And Cold Winds Are Rising

"Is that a letter from Jon?" Lyanna purred as she stretched out on Aegon's bed. Aegon stopped reading the letter to admire her half-naked form and wondered how she could easily talk about Jaehaerys so soon after sex. Aegon almost always needed a strong drink or a beating from Ser Arthur Dayne in order to dull the guilt of betraying both his beloved father and his brother, who would never forgive him if he ever found out about the things he did to his mother.

"Uhmm... No its... Uhm, from Dany. She's at Riverrun with your brother and his family." Aegon replied awkwardly as he got up from his desk, still in the nude, and returned to bed.

"Ned is at Riverrun? That's odd... He has only left the North twice in the last twenty years." Lyanna exclaimed as she took the raven scroll from Aegon's hand and read it quickly. "Oh... Lord Hoster is gravely ill and he accompanied Cat to Riverrun with his children."

"Not all of his children. Dany said that Robb didn't accompany them. I'd imagined he would have wanted to be at his grandfather's side." Aegon said suspiciously, trying his best to ignore Lyanna's breasts which had been exposed when she sat up. He was mesmerised by the heavenly orbs even after all the times he'd seen them.

"There must always be a Stark in Winterfell, its the rules." Lyanna said with a mischievous smile. "The day Winterfell will be devoid of a Stark will be the day that the Others will wake up from their eternal slumber to tear down the Wall and bring the Long Night. So if Robb wants to destroy the world all he needs to do is step outside Winterfell's walls."

"W-what?"

"I'm kidding..." Lyanna said with a sly smile. "Did you think that only Targaryens enjoy a good story?"

"Ah yes... I've heard some of those dreary tales. Giants and walking dead men... Skinchangers and people who could see through fucking trees." Aegon teased as he climbed next to Lyanna, letting the covers fall away to reveal her breathtakingly sexy body. "I even heard tales that some Starks can turn into a wolf every full moon. You're not one of them are you?"

"Only when I'm angry." Lyanna moaned as Aegon bent down to leave a trail of kisses down her neck, sucking and creating fresh red marks upon her immaculate pale skin.

"I'd love to hear you howl for me..." Aegon groaned in her ear as his fingers found their way back into her moist pussy which was wet from arousal as well as the cum he'd just filled her with mere minutes ago.

"Uhh... Egg... Fuck me." Lyanna purred.

"We need to talk about your brother." Aegon said suddenly despite the fact that he had his fingers buried to the hilt within her.

"Seriously? Do we have to talk about him, NOW?" Lyanna asked angrily, feeling her arousal fading away.

"I wanted your undivided attention." Aegon teased as he continued to slowly pump two fingers within her as his thumb rubbed her clitoris, ensuring that she remained on edge as they talked. "Daenerys will insist that I invite Lord Stark and his children to the capital. When he is here we need to be even more discreet."

"I can handle Ned. The real question is..." Lyanna choked out before looking at Aegon with heavy-lidded eyes. "Can you handle your sister when she comes back tomorrow?"

"Well... From previous experience, Rhaenys would always forgive me if I let the other woman join us. But I feel like that is not an option for you." Aegon said as he kissed Lyanna, feeling his dick becoming even harder at the mere thought of Lyanna and Rhaenys together.

"W-what? Rhaenys is like a daugh..." Lyanna's voice trailed off as she realised the hypocrisy in her words making her blush red at the realisation of what she was doing to the man who was her son in all but blood.

Aegon too fell quiet at the realisation of what he was doing, the guilt of betraying his sister's trust and his father's memory starting to sink in once again. The past few days with Lyanna had been pure bliss and he feared that he was beginning to develop feelings that he definitely should not have towards his stepmother.

"Fuck this..." Aegon said as he pulled away from her, only to then grab Lyanna by her waist and manhandle her until she was on her hands and knees, making her squeal in delight. "That's a bridge we'll cross when we get there but until then... Let's see if you can howl for me."

Meanwhile, at the cold and dismal Castle Black

"Ohhh yes... Don't... Don't you fucking stop, Jon! I said harder!!!" Daenerys' wanton moans were music to Jaehaerys' ears as he fucked her even harder. He had never seen a sight as beautiful as his aunt's ass as he took her from behind causing her soft bottom to ripple with every thrust. They were in the hot springs beneath the great castle of Winterfell and Daenerys' usually pale skin took a golden glow from the torches on the walls and glistened with both sweat from their coupling and the warm waters of the spring.

"Oh fuck... I'm going to... Dany!" Jon warned as he could feel his seed rising from his loins. He knew that Daenerys wasn't drinking moontea as she was a virgin and the last thing he wanted was to dishonor her by getting her pregnant.

"YESSSSSSS!!! Me too!" Daenerys moaned as her pussy started clenching around him in a **** attempt to pump him dry of his cum. "Inside me... Please... Jon... I want you to cum inside."

"Nnnoo... I can't..." Jon desperately tried to pull out of her but he was never good at denying Daenerys.

