Chapter 51: Siege of Moat Cailin

In the south…

Dorne...

Arianne Martell POV

Arianne was in the Prince's study, reading the parchments that the lords sent her from their castles and the one that her uncle sent her.

The Dothraki and the Lannister destroyed the castles at the mouth of the Greenblood. He retreated from Lemonwood and now he has split the army making them into several groups, and attacking at night, using the so-called guerrilla attack, that they used against the Targaryen from the past. But Arianne wasn't stupid. She knew that soon or later that time will come to face them off in an open field. And she hoped that when it will come, all Dorne will be united against the invaders.

"So, my beautiful wife. How things are going?" her husband asked, grinning, as he entered into her solar.

"Good," she replied, placing the parchment down, and resting her back on the back-chair. "But it would be better if the Marcher lords and especially yours, came in the defence of Dorne."

"They are coming, my love. I told you that it takes time to gather the full force and march towards Sunspear," he replied, stopping behind her, and placing his hand on her shoulder starting to massage. Leaning, he whispered, "I hope you are pregnant. I can't wait to hold our son in my arms."

"Or daughter," she said, as her mind drifted to Hellholt where her little son was. The light of her life.

"I'm sure it will be a son. A warrior prince. I can feel it in my heart," Cletus replied eagerly.

"Whether it's a boy or a girl it won't matter if the invaders conquer Dorne," she replied, pushing his hands away, and getting up, before crossing her arms and leaning against the desk, so she could look him in the eyes. "Tell your father that if he doesn't want to do it for Sunspear, he should do it for his grandson. When he arrives of course."

"I will," Cletus replied, approaching her, parting her thighs, and starting to kiss, but she stopped him, receiving a groan of frustration. "If we don't fuck then no child will come."

"I can't do it when my people are out there, dying," she said, pushing him away, and sitting back on the chair.

"What will make you open your legs?" he asked, and she, smirking replied, "Your army. Maybe. Until then, you are not welcome in my bed."

With that, she returned her attention back to the parchments, as he left the solar unhappy. She will have to send more men to Hellholt to protect the future of Dorne should she fall in the war against the Dothraki. Her all prays were with Morgan right now.

In the North….

Different POVs

They were a few days from Moat Cailin but stopped for the men and the horses, to get some rest. They marched at a high pace, for many days, to get there in time, but now they need rest.

Rhaegar Targaryen lead half of the Unsullied and the Stark soldiers to the Fever River. The other half to the Moat, giving the upper hand to Maegor Targaryen. And of course, the Company of the Roses too, who bent the knee. Jon didn't know if they could be trusted, but if they didn't attack Rhaegar yet, it means that they can be. Or at least, loyal to the gold. And they will have them, once back in Winterfell and the hidden chamber opened.

As he was looking at his men who were eating and drinking near the fireplace, Jon heard his wife says, "What is this brooding face, my love?"

"Nothing. Just worried for the battle," he replied, wrapping an arm around her, and bringing her under his coat. They stayed in silence for a while, enjoying each other's embrace. He missed this very much during the Beyond the Wall campaign.

"I miss them, Jon. I miss them dearly," she said, trying to repress a birthing sob and leaning her head on his chest.

"I know. I miss them too," he replied, kissing her forehead and squeezing her to him, feeling her shake for a moment, because of the silent cry. "However, I promise you that soon you are going to see them again."

They stayed that way for a while, as Daenerys was slowly, stopping from the cry, and enjoying each other's warmth and embrace, listening to the laughs of the men in the distance and feeling the cool air caressing their skin and wave their hairs.

"Changing the topic of the conversation, I want to ask something that I should have done way before now. What is the plan for the battle?"

Sighing and stoking her side, he replied, looking at his men, "It's complicated. But as soon as we get there. I will tell you where you will stay."

"I won't stay in the back like a helpless maiden," she said, and Jon chuckled, placing his forehead on hers, and rubbing his nose with hers, he said, "I expected nothing less from my warrior queen."

