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Alyssa I Targaryen

Book : The Long Night

Chapter 10: Muster at Winterfell

Beta:

Trigger warning: Canon typical underage

Alyssa sat in the howdah on Ghost's back as he flew out of the Gate portal that opened onto the plateau upon which Karhold set ahead of the relief force that she had mustered in response to the urgent Message from the castle's Maester informing her of an attack by an army of approximately thirty thousand wights.

A quick glance at the hordes of wights cutting their way through the Karstark's outer defenses, Alyssa judged the man had made a reasonably accurate guess as to the enemy's numbers.

At least someone in Karhold can carry out their duties properly. Alyssa thought with angry disdain even as Ghost, and Drogon and Rhaegal flying behind him, dove and began strafing the wight hordes.

At the same time, the twenty thousand men she had brought with her from Castle Black charged out of the Gate and towards the besieged castle whose defenders were putting up an admirable defense despite their overwhelming numerical disadvantage, having managed to keep the wights from even getting into its walls.

Perhaps attempting to capitalize on the dragons' distraction with immolating the wights, three dozen wight giant javelin throwers that had previously hiding in the surrounding forests made themselves known by shooting a volley of their projectiles at the dragons from concealed positions in the woods.

"Wall of Fire!" Alyssa cast, creating a barrier of flames that consumed the wooden projectiles well before they could come close to the preoccupied dragons.

Ghost sent a burst of thanks at Alyssa even as he continued to strafe the wights with the other dragons, bringing a slight smile to her face.

"Looks like this was an attempt at a trap for us," Loras commented as Alyssa used a Meteor Swarm to take out the bulk of the javelin throwers. The rest would need to be taken out separately but she was confident she could manage that before the spell even cooled down. If not? Well, she could just use it again to finish the job.

"Looks like," Alyssa agreed as she used Flame Strike on another javelin thrower even as the dragons having largely finished with the lesser wights, the remainder now being too closely packed with their own forces to risk using their dragonfire, happily turned their attention to the pesky wight giants and burned any within the range of their breath. "He's underestimating us."

Despite what she said however the Others' plan was not without merit. Karhold's relative closeness to the coast made it an especially important castle as it defended one of the major routes by which the armies of the living was being kept supplied. Even now as the number of Gate capable mages grew day by day, the bulk of the supplies still came by ship.

Worse thanks to Lord Rickard Karstark's incompetence, he had not evacuated his lands ahead of time despite the Night King's forces being spotted just a stone's throw outside of them thus allowing the Others to reap a deadly toll among his smallfolk and adding many freshly slain to the ranks of their wights. Transforming what likely started as a small spoiling raid into a full blown attempt at taking Karhold.

Not that the last aspect of that gambit succeeded as it took less than an hour for Alyssa and the dragons to end that threat with their magic and dragonfire.

Time to have words with Lord Karstark. Alyssa thought, her fury at the lord burning furiously as Ghost came in for a landing as the last of the wight mobs were dealt with, leaving only stragglers to be mopped up. I sincerely hope he is ready for what I have in store for him.

The evening after the short Battle of Karhold, Alyssa found herself attending a feast in Karhold thrown by Lord Rickard Karstark to celebrate the victory.

Considering Lord Karstark's incompetence had led to the battle in the first place, Alyssa felt the whole thing was a farce. It was his lack of vigilance over his lands that had allowed the wight army to reach his castle almost completely undetected, likely killing and adding to their ranks thousands of smallfolk on his lands along the way. In light of that, what was there to celebrate? Yet, her men did not think that way. To them a victory was a victory and worth celebrating. Thus here she was, sharing in their celebration.

And feeling intensely uncomfortable all the while. Not just because she thought the whole thing unjustified and little more than an attempt by Lord Rickard to buy some favor with her in the wake of the brutal rebuke she had delivered to him earlier but also because the man had seated her next to his daughter Alys and obviously told her to attempt a seduction. The very low cut dress the poor girl must have been forced to wear was telling after all, especially since it was very much not in the Northern style.

Alyssa was flattered and even found the tall, skinny, coltish girl as attractive as she remembered back when she had first met her when she'd come to Winterfell all those years ago but she felt none of the spark that signaled to her that her magic found the girl compatible. Perhaps worse was the fact that the girl was as clearly uncomfortable with what she was doing as Alyssa was with receiving the attention.

"You don't have to you know." Alyssa whispered to the other woman, cutting her off as she tried for the sixth time to strike up a conversation since her parents had taken to the dance floor. All whilst trying to discreetly show off her very modest bosom. Whilst they suited her body shape well, Alyssa herself had a more generous set of breasts and was thus not impressed. "Seduce me, I mean."

