Chapter 12. Stag Stomps The Squid
Robert woke up the next morning to the bright light entering through the windows. The air was gentle and cold, refreshing even as he looked to his side. Lynesse stuck to his chest that entire night after their nightly rituals finished.
Time to go.
Having bathed before going to sleep, Robert shifted out of bed and washed his face in a wooden bowl in the room. He then disrobed completely and grabbed a set of new clothes, suitable for the long journey ahead.
"Let me help, Your Grace." Lynesse woke up from the sound and came over to help. However, her hands took extra liberties throughout, 'mistakenly' caressing his manhood at times. But she didn't go too far and finished aiding him in wearing the surcoat.
"Keep an eye on Sansa and Myrcella. I don't want their insanity to continue." Robert reminded her of her task. He couldn't trust Septa Unella alone, after all.
"Worry not, my King. Please win your battles in peace." Lynesse needily looked up at Robert.
He held no romantic emotions towards her and refused to take her inviting lips. He merely caressed her face with his large hand and left the bedchamber.
"Your Grace."
Right outside, Robert was trailed by Ser Barristan, who was to accompany him to the North.
"Have the men gathered?" Robert asked.
"The infantrymen departed yesterday, taking with them scouts and a contingent of the cavalry. The remainder of our forces will march alongside us," Ser Barristan reported, following the King to the armory. "Six Kingsguards will accompany you."
Robert nodded and put on his light armor before finally grabbing his warhammer. Since it was going to be a long horse ride, he didn't bother putting on the main antler armor just yet.
"Let's go." Robert headed straight out of the Red Keep.
Outside, he found Stannis, Sansa, Myrcella, and a few others waiting for him near the horses. He walked past Sansa and Myrcella, addressing his brother.
"Keep your eyes and ears open. If there's any movement in Dorne, I want to be informed." He sternly advised and patted Stannis' shoulder.
"I'll await the news of your victory, Your Grace." Stannis stoically replied.
Robert nodded and looked at the two girls finally. Both of them shrank back at his gaze, looking down. Sansa, already on the verge of tears, and Myrcella, interested to know what the King was thinking.
"Seven hells, cheer your bloody king!" Robert bellowed as he swung up onto his horse, armor clanging as he laughed boisterously. "For victory!"
"Haaa!"
With that, Robert stormed out through the gates of the Red Keep.
"It's Moat Cailin! It's taken, Your Grace!"
"What? When?!" Robert glared at his scout and pulled him by the chest plate. "Speak clearly! What did you see there?"
"The largest tower had the sigil of House Greyjoy! Five of our men died as the Greyjoys sat there to ambush us. Only I escaped and returned… V-Victarion Greyjoy is in command."
Robert released the man and looked at Ser Barristan and the other men in command of the army. Victarion Greyjoy was no new name to them. The Lord Captain of the Iron Fleet was famous for being fearless of drowning and battles.
"We must hurry." Robert anxiously declared, fearing that the Greyjoys were plotting a larger attack on Winterfell while stopping him from aiding the Starks. "Barristan, find me two men with guts and a sense of direction. No cowards. The rest of you, feed your men and prepare them for battle tomorrow."
All the boots scurried to get the job done. Robert waited in his tent in the meantime and looked at the rough map of the North on his table. He traced the rivers and their location. Winterfell was still far away in the North. For the first time in his life, he began to feel annoyed by the location of Winterfell. Why was it so far in the North?
"Your Grace."
Barristan soon returned with two men.
Robert stood up and pointed at the map. "I need you two to fetch me Howland Reed. Only he can guide us around Moat Cailin so we can attack the ruins from North and South."
"It will be bloody." Ser Barristan advised. "The towers provide a vantage point over the causeway."
"What other choice do we have?" Robert asked back. "Go bring me Howland."
Surprisingly, it didn't take very long before Howland stood right before him. It turned out, the crannogmen were already on their way to visit the King's camp.
"My son and daughter are in Winterfell. They intend to use them to stay my hand, but I don't see the need anymore, Your Grace. Your men told me you wish to go around the ruins, and I can lead you." Howland willingly offered help. "I've gathered my men to join the attack against the Ironborn."
Robert went ahead and shook the short man's hand. To Howland, he may just be Robert Baratheon. But to him, Howland was the man who fought beside him at the Tower of Joy. "Let us make haste then. Barristan, you'll lead the men from this side while I take the Northern side."
"Protecting you is my duty, Y—"
"Winning me this goddamn battle is your duty." Robert silenced the Lord Commander of Kingsguard. "Focus on the battle ahead. Lord Reed, guide me through the swamp."
