Duskendale

294 AC

Mormont had been up before dawn.

He rode into the woods and performed his morning routine there. Ran one mile, then he went to the docks and jumped into the harbor. He swam the full length of the dockside to one side then back again.

By the time he made it back to the Seven Swords, the sun still hadn't come up. He took a cold bath to let his muscles recover. Despite the shivering cold of the ice water, he smiled to himself. He already felt far less sluggish than he had back at Winterfell.

He got out of the tub a few minutes later and dressed. He put on his black riding trousers and dark brown leather boots. He wouldn't need to be dressed up for this excursion with Alyss.

Mormont dried his hair. The damp black ringlets had hung down in front of his eyes before he snatched them up and tied them to the back of his head.

Lastly, he threw on a thick shirt and strapped Longclaw to his belt. Starag wouldn't dare leave it behind. Not in the south.

He left the inn and walked to the nearby stables. Bear was standing at the ready, his beady brown eyes giving Mormont a sideways look. Up to no good again, I see. The look seemed to say.

Starag rolled his eyes.

He heard a quiet shuffling from behind him. Mormont spun around, Longclaw sprung free into his right hand and ready to gut the potential attacker.

"Oh!" The assailant's voice was startled and feminine. Even underneath her hood, Mormont could see those desirable ash-blonde locks of hair.

Starag felt his muscles relax as he sheathed Longclaw. Alyss stood with her horse just a few feet away. "Lady Alyss," he greeted warmly. "I'd expected you back at the inn."

Alyss had pulled back her hood slightly to reveal mischievous pale green eyes. "I was going to be there, but I saw you heading over here. I thought I would surprise you, though I don't think you like surprises all that much."

Mormont got the full picture of her now. Alyss was wearing a dark brown tunic that seemed a bit too large on her. Yet her pants were tight-fitting riding leathers, and her riding boots had heels. "Well, I do enjoy pleasant surprises." he nearly growled as he let his eyes roam her delightful body.

She blushed. It was surprising to see this Ice Queen of a woman blush like a little girl. "I… hope I've met your expectations." Her voice contained excitement and anticipation.

"You have." Mormont smiled at her, and she at him. "May I help you on your horse, Alyss?"

Alyss simply grinned. "Of course, Starag."

He had wanted to grip her thin waist, and so did she apparently. Mormont had no objections. He lifted the pale woman up gently onto her horse, and he nearly laughed.

She wasn't wearing anything underneath her tunic.

They had ridden out of Duskendale just a few minutes later, with Mormont having taken the lead. They went deep into the woods where nobody would dare look for either of them.

Mormont had glanced behind him as they both galloped through the trees and rivers of the Crownlands. He saw Alyss beam brightly right back at him.

They stopped by two trees standing parallel to one another. Farther in the distance, Mormont could make out a small rock outcropping with a river just below it. "Time to see if you match up Lady Alyss,"

"I don't think you'll be able to catch up with me, Lord Starag." The pale woman had said quite haughtily from her horse. He was still taller than her. "I've heard Northerners cannot ride a horse to save their lives; they are only mindless barbarians."

She'd taken her hood down now that they were alone. The sun had not yet risen, but her hair was still gleaming brightly in the fading moonlight. Mormont would've swept her off her horse and spanked her if he hadn't controlled himself.

"Perhaps… Yet all is fair in love and war." Mormont winked at her. Her smile had only widened as they lined up their horses. "To the river just a few hundred yards ahead."

Alyss nodded. As their horses had come closer, so had their legs. Mormont nearly lost control as he felt the woman's muscled thigh rub against his knee. He knew she was doing it on purpose.

"Now!" He set off immediately, Alyss closely following behind him.

Bear had darted narrowly through the trees, expertly galloping through the thick forest and wet morning grass. Mormont did not look back to see the girl. He felt the biting cold morning wind blast against his beard. It was always exhilarating to feel fast.

He knew there was nothing to be gained from beating her, yet there was no honor to be found in letting her win. So, he opted to win.

The outcropping on the other side of the flowing river had gotten closer as the wind violently brushed his face. Mormont leaned closer to Bear's head.

