A Departure in Style, Part Three

Darkness. A tint of red. And darkness.

Lyonel fell backward, all strength having been drained from his muscles. But he did not hit the ground. For what felt like an eternity, Lyonel fell, his arms lifelessly flaying around in the non-existent wind. A cracking sound and the cold, wet feeling of snow welcome him when he finally lands. On something. It's white, all around him, high as a small child. Snow. Lyonel landed on a bed of snow.

He stands up, his limbs finally following his command again. White silhouettes all around him, vaguely resembling trees. The small clearing he landed in is surrounded by the frozen, pale remnants of trees. All without leaves and ,once Lyonel pinches his eyes enough, all bearing carved in faces. All of them in different stages of anguish, eyes closed painfully shut or open in shock, the mouths opened for panicked screams or closed shut and scrunching. A hostile place, to Lyonel and everything around him.

The prince sets himself in motion, dugs under a couple blank branches and stumbles, more by accident than by intention, into the proximity of.... An outlier. A tree as black as coal drew Lyonel in. Not only was it disgustingly black, it had leaves red as the sun at dawn. He made his way there, step by step, through the masses of snow around him. Each steps in this direction got easier, as the snow seemed to grow more and more shallow around the black heart tree. Although it might not be a heart tree at all, in contrast to all of those around him, this one didn't bear a face carved in. Only pitch black bark, seemingly drawing circle patterns all around it.

When Lyonel reached the direct vicinity of the tree, he felt it radiating a small, yet comfortable amount of warmth, as if-

"What-", on of the circles on the trees surface opens, revealing a painfully, torn red eye, "-do-", another circle on the bottom left of the tree trunk opens and shows the same daunting display,"-you think you are doing?"

A sea of red eyes opens up allover the formerly pure black tree.

"Meddling in affairs, carefully constructed for millennia? You have no idea, what accursed path you have doomed yourself to, pathetic princeling. You have acted out of turn, withdrawn a pillar stone and shaken the tower around it. Should it fall, it could bury the realms of man under it, lest the mortar I've applied uphold."

By now Lyonel felt like his counterpart was merely a mass of red eyes, only masquerading in the shape of a tree.

"Bloodraven?", the man asked the construct before him, acting before even realizing.

The last speck of black in the deformed masses centers opens up, laying bare the final red orb.

"What are you?", it echoed through the woods and into Lyonels mind.

The last thing he took in before darkness grabbed him once more, was the daunting stare of red eyes. A thousand eyes and one.

"Lyonel?"

"Are you alright Lyonel?", two deep blue eyes greeted him.

Lyonel was lying on the ground, looking straight up at the sky. A major part of which was blocked off by the head and upper body of Bran. The young man was looking down on his, his hand moving to pick him up. The prince took his hand and stood up shakily.

"You were blabbering there your majesty", he jested, "I was afraid the weather here might have bested your soft southern physique."

It was a joke of course, but with it swung a true tone of worry. The Starks middle child was trying to raise the mood, even though he really did have second thoughts about the prince well-being. No need to worry him, right?

"Oh no, these fresh winds are a welcome relief after the sun burned me down south, day in, day out. Although I shouldn't complain, just think about those poor fellows down in Dorne. I can't imagine how they must have angered the gods to burn away this way!"

The two shared a laugh and Bran's features visibly relaxed.

"Should we go in and share a cider in the hall? Let's toast on the blessings of the cold", the Stark boy didn't wait for an answer and led his guest inside.

"Yes! Fck me, fug me, fuck meeeee!" Catelyn Stark kept shouting as Lyonel pounded her cunt, so loudly that Lyonel was glad of the thick stone walls and the ruckus going downstairs. The prince was taking the lady Stark while she was on her hands and knees as if she was a bitch while pressing her head to a pillow (causing the red head to make all sorts of amusing noises), an experience she never had with her gentle husband. But now that she was getting fucked this way, she didn't want to fuck any other way. Catelyn closed her eyes, savouring the prince's unbelievably large penis piercing her, feeling her buttocks make never ending ripples and feeling her breasts hit each other and her toned stomach. Suddenly Lyonel gripped the lady's meaty backside with one hand and her scarlet hair with the other, and he cummed. This triggered Catelyn's own orgasm and Lyonel watched on amusedly as the dignified lady he met some days ago squirm on the bed while saying the dirtiest words invented in Westeros.