They started to kiss, slowly and savoring the moment. As their tongues were, battling for domination, Jon jokingly said between the kisses, "I hope our tongues won't freeze from the cold." And that made her giggle too against his lips, as Jon brought up a hand to grope her breast, making her moan in his mouth, while she placed her hand on his cock, which was starting to harden.

"I want you, my queen," he whispered, and she nodded, breaking the moment and moving away, all seriously, and he didn't know what she wanted to do.

Closing the tent, Jon followed her right behind, but nevertheless stopping to admire her, even though she still was dressed, because she was the most beautiful woman on whom he has ever laid his eyes and saw Daenerys grin over her shoulder, as she started to bring down her white coat fur, revealing her beautiful skin.

"Come, my king."

Jon immediately unbuttoned his tunic, throwing it away, following by the chemise and then the boots. Now barefoot on the cold ground, he approached his beautiful wife who keeps grinning at him over her shoulder, and once he was right behind her, Jon wraps his arms around her, giving a small squeeze to her body, and starting to kiss her exposed skin, leaving a trail up her neck, before capturing the soft and delicious lips.

Daenerys on the other hand, moaned, starting to move her ass slowly against his hard cock that was struggling to stay in the trousers.

"No man has ever been more lucky than me," Jon whispered as his tongue entered in, and with his hands, opened the fur clock completely.

His wife didn't reply, as she took his hand and slowly, started to move it downwards inside her open trouser, and place it on her now wet pussy.

"By the Old Gods, you are soaked," he said between kisses, feeling her smile, but never break contact of their lips.

Jon started to move his hand slowly over the lips of her pussy, as Daenerys made sure that her trousers fell to the ground. That gives him even more room for stroking her better and more slowly, teasingly over her slit.

"Jon…mmmm," she moaned his name, running her hands through his curly hairs, and at that moment, he thrust two fingers in her and starting to move his hand while keep kissing her.

He went that way for a few moments, as she tried to clench her legs, for sure because of the building pleasure, and that also meant her coming was near, but Jon had no intention of letting her come right now.

When he pulled out his finger, Daenerys broke immediately the kiss, snapping her eyes open, and looking at him with fiery eyes, but Jon, smirking pushed her forward and making her yelp when she made contact with what was their bed made of furs on the ground.

He stopped to admire her for a moment. Her beautiful naked body, her curves that he loves to wander. Her beautiful breast that he loves to touch and suck and pinch. And those beautiful violet eyes that now were full of lust and love.

Shaking his head from this little moment of bewitchment, Jon immediately untied his trousers, pushing them down and freeing his cock that stayed immediately to the attention. He strokes himself for a moment, seeing Daenerys lick her lips. She wanted to suck him for sure, but that was for another day.

He approached her immediately, bending down right behind her, and grabbing her hips.

"So it's from behind you want to take me, eh?" she asked even though it wasn't really a question, and Jon, grinning, took his cock in hand and brought it to her entrance, stroking the tip along her wet slit for a moment, receiving moans from his wife.

Once he was sure that she was ready, he pushed his cock in with owned but slow thrust, making her arch the back and opening the mouth with closed eyes. A heath inside engulfed around his cock, her tight walls were starting to

"I'm going to fuck you so hard," he whispered, grabbing her hips, "that tomorrow you will be struggling to ride."

With that Jon started to give slow and powerful thrust, receiving a yelp and a moan for every of it, before increasing the speed. At the same time, he started to grope her everywhere, wondering his calloused hand on her soft skin. Running them along her sides, giving light smacks to her ass, before grabbing her shoulders to move her up.

Daenerys from her part was responding to his thrust, moving her hips, and stroking her clit. And when her back was against his chest, and Jon grabbed her breast, increasing the speed of his thrust, even more, Daenerys started to rise and fall, moving her hips, till he could feel her come, and she couldn't do more, which left him as the only one in charge.

