Dragonborn Gothic 3 - GOT
Part 14
Winterfell. The North.
With a gasp, I snapped back to reality and I let go of the Weirwood tree as the visions came to a sudden stop. I'd seen so much, and it felt like more than should be able to fit into a single human mind had been shoved into my head. I'd seen the magical practices of the Children of the Forest, the occult ceremonies of human sorcerers, the creation of new White Walkers by the Night King, the animation of the wights, the magics done by those who served the Lord of Light.
Now I understood how to warg into animals of all kinds and which plants of this word could be combined to create potent medicines. I was fairly certain that I could ride a dragon of this world despite not having the right bloodline. Something that might come in handy later on.
I knew that the old gods of the North were actually the spirits of Greenseers, those Children of the Forest and humans with the gift of magic. They'd become part of the Weirwoods after they died, they could speak to each other, and show other Greenseers visions of the past, present and future so as to educate and guide them. They had little power to affect the physical world, but they had great knowledge and so if were someone like me then they could teach you a lot.
All the knowledge of this world was stored in the Weirwoods and if you had a powerful enough Seer, such as the Three-Eyed Raven you had someone who could share the knowledge of the past with others. With Bran's help, I could see how the old gods (the spirts of the Seers) had planned things out. Before I'd come here things had been playing out in a certain way to lead to an end. Not a good end, as the spirits could only do so much, but at least in their plan, human life would survive.
Now that song, as it was called, had to play out a certain way, but it was not a precise plan, it was rather flexible, and it had to be because the Night King was also a Seer of sorts and had his own plans. He wasn't in a rush because he had an idea of the future and so could manipulate it to an extent to give himself an advantage. I didn't fully understand how visions of the future worked when it came to planning out the future so I focused more on the past, wanting to learn all that I could.
I'd learned much about the Dragonriders of old Valyria. During the visions, I'd seen how the Valyrian Freehold was essentially this world's equivalent of the Roman Republic: a vast, now-fallen empire on such a grand scale and possessed of such advanced technologies (relative to their time) that peoples living in the dark age following its collapse viewed it as awesome and the stuff of legends. A lot of magic had been involved in the creation of the Valyrian cities as well as Dragonfire.
I'd even seen the Doom, which had been a cataclysmic volcanic triggered by some sort of massive ritual performed by the most powerful of the Dragonriders. The Fourteen Fires, the volcanos that surrounded the Valyrian Freehold erupted simultaneously, and with such force that it shattered the Valyrian Peninsula, leaving it a storm-wracked chain of islands surrounded with poisonous fumes, and wiped out almost every dragon in the known world.
In the aftermath of the Doom, the eight colony-states threw off their Valyrian overlords, most of whom were already dead and became what would be known as the Free Cities, eventually joining one another in trade and commerce links, along with the Secret City of Braavos to the far north which had been created as a haven for escaped slaves.
I'd watched the Targaryens travel to Dragonstone, and then centuries later being their conquest, the last three true Valyrians took to the skies above Westeros and began their conquest. It hadn't been as bloody as the histories suggested, with most enemies simply surrendering when faced with the prospect of getting burned alive by three dragons. I'd even seen the Mad King yelled 'burn them all' because he'd been driven insane by seeing the future.
"Now I understand why do you don't spend much time in the present," I said to Bran as I stood up.
He wasn't really Brandon Stark anymore, or be more accurate he wasn't just Bran. I'd thought that Bloodraven had downloaded into Bran as part of his plans, but it wasn't like that. Oh, Bloodraven was still around, he was with the other spirits and they in some sense had become a part of Bran, or at least that was my understanding of all of this. I didn't think that even I could really comprehend how all of it worked, but if I was right then the Three-Eyed Raven was an intermediary between the living and the spirits of Seers who might as well be gods given their vast knowledge and while they had limited power over the living they could guide people on certain paths.
