in control of a minute ago turned into an iceberg.

She growled out of frustration but stopped - uncertainty in her flushed face at what she did wrong.

He tried to sound gentle, he wasn't very good at it, so it came out as a flat statement.

She pouted but pulled her bodice bits back up and pulled away looking hurt.

It gave him a strange surge of satisfaction to see her disappointment.

"Rest, in the morning take two of the horses - one for you one for your guard, he will lead you and keep you safe clever girl"

And he melted out of her dream.

He wasn't being fully truthful, he had to leave because while his power - which after 8 thousand years were beyond measures - allowed him to control armies of the dead without having to consciously think about it.

He however was having a very hard time maneuvering on his horse with any sense of direction while feeling hot little lips pulling on his ears and clever little hands attempting to liberate his cock - all while deliciously squirming and making little noises that drove him absolutely mad.

A whole lot of land would simply be made into ice and splinters if the all powerful Night King ungraciously stumbled to the ground with a throbbing cock, glazed eyes and a look of utter bliss on his face.

Damn her, damn her, damn her - and a few trees lost branches anyways under gusts of icy wind..

Damn her damn her damn her - and a few trees lost branches anyways under gusts of icy wind.

Chapter 8 Night Queens

There were no females in his ranks - what he didn't know is how much lore and mystery that added to his kind among the free folk and the citizens of Westeros alike.

If in some strange universe someone would actually tell him that rather than die in their encounter, he might have spared their life out of sheer surprise.

White Walkers, others - whatever they were being called were creatures turned by him and his, and he - a creature of dark ancient magic, had began his life as a man.

And some rules of men were universal.

And it was true that during long winters, the others often laid with human women.

Their willingness, he supposed, was the same as with any strong military force occupying a land where mothers daughters and sisters tried to survive.

That was none of his interest.

The outcomes of those unions were always human, maybe slightly paler and crueler than most - but it seemed the magic did not cross to their kin.

Then, there were the girl children he had turned - thousands of years ago, before all the free folk were even called free folk and everyone of them were just men, some tribes far north worshipped his kind.

And leaving a child offering for the gods of winter was seen as a high honor.

He treated the females and males the same - but there was one fundamental difference.

He could breath this un-life into a being and their body continued to grow and mature and follow his orders.

But it could not carry life, it could not grow a new soul inside it - feed an infant on a frozen breast.

But as he, the deity of winter and death knew best of all.

Life always found a way.

It mattered not if the father was human or of their kin.

The moment new life took hold and the ice maiden became two beings - she would begin to change.

Color would slowly flow back into her hair and skin, the heart - still and frozen, would begin beating to feed the growing life inside.

At the end they all would leave - the Land of Always Winter was no place for a human infant and once truly alive, no mother wanted to hand her babe over back to him.

He let them all go, but he no longer took the girl children as sacrifices- until none were left for him.

It was easier this way.

Soon the world forgot about those beautiful ice maidens except a stray story here and there.

Like the one little Eda heard as a child about the Night Queen.

But he, as the Night King, never fathered a child or took a queen . Why would he want the heartbreak or the bother with a mortal being?

Eventually even flesh lost all but the most basic appeal to him - what was a pretty face or body- he had an endless menagerie to chose from for all eternity.

A long time ago when he still remembered his heart beating and remembered what holding a human child that was yours felt like though…

He captured one of the Children and did things to him until in exchange for death, a secret was told.

When fire breathing dragons die out from the world of men.

When the army of the grassland hordes brave the narrow sea

When a she wolf will be born dead only to rise up and breath and take the life not meant to be hers.

And she shall be as pure as snow of always winter untouched by a seed of the living.

Then he could have his queen, then she could bear his child - a true child of winter.

Oh, how he laughed when he killed that creature.

Prophecy was such foolishness. He resolved to always just be as he was, alone.

As all were in the end.

Once Edaline woke up, she tried to speak to her new guard, but the eyes glowed a dull blue instead of a fire of sapphires , and it simply obeyed. She knew he wasn't there.

They rode well into the evening - Edaline finished the food she grabbed from the wildling camp.

It was notably colder now.

At some point the horses would no longer go, so they got down and continued on foot. She was sure dead horses could do just fine, but killing them just for such a reason was cruel so she let them free.

She hasn't felt him all day and was starting to worry he was unhappy with her - or even more if he was alright.

And she did appreciate the humor of it, it was up to a small human girl further north than she dared imagine and with no food or clothing, to contemplate the state of being of malicious winter god.

