The Rival

Lyonel sighed. He didn't fear the Wildlings. A stubborn bunch to be sure, but contrary to Northern superstition, most of them are as dangerous as a poorly armed brigand. And with how tired this one looked, this fight would barely be a fight at all. It seems like Lyonel's smartest decision is to disarm and capture his foe. Maybe he would have some useful information to divulge.

And so Lyonel crouched down, assessing the situation. He was unarmed, while his opponent had a dagger, and maybe some other hidden weapons. Lyonel's strong suit comes with his strength however. He was stronger and larger than most men back home, but that seems doubly true in comparison to the Wildlings, having suffering from malnutrition their entire lives. The man rushing at him seemed half his size and oddly shaped and him having being exposed to the brutal elements for more than a day, Lyonel was confident that he could prevail.

It was only when the warrior got much close to him that Lyonel realized... that his opponent was a woman. And a strikingly beautiful one at that. Until now the poor visibility and her bulky furs that hid her image had disguised her, but now Lyonel can see under her hood a feminine face with high cheekbones, framed by blonde locks, with two bright blue eyes staring back at him. She also seemed to be Ygritte's age, in her mid to late twenties.

But, no matter who she was, the girl kept charging at him.

Lyonel opened his mouth for one more plea. "I'm not going to-"

Before he could even finish the sentence, the knife was flashing at his face. Quickly stepping aside, Lyonel swatted her hand and the knife flew out of her grasp. The effortless ease in which he disarmed her shocked Lyonel, before realizing how numb her entire body must be. The girl may well be on the verge of ****!

Before he could do anything about this however, the girl ran at him again, waving her fists. Lyonel easily stopped the first fist, aimed at his stomach, before realizing that is was a distraction and the second fist landed squarely on his jaw. If he had been any other man, that punch would have knocked him to the ground, but he was not and it seemed like the punch hurt the girl's hand as much as it did his face.

While she winced in pain, Lyonel quickly grabbed her other hand too. But the girl showed her quick wit once again as she drew back her head and spat right in his eyes, while giving him a solid kick on the shin.

Lyonel had to release her and quickly took a few steps back, cursing and wiping his face. The girl, now smirking, charged at him for the final blow... and to her surprise, ended up on a firm body lock. Her attack had surprised Lyonel... but not as much as he pretended it to be.

Now, both the girl's hands were held firm by him. Lyonel pressed the girl's face to the cave wall, and to stop another kick he used his own legs to pin the girls' to the wall. And that's when it happened. The way in which he trapped her unintentionally ended with his crotch on her shapely behind and her squirming underneath his body was the perfect simulation. Soon, he had a full on boner pressed between her ass cheeks.

The girl stopped immediately. Even with her face pressed against the cave wall, she strained her face as back as possible. When her eyes fell on his boner, the girl's mouth dropped open, seeing something existing that is literally impossible in this world. Then she let out a loud shrill and started squirming harder than ever.

She thinks I'm going to **** her, Lyonel realized. He of course wasn't gonna do that, but it's useful for him if she kept thinking that. Her struggles are now not that of a warrior making calculated decisions, but of a **** woman fearing her wellbeing.

Lyonel spotted a coil of sturdy rope at the girl's waist. Was she sent to climb over the Wall? Whatever the case, it is proving to be useful. Lyonel took the rope and quickly tied it around the girls' hands behind her back, hoping it was secure enough.

With that done, he let her go and went to pick up the girl's knife, tucking the sharp steel carefully in his belt. The beautiful girl meanwhile, quickly turned towards him, pressing her back to the cave, while crossing her legs over each other as tightly as possible.

"I'm not going to fuck you," Lyonel grunted. "And I'm not of the Night's Watch either. I was about to say as much before you attacked me so rudely."

"You are wearing a crow's cloak," the girl replied.

"A happy coincidence."

"But how would you know of this place unless you are a crow who caught one of our people and tortured him for information?"

"One of your Wildlings bought me here."

"Impossible!" the girl spat, looking at him with vehement eyes. "No Free Folk would ever willingly give that away."

Lyonel finally looked at the girl direct in the eyes and smiled grimly. "You'll see the truth of that soon enough."

Beaten. By a Southerner. Beaten by a wishy, washy Southern h- "My name is Lyonel, by the way. I would have introduced myself sooner, but someone tried to skip the introductions and get physical right away."

Build like a boulder and funny as a rash on your ass. Val had fallen deep. A capable women on her own, she had always fared well. Even more so when her sister got taken by the crow-turned-free man Mance Rayder. But recently the luck had turned on her. Her party got snowed in, their best scout got crushed by a broken tree and when food got scarce, the remaining three turned on each other and hell broke loose. She had been on the run for what felt like a week, but malnutrition and a blunt hit on the head might have screwed with her sense of time. Seems like a lifetime ago, back when I could beat any man that stood in my way.