"I, uh, don't know what you mean, your grace." The madly blushing girl stammered out.

Alyssa just smiled at her. "If you say so. But honestly stop. Pretty as you are, I'm not interested."

"Oh thank the gods," the pale girl said with a sigh of relief.

"You don't fancy women do you?"

Lady Alys shook her head.

"I do not, your grace." She admitted. "And more importantly, I was betrothed to Daryn Hornwood, heir to the Hornwood before he-"

"You have my sympathies." Alyssa told her comfortingly. "My brother told me he was a brave warrior."

He told me no such thing since the Hornwood boy never ever came up in conversation but she does not need to know that.

"Thank you, your grace."

"May I ask why your Father asked you to seduce me?" Alyssa asked despite already having a good idea.

"He is an ambitious man, your grace." Alys said with a shrug. "I love him but even I think he is overly so much of the time. Plus, he's afraid you will punish him for his failure to evacuate our lands quickly enough."

"He expects I will make him pay the Ironborn Price?" Alyssa asked, referring to the name that had been coined for the fate she forced upon the Ironborn and had become synonymous with her cruelty.

"He fears you might, your grace."

"And you are to be his peace offering?"

"His attempt at one," Lady Alys confessed. "If I can secure my place as your Northern lady all the better."

The mention of 'her Northern lady' brought an image of the adorable Lyanna Mormont to mind but Alyssa hastily dismissed the thought.

"Your Father has no need to fear me." Alyssa assured her. "He will answer for his failure, but not to me. My brother Robb and your own smallfolk will pass judgement when the war is over."

"That is fair," Lady Alys said sounding surprised. "Thank you, your grace."

"I always try to be fair."

Alyssa was about to add more when she sensed the light presence in her mind of an incoming Message.

"Apologies Lady Alys but I've received a Message. If you'll pardon me." Alyssa said to Lady Alys with an apologetic smile.

"Of course, your grace." Alys said with an accepting nod before turning to her brother Eddard that sat to her left and drew him into a conversation.

With Lady Alys distracted, Alyssa accepted the telepathic link and an unfamiliar voice entered her mind.

Your grace? This is Maester Tybald from the Dreadfort. I have urgent news.

What is it Maester? Alyssa demanded. Considering the general mistrust most Maesters held for magic in general, few would deign to use magic, even if many had learned at least the Message spell by this point, unless absolutely necessary.

Our scouts have reported a large wight army moving through the Lonely Hills towards Winterfell.

Alyssa paled as the news sunk in.

Hours later, Alyssa was strapping herself into her throne on the howdah on Ghost's back whilst engaged in a telepathic conversation via Message with Robb in Winterfell. Her brother having traveled back to the Stark ancestral seat via Gate the moment she had notified him of the incoming attack.

Yes, after you I contacted the rest of the commanders along the Wall. She told her brother. They'll be mustering what forces they can spare.

Good. I've also had Randall, the new Maester here in Winterfell, get in touch with the other Northern Houses. Those with Gate mages will start arriving by tomorrow, the rest-

Might not make it in time. Alyssa sent as she queried her Queensguard if they were secure and received a positive response.

Don't be pessimistic sister. Robb told her sternly. We can do this. Winterfell will not fall.

I wish I could share your blind optimism Robb.

Her brother was about to reply, but she cut him off.

We can continue this in person in a moment. I'll be there shortly. See you then.

With that she cut the link and sent a mental command to Ghost to take to the air which he did without hesitation, joined moments later by Drogon and Rhaegal. She did not know what her late Aunt's sons thought, but she imagined they shared Ghost's eagerness for battle. They must know that the urgency with which they were moving now must mean imminent action.

I hope they aren't too disappointed. Alyssa thought idly as she readied her magic.

"Gate!" She cast, opening a portal to the Kingsroad just south of Winterfell castle.

The moment the portal opened, Ghost flew through it and seconds after Alyssa was flying over her childhood home.

Seeing the majestic castle once more stirred a mix of emotions in Alyssa, many of them happy but all of them tinged with the fearful anticipation of what was to come. For this homecoming, as evidenced by the thousands of men marching abreast out of the portal far below, brought war in its wake.

"You're a Hornwood man," Lord Roose Bolton said in lieu of a greeting to the rider with the sigil of a brown bull moose on a field of dark orange emblazoned on his tunic as his and the man's force of riders stood on the banks of the White Knife. "What are you doing here?"

"Much the same as you I imagine, my lord." The man, clearly of smallfolk stock, said rather rudely. Normally Roose would have a man flogged for such impertinence but a war against the Others was hardly normal times. "Scouting for the exact location of the Army of the Dead."