But she was concerned anyways.

He was alright, he was always alright, he was winter damn it.

And he was brooding.

He was brooding and avoiding thinking about her because the happiness inside him upon having his little Edaline so very close was such a foreign sensation to his ancient body - he simply could not process it.

This was so beyond the nature of all logical things that he tried to focus on ways of killing her again.

They all started with him tying her up and with him… not killing her.

He was at a loss.

It was evening when he came out in the wind and snow of emotion face to face with her flesh and blood self.

Standing there in the snow, shivering - her eyes opening up wide in wonder when his form appeared out of the icy gusts as he dismounted his horse and took a step towards her.

Edaline looked up in amazement at the Night King.

She felt like she was looking directly into the sun.

His magic, his other worldliness, the sheer un-humanness of him were so much more beautiful to her in real life than in any vision they shared.

He, in turn was staring in amazement at this fierce little human girl who crossed the wall into the land of always winter for him.

But he was too lost for words because at that moment if he had to chose between the entire world and this slightly muddy girl, he was pretty sure where his choices would lie.

The next moment she was in his arms and he was devouring her.

His icy hands sliding under her coat and dress - his sharp talons slicing through the soft leathers and fabric like it was butter.

At some point he remembered she was shivering - this he could fix, so he paused long enough to blow into her face forbidding the cold from touching her any longer.

That was well within his powers.

She was suddenly much more awake - and no longer cold.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed back with all the pent up frustration of their interrupted encounters.

Kissing him was like drowning in a lake of the darkest velvet.

Like drinking the strongest wine.

She couldn't pull away.

She slid her mouth down his neck, pulling off his armor plating and biting and kissing down his chest.

To her eyes - he was the most beautiful creature she ever met and she wanted to consume him.

She heard a deep chuckle - clearly their mental bond was even stronger in person.

It abruptly stopped as she finally figured out the damned lower armor and he felt her smart little mouth wrap around his icy cock and slide down.

He threw his head back and let out an involuntary growl.

He didn't remember ever experiencing this before or this was a new human activity - but he never wanted her to stop.

Watching her almost entirely naked in the snow, down on her knees in front of him, her face flushed, and her mouth swollen and red as she swallowed him her eyes closed in ecstasy and black hair flying around her naked breasts was the most beautiful thing he had seen in 8000 years.

He held back long enough - with enormous measure of self control he pulled her back up and crushed her swollen mouth to his..

He pinned her against the closest large tree - a dead weirwood and shredded the remnants of her clothes off her.

She wrapped her legs around his waist pinned her tiny hands with his against the black bark. Their fingers lacing together.

She was so wet when he entered her he almost spilled his seed from the silky sensation of her warm body.

No, he wanted to enjoy this, he slid in and out of her, slow at first until she was begging him to go faster and harder and thrusting her body against his squeezing his cock with her tight sex.

He almost lost control again when she unwound one hand free and clawed his ass begging him to fuck her harder, HARDER.

When he felt her let go around him lost whatever ounce of control still remained.

He pounded her pleasure spot without mercy as she spasmed around him again and again.

"You are MINE, completely and entirely mine" he growled.

"I am yours, all yours" she moaned into his ear.

"And you are mine" she added as she bit down on his neck . That feral creature hidden inside of her all her life finally stretched out - naked and glorious and eyes blazing and hair a wild fury of curls. Dead branches caught in her hair like a sinister spiky crown.

"And I am yours" he growled back as his own climax overtook him.

"I am yours and you are mine" she repeated dreamily coming and kissed his blue icy lips.

"Yes" he simply answered back and pulled her into a deeper kiss wrapping his power around them in a cave of snow and ice and darkness - lit only by moonlight and two blue fires.

Chapter 10

A happy broody post coital king and some fluff, those two earned it

" I need you" she moaned, as sleep began to let go of her and her legs and arms wrapped around him in a delicious tangle of warm softness.

"Take me now… "
He started to thrust into her from behind - he has been hard and ready - just waiting for her to awaken from her slumber.
So when she pulled his cock out and moved it, he assumed she was sore from their multiple rounds of lovemaking earlier that night.

Tender soft human that she still was.

He was caught off guard when she slid his member that was soaked in her juices to the tight rosebud of her ass and told him:
"Now, I want you to fuck me here…" she breathed out a small puff of air, clearly getting even more excited by this idea.

He definitely decided again he did not, one bit, mind taking orders from this little human.