Quickly, that very night, under the veil of darkness, one-fourth of the army left the camp with Robert and followed the Crannogmen. It wasn't easy, but much easier with men who knew their way around.
Well-fed, blades sharp, and armored, Robert traversed the swamp for hours before finally coming out on the other side of the ruined castle. But since it was still night, they chose to stay hidden and wait for the sky to turn blue.
It gave them time to clean their armor, and for Robert to wear the main one. From head to toe, he covered himself in armor, chainmail or solid, along with a cloak of black and gold. The antlers on his helmet soon started to become visible in the morning light.
It was early at dawn, and Robert chose to fight then.
"Prepare to signal Barristan," Robert commanded the men. "Keep those shields high, and crush them. Outnumber them, break them, kill them where they stand. And if you see Victarion—scream my name!"
Robert took position and waved at one of his men. Quickly, a fiery arrow was shot into the sky, towards the South and away from the ruined castle.
"CRUSH THEM!" Robert bellowed and led the charge.
Stormlands, Crownlands, and a few Riverlands' men stormed towards Moat Cailin's narrow causeway with their shields up. They expected the volley of arrows to fall over them from the three towers, and it happened as expected.
Tap! Tap! Tap!
The arrows struck the shields. A few foolish men who were too late or unskilled even got hit. But no cries stopped the army at that moment. Barristan also led men from his side at that time, dividing the focus of the Ironborn archers.
"GO! Crush their chests! Shatter their skulls!" Robert roared so loud that his voice echoed even in that much mayhem. A sort of bloodlust took over him, a sense of innate excitement from just being in a battle.
Bam!
He rejoiced and enjoyed every time his hammer caved in a chest. He cared not when he stepped on a corpse or killed a man with his stomp. He stood out like a giant and killed men left and right, slamming the pointy and the flat side of his warhammer at men, killing them no matter whether they wore armor or not.
"Fill the towers! Take them over!" Ser Barristan's calculated command bellowed from a close distance.
"King Robert!"
"King Robert!"
Just then, Robert heard some men shouting his name. He wasted no time and stormed through the men blocking his way like a bull in the wild. The entire causeway was full of Ironborns and his men, some others sprinkled throughout the ruins. It was total chaos since there was no large open field for this battle.
Thankfully, Ser Barristan had advised the men to use shorter swords for this battle. Robert could see it for himself how effective it was. But personally, he liked his warhammer best. Although he felt similarly close to the blade.
"Greyjoy!" Robert roared at the sight of Victarion Greyjoy. The man was well equipped, covered in armor from head to toe with a shield and steel ax, his choice of weapon. The man slayed men left and right while surrounded by more Ironborn.
Thud!
Robert slammed his hammer at whoever came in his way. Not just chests caved, but at times he beheaded men with a single strike, ripping heads off and launching them into the air. His arms felt so mighty that he felt invincible. His legs and every muscle within screamed at him to keep going.
Clank!
Robert finally reached Victarion and engaged him in a battle directly. The Greyjoy was tall, but not more than Robert. Both of them concentrated on their duel.
"I won't stop this time, Greyjoy. I forgave the last treachery, but not this time." Robert furiously slammed his hammer.
Bam!
Victarion knew he couldn't face Robert's strength directly, so he dared not to block the hammer with his shield. Instead, he tried to sidestep or dodge as best he could.
Woosh!
Robert ignored the small flesh wounds that landed on him. His arms, back, or chest, no matter where he bled, it didn't matter. So battle-crazed, all he saw was the Greyjoy before him.
Bam!
He struck downward strikes again and again, swinging the warhammer like a weightless toy.
Bam!
No Ironborn came close to them anymore, fearing Robert's deadly strikes.
"Stop jumping around and fight like a man!" Robert bellowed and changed his stance abruptly. A stance that Robert Baratheon never used. This was the combination of two memories and experiences in one body. "Take this!"
Woosh!
Robert faked a strike, and just as his hammer fell midway down, he changed the direction and pivoted his entire body sideways as if it were a swordplay.
Bam!
A metallic thud resounded.
The hammer finally connected on Victarion's waist, his armor thin on that part.
With such force, Greyjoy's body was pushed with the Hammer, and in no time, he landed on the muddy ground beneath.
"THIS IS THE END!" Robert raised his hammer high to crush Victarion's chest. "This is—"
Squelch!
Victarion suddenly jabbed a small dagger into Robert's thigh.
"King's Justice!" Robert didn't even flinch and landed a blow so powerful and so devastating that the entire battlefield froze momentarily.
BAM!
SPLASH!