In the corner of his eye, Alyss had managed to catch up just a little. He could see the excited grin and the eyes filled with palpable danger and delight. Her laugh echoed in the rushing wind. It was beautiful.

Mormont had felt himself losing speed over Alyss's smaller garron. But as they came closer to the riverside, Bear had picked up and shot forward! Blazing right past Alyss and her garron at the last second.

Mormont had won. He urged Bear to a stop as they came upon the tiny beach in the woods. The sand was thick and sturdy from the morning chill. The rock cliff beyond was a wall of blanket darkness in the early morning.

"Well, Lady Alyss. It seems I've gotten the better of you." Starag said as Alyss had stopped beside him. "Care to try again?"

Alyss had pouted almost childishly at him. "Flaunting your victory, Lord Starag? That's not very gentleman-like of you..."

"Ah, but you yourself said I'm but a mindless barbarian." Mormont countered with a crooked grin. He hopped down from his saddle and offered his hand to Alyss.

The girl laughed delightedly at his remark and took his hand. She swung down gracefully from her saddle and right into his arms.

Mormont could not hold himself back any longer as they stared into one another's eyes. The pale green had gazed up at him longingly. He pulled her closer and crashed his lips onto hers.

Alyss's mouth was waiting for him. Her soft pink lips had opened easily, and her tongue wrapped languorously around his own. He felt her arms reach around his neck and pull him closer.

Reluctantly, he had separated from the exquisite blonde in his arms. She pouted again as he gently unwrapped her arms from his neck.

"Wait just a moment." He said. It was his turn to tease her. Mormont smiled to himself as he snatched the blanket he'd left bundled on Bear's saddle. "We'll have a picnic by the river. How's that sound?"

Alyss smiled brightly at him as if she was a little girl all over again. "I'd like that, Starag," she said as she turned to her own horse and pulled something from one of the bags clipped to the saddle. When she turned around, he saw that it was a small wrapped bundle.

"Fruit." She blushed slightly as she answered his question. "I didn't know what you liked… so I-I thought I'd just bring some berries from the kitchens…" she stopped as Mormont slung his hand around her waist. He was right. He could grip it with one hand.

"It's perfect, darling." He kissed her firmly again on the lips and another time on her forehead. "Come."

She wrapped an arm around his waist and walked with him. Her hand had slid up his back and was pressing lightly against the muscles. Alyss was enjoying herself, he knew.

Starag spread the thick and soft brown blanket out on the sand. "Boots off," he said sternly.

Alyss did as she was told, like an obedient child. She set to work on removing her heeled riding boots. Mormont again found himself wondering how the haughty and statuesque Lady Blount was now a purring kitten in his palm.

He reminded himself of his intense love for women. They always had this calming and healing power about them that men simply did not have. Mormont never could get enough of it. Of having a beautiful woman stare longingly at him in his arms while they made fiery and passionate love.

It only reminded him too briefly that this little tryst between him and Alyss would come to a close tomorrow or even the day after. The bitter cold had begun to set in again into his heart. She was a married woman, and she could not come to Bear Island with him.

Mormont shoved those thoughts aside as he took off his own boots and got a glance at Alyss's long shapely legs. She was tall for a woman, but it really didn't matter to Mormont. He simply wanted to tear up her tight pants. He knew she'd worn them to tease him.

However, it was Mormont's turn to return the favor. He leaned over suddenly and kissed her slowly again. Alyss began to lean back against the blanket, but Mormont stayed posted on his hand.

As they separated again, he saw the thinly veiled frustration on her face. Good. She'd been expecting him to take his prize then. Now she'll be much more forward.

Mormont unwrapped the bundle she'd placed between them. A cloth napkin holding fresh blueberries and strawberries opened itself to him.

"How long have you been riding, Alyss?" Mormont leaned back onto the blanket. "You rode very well."

"Not as well as you, Starag." Alyss shook her head. The ash-blonde waves had come undone as she lay beside him. "It seems I've been outmatched."

Starag smiled softly at the pale green eyes. "You do yourself a disservice. I grew up with Lyanna Stark. With her, one had to be excellent at riding."