Nor need to be asked twice, he was trying to be slow and gentle, but she worked her tight ass on his huge cock with a load moan, and as he began thrusting, she grabbed his hand and shoved his fingers in to fill her in the other way.

He could feel himself stretching her to the brim and she was screaming in pleasure, coming in gushing rivulets of fluid around his fingers moments before his own climax overtook him

"Fuck...my... mouth"

"Spill your seed on my tongue this time, I want to savour your taste"

"I want you to have every inch of me in every way…lick me there!"

"Bite me, HARDER"

Those were just some of the sweet nothings his little delicate Edaline commanded into his ear after she woke up again.

That was just how they started their mornings - well it must have been morning somewhere.

It was too dark to tell - the elemental power of winter was hitting north including their
enclosure of snow with such chaotic fury and rage mixed with moments of such perfect winter serenity and snowflakes and ice of unparalleled beauty spreading across the land.

He wasn't paying attention, he was too mesmerized by the way her eyelashes cast shadows on her rounded cheeks after she was satiated again and back asleep.

Snuggled up to the deadly Night King, with all the fury of eternal winter currently focusing on keeping this one small person happy with every skill he knew and some he was almost sure he made up.

In her sleep she pulled him closer and wrapped her arms around him tighter.

"My beloved, you are the most amazing thing in all the worlds"
And tiny lightning fired through his cold flesh at the truth she put behind her words.
And his power swelled and grew and took shape and had a purpose and a name and a missing piece of him there once his heart beat no longer any pull on even the darkest corners of his being.

For it now had black eyes and hair and breath - and for the first time he was actually joyful to be this creature of ice, not just accepting of it, for it meant it all led him to his Edaline.

His now and forever until the stars burned out and the sun rose in the west.

And the world would be dust and snow and endless night if someone ever took her away.

And she whispered her feelings back to him, as she pulled his head to the chest where he heard her beating heart, a heart he could freeze to a stop.

But the murderous plans of getting even with her by killing her from a few days ago somehow were wiped out of his memory.

In fact, if someone would have reminded him of ever wanting to hurt the soft perfect girl at his side in any ways other than those that made her scream and spasm deliciously, he would have frozen them on the spot and shattered their body!

Why should only humans partake in the luxury of denial and selective memory of events

Dragons
Chapter Text

They were slowly moving to meet back with his undead horde and resume his path south but they were lagging.
Not only because Edaline needed to sleep and eat, but because they seemed to often get distracted along the way by … other things.

Often brought on by things out of their conversations.

For a creature of many years of solitude with only other ice and the dead for company he did not mind having regular conversations with his beautiful new companion.

He was also fascinated to learn the small details about the world beyond the wall that were not privy to him before.

Of cause it was within his power of seeing to know all about the major power struggles, the fate of the Mad King and his dragon line, the fear his kind still inspired within hearts of men.

But he was surprised to learn that at one point ALL the dragons were gone. But now they were rumored to be alive again.

He did made sure at one point in time, that creatures that breathed fire that created dragon glass and forged valyrian steel were as scarce as possible - for obvious reasons.

But he wasn't aware all dragons died out from the world.
He actually liked dragons in general - majestic creatures.
And he liked ice dragons, and dragons that he could reanimate back and ride like a winged steed - he didn't realize for 500 years they were nothing but legends.
What were those years to him of eternity anyways especially since as he learned they were back already to the silver haired female descendant of the Mad King.
Edaline wasn't sure it was true that Daenerys Stormborn really had three real dragons.

He assured her she did.

He could feel the dragons and their magic of fire and molten iron.
The only reason he didn't notice it disappear for a while was because as a general rule, dragons were of no concern to him in the land of winter as long as humans did not gain too much power over them.

He decided he wanted a dragon - three LIVING dragons was too many if a Targaryen child could actually control their fire again.

But so could he in a way.

Yes, he absolutely wanted a dragon again as well

Edaline was the most serene she could ever remember feeling.

Even before her family was torn up and they were scattered around the kingdom like orphaned birds

Edaline never truly felt connected to Winterfell the way others did.

Perhaps that's why her bond with Jon was the strongest of all the kids - he never fully belongs - their mother made sure of that.

It made Eda angry to think about that side of her mother.

How those moments made her vision tint red she would have liked to strike her mother down in.

She felt icy hands wrap around her waist from behind and move up her breasts. She could see the brilliant inhuman blue of his eyes reflect and shatter off the icy walls of the cave.

Felt him dip his head to nip behind her ear and nibble down her shoulder.

She went up on her toes to give him easier access and make up for their height difference.

This is where she finally felt home.