Victarion's head vanished from sight, squashed into a pulp of distorted mess of bones, brain matter, meat, and blood. The hammer had landed right in the middle of the face.
"Haaaa!" Robert dragged his hammer out of the messy, broken skull in a way that the entire head came off of the body. "LEAVE NONE ALIVE!"
At Rober's raised hammer, his soldiers roared in unison and became more frantic with their attacks. There was no need to accept surrender, only death was the King's command. It was even easier as the Ironborn were shaken by their commander's gruesome death. They wanted to escape and return to their ships.
"Follow them!" Robert ordered. "They've got nowhere to run!"
It was not easy to clean up the battlefield. There were so many hidden corners and places to hide in the ruined castle that hours passed and the cries and clanks of swords still echoed. Every inch of the place had to be searched to wipe out the Ironborn.
Of course, some chose to jump into the Fever River to escape, but how far could they go with the water so cold? The ships that the Ironborn had brought were also seized by Robert's men. Perhaps the biggest spoil was the flagship of the Iron Fleet—Iron Victory.
Noon went by, and late evening arrived. By then, most of the battle had ended, and bodies were being gathered to assess the deaths. Quick food was cooked for the men, and small groups were made to patrol the entire Moat Cailin and areas nearby to catch any Ironborn who slipped by.
"Your Grace, we lost three hundred men." Ser Barristan reported inside the only tower at Moat Cailin that was left standing straight and retained some of the walls around it. Robert had housed himself inside one of its large chambers. "A thousand injured, but they'll recover."
Three hundred.Robert sighed inside. It was a large number, but considering their army had swelled up to almost thirty thousand, it didn't seem that much.I'll honor their names later.
"Write their names. I won't have them be forgotten," Robert commanded and joined his Kingsguard for the meal in a large hall. He didn't bother to clean up yet since the bleeding had already stopped, and he was famished. "Have the men rest in turns. We still have Winterfell to take."
Although the battle was chaotic, the men in the hall seemed more energetic than tired. They had won a significant battle that was topographically against them. Despite the lower number of Ironborn, they suffered a lot.
"What's going on there?" Robert noticed increased chatter at the entrance just then.
"Your Grace!" A Kingsguard came running in. "Men from White Harbor arrived. Lord Manderly sent them."
"For what?"
"They bring food and wine."
Robert looked at Ser Barristan seriously. "Check the food and wine before consuming. I don't want any more surprises."
"Your Grace," the Kingsguard tried to speak further, "Lord Manderly's two daughters also came with the men. They seek an audience with you."
"His daughters?" Robert frowned, a thought forming in his head. "Let them in."
Why? To win me over? They're all too predictable.
Soon enough, two women clad in fine robes and fur cloaks entered the large hall. Eyes of all the men fell on them, plenty of heated and curious gazes combined. But none dared to say anything vile for they feared the King as much as they respected.
They're young.Robert saw the two walk closer to his table at the end of the hall. One of the girls had dyed green hair, and her manner of walking reminded him of Lyanna—brave and free-spirited. Meanwhile, the brown-haired one appeared more noble and gathered, her age visibly more than the other.
"Thank you for seeing us, Your Grace. I'm Wynafryd Manderly." The brown-haired girl introduced herself softly as he raised the hem of her robes a little and curtsied. "This is my younger sister, Wylla Manderly. We bring urgent word from our Grandfather."
Robert sized them up, guessing their age. They were youthful, charming, and sweet, visibly the opposite of his rugged looks.Perhaps I'm mistaken.
"Have you had supper, ladies?"
The two shook their heads.
"Then join me." Robert gestured for Ser Barristan to make some space and get the accompanying servants to bring food. "Have a seat."
Quickly, the elder of the two, Wynafryd took the chair right beside Robert, seemingly unaffected by the King's bloody appearance as his tunic remained drenched from the battle. She quickly took out a folded parchment and handed it to Robert.
Robert took it and read it right away. While he expected words such as,Please, if one of them fancies you, consider uniting our two great houses in a holy union.
But instead, what he got was.
I, Wyman Manderly, Lord of White Harbor and Warden of the White Knife, write to you with tidings that may prove of interest. My ships sail far and wide, and in their journeys, they bring whispers from every corner of Westeros. Of late, I have received troubling news—half the Lannister fleet has vanished, and their patrols around Lannisport have thinned to a concerning degree. What causes this, I cannot say, but I deem it a matter worthy of your attention.
Along with this missive, I send my granddaughters, dear to me as my own heart. They have long desired to see the King, and I ask, with all the humility of a loyal servant, that you grant them an audience—Wyman Manderly, Lord of White Harbor.