Alyss looked at him rather curiously. "Lyanna Stark? That's the girl that Prince Rhaegar kidnapped, was she not?"

He nodded. A woman's curiosity was insatiable. "Yes. She was one of the best riders I knew."

"Did you love her?" The inevitable question had come. With their easier lives, women had a unique taste for gossip and drama. Mormont did not blame them. An easy life was a boring one.

There had been a time when he had less than honorable thoughts about Lyanna Stark. Of course, they had been cut short when he learned of her betrothal to Robert Baratheon.

Rickard Stark knew all too well of his oldest son's womanizing and was perfectly aware of Starag's adoption of the same habit. No doubt he was prepared in the case that Mormont had any funny ideas concerning his only daughter.

But… there was a drunken kiss he'd shared with Lyanna after she'd helped him back to his room one night. He could not remember what he said to her, and he did not want to either.

After that night, he had held himself back from the Stark girl. He treated her as a sister from that point forward. He had ignored her pained looks at him when she danced with some other northern lord. It was his duty.

Mormont had thought she was beautiful, in her own wild sort of way. He wondered if he had defied Rickard Stark that Lyanna might be his wife and Jon would be his son. Would she still be alive?

The haunting question in his mind had echoed its answer back at him. Of course, she would…

And how many lives would've been saved if he had? Far too many to count.

"Yes. As a sister, of course." Mormont would keep that secret to himself. It never did well to think too much of the past. He fixed a warm smile at Alyss. "But how about you? When did you learn to ride?"

He knew she'd seen him stare wistfully off into the river. She made no comment on it. Starag felt her warm leg slide closer to his. "I learned when I was seven. My mother taught me. I always loved the early morning rush of air as we rode along the Bay of Crabs…"

"And your mother? Is she…"

"She passed away when I was twelve." Alyss had said. She smiled sadly at him. "I… She taught me everything I know. She was a proper lady. She said I would be the Lady of Driftmark or even Dragonstone one day…"

Mormont pulled her closer to comfort the girl. She came into his arms gladly. "And when she died… I didn't know what to do. When I turned six and ten, my father told me he found a match for me…" she trailed off as her lip curled upwards. Blount.

Alyss seemed on the verge of tears. "He sold me off. And I…I…" She steadied herself. "I couldn't stand him."

Mormont knew she was talking of her husband. Her distaste for the man was clear to see. He didn't know why others hadn't noticed. Or perhaps they pretended not to.

"He… takes his pleasure sometimes." She spat out. "Whenever he gets drunk with his men, he'll come to my bed and…" Her voice had briefly gone back to that emotionless tone. Tears had begun sliding down her red cheeks.

Starag did not doubt her story. He had no reason to. He only had another crime to mark against Horace Blount.

Arthur had once told him how King Aerys would rape Queen Rhaella, and how he'd make the Kingsguard stand outside her chambers while he did it. Her tormented screams would echo in the halls of the Red Keep.

He saw the overwhelming regret in Arthur's eyes as Dayne told him that story. How any man could rape his own wife was beyond Mormont. It only made him angry to his core.

Starag had felt the same disgust and fiery loathing as Alyss had told him of her life. Her life for the last several years. He would kill Horace Blount if he got the chance.

"I always take Moon Tea." Alyss sniffled in his arms. "I would rather die than carry his child," she said pleadingly as if she was trying to convince him. In an odd sort of way, it seemed like she wanted Mormont to absolve her of her sins.

Starag kissed her again on the lips, this time with a smile. Her hands explored his face and wrapped around his neck. He wiped the tears away and kissed her cheek. "Sounds like you need a course of TLC."

Her prior sorrow had been replaced with curiously raised white eyebrows. "What's TLC?"

"Short for Tender Loving Care treatment," Mormont said as he slid his hand underneath her tunic. She didn't stop him. "It's what Maesters write down when a lord's child is injured." He lied.

Alyss did not bother to correct him. She only smiled at him with lazy pale green eyes. "I'd like that," she said. Her breasts were cold to the touch. They were also hard and firm with desire. "When will it start?" she asked.