With him, her king of ice and night.

His flesh - never warmer than the dead man in the cave got after he has been dead for a few hours outside.

His skin - palest shade of blue- grey and intricate and ridged like tree bark instead of smooth like hers.

She found how inhuman his skin was strangely appealing, she would spent hours exploring every inch of him with her lips, her fingers - her tongue.

He found that activity very much to his liking actually, though he did remark once that just because he didn't bleed didn't mean he couldn't feel pain when she got very carried away.

Though that just made her bite him harder.

She loved getting him slightly riled up - because otherwise she felt he always held back, afraid his passion would injure her in some way.

But he was easy to coax out of that with a few scratches or a bites.

The fury and power of winter could only appear peaceful and calm for so long.

She felt him push her down to the floor still saying a word, he didn't need to say anything.

His swollen cock was already teasing the curve of her ass during those last few minutes.

His hands exploding her folds and curves with more purpose now.

The next moment when he entered her she was more than ready, she was always ready for him.

From the first moment she saw him in that stolen vision she was never suppose have.

With him, she felt home.

She murmured some sweet dirty nothing in his ear after climbing off him afterwards but her eyes looked sad.

That was the opposite of how she typically was after such activities.

For a moment he thought he didn't do something right or accidentally hurt her.

She must have noticed his quizzical look, which looks out of place on the stern face of a supernatural deity wielding all the powers of death and winter.

" I do miss my family sometimes" she stated flatly.

He did know, once he missed people too.

This was why by unspoken rule he had always taken only newborn babes to turn.

They could not miss what they never had.

He was not a force of goodness or kindness.

He was winter and darkness and death.

But much like the elements he controlled - the destruction he brought was indiscriminate and all consuming.

When he needed to replenish his army, he simply wiped out a tribe of wildlings to get it unless they provide him with something more useful - like the old man with the male babes.

But he wasn't necessarily a cruel person (if he could be even called a person) - not the way Edaline described some of the humans like the false lion cub king that killed her father.

Petty cruelty was purely a human emotion and he reserved all that was left of his for the remaining Children of the forest and the three eyed raven who tricked him.

He was even gentle with the babes he took before they turned.

Perhaps he liked kids once?

So seeing such sadness on the face of the only human in thousands of years that he considered beyond flaws of humanity and worthy of his company was of more concern to him that he cared to admit.

"You know, my brothers have even more reason to kill you now"

But why of all the forsaken things now talk about her brothers at all after they just shared such a blissful morning.

He wrapped his arms around her and wrapped a giant black bear skin around them.

Cold no longer bothered her but he knew she liked being snuggled under a cover to fall asleep anyways - a human habit he found strangely endearing.

"Where are more reasons the Crow and the Raven wish me destroyed - other than my undead army marching south and bringing the long winter and downfall of humanity?"

He cocked his head to the side in feigned puzzlement.

"Do tell."

She actually blushed - now he HAS seen everything.

"Well, now that I am no longer a virgin, no fine lord will want to marry me and the legacy of Winterfell will fall to dust"

She said it in a sing-song voice much like Sansa would have.

With Rob dead, Rickon and Arya missing,

Jon taking his vows, Sansa choosing to stay south with THEM, and Bran being injured in the way he is…"

- "I was the last Stark to take over being Lady of Winterfell. And here I am not fit for a virgin white gown any longer after all you have done to me".

She traced his mouth with her finger at the last part - her eyes getting that that hungry look again - this woman was insatiable..

HIS woman was insatiable - he was getting hard again.

Wait!

HE had done to HER?

Just yesterday she was trying to convince him that she should tie HIM up and cut him with dragon glass "just a little" because regular knives posed no REAL danger for him.

As much as he liked making her happy, he adamantly declined that offer - he had all the dragon glass in him he would ever need.

But mostly, he could not wrap his ancient mind around the fact that his wild clever and wickedly inventive little minx has never been with another man.

Back when he was still human - sex was traded for goods and services and not only for pleasure.

It was after all, the oldest form of currency.

There were however no fancy weddings or rituals that he remembered.

A woman and a man, or a man and a man, or a woman and a woman (and once he heard a man and a sheep - things that you remember) decided that he was hers and she was his.

And that was it.

Sometimes such vows were made in front of a weirwood - mostly for luck from the old gods and the Children - when they were still kind.

And it wasn't uncustomary - that they only shared their body with one another for at least a time.

But no one ever forbade exploration before that

Or made a woman's first time something you could sell.

Sex - that you could sell.

