Tidings

Benjen dragged his exhausted garron along with his equally tired self into the clearing between the Haunted Forest and the Wall. He'd ridden nonstop without rest; the Night's Watch needed to prepare for what was coming.

As he approached the tunnel's entrance, the announcing horn didn't have the same welcoming sound it used to, not with the losses he'd suffered and the dire news he had to relay.

There was a somber mood as he entered the keep; the members of the Night's Watch understood that something terribly wrong must have occurred for him to return alone.

Benjen found the Lord Commander overlooking the training yard, and with an understanding look, Jeor Mormont gestured for him to follow as they made their way to the Commander's Tower.

"Corn, corn," the Commander's ever-present crow demanded, hopping around the plain chambers. The older man fished through his pockets before tossing the grains over.

"Come, sit, Benjen," Jeor gestured from behind his desk.

"Now tell me what happened. I'm assuming it's nothing good," he said after Benjen had situated himself.

"Aye, Lord Commander. We were captured on our way to Craster's territory. Craster is dead, along with the men I led, and a Queen is gathering her forces around his former keep. I was only let go on a whim," Benjen reported.

Benjen saw the old man sigh at that. "Then war it will be. If only our brotherhood were what it once was. Too many will be lost for this foolishness," he lamented, making Benjen nod and frown.

"But enough of that. What else can you tell me about this Queen Beyond the Wall?" he asked, pulling himself out of his dour thoughts.

"It's worse than a Wildling gathering an army of their fellows. They're building an honest city out in those woods, and on top of that, they've gotten their hands on steel armor and arms in numbers I've never seen before," Benjen explained, making the old man's fists clench.

"Are you speaking the truth? How could this be?" the Commander questioned.

Benjen shook his head. "Aye, you have my word. How they've managed it, I only have a guess. The Queen has a lover—at least, I think he's her lover—who doesn't look like a Wildling; I can only assume him to be an Essosi from his coloring."

"If that is true, this could be a plot against the Kingdom." Jeor looked down in thought. "I have letters to write. Go and get some rest, son," he said, a clear dismissal.

Benjen didn't move, thinking about how to put his suspicions into words. "Is there anything else?" the Old Bear asked, seeing him still seated.

"Aye, Commander. There was something off about my time in captivity. The Queen's paramour was introduced as a wizard, and I can't convince myself that the claim was false," Benjen finished, seeing his Commander's disbelieving look. He couldn't blame him; after all, he too could barely believe what he'd seen.

"I'll leave you to your work, Commander," he offered, deciding not to push the issue further.

"Lad," Benjen heard Jeor call as he was about to pull the door open. "Don't let the loss of your men tear you apart. The Night's Watch has stood strong for eight thousand years. We've faced darker days and survived. Even if sorcery is involved, we won't go down easily," he added. Benjen simply nodded before leaving for his quarters.

A New God's Conquest

Ned Stark sighed at his desk. He was never meant to be here, and every day he wished his older brother was in his place. He was still wracking his mind over what to do about the grim news that had arrived by raven just the other night. 'Dark wings, dark words, indeed,' he thought.

He'd prayed to the gods that he wouldn't have to see another battlefield in his life, but if the threat from beyond the Wall was as great as Benjen claimed, there wouldn't be much of a choice.

Coming to a decision, Ned prepared the parchments he would need. He would have to send word to King's Landing—this issue concerned the entire realm. After that, he would need to send word to the lords of the North to begin preparations for the worst.

Ned wrung out his cramped hand after finishing the last letter before standing up and leaving the chambers, looking for someone to run the parchments up to the Maester.

"Ah, Vayon, please have Maester Luwin send these out with haste," Ned ordered his loyal steward, whom he happened to come across first.

"Of course, Lord Stark," he replied, taking the bundle and walking off.

Ned put on his furs, deciding to get some fresh air. He sorely needed it after dealing with his duties.

He smiled, seeing his lady wife—as beautiful as ever—standing on the balcony, overlooking the training yards.

"My Lady," he greeted, wrapping an arm around her waist.

"Lord Husband," she returned, leaning into his embrace.

If there was something he didn't regret about becoming the Lord of Winterfell, it was his wife and the children she bore him.