Mormont lightly squeezed the pale woman's right breast. "Now." His mouth came down on hers like a bolt of lightning.

The two lovers had returned to Duskendale just a few hours later. The sun had begun to rise in the east just over the harbor as they came into the market square. Mormont left Alyss with a warm kiss on her forehead.

She had not been the best girl he'd ever slept with. Most girls were not very skilled at sex, at least, not the ones he preferred.

Mormont did not like the girls who were considered 'public property'. He liked 'found' girls. Girls who he would meet on his travels, girls who he could sweep into his arms and cradle and care for. Girls who would forever belong to him until the day they died.

Alyss was one of these 'found' girls.

Yet Alyss held a deep, warming passion in her eyes. She had wild and pent-up energy about her. Something she had been keeping locked away for years. Despite her awkwardness when it came to lovemaking, he knew she had been desperate to please him. Especially when she had huskily whispered in his ear as he had entered inside her. "Love me, Starag."

And as a parting gift, she had given him a long strip of pale green silk. The same fabric as her dress. A favor. He coiled it around his arm and let it be.

From the marketplace, Mormont had ridden back to the Seven Swords. He had a big day ahead of him, and he wanted a suitable breakfast.

Mormont ate breakfast with Jon. Afterward, he got his armor on and the two of them had gone to the tourney grounds just outside the city walls. Judging by the small crowd of smallfolk and the still gathering nobles, they had been early.

"Starag!" Wendel Manderly had marched down from the stands and surprised Mormont. "You slept well, yes?"

"A little restless, but I got off eventually."

Wendel nodded and pounded his fist against his chest. "Good. I've come to wish you luck today. That Blount fellow is a rogue who must be put down!"

Rogue? Blount was no rogue. He was a rat, a rodent who needed to be exterminated and wiped from the face of the Earth. "Indeed he is. Don't you worry, Wendel. I'll handle him."

"Good!" Wendel nodded. "I look forward to seeing him be thrown from his horse." He turned to Jon and gave a bow. "Lord Stark." With that, the Manderly Knight had left them and joined the other nobles in the stands.

The first tilt of the day was Blount and the Lord of House Shawny, a tiny fiefdom in the Riverlands. Blount had won after four tilts.

Soon after, Mormont was up against the Velaryon bastard, Aurane Waters. The greenboy had sidled up on his horse at the other end of the long patch of sand. His hair was nearly as pale as Alyss's.

Mormont looked to the stands. Alyss stood there, holding a glass of wine in her hands. Her mask had resumed that statuesque mask of Lady Blount, yet in her pale green eyes Mormont could see the concern and worry for him quite clearly. He still felt the soft fabric around his arm, coiled like a snake.

Starag glanced back at his competitor. He did not know this Waters boy. He would not be merciful either. He had gold to win, for himself, and for his family and people. Jon handed him his lance and shield.

Huhuhummmmmm! The trumpet had bellowed.

Mormont sped off on his horse again. He easily lowered his lance so it was steadily pointing towards Waters. The greenboy had lowered his own lance, albeit not as skillfully.

Crack! Their lances had smashed into the other's shield head-on. Mormont's lance had broken against Water's shield. He tossed it aside while Jon hurried over with another.

Mormont took it and charged again at the Velaryon boy. Aurane Waters seemed to do well enough in the saddle, but Mormont knew he had this one in the bag.

Thwack! Aurane Waters toppled over and fell from his saddle as Starag thrust his lance into the boy's flat shield. He fell into the sand with a thump!

"And the winner is Ser Starag Mormont!" The herald cried out.

The smallfolk cheered while the nobles clapped from the stands high above. Mormont ignored them all and rode over to Water's still prone body. He was still alive. Dazed, but alive.

Mormont treaded off towards his end of the strip. He gave his lance and shield off to Jon. He was thirsty.

Starag was about to order some water when a serving girl appeared out of nowhere. In her hands was a bucket of ice-cold water. "This is for you, m'lord." She said.

"From who?" Mormont asked. He looked to Jon, but his squire had only shrugged in response.