Jon pushes her down against the furs, and Daenerys almost laid flat there. Her weak and sore body no longer could hold her up, but her thighs were widened open, giving Jon the possibility to grab them and start to thrust even faster than before.

However, he could feel that his coming was near, and after two more powerful thrusts, he pulled out, spilling his seed on her pussy and ass, before collapsing right next to her, panting.

She was panting too and suddenly started to giggle, as he turned towards her confusedly.

"What is it?"

"Nothing. I'm just happy to have you back," she said, crawling over him, and starting to kiss him slowly.

Jon stirred when he heard the men outside already woken up, but he was still sore because of the last night. They fucked and fucked till they could no longer, and now his wife was sleeping peacefully on his chest, and Jon smiled to himself.

Her naked and warm body was a pleasant sight to behold now, compared to the cold sword that he hugged during the nights beyond the wall.

Pulling some locks behind her ears, Jon started to trace her visages with his finger. Running them down her jaw till the chin, caressing her full beautiful lips, and receiving a sleepy moan, that made his stir and harden right against her.

Damn, they need to get up and march, but all he wants to do right now was make love to her.

"You are thinking to loudly," she said in a sleepy voice, making him chuckle and reply, "Actually I wasn't thinking. I was-"

"I know. It was a figure of speech. I can feel your hard cock, husband," she cut him off, grabbing his cock, and starting to stroke him slowly.

Jon closed his eyes, enjoying the sensation, and before he realized it, she already moved down and started to suck him eagerly.

"Old Gods….Dany…" he groaned, seeing for a moment the furs that were covering them rise and fall at her rhythm, before he closed his eyes again, and squeezed the furs with one hand, will biting his other arm to not moan and groan loudly.

He didn't last long till he starts to come right in her mouth, and breathing fast, feeling her come out under the covers, and sit on his abs. She was wet too, and he needs to take care of her too, but at that moment, they heard Arthur say, "Your grace. The men are ready for the march."

"Damn him!" murmured Jon releasing a frustrated sigh, and Dany, looking down at him, smiled, saying, "You will have the chance to return the favor."

And he nodded, gripping her hips, and pushing her down, making her yelp and giggle, before getting up.

"But, the sight to see is quite glorious," she commented, at seeing him walk naked to the water that was there, and Jon knows to what she was referring. Grinning over his shoulder, he started to wash himself. Gods it was cold as fuck.

Moat Cailin…

After a long and bloody journey, in which he lost many men, but preserved the siege weapons that were the enemy's target, Edmure and his army finally reached this ancient fortress of the first men who repelled any enemy from the south since the time of the Marsh Kings. The land was full of swamps and mud, which will make difficult the assault to the fortress.

"Summer snow, your grace. It's a bad sign for a war on this land," said Ser Brynden Blackwood, as snowflakes could be seen flying in the air.

"Yes. I heard that. They said that when there is summer snow it means that the North is coming. Do you see the North coming, Ser Brynden?"

"No, your grace."

"Good. Now, Ser Brynden, give the orders to start the deployment of the siege weapons, and the raising of the camp. I want trenches to be built in front of our camp, behind us, and on the sides. I don't want for the enemy to outflank us."

"Yes, your grace," the heir of Raventree Hall replied, adding away, as Edmure waited for the tent of command to be placed. He needs a long rest before the coming battle, and he hoped that Jonos Bracken will not take long to bypass these lands with the cavalry and attack the enemy from the northern side, which was weaker to the assaults.

"I'm not a great commander, your grace, or a strategist, but it's madness to attack it," said the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard. "We may end to besiege this fortress for weeks before it truly falls and, at that moment, the northern army may come here and break the siege."

"Bolton will come," Edmure replied, even though he doubted. That cunt of flying man won't come. He wouldn't risk helping a southern army pass the strongest point in the north and have free passage to the heart of it.

Rhaegar and his army have finally reached from the northern side the fortress of Moat Cailin defended by Maegor the Hammer of the Old Gods and his five thousand men.