As he relaxed in the crisp winter air, Ned couldn't help but notice the dark glances his wife sent at Jon down in the yard. He sighed. Ned had hoped she would grow out of her hatred toward the innocent child, but it seemed her southern teachings wouldn't allow it, even after all these years.

Ned could only pray that his sister would forgive him in the afterlife.

A New God's Conquest

Varys slinked through one of the many hidden corridors of the Red Keep. One of his little birds was meant to hand over an important message from his ally in Pentos.

Illyrio had kept him informed of the goings-on in Essos, and Varys was troubled to conclude that the continent would likely enter a long period of turbulence if things continued as they were.

Because of this, he might need to make adjustments to his long-laid plans, something he was loath to do. But it might just be necessary. Young Aegon was meant to grow into a fine king during his time in Essos. Now that the lands might erupt into violent and bloody religious wars, Varys couldn't be assured of the boy's safety.

Passing a small nook, Varys handed a small pouch of coins to his little bird before receiving a piece of parchment in return, barely stopping his stroll for more than a breath as he continued down the hall.

Varys frowned as he read the message. The Golden Saintess was traveling to Slaver's Bay. The last thing anyone needed was for the upstart religion of zealots to acquire an army.

Unfortunately, there was nothing Varys could do at the moment, so he carried on to his destination, burning the note to ashes on one of the wall's torches as he went.

Taking his assigned seat in the small council's chamber, Varys nodded to the Hand. "Lord Arryn," he tittered, only receiving a grunt in return at the meek act he liked to keep up.

It didn't take long for the seats to fill and for the Hand of the King to begin the meeting.

"There will be no niceties to begin this session. We've received troubling news from the North," Lord Arryn told the room.

"Would His Grace not want to know of this?" the Grand Maester, Pycelle, asked, making the Hand frown.

"His Grace is currently indisposed at the moment," he replied, and Varys knew that to mean the King was most likely passed out drunk next to a few whores.

The Hand cleared his throat to continue. "Lord Stark sends news that a Wildling host, armed beyond their normal means, gathers near the Wall," he said before pausing for any questions.

"Well, how are these Wildlings getting weapons beyond the usual stone axe?" the grey-bearded Master of Laws asked.

"It's uncertain. Their best guess is from one of the Free Cities," the Hand replied.

"What are they planning? Arming our enemies is an act of war," the gruff Lord Stannis broke his silence to add, receiving nods around the table.

"We have no proof. All we can do now is prepare," Lord Arryn said.

"The Wall has stood for thousands of years. Even if the savages are armed, will they be able to cross into the North?" Pycelle smartly added for once.

Varys wasn't convinced this would be so simple. No, there were too many strange events happening so close together. If he were a gambling man, Varys would say that this had something to do with the golden religion like all his other problems.

But here was an opportunity at least. He couldn't do anything about Essos, but if he interrupted whatever was going on in the lands beyond the North, it would be a start.

"They might not be able to cross, but we can't let this stand. I suggest helping the Night's Watch conscript criminals to join the fight," Varys told the Hand, figuring that this was the most the council would be willing to do about the matter.

Lord Arryn hummed for a bit, apparently deliberating over the matter before nodding.

"That could work. Does anyone have any objections?" he asked the table, receiving no complaints in turn.

Varys smiled to himself. This would just be the start of his plans to hamper the golden religion.

A New God's Conquest

Delphi silently clung to the ceiling of her father's training room. Her time spent studying to be a ninja, like in her favorite show, hadn't been for nothing.

Finally seeing her opportunity, Delphi went through the practiced hand signs. 'Ox, Rabbit, Monkey, Dragon, Rat, Bird, Ox, Snake, Dog, Tiger, Monkey,' and before her daddy could even react, she pounced with a lightning-cloaked hand, ready to strike.

Lux caught the lethal, Jutsu-cloaked arm out of the air, smiling fondly before pulling his firstborn into his arms.

"Not too bad, baby girl. Unfortunately, the chirping of a thousand birds isn't the best for stealth attacks," he advised, making his murderous little girl pout cutely.

"Well, now that you're here, how about we continue training where we left off?" Lux offered. After all, if his kid wanted to become a deadly assassin, he'd make sure she was doing it right.

"Don't wanna," Delphi stuck out her tongue, turning to run away, only to find her legs flailing uselessly in the air as Lux held the girl by the scruff of her neck.