"I know you want to, nephew..." Daenerys challenged him with a lusty smile, her cunt muscles contracting around his pistoning cock. "Don't you want me to grow big with your baby? With OUR baby? Come now nephew... Breed me a fucking army!"

"Ohhh fuck.... Yes. Dany!" Jon groaned in pleasure as he felt his seed rising from his shaft to bathe Daenerys' fertile womb and impregnate her with the first of his chi....

THUD!!!

Jon landed on the cold hard ground with a loud thud, nearly strangling himself with his own bedsheets as he struggled to get up. It took him a few long moments to take in his surroundings and realised to his dismay that he was neither in Winterfell nor in the company of Daenerys.

He was alone at the fucking Wall.

Well... He wasn't entirely alone. He shared the cramped room with three other new recruits to the Watch. Thankfully, none of his roommates witnessed his embarrassing fall from his narrow bed while he was in the midst of an erotic dream starring his aunt. Grenn and Pyp had the night shift of patrolling the Wall while Samwell was still snoring loudly on the bed next to him and could probably still sleep soundly even if the Wall falls around them. The only sound that could be heard was Ghost, which was strange as he was usually as quiet as a... Well... A Ghost.

If it weren't for Ghost's company, he would have lost heart and left the Wall a long time ago. Aegon and his mother was right. The Wall was no place for him. Jon had made new friends but the friendship of Sam, Pyp, Grenn and Dolorous Edd wasn't enough to match the enmity of the hundreds of Black Brothers who were openly cruel and hostile towards him. Despite not knowing that he was actually the current heir to the Iron Throne, they knew that he was highborn and that was enough reason to spite him. His Uncle Benjen and his great-great-greatuncle Aemon had urged Jon to return to the capital but he had given his word to the Lord Commander that he would stay until the end of the year. And he intended to keep his word, no matter the cost.

After all... What's the worst that could happen?

The large albino direwolf stood on his hind legs and was frantically pawing at the wooden door. Jon was dismayed to find that Ghost had succeeded in inflicting deep gorges on the old wooden door and that Ser Alliser Thorne would gladly use the act of vandalism as a pretext to separate Jon from the direwolf.

"Calm down, boy." Jon commanded but Ghost threateningly turned to Jon with his fangs bared in a silent growl. Has he gone mad? Jon feared the worst as Ghost had always been the most loyal of direwolves apart from Sansa's Lady, whom trusted anyone and everyone.

"Is there someone out there?" Jon asked the direwolf but Ghost merely turned towards the door and continued his silent snarl, the furs rising on the back of his neck. He is afraid, what can possibly frighten a direwolf? Jon wondered yet he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer. Pushing his fears aside, he put on his scabbard with his sword and dagger and opened the door. "Stay close boy."

Ghost slid past him, out the door. The wolf started up the steps, stopped, looked back at Jon. That was when he heard it; the soft scrape of a boot on stone, the sound of a latch turning. The sounds came from above. From the Lord Commander’s chambers.

He moved up the steps, Ghost padding silently before him. Shadows lurked in every turn of the stair. Jon crept up warily, probing any suspicious darkness with the point of his sword.

Then he saw it, a shadow in the shadows, sliding toward the inner door that led to Mormont’s sleeping cell, a man-shape all in black, cloaked and hooded . . . but beneath the hood, its eyes shone with an icy blue radiance . . . Ghost leapt. Man and wolf went down together with neither scream nor snarl, rolling, smashing into a chair, knocking over a table laden with papers. Jon felt as blind as Maester Aemon. Keeping the wall to his back, he slid toward the window and ripped down the curtain. Moonlight flooded the solar. He glimpsed black hands buried in white fur, swollen dark fingers tightening around his direwolf’s throat. Ghost was twisting and snapping, legs flailing in the air, but he could not break free.

Jon had no time to be afraid. He threw himself forward, shouting, bringing down the longsword with all his weight behind it. Steel sheared through sleeve and skin and bone, yet the sound was wrong somehow. The smell that engulfed him was so queer and cold he almost gagged. He saw arm and hand on the floor, black fingers wriggling in a pool of moonlight. Ghost wrenched free of the other hand and crept away, red tongue lolling from his mouth.

"Othor!" Jon said in shock as he recognised the man. He had been one of rangers that accompanied his Uncle Benjen on a ranging north of the Wall. And he was dead! His body was found near the Wall that very morning yet here he was, standing and fighting with icy blue eyes.

"Jon? Is that you?" Lord Commander Mormont asked from behind Jon, in his smallclothes and groggy from sleep. "Seven Hells! Othor?!"

Without thinking Jon grabbed the oil lamp from Mormont's hand and flunged it at the walking corpse. Dead Othor gave out an inhuman screech as the oil spilled all over him and the fire began to consume him. Let it burn! Jon prayed to all the Gods as he watched the wight fall to the ground, eyes no longer blue. Please let it burn!