Roose nodded. It seemed he was not the only one who felt the need to send scouting detachments out to ascertain the enemy's location while their Houses' main forces waited their turn to head to Winterfell using the Queen's Gate spell. Though he was happy to see, he at least had the courage to lead the dangerous mission himself.

"Did you hear that?" The Hornwood man said suddenly, looking around them suspiciously.

"No, I hear nothing but the sound of the river." Roose noted as he realized what the man meant. All the sound of wildlife that surrounded them, limited though it may be due to it being winter had suddenly disappeared. Even the sound of the river somehow seemed muted.

"Defensive formation!" He shouted as he drew his sword. Unlike the rest of his men who he had equipped with the strange dragonglass clubs, he had insisted on continuing to use his sword. He was too old and set in his ways to bother trying to master a new weapon anyways.

The Hornwood man echoed his call and it was as their men were still pulling their horses together when the abominations struck.

Surging out of the woods, they appeared from the shadows suddenly. There were hundreds of them coming at them from all sides. Far too many for their paltry hundred or so riders to defeat.

"Make a break for it!" Roose ordered. "Charge them before they can bunch up!"

The men, his own and the Hornwood riders both, obeyed. As one they galloped through the thinnest point in the enemy mob, cutting down any undead they could with their weapons as they tried to escape. Dozens of the rotting wights fell and just as many were trampled under their horses' hooves but the enemy was relentless.

Soon their charge stalled as the weight of enemy numbers created a wall of undead flesh that they simply could not cut through. A few riders had managed to get through, thankfully, but most were trapped and surrounded by undead on three sides and the White Knife on the last.

"Ride to Winterfell!" Roose shouted as those riders who had escaped the encirclement. "Warn them!"

"We're gonna die!" The Hornwood leader said fearfully as he found himself next to Roose once more.

"Aye," Roose admitted. "But let us sell our lives dearly. For the North!"

"For the North!" The living roared in defiance as they bravely dove into the final fight of their lives.

Seated on the weirwood throne at the High Seat as befit her rank as Queen, Alyssa watched as a small band of ragged looking men in Bolton and Hornwood livery was brought before her in Winterfell's Great Hall. She felt uneasy sitting in this seat, which part of her from her past life insisted was Robb's and never hers but it was Robb himself who been firm that as Queen the seat was hers so long as she was in Winterfell.

A startled gasp pulled her from her thoughts and she turned to see the recently legitimized Lord Larence Hornwood looking shaken by the condition of his men. Seeing he had caught her attention, he quickly schooled his features though his eyes still visibly shone with concern for the new arrivals.

"What do you have to report?" Alyssa demanded of the men.

"We were out scouting for the Army of the Dead under Lord Bolton's leadership, your grace." A grizzled Bolton, apparently the leader of the men, said as he stepped forward. "But we were ambushed by the enemy and massacred. We are the only survivors."

That means Roose Bolton is dead. Alyssa realized even as part of her cheered. While she had spared him her wrath due to his talents and a desire to not destabilize the North, Alyssa had never forgotten his role in the Red Wedding during her past life and thus she reveled in his demise. But I can celebrate later. For now, I need more information.

"Where did you encounter the wights? And how many of them were there in the group that attacked you?"

"We only lost our pursuers about two days ago," The Bolton man said causing uneasy murmuring to engulf the gathered nobles of Alyssa's court. "And the force that ambushed us along the White Knife a week ago must have been at least a thousand strong.

Too small for the main force. Alyssa mused. A vanguard or scouting force perhaps? Or a 'recruiting' force?

If it was the latter, then the Night King would be sorely disappointed. Unlike Lord Karstark, Robb was no fool and had used every resource at his disposal to evacuate the countryside ahead of the Army of the Dead. Even redeploying Gate mages from the task of mustering warriors to do so. He would find few victims to add to his ranks.

"Pardon my impertinence, your grace." Lord Larence Hornwood suddenly said as he stepped forward to look at Alyssa with a determined glint in his eyes. "But the men are tired. They need their rest."

Alyssa privately approved of his concern for his men. As expected of a former bastard. He has a closer connection with the smallfolk than most pampered lords. I should give him some sign of my approval later.

"Very well, Lord Hornwood." Alyssa said nodding towards the young lord. "Please arrange for their care."

"Robb, as Warden of the North what would you do with the Dreadfort now that Lord Bolton is dead." Alyssa asked, turning away from Lord Hornwood escorting the scouts away. "The castle cannot be left leaderless. Is there anyone who can inherit the title?"

"No," Robb said with a frown. "Lord Roose has no more surviving children."