The serving girl stepped forward slightly and smiled conspiratorially. "Lady Blount, m'lord. She wanted to thank you for your morning race."

Mormont glanced up at the beautiful pale woman standing by the same corner they'd met. He grinned when Alyss had winked playfully at him.

"Thank you." He smiled at the serving girl.

The water was refreshing, and exactly what Mormont had needed. He turned back to Jon. "Who's up next?"

Jon grinned. "Blount," he said. "You've made it to the finals, uncles. You didn't know?"

Mormont gave Alyss another glance and then looked back at Jon. "I didn't sleep too well," he said and left it at that.

A few moments later he saw his opponent across the narrow strip of sand. Blount was still wearing the exact same armor as he had the day they met at the Inn at the Crossroads. Mormont was determined to no longer suffer this pitiful man's existence.

If he was going to humiliate Blount, he might as well get paid for it.

Starag got back up on his horse and began trotting to the middle of the strip. Blount had looked at him with narrowed, confused eyes. The lordling got on his horse and came to meet Starag in the middle of the field.

"Blount," Mormont said without emotion.

"Mormont." The lordling had his lip curled upwards in disdain. "A pity you Northmen don't know how to ride horses. Such beautiful creatures should not be in the company of savages."

Blount was trying to goad him. To get him rattled. It would not work. Mormont had spent a good bit of time around the Queen of Thorns. He was accustomed to better and expertly placed barbs.

"Let's make this final tilt interesting," Starag said as he raised his voice. Just enough so everyone could hear. "If you win, I will give you 1,000 gold dragons. If I win, you give me 1,000 gold dragons."

That had gotten everyone's attention. The nobles had ceased their gossip and the smallfolk had quieted down to a whisper. Everyone was waiting to hear Blount's answer.

Horace Blount had been sufficiently surprised. He'd probably expected Mormont to get angry and embarrass himself. Still, the lordling readjusted himself. "Deal," he said proudly for all to hear. Clearly, he had no intention of losing.

Mormont had successfully laid the bait. Now all he had to do was let his porcupine fall into the trap. Then, Mormont would rake him down with his claws. "Excellent. May the best man win," he said as he turned around and trotted away. Behind him, Blount did the same with a disgusted huff.

Jon handed him his lance and shield. There was a worried look on the boy's face. "Will you be careful, uncle?"

"Always, lad." Mormont smiled at Jon. Then he glanced at the glamorous pale woman on the railing of the stands. Alyss was holding her glass tight to her chest as she looked on, worried. It was to soothe herself, Mormont knew.

He lined up his horse along his side of the strip. Blount had pulled down his visor. Mormont could see the cruel smile of Horace Blount. I'll knock you from your fucking horse.

Huhuuhummmm! The trumpet had rung out into the silent grounds like thunder in a summer storm.

Mormont charged forward on Bear, his horse gaining speed and momentum as they galloped forward. He felt the power surge into his right arm.

He lowered his lance, the point aimed right for Blount's chest.

Thwud! Mormont held his shield steady as he felt Blount's lance hit and slide off it. Mormont had also hit the lordling, but it had little effect other than making Blount shift in his saddle.

Mormont turned around again and charged off towards Blount. This time, he leaned forward a little in his saddle and tipped his lance to the side.

Crack! His lance had broken against Blount's shield. The Crownlands lord had nearly fallen backward but had saved his grip on his horse at the last moment, staying in his saddle.

Starag rode back again to his side of the strip. He was about to toss his broken lance aside when Jon pointed behind him. "Uncle! Look!"

Mormont turned his head to see what was happening. Blount was already charging again down his lane. Shit.

How had Blount turned so bloody fast? Starag shook his head. It didn't matter.

He glanced at his broken lance as he turned around and began charging down the line. It would have to do. Blount would hit him first, and then Mormont would have to use all his power and strength to withstand the blow.

"Ride like the wind, Bear." He said to his warhorse. Bear had responded with a nod as he galloped faster and harder forward. This would be a close one.