The unsullied and the Stark-Targaryen bulk have been sent to the Fever River to outflank the enemy, while the sellsword Company was with him. They will have to keep the enemy's attention on them so that they don't go to the mouth of the Fever River.

When the gates opened, Rhaegar and his army entered inside, seeing the defenders already in position, while Maegor was waiting for him in the middle of the courtyard. Climbing down from the horse, Rhaegar greeted the commander, "Ser Maegor."

"Rhaegar."

"How is the situation, Ser?" asked Rhaegar as they started to head towards the southern gates of the fortress.

"Well, as expected, Tully deployed his men at a great distance from our walls, and started to dig trenches a few miles away, out of the archers' range."

"Any news from the Lords of the Neck?" asked Rhaegar and Maegor shake his head, but before he could add, they got interrupted by a man who shouts, "CATAPULTS!" and they heard the wall starting to get bombarded with stones.

"Let's go boys. Sent these southern cunts back to the shithole from where they came!" Rhaegar hears the young voice of a boy shout from the wall, and one of the trebuchets inside Moat Cailin throws a stone.

"Is your grandson the one leading the defence from the walls?" asked Rhaegar when he saw a young man with short silver-blonde hair on the main wall.

"Yes. Aegon," replied Maegor, and Rhaegar could see a glimpse of proudness in his voice. "He is young and eager for battle and glory. Just like our young king, he is young, but knows how to lead."

"I'm sure he is, but no one is like King Jon, and we all know that," replied Rhaegar climbing on the wall, seeing the army in the distance.

"Cousin," greeted him the young Aegon.

"Aegon. Thank you for having led the defences. I will take the command from now on."

"Why? These men are ours. Why should they follow you instead of me," the young boy said with arrogance in his voice, and Rhaegar gives him a glare.

"Your young age may make you think that you are capable of holding the reins of this war, but you are not. War is not just about wielding a sword. War is something much more complicated than you think, young Aegon. So, I suggest you go back in line, down under my command."

The boy gives him a dead look, and without another word left the wall as the two sellsword commander climbed on.

"You have made a new enemy."

"He is just a boy that wants to prove himself nothing more," Rhaegar replied, glancing at Aegon. "You are great warriors and commanders, what do you think of what we have ahead?"

"Seeing how the lands around are? The enemy doesn't stand a great chance against this fortress. But I'm sure he is waiting for something. Maybe someone attacking from the north. Maybe us."

"Did Bolton hire you for this?"

"Maybe," Thorkwin said. "We were hired to attack your precious capital for sure."

Rhaegar nodded but said nothing. He will have to keep an eye on them after what the sellsword said.

Fever River…

With six thousand mounted men, Jason Bracken reached the Fever River, from which the ancient fortress of the first men is less than twenty miles away, never expecting that an army of Unsullied would be there waiting for him, considering that according to their sources they should have been busy fighting the Bolton.

"Our road is barred it seems, Lord Bracken. What do we do?" asked the young Ser Hugo Vance, with a very worried expression, and Jason didn't blame him for that. Everyone knows the reputation of the Unsullied across the world following the victory of Qohor and now in front of them, there was a great number that was blocking their way.

"We need to breach their line, Ser Hugh. Outflank them and attack from the sides to prevent them from getting back in defence position," Jason replied, and the young knight nodded, though the wordiness was displayed on his face. "To you Ser Hugh, the right side. Hendry left side. Both of you need to try and slaughter the archers that are behind the Unsullied."

The two knights rode to their position as Jason pulled out his sword. He will charge at them straight, in the hope that the impact of the first line will knock the enemy down, and the other could slaughter them, though the spearmen are the anti-cavalry unit.

Once everything was ready for battle, Jason took a long breath, before glancing to the sides, and nodding, shouted, "Sound the Charge!" And all the horns that they were carrying with them started to sound, and his chivalry charged.

Jason tried to keep his horse steady as his men were taking more and more speed to clash against the enemy, who seemed to hold their line fearlessly. However, right before they made contact with them, the enemies, broke their position, starting to retreat, and at that moment, when he finally realized it was a trap, his men fell in a trench full of pointed sticks.

