Unlikely Allies (Patreon)

Worry had become Catelyn’s entire state of being ever since Bran fell from the First Keep.  So much had happened since then to make the waking nightmare of her life even worse; her husband was murdered by a bastard king, who now held her daughters captive.  Of her sons, two were kept safely away in Winterfell, while her eldest was leading the armies of the North to avenge his father and save his sisters.

Robb had done better than anyone could have anticipated, winning multiple battles and even capturing Jaime Lannister, yet he still found ways to make her worry.  Bringing his bastard brother back from the Wall had been the last thing they argued about before she left to treat with Renly Baratheon.  She returned, however, to find him doing something potentially more threatening to them.

“I like not how he’s looking at the Volantene girl,”she thought to herself as she watched them talk from a distance.

Her Robb had grown into a most capable man, and she was very proud of him, but he was still a young man, with a young man’s passions and foibles.  She couldn’t allow him to risk angering the irascible and temperamental Walder Frey, and beyond that, proving that his word could not be trusted, but she had no idea how to make him see sense.  She had already spoken to him about the subject before, to little effect, and knew that trying it again would be pointless.

“He isn’t a boy anymore; I cannot just forbid him from doing something that will harm him,” she thought to herself.

If she couldn’t get through to him, then she needed to do something about the girl, but she wasn’t sure what.  Talking to Talisa would likely just mean angering Robb, whom she would likely inform of the conversation, and even if she had the stomach to try and remove her entirely, she wouldn’t know who to turn to and couldn’t harm her son like that.  She needed something that would make her son look away from the foreigner and considered what he might do if someone else, someone more available, were to pursue her.

“He’s furious at Theon over the Ironborn’s assault on the North,”Catelyn thought to herself. “Thank the gods that failed.  If that rake of a man started showing interest in Talisa, it would probably just make Robb try all the harder to pursue himself.”

There were plenty of young men in the camp, but few who would risk their king’s ire, and there was no guarantee that Robb wouldn’t treat each as a challenge to be overcome anyway.  She needed someone that her son was inordinately fond of, someone who he might allow to pursue Talisa despite his own interest, just out of sheer…

“Snow!” Catelyn hissed, reddening slightly when she realized that she had said the word aloud and being thankful that no one was close enough to hear her.

Tearing through the camp in search of her late husband’s bastard, it did not take her long to find him.  He was helping a few of the other men chop wood for the fire.  The reflexive flash of rage she had always felt at the sight of him, with his perfect Stark features, was there, but she swallowed it with well-practiced ease.

“Snow,” she said, getting his attention immediately.

“Lady Catelyn,” Jon said.

“My Lady,” a few of the others said in reverence.

“Robb needs a word,” Catelyn said. “Come.”

“Aye, of course,” Jon said, putting down his axe and following her dutifully.

She led him around the perimeter of the camp, wanting as few eyes on them as possible, until she found an empty tent.  Entering it, she noticed him hesitate and gave him a glare.

“I’m not meeting Robb, am I?” he asked, immediately wary.

“No,” Catelyn admitted. “I needed to talk to you.”

“My Lady, it is inappropriate to meet in private with you,” Jon said.

“Snow, Robb needs help, and you might be the only one who can give it to him,” Catelyn said. “Get in here before someone notices!”

Still looking uncomfortable, Jon nevertheless entered the tent.  Hidden from prying eyes for the time being, Catelyn relaxed slightly.

“What help do you think Robb needs?” Jon asked.

“You’ve seen the girl he’s been spending time with, yes?” Catelyn asked.

“Lady Talisa?” Jon asked. “Aye, I have.”

“That girl is a threat to all of us,” Catelyn said.

“Do you suspect she’s a spy for the Lannisters?” Jon asked in alarm.

“No,” Catelyn admitted, realizing that might be another angle she could go with if this failed. “The way that Robb looks at her is the threat.”

“Oh,” Jon said, going back to looking uncomfortable. “I would hardly say that…”

“Robb is promised to another,” Catelyn interrupted him, “and that is a promise that he cannot break.”

“He’s said nothing about going back on his word,” Jon said, “and I would do everything in my power to talk him out of it if he did.  He’s Father’s son and just as honorable.”

“Ned was the most honorable man I ever met,” Catelyn said, “and even his honor had limits.”

“One limit,” Jon amended, looking momentarily pained.

“If something were to happen between them, if the girl were to end up with child,” Catelyn said, shuddering, “I cannot say what he would do.”