"You aren't alone inside you," Bran/the Three-Eyed Raven said, "and I don't mean the dragons, they roar inside you but they don't speak, there's another like you in your spirit, he talked to me".
Arya, who'd been watching over us since we were vulnerable when outside of our bodies along with Aela, decided that we were both crazy and she had to mention it. We just ignored her.
"That's Miraak," I told the Greenseer "I am the Last Dragonborn and he was the first. We battled and when he died I swallowed his soul so I now am the only Dragonborn still living, but he still exists within in some sense, and he was not a nice man. He enslaved people and tried to have me killed".
Arya decided to ignore the bit about souls and ask about something else.
"You've never fully explained exactly what a Dragonborn is," she said, "Can you tell me?".
"Dragonborn, Dragonborn, by his honour is sworn, To keep evil forever at bay! And the fiercest foes rout when they hear triumph's shout, Dragonborn, for your blessing we pray!" Aela sang.
Despite that song, I couldn't recall anyone ever praying to me, not unless begging for help counted.
"A Dragonborn, or Dovahkiin as dragons call us, is a mortal blessed with the blood and soul of a dragon by Akatosh, the Father of Dragons and chief of the Divines, who are the gods of the world I used to live in. Those with the blessing have an extraordinary aptitude in the use of the thu'um, the Shouts, and I can absorb the soul of slain dragons" I did my best to explain "This makes us feared and hatred in dragons, as unless their soul is taken in by a Dragonborn they can be restored to life by another Dragon.
There was more to say on the matter.
"The first known Dragonborn was Miraak, he was a dragon priest who died back when the people of Aela' world were ruled by dragons," I told Arya "He tried to rebel against his masters, but it didn't work out, he ended up getting stuck in a world ruled by a Daedric Prince".
I'd told Arya parts of my life story before, but she still didn't understand, and that was okay as I didn't understand all of it either. I just knew that I wasn't truly mortal like other humans, aside from my great powers, my ability to take in dragon souls, there were other signs that I wasn't like other men. My sense of time was different, years had gone by and I barely noticed, and I felt fairly certain that I didn't age any more, I didn't think that I'd become immortal, I could die but I didn't think I aged like a mortal man.
"All you need to really understand is that I am a champion of a dragon god and might as well be a dragon disguised as a human," I told Arya.
And if the visions I'd been shown were correct then I would indeed be the one to slay the Night King and save this world from an eternal winter. That was the sort of thing a champion should do.
"I'll spend some time training with you tonight" I promised Arya as we began to walk out of the godswood, leaving Bran to whatever it was he did when communing with the Weirwood, "For now I need to make sure that the dwarves can fix up Winterfell before the army of the dead gets beyond The Wall".
With the work at Dragonstone done, as Dwarves worked hard for their money, I'd diverted them up here to fix up Winterfell and to install defences. I'd also been making trips to the Wizarding World so that I could buy some cool magic junk for the Northern Lords who didn't hate magic. They wanted their castles and holdfasts fixed up by dwarves so I'd needed to hire even more dwarves.
Some of the dwarven clans were talking about moving to Westeros and setting up in mountains in the North so that they go back to building weapons and tools to trade with humans as they used in Harry Potters world before the Statue of Secrecy made it illegal. If a deal was made then I would help them set up and lay some Muggle-repelling wards around their new home to keep them safe while they set up their own defences.
As for the remaining Children of the Forest, they'd gone down to The Isle of Faces which was a sacred island in the middle of the lake called the Gods Eye, located in the southeastern Riverlands. It is one of the few known locations of Weirwoods in the south of Westeros, with most others having been cut down and burned. I'd used some wand magic to make sure non-magical humans (Muggles) would never go near the Island.
"We'll have to return to Dragonstone soon" I then informed the two women with me.
Meera was avoiding Bran because she thought he'd died in the Three-Eyed Raven's cave, were as I thought he'd been transformed rather than having died, so she'd gone off to visit her home, and would rejoin us later.