As Catelyn quieted down, Lyonel layed on his back in the bed and looked at the stone roof, listening to all the noise going down below. His father and the rest had come back from their hunt victorious, and were celebrating their last day at Winterfell, just like they did with their first day. And just like that day, he and Catelyn were able to sneak off as people got more drunk, but this time to his room.

Out of the corner of his eye, Lyonel saw Catelyn shifted, turning to her side so she can look at his naked body with great interest. Lyonel turned his own head at her direction so he could inspect the beautiful, mature woman. Gone was that prudish lady he met on his first day at Winterfell. Instead there was a person who's every body part screamed the term 'woman.' Her face was as red as her hair, her mouth opened in a small, triumphant grin as she panted. Her large breasts rose up and down rapidly. Between her long legs was a small bush of red hair. A small line of white cum trickled between her legs, but Lyonel wasn't worried. Catelyn was too sensible of a woman to not drink her moon tea. All in all, it was a vision of perfection. "You've grown up to be the perfect little slut, aren't you Cat?"

The mature woman gave an immature giggle as she kissed Lyonel's cheek. "All because you set me free." Suddenly, her cheerful demeanor ended. "I can't believe that it's all going to end now."

Lyonel sighed while putting an arm around Catelyn, and the lady cuddled closer to him. "If it's any consolation, you will see me far more sooner than you might think."

Catelyn raised an eyebrow. "How so?"

"I won't be going back to King's Landing immediately. I will go see the Wall with my uncle Tyrion."

"Why?" Catelyn asked in surprise.

"Who knows how much I'll get to travel once I become king? want to see the northernmost point of the realm that I'm meant to inherit." Lyonel said, the lie coming easily to his mouth. In truth, while it would be great to see such a wonder in this world he had fallen to, he's actually going to the Wall as that was the place where he might find answers to the visions he is having, and to hopefully find some solutions for the larger, White Walker question he has. But casting those worries aside, Lyonel put a grin on his face and started kneading Lady Stark's ass. "And so when I come back from the Wall, I'll have to stay at least some days in Winterfell. And with your husband and most of the castle gone, imagine all the... deliciously wicked things we could do."

Catelyn smiled sadly. "And then you'll be gone forever."

"Not forever," Lyonel said. "You'll see me again soon, when I'm mar-"

A sudden awkwardness entered the room, and Catelyn shifted away from the prince. "When you are marrying my daughter, you were going to say." Catelyn said bitterly.

"Cat, I-"

"It must be a great fantasy for you. Sansa looks even prettier than when I was of her age, and of course she's young and not as used as me."

"Cat you know none of this happened to my liking. The marriage happened because my father willed it and -"

"Yes, forgive me my prince," Catelyn said, her voice laced with guilt. "These past few days were too good to be true. Yet they did happen, and I must cherish those memories instead of being greedy about them. I'll be glad to get what little of your time I can and be happy for it. But will you make a promise to me, for all the good times we had?"

"Anything Cat," Lyonel whispered, kissing her forehead. "What do you want?"

"Promise me you will protect my children when they are down south," Catelyn asked earnestly. "King's Landing is not the North, it's a pit of vipers. Bran, Sansa and Arya are good children, and smart, but ill equipped to deal with all those plots. Promise me that you will look after them."

"I will, I promise. I will cherish Sansa and protect her from the cruelties of this world. I'll make sure that Arya doesn't go pissing off the wrong noblemen with her big mouth, and I'll make sure that Bran gets his squireship with Ser Barristan and would be made a knight when the time comes."

Catelyn looked at Lyonel with eyes filled with love and maternal compassion, but they soon turned into something less pure once she climbed on to his waist. "Thank you... Lyonel."

Lyonel smiled, but it soon turned into a groan when Lady Stark began to rub her cunt against his soft dick, which was soon becoming not so soft. "You should go back," he said, even while holding Catelyn tighter. "If Lord Stark has gone back to your room he would ask where you have been."

"If he is sober enough to ask, I'll tell him that I have been in the sept, praying to the gods that he have a safe journey," Catelyn said with a wicked smile.

"Slut," said Lyonel with a grin. That's all what there needed to be said, as they both knew that it was very true. And soon, the Catelyn Stark's moans of ecstasy once again filled the room of Lyonel Baratheon.