“You fear that he would sooner break his word to Lord Frey than sire a bastard,” Jon said.

That was precisely what she feared, precisely the nagging worry that kept her awake at night.  She knew that she had been less than kind to Jon Snow through the years and that her children were well aware of it.  Robb loved his brother, though, and she just knew that given the choice between breaking his word and risking having a child of his grow up being treated as Jon had been by his future queen, he would sooner risk the entire war effort than that.

“It would risk everything,” Catelyn said. “Walder Frey is a vile man on his best day, and he has never been one to tolerate an insult.  Add to that the fact that he has ties to the Lannisters, and he is the greatest potential threat to us among our allies.”

“It’s ridiculous that Robb even had to make that deal in the first place,” Jon snarled. “The man’s liege lord was under siege, and he refused to spare a single man or even let us help him without extorting us first!”

“The Westerlands are held together by the gold of the Rock and fear of Lord Tywin, while the North is held together by unbending loyalty to the Starks,” Catelyn said. “The Riverlands have only ever had geography to tie us together, and as loathe as I am to admit it, my family has never truly commanded their lords as the other Lords Paramount have commanded theirs.”

Jon looked surprised at the admission and said, “what would you have me do?  I can talk to him.”

“I doubt that would work,” Catelyn said.

“I managed to talk him out of sending Theon back to his father,” Jon said.

“And you are to be commended for that,” Catelyn said, “but affairs of the heart are harder to make people see sense in.  I doubt that Robb would be convinced by your words to avert his gaze from the girl, but if you pursued her yourself, that might be different.”

“What?!” Jon exclaimed, looking at her like she’d just suggested that he jump off the Wall.

“He loves you,” Catelyn said. “If you grew close to Talisa, I honestly believe that he would end his little flirtation with her, which is all that it is for now.”

“Do you have any idea what you’re asking of me?” Jon asked.

“I am asking you to do your duty to your brother,” Catelyn said coldly. “You saved him from himself once already with Theon, and I cannot bring myself to fathom what might have happened if the Ironborn had had his knowledge of the North when they attempted their assault.  If they had managed to actually take Winterfell with Bran and Rickon inside, I…”

She trailed off there, feeling her eyes grow wet as she recalled how horrified she had been when she learned that a group of Ironmen had been repelled from Winterfell.

“You are asking me to betray my brother,” Jon hissed.

“No, I am asking you to seduce a pretty young woman that your betrothed brother cannot rightly pursue,” Catelyn said, “and in the process, stop him from making a mistake that could be the end of all of us.”

“I joined the Night’s Watch for a reason,” Jon snapped. “I swore that I would never sire a bastard as long as I lived.”

“Then wed the girl, if you like her enough,” Catelyn said dismissively.

“You...you want me to marry her?” Jon asked.

“No, I want you at the Wall, where I can rest assured that no child of your line could ever threaten Robb’s,” Catelyn said, “but my wishes are irrelevant there.  You’ve been freed from your vows, and I highly doubt that, having you back, Robb would let you return to them after the war is done.  If you must wed, I would prefer it be to a girl like her, with no ties to anyone else in the North.”

Jon just blinked at her.

“I love my children, Snow...Jon,” Catelyn said, “and I would do anything to keep them safe.”

“I’ve never doubted that,” Jon said. “You always feared that I envied Robb for being the heir to Winterfell.  The only thing I ever envied him or any of them for was having you.”

Catelyn grimaced and averted her eyes for a moment.  She had to admit that that stung, but she had long since come to terms with the fact that she was a strong or good enough person to care for her husband’s bastard.

“I never doubted that you loved them,” she said, “just that love would always be enough to temper any ambition that you grew to have.  We’ve gotten off topic, though.  Will you try to save your brother from himself?”

“I wouldn’t even know...I mean, I’ve never…” Jon cut himself and quickly set about looking at every little thing in the tent but her.

“Oh,” Catelyn said, reddening as much as he had and looking over towards the entrance to the tent. “Um, the faith holds that such things come naturally to those born of lust.”

“By my gods and yours, please stop,” Jon muttered. “I’ll do it, or I’ll try.  Worst comes to worst; he can always send me back to the wall.”

“He’d never do that,” Catelyn thought to herself. “You have my thanks.  Please wait a few moments before leaving after me.”

Without another word, she left the tent, hoping to find her uncle and a little wine to help her forget this conversation entirely.