"My Queen is on her way," I said.
Finally, Miss Stormborn had decided to leave Slaver's Bay and having become convinced that the militia forces than had been trained and supplied would be able to fight for their own freedom and she coming to Westeros so as to reclaim her father's throne. I wanted her to come to Dragonstone because there were things I wished to discuss with her and things she needed to see before we invaded the southern parts of Westeros.
(Line Break)
Winterfell. The North.
As the door opened Sansa looked up from where she was sitting on the bed and smiled at the person who had entered Lord Gothic's bedroom, only then to frown when she saw who had entered the room.
"It's about time you showed up….Arya?" she asked in surprise.
She'd been expecting the Dragonborn, who'd been staying here in the castle after bringing Bran back from wherever it was he'd been while north of The Wall. When Gothic told her that he'd decided to refuse her offer of marriage it had upset Sansa, not because of romantic interest, she'd wanted to bind the great warrior to her house via the union of marriage so that he supported the Stark rulership of the North as he did that Targaryen woman's ambition to become queen. With his power and resources in service of Winterfell, the South would never be able to threaten the North again and Sansa would be safe.
While he'd refused her it hadn't been bad news. He'd brought Sansa some fine gifts for both herself and the Northern Lords, and with the dwarves, who were apparently a separate race from men like the Children of the Forest rather deformed humans, the castle of Winterfell would become an unbreakable fortress and the Dragonborn had given some of the best warriors in the North some exotic weapons that were superior to anything a smith could make. Such generosity had won him many allies and the Stark family now had a stronger position here in the North.
Sansa hadn't given up on getting Gothic as a husband, so she'd started taking magic lessons from him. When she'd been younger she would have listened to her Septa about the evils of magic and stayed away from anyone involved with spell-casting, but Sansa's experiences in the southern kingdoms had destroyed her faith in the new gods, and for all their talk of Knightly virtue and being civilized it was those in the south who'd acted like the savage barbarians that the northers were often accused of being.
While having spells to defend herself with would be a good thing. Sansa was mostly using them as an excuse to spend time with the Dragonborn. She'd always assumed that Arya was doing the same, and judging by her presence her in Lord Gothic's room late at night she'd been right.
"What are you doing here?" Sansa asked her younger sister.
The question was sent right back at her.
"What are you doing here?" Arya demanded to know "in Gothic's bed, late at night, and why are you not wearing anything?".
Sansa brook out into a smile which caused Arya to give her the nastiest look she could muster in return. Arya wasn't naive, she knew that there was no need for Sansa to meet with the Dragonborn in his private quarters for a simple lesson, at least not so late at night.
Arya started fuming and began to step back from her sister, intending to storm off in a dramatic fashion as teenage girls were sometimes known to do even if they were called Arya Stark. Only when she turned around she bumped right into a large man who was wearing dragonbone armour and that was the sort of thing that would stop you right in your tracks.
"So I have both of the Stark sisters here at the same time," said Gothic "Sounds like a recipe for disaster".
Arya was not a happy girl.
"You've been sleeping with my sister. For how long?" she demanded to know.
She'd suspected this, and she raged inwardly about the idea of them getting married, but this was different. Finding your older sister, the sister everyone had always gone about when mentioning how pretty she was, in the bed of the man that Arya admired so much was not easy for her handle.
"I sleep with any woman I want to," said Gothic as he began to undress "You've always known that, and I think you're old enough to have sex with me too".
Arya had been waiting far longer than she would ever care to admit to hear Lord Gothic say those words. She'd never liked the fact that he didn't see her as a fully grown woman, and now that seemed to have changed.
"Why now?" she asked.
Gothic smiled at her.
"I always worried that you might stab Sansa in the neck if you found out that we'd gone to bed together," he said, "But when I saw that you weren't going to do anything so drastic I realised that you were more mature than I'd thought".