A male or a female or one blessed with both sets who could charge double could always sell it or trade it in his days.

Companionship you could sell.

Even love.., even love you could try to sell.

But selling the first time a man laid with a daughter?

That was just pure nonsense.

What were they trading?

It was like selling a scent from a flower.

He was even more confused when she told him it was only true for girl children - boys were expected, encouraged even to know what had to be done by the time the wedding night came.

So sacred was this that some families would witness the blood of the maiden spilled upon her first time to assure her purity.

So people that forbade pleasures of the flesh except in the dark behind closed doors paraded this one night in public?

He actually laughed at that.

In many ways the free folk were a lot more like the

humans he remembered.

What he saw and learned of their civilized counterparts was actually more barbaric than anything on his side of the wall.

" But my father wasn't like that, my brother isn't like that…," she was sad and again.

"You can save one brother, once" he grumbled quietly remembering the original cause of her sad eyes.

"Jon!" she said right away.

The one she thinks is her brother.

And he took a small vindictive pleasure about how little she valued - Bran the Three Eyed Raven.

That wasn't entirely true - Edaline actually loved Brandon Stark more than the moon and the stars.

Her sweet younger brother with his wild mischievous ways and their shared obsession of old tales as told by their old Nan had Edaline closest to Bran after Jon from all the Stark kids.

But they also shared the power of seeing and both had dreams of ravens and snow and being wolves and foxes.

They both saw and sensed the Night King beyond the wall.

So Edaline knew, without any doubt - what the rest of her family was yet to realize.

Her sweet little brother was already gone and her choice of the two was simple.

The creature that returned from beyond the wall may look like Bran and have his memories - but he would never be Bran again.

He was something Other and magical and no longer human, like the lover currently gently stroking her cheek with his sharp inhuman nails.

Where hot tears were coming in silent ugly streams out of her black eyes.

Edaline was asleep and he was riding up and down his ranks brooding.

He was very good at brooding.

His army accepted their new queen with no question, the mindless meat had no opinion, the icy generals that have been his companions for so long.

They silently approved her beauty and her loyalty to him. They sensed her devotion much like he could, the beauty was obvious.

They silently bent the knee to her when they arrived - she was puzzled until he explained.

"They are honoring their new queen"

"Oh"

"You had a queen before?"

"No Edaline, you are the first and the last and the only"

And she kissed him, and he was going to tell her there was some ridiculous prophecy that never fulfilled but her mouth was insistent and her hands were exploring and he forgot.

The Night King knew very well that his Edaline was pleasing on the eye to most men who saw her - regardless of tribe.

Large breasts and soft skin and rounded hips were favored during his human days and thousands of years later it seemed, while a lot of other ideal of beauty would wax and wane.

He also knew, without any doubt, that was she thin and blond with tiny delicious mouthful breasts, or

short and stout and kissed by fire like the women of his home tribe. Or round like a fertility goddess of old - with dusky skin and generous child bearing hips, he would find her the most beautiful woman that ever walked this world.

He was pretty sure infact, that if she was a beautiful boy who looked at him the way she did - he, who remembered only being with women, would mount and possess and love him just as much.

What made Edaline one and only is that bright blue icy beacon inside of her that reached out to him with such fervor he would level mountains to follow it.

It was the way she thought he was perfect just as he was - winter rage and icy skin and ancient magic.

That she without a second thought abandoned the world of the sun and the living and came to the land of always winter and the dead to… be with him? Why?

It gave her nothing, no power no riches no nobility, Just darkness and solitude for eternity.

And she chose that over everything she ever known to lay in his arms every night and have him inside of her for what seemed like every waking moment.

He smiled at that, she was insatiable inventive and downright… well, some things that came into her pretty little head never crossed the mind in his in 8 thousand years.

How is it she never laid with a man before him?

Something was tugging at him about that.

"And she shall be as pure as snow of always winter untouched by a seed of the living"

He brought his horse to a halt and raced it back to where Edaline was.

He found her in the snow playing with some of the blue eyed boy children.

He paused for a moment to watch her from the shadows, the scenes tugging at something he couldn't name.

She was building a castle, Winterfell - he knew, out of the snow.

She would be surprised to learn that hundreds of miles away, her older sister was doing just that very thing with a different little boy.

She looked up surprised and pleased to see him.

He would never get tired of that.

The only creature in the entire world who actually showed true happiness at his approach.

He got down off his horse and wrapped her in a passionate kiss, which she immediately took to mean they were going to spend time doing a lot more and began unhooking his armor before they were even in private.