"Oh, then maybe I'll tell your mother what you've been up to," he threatened with an evil grin.

Delphi froze. "Okay, maybe just a little bit of training would be fine," she agreed.

Later, Lux left the room, his exhausted daughter lying on the floor, unable to move. If he didn't regularly exercise the little brat, she'd get into all sorts of trouble he didn't feel the elves deserved to deal with… because he certainly wasn't going to.

Disappearing from his place, Lux decided to go and see what his first baby mama was up to.

Lux was delighted to find the sexy woman sprawled across her mattress in a loose robe, her long legs and belly bump on display. Yes, somehow he'd been talked into knocking Bella up again right after doing the same to Val.

But that was for future Lux to worry about. Now, all he wanted to do was strip down and join his loyal slave in bed.

Disrobing and crawling onto the silken sheets, Lux hovered over the woman's seductive form as Bella untied the sash hiding away the last bits of modesty, her large pillowy breasts spilling out while doing interesting things as she sexily stretched in place.

"How can you go around looking like this and not expect me to eat you up every chance I get," Lux purred as he pulled his slave into his arms.

Bella giggled. "Please, Master, you know that I'm willing to satiate your lusts anytime."

"Heh, have I ever told you that making you mine has been the best decision since arriving in this world?" he asked, and his words alone had the mature beauty squirming around in pleasure.

Seeing his lover's anticipation, Lux leaned down meating those soft lips with his own, his tongue exploring Bella's sweet mouth while his hands roamed the curvy body carrying his progeny.

While one hand groped a large milk-filled breast the other roamed over the protruding belly, through her neatly trimmed bush, finally reaching between the pair of lovely thick thighs to sopping pussy wanting his attention.

With his divine hands turning the woman to putty in his arms, Lux wasn't surprised when his beautiful slave began convulsing in orgasmic bliss, drenching his hand between her legs in a delectable spray of feminine juices not long into his ministrations.

Lux smiled, licking the flavorful drippings off his fingers; the nearly comatose woman was his to do with as he pleased, and with a wave of his hand, the many pillows in the room rearranged themselves to support Bella's limp form, her tempting body placed ass-up face-down into the sheets.

Taking in the wonderful sight of Bella's fully exposed wet pussy and crinkled hole, Lux knew he wouldn't be able to hold himself back much longer.

Lubing up his middle finger between the woman's moist lower lips, he went straight to toying with her tight back door, the muffled moans letting him know that Bella was waking from her stupor.

"Mmmm, yes, Master, it's been too long since you used my little asshole," She whined into the pillows as Lux began slowly pushing into her depths. Feeling his woman's tight walls gripping the invading digit with more force than what should have been possible, he was eagerly awaiting the near future with his dick, balls deep in the snug hole.

"Don't you worry, my little anal slut, I'll be focusing on that hole for the rest of this night," Lux promised, feeling her muscles convulsing in anticipation as his fingers continued plunging the beauty's depths.

It was great having a woman with an enhanced physique to play with, Lux thought, wetting the tip of his cock in the waterfall of arousal leaking out of the woman's slit. After housing his godly seed for a full nine months and a few into this pregnancy, Bella would be feeling no pain and only the greatest of pleasures from his large manhood splitting apart her tightest cave.

Now, for a woman like Bella, this loss of pain was something she'd sorely grown to miss, so Lux would simply have to make up for it in other ways. And as he buried himself to the hilt in the tight asshole, Lux gave those juicy ass cheeks of hers a firm slap that echoed through the bed chambers, her cries of ecstasy joining along.

God, he loved this new life of his.

A New God's Conquest

Melisandre finally reached her first stop in Westeros after a long and tiring journey, but to her dismay, her Lord's great enemy already seemed to have gotten his filthy claws into the land.

As she walked through the slums, the kind of place where she could normally find willing converts, all she could hear was talk of the Lord of Light—only it was the false god fooling the poor commoners.

Melisandre sighed; it seemed her task was going to be harder than she had imagined.

Read ahead on my pat reon

Link: patreo n. com (slash) CodeKingu

My pat charges every 30 days so it doesn't matter which day of the month you join.

Join my Discord: discord .gg/VP2q8XPk4d