Arya watched the Dragonborn undress and then she looked at her sister before deciding that she wasn't going to go off and sulk like a child. Instead, she watched as her teacher had stripped off and began washing in a water basin using some strange things he'd gotten from that other world they'd visited that made him smell much nicer than other men. She used some of them, such as the paste for the teeth and the scented soaps that were a bit too girlie for her, but they did make her feel cleaner.
Before long Gothic and Arya were kissing and the kiss continued on for at least several minutes, with Gothic bringing Arya over onto the bed so that they would be more comfortable. As they locked lips her hands start fumbling with her own clothes, but she couldn't manage to keep kissing and undress at the same time. Taking pity on her younger sister, Sansa got up and helped her little sister undress. She'd realised that the one Stark girl couldn't ensnare this man that maybe two could. He could only marry one of them, but perhaps Arya could tie the Dragonborn to Winterfell.
While they had different reasons for going along with this both sisters soon began to act together when they rubbed the man's muscular chest and start working down his abs, getting closer to part of him that both of the young Stark women badly wanted to get their hands on. Sansa might be using sex in an attempt to control the Dragonborn to some extent, however, that didn't mean she didn't enjoy this sort of thing, and Arya just wanted to live out some of her fantasies. Not that Sansa had made an appearance in those daydreams, but other women had.
When Arya got down to her mentor's hard dick, she found that she didn't really have much of an idea of what do next. She knew how to have sex, she'd listened enough to the older women she knew to have a good idea of what of went on behind closed doors, but right now she simply didn't have a clue what to do, her mind had suddenly gone blank.
"Sansa, why don't you show your little sister how much you love her?" advised Lord Gothic.
For a moment it seemed as if Sansa would refuse, but then she smiled and turned her sister around so that they were facing each other. Soon both sisters stood before the warrior and they were both naked. Arya didn't understand why she was becoming more and more comfortable being with her sister in this way.
She knew that her teacher had great power, and many people seemed drawn to him, and wanted to make him happy, something to do with him being a dragon in the body of a man. It didn't work on everyone, as lots of people mistrusted people they didn't understand, but Arya wanted to make her mentor happy as he made her by taking the younger Stark lady on adventures and teaching her about magic.
The two sisters kissed and let their hands roam up and down each other's bodies as Gothic watched the performance. He didn't watch for too long as he wanted to join in so he moved over and placed his hands on their firm rears. Arya pushed back against the lord's hands, knowing the rather liked a woman's backside and when she slapped hers she moaned like a slut as she really liked the attention she was now getting.
When he moved his hands down to their cunts Arya could not have described the feeling it gave her in words. He knew how to make them both feel good between their legs and neither sister was able to stop kissing and fondling each other as their young pussies were played with. Sansa didn't care that it was her baby sister whose tongue was wrestling with hers, she'd even stopped caring why she was doing this, her lust now controlled her.
"I hope that you're both ready to go for me," said Gothic "because I'm ready for you".
Gothic instructed both of the Stark women to go lie down on the bed and to spread their legs. The power of the Dragonborn was best heard when he shouted, but even when he spoke softly the two sisters could hear the authority in his voice. At times such as this, they could only obey him.
"Perhaps I should show my little sister how this cock should be taken properly" suggested Sansa.
Arya moved so that she could watch Gothic's large cock slip between her sister's narrow lower set of lips, inch by inch as the older sister lowered herself on to the Dragonborn's large manhood. She kept watching as Sansa slide herself all the way down onto Gothic's cock and then pushed herself up before slamming down again. She kept doing this, increasing her pace until she was riding the Dragonborn with greater skill than Sansa had ever shown while sitting on a horse.
Another thing that Arya didn't fail to notice was how much her teacher enjoyed watching Sansa bounce up and down on him. The younger Stark woman knew that she should be able to do this better than Sansa, who'd never had much skill at doing anything that didn't involve playing the part of a noble lady.
"Give your sister a turn" Arya demanded.