A shame I couldn't save Domeric Bolton by killing Ramsay sooner. Alyssa thought sadly. Word had it that he was a good man.

"Considering that we can either select some distant relation to inherit or gift it to another House."

"There is no time for that. Not now." Alyssa told him with a frown before turning to Maester Randall. "Maester, contact Maester Tybalt at the Dreadfort and inform him of the news. Tell him also that by my authority as Queen I appoint the captain of the castle's garrison-"

She looked to the leader of the Bolton detachment that had arrived via Gate the day before expectantly.

"Steelshanks Walton, your grace." The small and round man going by Nage supplied. "He's the captain of the household guard."

"Thank you," Alyssa said with a nod to the man before turning back to Maester Randall. "Tell Tybalt that Steelshanks Walton is appointed by my authority as temporary lord of the castle."

There were shocked murmurs at her decision from the gathered lords but Alyssa didn't care.

While she did not know the man by name, she had researched the Boltons and their household in the past. How could she not considering the grief they caused her family in her past life? And she knew that he was known to be loyal and brutal, but not cruel.

And most importantly known to the people of the Dreadfort and its lands. Alyssa thought. That makes him an infinitely better choice as lord than an outsider. As such, so long as he does not betray me, after this war I might just ennoble him and grant him the seat permanently. But those are matters for another time.

"That I think is all the business I have time for today," Alyssa said as she stood. "I still have troops to Gate in. Robb, you have your court back."

Robb rolled his eyes but still managed to rise and offer her a courtly bow as Alyssa walked off, waiting till she left the hall to retake his seat and continue with receiving audiences.

An hour later, Alyssa looked down from a window in the Library Tower as troops form Sunspear arrived through one of her Gate portals and were met in the courtyard below by Prince Oberyn and those of the Sand Snakes that had accompanied him North all those months ago. The lot of them having traveled down from Castle Black via the same method earlier.

"Not going to join your Father in welcoming them?" Alyssa asked Elia as her lover wrapped her arms around her from behind and rested her head on her right shoulder.

"My Father has it handled," Elia told her sweetly. "I'd rather say hello to my wife."

"We're not married." Alyssa reminded her.

"Not yet," Elia said cheekily. "I expect that to change shortly after this war."

"Over the objections of the Faith?"

"The High Septon is our man isn't he?" Elia said with a shrug that Alyssa felt. "He won't stop us."

"You've spent too much time with Margey and Jeyne." Alyssa said with a sigh. "They've corrupted you."

"They aren't the only politically minded woman who I share a bed with." Elia said with a giggle. "Speaking of that-"

"Not now," Alyssa said with a shake of her head. "I still have a dozen different forces to Gate in by day's end."

Even if I desperately want it! I need a break from everything!

With everything progressing so quickly since she had left Castle Black for the Battle of Last Hearth, she had not had the chance to truly relax. Much less spend time with her lovers.

"You're working too hard." Elia said as she pressed a kiss to the side of Alyssa's neck, causing the Queen to tilt it upwards to give her more access. "Besides I'm sure you, of all people, can multitask."

"I might," Alyssa admitted as she fought the urge to mewl in pleasure as Elia showered her neck with kisses.

"Then let us test it." Elia breathed into her neck.

"Here?" Alyssa asked, her breathing picking up speed especially when Elia grabbed her breasts and squeezed them gently.

"If you want." Elia said as she began biting lightly at the flesh of Alyssa's collarbone that the dress she had chosen for today had left exposed.

That'll leave a mark. I'll need to wear a high collared dress tomorrow. Alyssa thought idly as she allowed herself to melt into her lover's touch.

"I always liked the library," Alyssa said half-seriously as memories of childhood fantasies of laying with someone in the very place she now stood played through her mind. "Ravish me, Elia. Ravish me!"

"As my Queen commands."

Done!

Rickard Karstark is ambitious? Which lord isn't? Alyssa doesn't have a Northern concubine yet and he has an available daughter, what mildly ambitious lord wouldn't at least try to nudge their child at her in the hopes of their child getting the position? Sure encouraging Alys to actively seduce Alyssa might have been OOC but as was pointed out in the story, he just screwed up so there was an element of desperation in his actions.

Yay! Roose is dead! You didn't think I'd let him live did you? He might not be Ramsay Snow but he is still guilty of some very heinous crimes. Did you think Nameless (aka me) would let him go that easily?

Why the smut at the end? On a personal level because I wanted it there. On a narrative level it's because Alyssa needs it. She has been working herself to the bone since the Battle of Last Hearth without any chances to relax and she needed some time to unwind.

Well that's it for this chapter. Till next time rozlúčka!