Robert folded the letter and handed it to Ser Barristan to read. At the same time, he pondered what Tywin was planning now.Half of his fleet? Have I hurt his pride so much that he'd join hands with the Ironborn?
"I will see to it that the patrols are strengthened," Ser Barristan spoke, folding the missive with care. "We should leave no less than five thousand to hold Moat Cailin. Without it, we have no way in or out of the North."
"Agreed." Robert felt his intuitions warning him. But he had to march for Winterfell quickly. "Go and make preparations. I'll keep them company."
Slowly, the hall started to return to silence as men returned to their duties. Robert ate with the two Manderly girls, keeping them entertained by replying to all their questions. Apparently, they were interested in learning about his battles.
"You traveled here just to hear about my battles?" Robert asked them directly when they finished their meals. "It was a dangerous decision, my ladies."
"No!" Wynafryd straightened her back quickly. "We… Can we speak somewhere else, Your Grace?"
I was right, wasn't I?Robert still didn't remove the possibility of them trying to woo him.
"Follow me." He rose with a grunt, not wanting to make a fool of himself or the two Manderly sisters following behind. He made his way toward his chamber, a grim, cold stone room. As he entered, he sat down before a large, dirty mirror with a bucket of water and clean cloth already set there. "Don't mind me. I have wounds to tend to."
Robert removed all his clothes except for the breeches and busied himself with wiping his wounds while the two girls stood inside the closed entrance door, peeking into the delipidated, barely regal chamber in the Moat Cailin castle. He felt their gazes on his rugged body, and that was what he wanted. To kill their idea of the 'dreamy' King.
It was not an easy battle, but he somehow managed without getting mortally injured. The only thing he knew was that the wounds would heal by the time he'd wake up. It was a magical boon that granted him the confidence to face his foes.
"If you came to impress the King and become the next queen, you can leave," Robert remarked from his chair before the mirror as he cleaned his flesh wounds. "I owe Wyman Manderly gratitude, but I'm not here to be courted by some girl."
Wylla and Wynafryd giggled all of a sudden and entered further into the chamber, approaching the King. Wylla, the green-haired one, stepped to Robert's right and took the wet cloth to wipe his wounds herself. At the same time, the brown-haired, older of the two, Wynafryd took the right side.
"What if we came to see if the King can impress us?" Said Wynafryd as she moved her slender hand across Robert's right arm to wipe the blood off.
Robert chuckled and let them aid him. He gave the two a glance, their faces full of youth and certainly beautiful. While Wylla had the untamed look with her twin braided green dyed hair, Wynafryd had a more ladylike demeanor with her brown, single braid swaying behind.
They have never met the real Robert before.He remembered and chose not to take the old, crass attitude with them. The two girls were at least helping him cover his wounds.
"You expect the king to entertain you?"
"No, we heard a lot of things about you, Your Grace," Wylla said, confidence lingering in her voice. Her blue eyes held a strange sparkle, being the younger of the two. "They say the King is a fat, lazy, whoremonger who does nothing but squander gold. But the rumors were wrong, you're not lazy, nor that fat, and you defeated Victarion—Did someone spread rumors about you?"
"Aye, I was like that once." Robert laughed at himself. "I had lost my way, and the cost to find it again was too grave."
Robert stood up finally and started to wrap some bandages around his shoulder and chest with the help of the two girls. They were noble daughters of House Manderly, so he didn't mistreat them, at least.
"Tell me, how old are you two?" He asked.
"I'm eighteen." Wylla proudly revealed, swatting one of her green braids behind her shoulder.
"I'm twenty," Wynafryd added.
Robert sighed and decided to give them some life advice. "Listen, you two, find yourselves a proper knight while you can. Because if you don't, your father will have you hitched to some wrinkled old codger like Walder Frey. That's how it always goes for noble daughters."
"We already found one," Wynafryd revealed, stopping her hands as Robert was done mending his wounds. But she remained standing to his right.
"And we've given our maidenhood to them," Wylla continued.
"And?" Robert asked, feeling there was more to the story.
Normally, a noblewoman's maidenhood was a prize reserved only for their husbands. There had to be consequences.
"They're dead. Father found out," Wylla said, not a hint of sorrow on her face. "He was so kind to me."
"Smallfolk?"
"Mine was the son of a blacksmith—very muscular," Wylla continued and shamelessly rubbed her hand over Robert's left bicep. She barely reached his shoulder. "But not as tall or strong as you."
Robert looked at Wynafryd then.
"Mine was a squire. Clearly not good enough for Father," Wynafryd answered, and did the same as Wylla, touching Robert's right arm.