The little wolf, as Gothic sometimes called her, was touching herself, making sure that she would be wet enough for the man who would soon be her lover. Arya didn't doubt that once Gothic had taken her maidenhead that he would want to fuck her all the time, and unlike Sansa, the younger Stark would be at the side of the Dragonborn for many years to come. Arya had no desire for marriage and children, but maybe Sansa and she could share?
"In a minute. I'm so close, and he'll still be hard enough to de-flower you once I'm done" the Lady of Winterfell replied.
Sansa wasn't as greedy as she could be, she had her climax soon enough, having been nicely warned up with the sister on sister action so she dismounted and the Dragonborn turned his attention to the younger sister. He was soon on top of her and with one push, Lord Gothic pushed his cock into the virgin pussy of his student.
Arya had heard more than once that the first time hurts and she did feel a sharp pain at first, but she was used to pain due to her hardships, and the man who was now her lover, took his time, he didn't start fucking her until after Arya had begun to adjust to this new and wonderful feeling. The longer he spent inside her and the deeper his manhood went the more Arya wanted to submit to him. She'd always done what Gothic wanted because he'd gave even more back, but now she wanted to do things like this for him. To ride him, to be fucked, and anything else he wanted as long as it felt good like this.
No wonder Meera kept sneaking into his room. Now it made so much more sense that Aela and Lydia followed their lord around like loyal dogs. She'd be his little wolf from now on, she'd bark for him and whine for his cock, and only ever do that for him because only he could bring such a wild wolf to heel.
"It feels so good! Fuck me harder my lord" she begged.
Before long Arya received what called be considered to be a heavy pounding from Gothic. For such a small woman she took more of him inside her than some would imagine as possible. Arya herself would marvel at it later and wonder why she'd ever worried about the pain.
She didn't even mind Sansa moving around the bed so that they could kiss some more. All the resentment she'd felt towards her older sister no longer mattered, all that did matter is that they both worked to pleasure their lord. He liked looking at them as they kissed, it aroused him and Arya knew this as he began to pick up his pace, driving into her deeper, it hurt and yet felt good at the same time.
Just when Arya started to worry that she'd be split in half by Gothic's manhood she felt his seed fill her. She'd wondered how it would feel, and she'd imagined it being a rather nasty experience having a man's seed inside, but she found that she rather liked it, and she most certainly wanted more in the future.
(Line Break)
Dragonstone. Westeros.
I walked down onto the beach with Aela and Lydia following behind me as the warriors known as the Blades formed an honour guard. Arya, my apprentice and now lover as I'd finally taken her to bed, she walked at my side. She represented House Stark and the North on behalf of her family and as such, it was right that she stood behind me as we greeted our visitor. Arya was also here to ensure that supplies of Dragonglass were shipped to the North, but we left that to the Dwarves who were natural miners and had their own methods of magical travel which were unique to that race.
The first ships to arrive did not contain anyone from Essos, rather the people coming ashore now were Ironborn, I'd been informed of their coming by the Queen via the magic mirrors we used to keep in touch, that Yara Greyjoy, who had ships faster than the Essos made vessels, would be coming here to introduce herself and to use the island as a base as her Reavers scouted out in advanced of our Queen's main force.
From what I knew my new ally Yara Greyjoy was the Lady of the Iron Islands and Lady Reaper of Pyke, the daughter of Balon Greyjoy, as well as the older sister and only surviving sibling of Theon Greyjoy. She was raised at Pyke, the stronghold of House Greyjoy. Rumour told me that Lady Yara was a fierce warrior and commanded her own ship, the Black Wind, that must be the ship I could see from here.
After the assassination of her father, Lady Yara laid claim to the Iron Islands, but when the Ironborn chooses her uncle Euron Greyjoy, who murdered Balon, as their next king, she and Theon were forced to flee with a portion of the Iron Fleet and their loyal followers. Yara and Theon became allies with Daenerys Targaryen. I'd paid the Faceless Men to kill Euron, but even those elite assassins sometimes failed at a job.