Even as Blount had begun charging first, Mormont quickly caught up to him in the middle. Holding his shield slightly backward, he prepared himself for the impact of Blount's lance.

Just before Blount had pinned him, Mormont threw out his shield in a mighty forward bash against the tip of the lordling's lance. Crrrrack!

Blount's lance had broken effortlessly, though Mormont's arm had been badly bruised. He felt the shockwave from the impact explode throughout his left arm before the bitter stinging pain had set in.

He grit his teeth with the pain as he followed up on the final stroke. As Blount was wobbling off-balance, Mormont thrust his broken lance hard into the man's shield with all his power and momentum behind him.

It worked! Blount's feet had left his stirrups as the lordling rolled back on his shoulder and fell off his horse and into the sand. Thwump!

Mormont heard the cheers of the smallfolk and the loud clapping of the nobles behind him as he rode around the man's prone form and trotted back to Jon. His squire was beaming proudly at him.

"And the winner is-"

"Uncle!" Jon's face had set into a horrified shout as he glanced behind Mormont.

Starag glanced around just in time to lean forward in his saddle. A gleaming steel blade soared where his head had just been. Mormont spurned Bear forward and out of the way.

Blount was full of surprises. He was startlingly fast with how he'd gotten up and retrieved his sword. He must've had it on his own mount.

Behind him, Horace Blount was running after him with a large sword in his hands. An angered and twisted satisfaction had set into those ugly brown eyes.

"Sword!" Mormont shouted to Jon as he rode to the end of the strip. He jumped off his horse and tossed aside the broken lance. Blount was getting closer.

Jon tossed Longclaw over to him just as Horace swung down his greatsword. Mormont blocked the attack with his shield and caught Longclaw by its handle.

He shoved Blount backward, briefly sending the man off balance while Mormont tugged off Longclaw's fur sheath, revealing the smoky black waves of Valyrian Steel.

Mormont strode forward with an ice-cold expression on his face. Deep inside, however, he was relishing this chance that had been given to him by the Old Gods.

Blount swung his greatsword again, this time at Mormont's side. Slow. Starag effortlessly parried the wide blade. Blount had made his greatest mistake. Swordplay was Mormont's specialty.

Soon enough, Blount was forced back onto the defense as Mormont played with him like a cat would play with a mouse before he ate it. The panicked look on Horace Blount's ugly double-chinned face told Mormont that he knew he was outmatched. Sloppy.

The greatsword came again for Mormont's head, but Starag's killer instinct had set in. This dishonorable scum Blount had tried to kill him when his back was turned. That was it.

Mormont caught the swing with his shield, feeling the wave of pressure peel into his arm again. He ignored the jagged pain that spiked up his arm and pressed forward. He felt Longclaw slice through the man's armor easily and penetrate his flesh.

He pushed the blade through Blount's heart and out through the other side of his chest. Right to the hilt.

Horace Blount dropped his sword and looked down at the Valyrian Steel blade in his chest. There was almost a pained look of confusion on his face. Mormont could see Longclaw protruding from the man's back. "B-But…" Blount muttered to himself.

Mormont pulled him close. So nobody else would hear what he had to say. "The day you threw my squire against the wall was the day you signed away your life. Know this Blount," he glanced up at Alyss. Her eyes had a sort of grim satisfaction about them. "I fucked your wife hours ago. I spilled my seed inside of her. She's going to have my son and he'll inherit your gold and your lands. And there's nothing you can do about it."

Blount's brown eyes had shuddered upwards at Mormont in a panicked fury. Anger and surprise danced in those eyes. All Blount could do was croak out a jagged hiss as blood began leaking from his mouth. He was finished.

Mormont pulled Longclaw clean from Blount's chest. The lordling gave him one last murderous look before he fell backward into the sand. Thump. Lifeless.

Starag glanced up to Renfred Rykker. The Lord of Duskendale nodded at him with a grim look on his face. Who could blame Starag Mormont for defending himself? Anyone would've done the same.

He turned around and began walking away from the body that had used to be Horace Blount. Jon stood in front of him looking like one of the statues of Winterfell. Expressionless.

There were no cheers as he walked away.