They shouldn't be in a room with a man like this.Robert felt this was improper. Sure, he felt his loins heat up, and they were charming and cute, but he was no longer an uncontrolled beast.
"Return to your rooms. I shall be leaving for Winterfell in the morning, and I have other matters to—"
The two sisters took two steps away from him all of a sudden, causing him to look at them alternately. The mischievous, wide grin on their lips made him frown. Something was not right.
Woosh~
With that, Wylla and Wynafryd tugged the shoulders of their gowns and let them pool around their delicate little feet. Both of them stood there bare, at arm's reach. Wylla with her perky, small breasts, soft and slender body, and the gap between her thighs granting him a clean, hairless view of her tight cunt.
Wynafryd, meanwhile, held a few curves, supple breasts, fuller thighs, and a hint of pubes. Both sisters had the same skin, pale and pink—tight and youthful.
"No time for us?" Wynafryd asked sultrily.
Robert clenched both his fists, the corner of his eye twitching. "I won't make one of you my queen. Whatever your father, mother, or grandfather promised you, it's a lie. Now, get back to your chambers, both of you, before I lose my patience."
"Umm…" Wylla bravely closed in the gap and almost hugged Robert from his left side, embracing him with her arms around his lower chest. "Weren't we clear? We came to see if the King can impress US!"
Robert frowned, keeping his hands to himself. "Girls, are you forgetting in whose presence you stand? I can have you t—"
"It's our revenge!" Wynafryd spoke before Robert could finish, and hugged him from the right. "Father killed the ones we adored, and there's no other man willing to be with us anymore. Of course, that only leaves you—the King."
The girls were right in that sense. No other man but their husbands would touch them now. Nobody wanted to lose their lives.
"Is this why you journeyed from White Harbor?" Robert asked them. He took long breaths to keep himself calm. Their bodily heat was enticing on that cold night. They were inside the North already, and he could feel it all over.
"No, we just wanted to see the King." Wylla caressed her hand over Robert's chest. "We decided this afterward…"
Robert shook his head and looked down. The two girls were dangerously close to his groin with their hands. But what he saw was his leftover belly. He was still not the same as in his prime. "I know not what's on your mind, but sleeping with a giant man twice your age, with a paunch, hairy chest, is far from appetizing for young ladies like you."
"Far better than what we imagined," Wynafryd commented, abruptly lowering her lips on his right chest as she stepped slightly to his front. She looked up with her gray eyes, "And you're the King. That status alone makes you the most desirable."
"Aye!" Wylla chirped and copied her sister, reaching to Robert's front and kissing his chest, "I'd love to be shagged by the King at least once in my life. It'll be fun!"
With the two so close, and their charming faces so full of needy desire, he started to seriously consider it. He wasn't so injured that he couldn't perform. Nor did he have any prior plans for the night.
Slowly, his mighty arms surrounded the slender waists of the Manderly sisters. They were lithe enough that he could raise them both at the same time—soft, warm, and pure. Their youth affected his desire, and it had been a while since he left King's Landing and laid with a woman.
The heat between his legs grew hotter, and he finally made up his mind.
"Which one of you will go first?"
"Hehe, her!" Wynafryd pointed at her green-haired younger sister. All the while, she slid one palm down over his erection, feeling his size with a gasp. "Oh, I pity her."
"Hm." Robert chuckled and gripped Wynafryd harder instead. He chose to start with the older one. "But I choose you."
"Aaaah~"
Robert threw Wynafryd onto the bed and crawled on top, eyeing the giggling young woman, lustfully licking her lips. He pried open her wiggling knees and spread her bare legs wide. Her smooth thighs beautifully framed her drooling, glistening, pink petals.
She exhaled an expectant breath as his finger trailed up her smooth leg and reached her warm furnace. His callused, rough fingers widened her slick heavenly gates and entered her slowly, aided by her sweet nectar.
He leaned down, kissed her noble lips, and caressed her brown hair with his other hand. Her youthful moans enticed his mind even more as his large fingers widened their way in and out of her core. His kiss went lower and lower, tasting the skin of her smooth curving neck, licking her handful tits, trailing down to her belly with soft pecks and licks.
"Is this really what you want, little Manderly?" He asked, truly eclipsing her body with his large size.
"Oohhh… Yes… Your Graaaa–ce. Take me, use me as you wi–hhh-ll…" Wynafryd's tone swayed up and down, as did her heaving breasts, enticed by the pleasure from his fingers.
Robert widened her legs with his knees, and moved his loins closer. He propped up her knees around his waist with his hands as he leaned down even more. His slightly protruding belly pushed down her thighs to widen. His hands kept her legs folded up and wide and presented her tight cunt right into the path of his thick cock.