According to my visions, The Three-Eyed Raven was still spending me some of those, Euron Greyjoy had bent the knee to Tommen Batheron, who was really nothing more than a puppet of his Great-Uncle Kevan Lannister and the Tyrell family. That alliance might have tried to take Dragonstone from me if they weren't so busy with the problems with the Faith and threats from Dorne. I didn't know what Euron wanted from the alliance, but I doubted that it would be anything I'd consider good.
Yara Greyjoy, who was considered to be a Princess in Exile by her followers, came up the beach and then stopped in front of me.
"On behalf Daenerys Targaryen I welcome you to Dragonstone," I greeted.
One of my Blades came forward and presented a gift to Lady Greyjoy, a rather fancy looking cutlass. Gendry had made the sword with the help of a few dwarves so was freshly forged and it looked exotic.
"It's very light" she commented "An ornamental piece?".
This was not the case.
"It's made from a new kind of steel, one that is just as strong as castle-forged steel only lighter and resistant to rust" I explained "Its not Valyrian steel, but it will kill a man just as well".
Dwarven steel from the Wizarding World had magical properties of toughness and resistance, but it wouldn't be killing White Walkers, at least not as far as we knew.
"This is from our Queen" Yara told me as she handed over a scroll "You can read it later, and I can summerise it for you. Once you get past the flowery words it basically gives you and your children dominion over Dragonstone, but not the lands normally attached to that lordship. You'll answer only to the Iron Throne, even the Small Council won't be able to order you to anything, so you'll pretty much be an independent nation like the Iron Islands will be when I retake them".
I had no desire to handle the matters of the Smallfolks, and I hadn't been educated on how to do it. As for the Iron Islands, it sounded as if Yara would rule them much like how House Martell ruled Dorne, or how the North would be ruled once Daenerys had her father sword chair. The North and the Iron Islands would answer only to the King or Queen, or whoever's arse was on that chair, such as the Hand of the King/Queen, but only if it involved sending troops to support the crown and paying a little in tax to the Iron Throne, basically enough to make it look as if ruling Monarch was in charge when in reality the North and the Iron Islands would be allies rather than part of the Seven Kings, or whatever it would be called.
"Her Grace told me you wouldn't bother with them anyway" Lady Yara was now saying "and she mentioned something about rebuilding Summerhall for any heirs she might have".
Summerhall was a ruined castle in the Stormlands. It had once been lightly fortified castle used by House Targaryen as a summer castle and royal residence, it was destroyed in a great fire in 259 AC that had something to do with trying to hatch some dragon eggs. While the heir apparent to the Iron Throne was known as the Prince of Dragonstone, a younger son could be titled the Prince of Summerhall, and it looked as if the heir would be the Prince or Princess of Summerhall in the future.
"Her Grace also told me to tell you that you'll have figured out why she needs to keep you on Dragonstone" Yara mentioned.
We'd never actually spoken of it, but I knew that the Andals, who Daenerys wanted to rule, did not like magic users so by keeping me on Dragonstone, which was considered cursed by many Smallfolk, the Faith whom Daenerys would have to deal with, could just ignore my existence, and I would be close enough to support Daenerys if she needed me. A rather clever arrangement which left me free to travel as I wished once the crown was own and the Night King dealt with.
"I'll go through this while you freshen up," I said to my guest "We'll feast tonight and you can tell me more about what our Queen has planned".
With a gesture, I signalled Lydia to come over.
"This is my steward she will take you to your room and explain how the island's luxuries work," I said.
Yara smiled at me.
"A woman as a steward?" she said.
I smiled back.
"Not everyone thinks that women can't do what is considered by some to be a man's work," I told my guest.
I got the feeling that once Yara got a look at the private baths in the nice guest quarters that she'd be as interested in getting proper plumbing for her home in Pyke as she would the canons.