"Well, it seems like we'll skip the pleasantries, huh?" the strangers tone got more sour, easily discouraged by her lack of interest.

He pulled her closer, leading her closely in front of him like a captured ****- *THUMP* He pulled her so close, she felt his hidden club impact between her buttchecks, making them ripple. Well, I'm really glad I at least managed to surprise him. If he would have had time to get this weapon out, I'd be mush by now.

*THUMP*

Every couple of steps they bumped into each other and after turning a corner in which they pressed especially strongly into each other, she felt the club grow in size. The club that wasn't a club at all. An epiphany that overcame her bottom half first, forcing her lips to quiver, and her upper half second, making her other lips let forth a drawn-out moan. By the great old ones, that can not be real! It can't.... Can it? She got her upper half under control again, her rational thoughts telling her that the whatever-she-felt is of course not a penis. They don't come in that size. It felt about the size of the of a giant's when she saw one naked in Mance's camp once and was beyond compare to any actual man. And still, her bottom half denied all calls to reason. Even in the freezing cold, her soft core started heating up to a degree she only knew from the tales of the South. And so her own South started to radiate a very comforting warmth.

"W-What is a crow doing so far North, huh? 'specially in that weather. The wind probably crushed your tent while we were fighting", Val taunted, trying to regain face. She did not believe the stranger's obvious lie of not being the Night's Watch. The cloak gave him away, as plain as day.

"Fighting? That's what Wildlings call a fight?", very well, saving face didn't work out, "You're wrong on all fronts here, blondie. We were not fighting, that's like calling a cup of water the Narrow Sea. We are not going to a blown away tent, it's just a few steps and we'll be in a hidden cave. And I am not part of the Night's Watch, as I said, me and my retinue were just marching North for an inspection."

True to his word, the man led her into a hidden entrance and Val was shocked at the sly Southerner pushing her into the well-guarded secret.

"You came here with who for what?" she asked her captor.

"With whom", he murmured barely audible, before answering her, "I took a couple of men in my service to patrol our borders."

"Oh, you're someone people kneel to, huh?" Val was oblivious to how right she was, "A king or something?"

"Something, yes. But truly Lyonel is fine. Is this the point at which you also do me the favour of introducing yourself?"

She took a breath, but before she could answer, the entered the main cave and someone beat her to it.

"VAL?!" a redhead yelled at her.

"Val?!" Lyonel said behind her.

Ok, the blonde woman that attacked me is Val, sister of Dalla, sister-in-law of Mance Rayder. I'm either the most lucky or the most unlucky son of a bitch I know. No, that's not right. I already caught her and there were no other wildlings in sight. The way she looks, she has either been cast out from the free folk marching towards the wall, or she has been cut off by the storm, the same way we've been. Either way, no one is going to come after me. Lyonel rattled his brain in the seconds of silence that followed the women meeting each other.

"What are you doing here?", Ygritte asked the new member of their merry little campfire gang.

"No, what are you doing here? You don't look that weak, together we can take him on, just follow my lead," the wildling princess made a poor attempt at whispering and followed that up with a spin and an unsteady sidekick that Lyonel caught with his left hand.

"If we take him on together, you'd have to follow my lead. And I doubt you'd survive even that" Ygritte looked into Lyonels eyes the whole time, communicating her actual meaning more than clearly.

Lyonel let go of Val's foot and the weakened warrior fell on her rump, while the prince stared at the redhead hungrily. Val looked between them in turn, her eyes widening with realization. "Yes," Ygritte told her, confirming her suspicions with a small smile.

Lyonel walked over to Ygritte, roughly holding her neck and forcing his mouth on her, while she melted into his embrace. Val looked over at it slack jawed, with the Southerner now mauling Ygritte's tits and her moaning into his mouth. She had always heard the Southerners were a bland people. Women captured in raids from the South apparently balked at sexual acts that is considered quite normal among the Free Folk. But the way this tall Southerner is dealing with Ygritte, it seemed like he was an exception.

Eventually, both of them stopped, looking at her as if wondering what to do.

Of course it's Ygritte, Val thought bitterly. She had met the redhead a couple of times before, but knew her mostly through her reputation. Ygritte, who gave herself to that boy Jon Snow, vouching fiercely that he was now a true free man. But when Snow betrayed her and her people and ran back to the Night's Watch, and then became the First Ranger to boot, Ygritte's reputation was ruined. The **** people simply mocked her for being so foolish. The more cruel feared she was a traitor too, constantly asking Mance to take her head. But her brother by law kept his faith in Ygritte, and it seemed like the woman had spat on Mance's kindness by joining with the enemy.

"Of course it was you who betrayed us, Ygritte. I should have expected that, no matter what Mance said. Spreading your legs to Southerners is now almost a tradition to you, isn't it?" Val said. She knew that she should have been more diplomatic, but hunger, exhaustion and the pain of betrayal was making her reckless.