"Ahhh… Your Grace… So… So… Big…" she muttered incoherently.
"Hgh…" He pressed his cock between her pink petals and entered her. So tight, so barely explored. He felt it, his cock slowly tearing her clamped walls apart, feeling the struggle of her wet walls, throbbing around him.
He reckoned the man she had before definitely didn't have his size. His cock reached the deepest depths of her wondrous cave with much struggle.
He looked at her flushed face, eyes watery as her lips parted in silent moans. Her brows knitted as if confused by the mix of stinging pain and utter pleasure. It all seemed so erotic but pitifully precious, somehow igniting his thirst to see her scream in delight, losing herself entirely.
Wynafryd instinctively tried to wrap her legs around him but because of his size, she couldn't. Her legs had to stay open for him to enter. The helplessness whetted her lustful desires even more, a forbidden ecstasy in being roughly pushed into bliss. Her ass wiggled uncontrollably, colliding with Robert's gentle thrusts.
Her hands slid up his arms, subconsciously trying to pull him in even more. Her nails clawed his back, hungry for him to go faster, take her deeper, pull her in even harder.
But Robert kissed her instead, letting out his suppressed desire after the long and hard battle. As their tongues intertwined, his hips picked up the pace, his cock sliding in and out of her as his girth teased her delicate lower lips.
"Ah, ah, ah! Oh yess! That's it… there! Oh, dear Maiden… Fuck!" Wynafryd felt it, at that moment, a place so hidden that only women knew. Her cherished sweet spot was teased by the bump and grooves of his flesh sword.
Robert's thrust grew faster, keeping a steady rhythm, teasing her sweet spot with his sheer size. Knees wide, he steadily rode her folded body, aiming to make her release first, wanting to feel that slippery, flooding squelch in her young pussy. The wonderful feeling in his own loins, struggling to break through.
"Hm?"
As he kept going, he felt a sudden and odd feeling from behind. Wylla was trailing her fingers on his back, going down and behind. She suddenly licked his ass, her tongue sliding up from below the crack for a brief moment.
"Seven hells! Since when did women start licking rumps?" Robert snapped, fleetingly losing that elusive, gut-knotting blissful feeling.
"I'm not the first?!" Wylla asked, stepping back in surprise.
Robert shook his head and focused on the girl below him. Getting back into rhythm, he plowed into her mercilessly as if compensating for the brief distraction. Her twitching and trembling body looked utterly out of sorts. She could see she was on the edge of oblivion, eyes tightly shut as beads of sweat rolled down her temples.
Youth oozed from Wynafryd's unblemished face, her skin pale and red now, her cunt finely swallowing him and tightly clamping down like a sword sealed into a sheath a size too small. She bit her lower lip as if in defiance, challenging him to do more, go deeper, try harder.
Robert did so as he pleased, slamming his iron-hard manhood into the last barriers of her cunt with each thrust, landing kisses on her womb. He dug deep and struck gold, feeling her pussy squeeze him for dear life.
Her belly arched up, her release flowing out as blood rushed to her head. She heard nothing but the ringing in her ears as she came.
But Robert wasn't done just yet. Her pussy's tight hold was too perfect for him to stop. He kept going, grunting audibly with each plunge.
"Ahhhhh!" She came a second time with wild abandon, screaming with utter rapture. Her essence flooded onto his manhood from the multiple climaxes, submerging his squelching cock in her nectar.
Wynafryd's body couldn't hold on anymore. Complete exhaustion took over as she lay there, almost breathless and drenched in her juices and sweat. All she could do was moan in whispers.
"I have a feeling you're quite impressed now…" Robert slightly chuckled, slowing down his movements to a halt.
He pulled out his straining staff and left her sore and moaning on the bed, legs spread, broken, and ecstatic.
Robert got up and turned around, taking Wylla, the younger sister, by the wrist and pulling her closer. "Your turn, it seems…"
"Such an honor, My King," Wylla smirked, trying to circle her arms around Robert's neck. Though her hands couldn't go far, even if she had stood on her toes. He was much larger than her lithe frame, herself being a size smaller than her elder sister.
Robert looked down at her face, taking in her charm. Her green hair was as pleasing as a mermaid, quite adequate to their house sigil and a note of her youthful thoughts. She had undone her braids already, letting them cascade around her perky, pale bosom.
He leaned down and kissed her first, his hand sliding down her shoulders and onto her breasts, playing with her hardening nipples. His other hand pulled her in closer by her ass and touched her body all over, his index finger rubbing up and down her moist lower lips as he kept his palm on her warm lower belly.