He would never get tired of that either he mused as she kissed her way down his navel and took a slow lick down his hardness.

He should talk to her he thought - but instead of taking him into her mouth she licked further down his balls, down where they connected until her tongue was at his entrance.

She prodded it with her tongue until it was nice and wet and he felt her finger slowly slide in as she worked her mouth on his balls and her other hand on his shaft.

Before he had a chance to register how good it felt, she slid in a second finger - which was getting a bit uncomfortable until she plunged her mouth onto his cock sucking him ferociously and pushed her fingers just so.

Very soon he came so fast and hard he was actually taken off guard.

She continued sucking him off until he stopped spasming.

Licking off stray strands of his seed afterwards and swallowing those too.

And then sliding up to wiggle into his embrace.

Her mouth had that slightly swollen just fucked look, her eyes glistening with mischief.

He realized she was still dressed and so was he for the most part.

"Hello my love" she whispered.

This just wouldn't do one bit, getting caught off guard like that was unbecoming of his powerful position.

Edaline felt her lover grab her wrists and flip her on her back.

He looked like at her with malice - but she knew that just meant he wanted her even more.

She vaguely suspected he wasn't subject to the same limitations of mortal men and could go on over and and over if he chose.

She wasn't sure - he was her only comparison.

He blew icy air on her wrists that were held above her head, and bonds of black ice formed - holding her pinned down with the strength of iron.

He unceremoniously unlaced her top with a single wave of his hand, and slid her leather pants off her in one jest.

She asked him to stop shredding clothes off a while ago - as fun as it was, replacing it here was hard and involved unpleasant inventory of dead women in his ranks who had no care if their clothes was on or off.

But Edaline found the act distasteful.

Found hordes of dead mothers and children and old people heartbreaking, even after he assured her he had little to do with most of their deaths. (Which wasn't a lie)

She told him the male fighters didn't bother her nearly as much or not at all.

Most were rangers or wildring like Yarro - and had plenty of blood on their hands.

She had an odd moral compass this one, he wasn't sure it was the same as his - after all humans were just meat for his army to him, but he did understand it.

All humans except his delicious Edaline.

She felt him spread her legs wide apart and she felt two more icy bands clamp down her ankles.

He pulled up and admired his handiwork.

She knew he liked her tied up, the power hungry darkness in him drank her helplessness in like wine.

But it was that darkness that first spoke to her - so she was happy to please it, excited by it.

It made her nipples rock hard and her exposed cunt soaking wet when he looked at her with those feral ancient eyes.

She squirmed against her bonds - wanting the sensation of him on her.

He chuckled, traced his sharp nail down her breast drawing a drop of blood.

She arched her back and moaned at this, as he dropped down and licked up the delicious red drop that traveled down her alabaster flesh.

She moaned again trying to gain more contact with him, he lightly touched her wet clit with his fingertip - extracting a thrust and a loud gasp from her.

"Please, my king, I need you" she begged - he laughed mercilessly.

Now this…. this really WAS one of his favorite things to do with her.

He dipped his head between her legs and attacked her openings and swollen clit with his sharp teeth, his tongue and his fingers, and when he felt she was close, so close he abruptly pulled away and just watched her for a bit.

Squirm and beg at first, then get angry and call him a fucking cold hearted bastard. (It made him laugh)

Then he went back to work, bringing her to the edge every time and stopping, once, twice…three times.

She wasn't begging any more. She was throwing lightning bolts with her eyes at him.

The feral beast in her has reared its head and she hissed through her teeth, pupils wide and hair wild.

"You will not set me free now if you know what's safe for you" she growled, and he was amused and surprised the little fragile human actually meant it.

He smiled darkly and the icy bonds shattered.

He was thrown down by a tornado that climbed on top of him and bit his mouth while impaling herself on his rigid cock - he laughed out loud.

He also loved this feral recklessness of hers, this passion that drowned out common sense when it came to him.

No, he was still in control this time - he flipped her on her back like she was a feather and pinned her wrists above her head with just his left hand, and he fucked her - mercilessly and with little regard for his own strength.

He felt her climax around him multiple times, felt her bite his shoulder and cry out for him again and again.

He let her wrists go finally one his seed finally spilled into her with more force he could ever remember.

They just laid like this for what seemed like forever

"You truly are the root of all evil and must be stopped"

She grumbled into his ear.

"I never claimed to be anything less"

He murmured and kissed the tip of her nose.

He remembered he came to talk to her about something.

Must have not been important.