Ygritte's balled up fists shook with rage as her face went red. "If I stayed in with you lot for longer, I would have ended up losing my head. If not, I would have died in Mance's stupid war to take the Wall."

That hit a nerve for Val, as Ygritte knew it would. "You fool whore! We would crush the Night's Watch."

"Even if you did," Ygritte said, a lot calmer now, "Lyonel's father would come and crush us all."

"His father," Val uttered slowly, looking at the tall foreigner. "Are you... a Stark, by any chance?"

"Gods no. My family name is Baratheon."

Val stared at him with a gaping mouth. Baratheon. She knew that house names meant everything in the South, but Free Folk only knew a few they come into constant conflict with, like the Starks, the Umbers and the Karstarks. Houses to the far South they knew nothing about, but even they knew what the name Baratheon meant. "That means... your father is..."

"- the king. And I will be so after him, as it is done in the South," Lyonel replied with not an unkind smile.

A Baratheon, Val contemplated bitterly. She must be the luckiest or the unluckiest girl north of the Wall. If this Southern prince dragged her off to the Wall, that would be her end. But if she was able to turn the tables... well then, that would be... interesting. But most of all, that smile made her uneasy by how easily it made her feel... fluttery inside. Val always had a thing for younger men. She found their bumbling eagerness to please endearing, making up for any lack of experience they might have. Her own lover Jarl was ten years her junior, about the age of this Southerner. But from everything else she saw, this one was far from inexperienced.

But every other thought went out of her head with the sound of a pot scraping and a delicious aroma filled the cave. Both Val and Lyonel looked on hungrily as Ygritte had opened a pot, filled with stew inside. "It got ready while you were away," Ygritte said sheepishly to Lyonel. "And... uh... you were taking so much time, I couldn't help myself. I left you your part though."

"That's fine," Lyonel said with a smile.

"We don't have any for her though," Ygritte said.

"It's fine, she can have part of my portion."

Both Val and Ygritte gasped at that. In a land as scarce as this, sharing food is a massive sacrifice, an intimate ritual done among close kin, like spouses, parents, siblings... or lovers. The malnourished girl couldn't remember the last time someone offered to share food with her, her own sister Dalla now doing it more with her own man than with her. Val could almost feel a few tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. Fool girl, Val thought to herself fiercely, willing the tears to come no further. One tall Southerner smile at you with white teeth and gives you half his food and you are ready to fall over bawling! Get a hold of yourself!

Still, she could not stop her stomach from fluttering as the prince untied her and gave her the food. Gulping it down ferociously, Val eyed the prince.

Lyonel sat down on a log, reaching for his own bowl... and stopped. "You know Ygritte," he said with a wide grin. "This Northern cold has made my hands awfully numb. I was wondering if you could help me."

The redhead rolled her eyes and muttered under her breath, but still walked to Lyonel with a pleased smile, taking the bowl and sitting beside him. Well, at least that's what she tried to do. Instead, Lyonel put his hands around her waist and had her sitting on his lap. This made Ygritte squeak in an undignified way, but she made no objections, making herself comfortable on Lyonel's lap before starting to feed him.

Even as she ate, Val couldn't help but stare at the scene, aghast. The redhead sitting on this foreigner's lap was a picture of submissiveness, what free women thought Southern women acted liked, and mocked. Could this truly have been a Spearwife, once? Val's stomach knotted in unfamiliar sensations. That must be disgust, Val thought feverishly. Surely it couldn't be what I'm thinking. Surely not lust.

It was then that Val realized the food was finished. She looked down at the bowl with regret, knowing she should be grateful for even that much, but wishing she had more. And when she looked up, the unfolding scene shocked her.

Lyonel had finished eating too, and that done, he and Ygritte's full attention was now on each other. Ygritte's shift was gone, leaving the redhead's perfect tits bare, at which Val stared jealously. Ygritte has the perfect breasts for a warrior woman. Not too small to throw off men, but not big enough to hinder in throwing a spear or whatnot. Val herself always thought her breasts were a hindrance for her being a warrior. And yet, even as she bemoaned the existence of her big tits, she couldn't help but wonder if Lyonel would prefer her tits to Ygritte's smaller ones.

And then it happened. Under simulation, a large bulge appeared in front of Lyonel's trousers. Val gasped.

That finally stopped the other two kissing. "Ah, it seems like you noticed Lyonel's magic dick," Ygritte said smirking, making no effort to cover her bared breasts.

"It can't be. It can't be real," Val muttered.

"Can't be real?" Ygritte asked mockingly, as she undid Lyonel's pants. Soon an obscenely large penis sprang up, throwing drops of pre cum everywhere, with one drop hitting Val's face.

"It can't be real," a shocked Val repeated, as a drop of cum slid down her face, staring at the monstrous dick with growing apprehension... and wetness.