"Ummm…" She moaned into their kiss.
Roberts broke away from the kiss, looking straight into her gleaming eyes. "Last chance to back out with no regrets."
"Walk away from getting shagged by a king? Never," She whispered with a smirk.
"As you wish, young lady," Robert suddenly grabbed both her wrists. He spun her around and firmly placed both her hands on the table. "You might want to hold on."
"Uh?…Ah!" Wylla yelped, caught off guard.
Robert grabbed her legs from behind, placing both her thighs to his sides, while his cock instantly found her source of heat between her legs. His swollen cockhead was already pushing against her pussy lips when his hands steadied her by her waist and lower belly. She dangled there like a broken, teetering wheelbarrow, pussy wide open for Robert to fuck however he pleased.
Wylla couldn't hold on to the gleaming smooth surface of the table and had to place both arms on it, supporting her upper body on her elbows, dangling midair like a bridge between the table and Robert's cock.
She clenched her fists, half for fear of falling, the other half with great lustful anticipation of the precarious position she was in. Since Robert was so tall, her legs were still high up behind her.
Robert had her legs wide in the air around his cock, spread, as he speared into her. He didn't go slow this time, already drowning in the amazing feeling her pussy gave him from the first plunge, tight around his cock. Gripping and releasing with each throb, massaging him endlessly.
"Oh! Oh! God!" Wylla cried out, her breasts swaying and jolting as their flesh collided.
She could feel every inch of his cock stretching her to her limit. Never before had she imagined a man could be this large and powerful, let alone be inside her. The suction force between their flesh churned her insides, slapping her back and forth between fear and fulfillment. His cock slid into her, aided by her juices, striking her unguarded, fully open cervix. Her body almost pulled off the table as he pulled out, and suddenly pushed her back on to it.
He trusted mercilessly, diving into her cunt as her pussy lips struggled to clench around him, suckling on his cock. Robert could see the perfect pouts her lower lips made, scraping the skin of his cock with her soft flesh. He pulled back slowly, but entered with fast and frantic slams, pulling her body closer to go deeper. Her scorching hot furnace was tighter than her older sister, blindingly unyielding.
"Ah! Ah! I.. can't…. Hold on–! Ahh!" Wylla yelled into her folded arms on the table. Her pussy contracting with all its might as her body arched to meet his sizable need.
"Said! The! Confident! One!" Robert grunted every word between heavy thrusts.
"Yesss! Fuck! Ahhh!" Wylla melodiously cried out. Reaching her final moment of exquisite sensations, her legs buckled around him. Her nectar came rushing out, spilling through the gaps of her cunt as Robert kept moving, and rolled down her skin to the floor.
Wylla panted heavily as she buried her face in her arms on the table, trying to catch her breath.
"I'm not done yet, my lady. Your sister had it twice, fair's fair." Robert pulled out every so slowly, letting her feel the crown of his cock drag out the sweet honey out of her twitching cunt.
"Oh!" Wylla, surprised but entirely exhausted, felt the world swirling around her. She was suddenly turned around in Robert's arms and gently sat on the table.
"Now I can see your pretty face," Robert said as he stood between her legs and held her blushing red face by the chin. He made her look up at him and gave her a slight peck on the lips before pulling her legs up on the table too.
His steel straight cock pushed between her legs once again, spearing back into her pussy. He fucked her cunt while standing there, licking and kissing her all over the neck. The feeling of her drenched cunt was utterly heavenly, her belly pressing down on his thrusting manhood adding to the gripping pleasure.
Wylla lost all sense, eyes clenched shut as her mouth was wide open in silent, breathless moans of delight. Her whole body almost went numb, only feeling the plunges of his girthy cock into her squelching pool of nectar.
"Ummhhh… ahh! Ah!" She fell back onto the table, weak from the relentless fucking.
She could feel the vigorous push, sending her teetering on the ledge of insane pleasure. That strong, lovely sensation began to claim her again. With uncontrollable, shuddering contractions, her pussy burst out with warmth once again. The wave of orgasm struck her for a second time, her body twitching uncontrollably.
Robert could also feel his release twitching in his balls, her body milking it from him with tight squeezes.
He quickly pulled out, stroking his drenched cock. "Both of you, kneel!"
Wynafryd was already there, waiting for him. Wylla snapped back to her senses and leaped off the table to join her.
"Tongues out!" He ordered.
Both noble, young ladies revealed their pink tongues as he ordered, giggling in anticipation. Their eyes were wide as they stared at his stroking manhood of shocking proportions.