Damn them!" cursed Jason, before turning to the one who was near him, "Recall the men.! Sound the retreat!"

But it was too late. A rain of arrows started to stream on his men from the sky and coming from beyond the trench, and the horses were in panic. The muddy ground made it even more difficult for them to retreat as they were slipping and falling over his wounded men. It was a real chaos, while the enemy, started to attack them with their spears.

However, not everything was lost. Jason in the distance saw his other two groups of cavalry charge right towards the weak spot of the enemy, but it seems that one was a mistake too, as Hendry fell right in the trap and the arrows too started to rain on them.

There was nothing he could do. He couldn't retreat, because the men were in chaos, and he couldn't attack because the men were in chaos.

"Damn them all! Rise the white banner, Ser. We surrender," Jason said, not wanting his men to die in this way.

Moat Cailin…

The cold night was on them, but no one inside the castle was sleeping. The enemy ceased to fire the stones, but Rhaegar could see in the distance that the enemy too wasn't sleeping or at least some of them weren't, since he could hear laughs in the distance.

"Quiet peaceful nights are this," said Maegor stepping next to him and bracing the wall of the fortress to hold himself a bit. Despite his strength, the old Targaryen was still an old man, that got out of breath easily. Gone were the days when he was strong and could fight for three days without resting, eating, and drinking.

"Yes. But not enough I would say," replied Rhaegar, and at the same time tightening the cloak around himself.

"I forgot to inform you that we received news from the Twins. The sellsword sent by the King or the Queen took the seat of Mouse Frey, and almost all the members of it are gone."

"Good. It means that our southern shores will be defended. We will settle some wildings down there or some second son of a great house and it will be up to you to send men down there in help."

Maegor didn't reply, as Rhaegar glanced at him and saw the old man has sealed jaw and scratching his beard as he was looking at the enemy camp, that was lightened by beckons at every ten feats it seems and the same could be said about the guards between them.

"Tell me, Rhaegar, are you afraid of the night?"

"No. Why?"

"I was thinking that we can pay a visit to the enemy's camp," the old man said, smirking and Rhaegar caught the meaning of that and what he wanted to do, and damn was agreeing with it.

"Chose your best warrior. Archers and men at arms. But I want them all without armour."

Maegor nodded, getting down from the walls, while Rhaegar, after taking another glance at the enemy's camp, got down too, and headed straight to the two sellsword commanders.

"I want you and ten of your best warriors. And I want them without armour," he said and one the sellsword, crossing his arms, asked, "Why?"

"Execute the orders if you don't want to die," Rhaegar replied, and growling at him, he moved away.

Edmure was lying on his bed, in his tent, looking up into the void. He felt so tired, but it's seemed sleep didn't want to come. No news has yet come from Lord Bracken since the moment he sent him to Fever River, and the men he sent did not return, and that meant they were dead. Six thousand men less he had now.

"Your grace, May I come in?" he heard Oswell's voice from outside.

"Yes," and he saw the Lord Commander enter. "What is it?"

"We aren't late to go back, my king. There is still time and we have enough men to defend ourselves till the Riverlands."

"I didn't take you for a coward, Lord Commander. I thought you were eager to fight in the north as I was," Edmure, said, chuckling.

"I am but-"

Suddenly they heard shouts and yells from outside, and without armour, and grabbing the sword, he immediately went outside, followed by the Lord Commander, seeing his siege weapons in the distance and the tents of the men on fire, plenty of dead bodies all around pierced by arrows, and men in chaos.

"What in the seven hells-" cursed Edmure grabbing one of the men that was running. "What happened?"

"The enemy. They attacked like ghosts. We didn't see them coming," stammered the man with a frightened voice, before running away.

Edmure looks at when, starting to curse all the Seven for this situation and trying to bring the men back to order. Not only he lost men on the march. Now he also lost the almost only advantage he had on them.