With a few more strokes, Robert pumped his cream out, coating their faces and tongues with his white seeds. Like a rain on their bodies that dripped and rolled to their small tits too, sullying them with his royal seed completely.
They licked their lips and gulped down as much as they could, licking their fingers as they scooped some off of their own pale breasts with their slender fingers. Their flushed, sweaty faces looked satisfied.
"Here." Robert didn't know what came over him as he took a step closer and shoved half of his softening length between Wynafryd's mouth first, allowing her to give him a few suckles. Then, he gave the leftovers to Wylla, who vigorously suckled and drenched him until glistening clean.
Soon after, Robert wiped himself clean and lay down on the bed, feeling the fatigue seeping into his body. Both girls also climbed onto the bed, each taking one of his arms and silently snuggling in his embrace.
He sighed, accepting them by embracing them back with his arms.
I'm getting used to his life.
For a moment, he remembered Catelyn's face, a little bit of guilt lingering. But then he shook his head.
It's hopeless. Better I forget her.
"Let's move," Robert ordered the army to march. He sat atop his horse, as healthy and unhurt as the day he left King's Landing.
He'd be lying if he said he didn't find delight in the previous night's incident. Wylla and Wynafryd were lovely, and they pleasured him after waking up too. In their own words, it was the 'last goodbye to the King's royal sword'.
They remained true to their words and kept their little incident a secret by sneaking out of his chamber in the morning and leaving to return to White Harbor.
By then, Robert had understood one thing. A law that was perhaps universal for generations—A King has privileges that normal men can't even dream of. No matter how handsome or hideous a King may look, he'd never face a lack of beauties throwing themselves at him. And for someone like Robert, it was as much a boon as a bane.
At least I'm in control of it now. No more bastards.That was one rule he had vowed never to break.
The distance between Moat Cailin and Winterfell wasn't short. Spanning hundreds of miles with growing cold, the marching army had to spend a few nights on the way. But they faced no battles, nor any rough terrains.
In a little over ten days, Robert finally saw Robb Stark's camped army, right at the shore of White Knife River. He already knew the situation, and how bad it was. The Ironborn hadn't only taken Winterfell but also Castle Cerwyn. That meant Robb had to first take Castle Cerwyn.
But between Cerwyn and Winterfell was a distance of a hundred miles. If Cerwyn was attacked, Theon Greyjoy had warned that he'd kill everyone in Winterfell, including Bran and Rickon.
Right as Robert's army approached, Robb's camp overcame with activities. Men became alert, and a small crowd gathered at the camp's entrance.
It's been slightly over a year since you departed King's Landing.Robert looked at Robb's face and felt like he had failed as a father. He had journeyed to the extreme South and now arrived at the extreme North, and yet Robb hadn't been able to retake Winterfell.
"Your Grace."
"My King."
"Your Grace."
The many lords and knights there knelt to Robert at first sight. It was calming to hear for Robert, that they still called him their King. That they didn't continue with their 'King in the North' nonsense.
"Your Grace."
To the last greeting, a feminine voice, Robert felt his heart shake. He looked at Catelyn's face and held himself back from embracing her. It was hard to let go of years of memories built with her. Her dark eyes, pale face, and thinner cheeks were clear signs of her stress.
Robert descended from his horse and gave Robb a strong hug. With an arm around his shoulder, he pulled the boy along to walk. "How many Ironborn men are inside Cerwyn and Winterfell?"
Robb led him and everyone else into a massive tent with throngs of seats in a broad circle. At one end stood a larger table, presiding over the gathering like a King's throne. "There are at least a few thousand, Your Grace. I've dispatched men to scout the Wolfswood. They report that the Ironborn are patrolling those woods as well."
Robert took the large seat and let Robb sit to his right. Catelyn also sat down to his left, close enough that he could feel her presence.
"It's been a year." Robert surveyed the faces around him. "I'm confused. What keeps you held here?"
"Deepwood Motte has fallen, as well," Robb said, his voice steady yet heavy with the weight of loss. "The Ironborn, with reinforcements, hold Winterfell as their stronghold. Moreover…"
"Bran and Rickon?" Robert completed, tracing Robb's gaze, and looked at Catelyn's anxious face. He lived in a different body, but Bran and Rickon were his sons, and there was no doubt about it. They were the reason he marched all the way there.
"Then," Robert grumbled, holding himself back from taking Catelyn's hand for comfort. "It's foolish to sit here and scheme. Our first duty is to secure Bran and Rickon. The rest can wait."
Catelyn looked up at Robert and lost herself in his eyes, finding a strange assurance and seriousness oozing from him.
"Barristan, gather a hundred men. We'll sneak the boys out ourselves."