*****

If someone had told Jon a year or even a day ago that Lady Catelyn would ask him to seduce a woman of noble birth, he would have assumed that they were as mad as Aerys II, and yet that was exactly what she had done.  He stumbled from the tent she had brought him to after that painfully awkward conversation and walked around the camp aimlessly as he tried to think of something.

“How do you even seduce a girl?” he wondered to himself.

He was a man and had the urges of one, but he had always been so adamant about making sure that he didn’t father any bastards that he hadn’t allowed himself to give women much thought.  Where Theon frequented brothels and Robb joined him from time to time, Jon had never even considered it.  Now he had been tasked with pursuing a girl to stop his brother from making a potentially catastrophic mistake, and he found himself completely out of his depth.  He didn’t even have anyone he could ask for advice.

“Robb would suspect something, especially when I started talking to Lady Talisa afterward,” he thought to himself, “while Theon would just give me purposefully bad advice and report it to Robb.  Beyond them, I don’t know anyone else here well enough to even try to have that conversation with.”

Figuring that he didn’t have any better options, he decided to just head over to the tent that he knew the wounded were being treated in and try talking to her.  The tent was mostly empty, with the majority of the wounded from their last battle having either recovered or died, and Jon was pleased to find that he was lucky enough to find Talisa alone with just a couple remaining wounded men.

“Lord Snow,” she said as she saw him. “Did you need help with something?”

“Jon, please,” Jon said, “and no.  Lady Catelyn just wanted to know how many of the wounded are left.”

“Just two,” Talisa said, soaking a bandage with some strange amber liquid before tying it around the leg of a man who hissed.  Turning to the man, she said, “burning just means it’s working.  The more we do to clean the wound, the less likely it will be that you’ll lose the leg.”

“Thank you, milady,” the man said.

“Now try to rest,” Talisa said, “and move as little as possible.”

“That I can do,” the man said.

Leaving her charge, Talisa joined him at the entrance. Speaking quietly, she said, “that one should be mostly recovered soon enough.  The condition of the other one is graver, but he could still recover.”

“I’ll let her ladyship know,” Jon said.

“I was not aware that her ladyship was in the habit of asking anything of you, Jon,” Talisa said.

“Well, asking wouldn’t be the right word,” Jon said wryly, earning a small smile that he took as a good sign. “I think she was just looking for something to focus on other than my sisters, and I was the nearest man she could order about.”

“It must be difficult,” Talisa said sympathetically.

“On all of us,” Jon said. “They’re my sisters; I love them dearly.  The thought of them being held in that wretched city is just…”

Talisa put her hand on his, and Jon noticed for the first time just how pretty her dark eyes were.

“Your brother has been remarkably successful in this war yet, Jon,” Talisa said. “All we can do is pray to the gods that you will be able to free them.”

“You’re very kind, my lady,” Jon said, smiling down at her.

“Talisa, please,” Talisa said, stepping back. “Kindness is somewhat of a necessity for what I do.”

“I imagine so,” Jon said. “Maester Luwin could be stern at times, but we always knew that we could rely on him if we injured ourselves.”

“Did that happen often?” Talisa asked, walking over and beginning to tidy up her supplies.

“Oh, now and then,” Jon said. “You know how boys are.”

“Rough and senseless?” Talisa asked, sounding amused.

“On our best days,” Jon laughed. “Robb and I did our fair share of stupid things as boys.  Lady Catelyn and our father would have been spared a bit with the next two being girls, but Arya was always more like Robb and I were at her age than like Sansa.  Of course, none of us ever managed to end up as injured as Bran.”

“Ro...his grace mentioned what happened,” Talisa said.

“He’s lucky to be alive,” Jon said. “We were all so worried.”

“I know what that’s like,” Talisa said.

“Oh?” Jon asked.

“I have one brother,” Talisa explained. “Nyessero, is his name, and one time, when my parents were away at a wedding, I was left in charge of him.”

“What happened?” Jon asked.

“In Volantis, weddings can last for days, and this was in the harshest part of the last summer,” Talisa said. “It felt like we were going to melt, and so we went down to the Rhoyne.  Half the city had gotten the same idea, and I ran into a friend.  We got talking, and after a while, I realized that I hadn’t seen Nyessero in some time.  We went searching, screaming his name, and eventually we found him face down in the river.”

“Gods,” Jon said. “Was he…”

“He was, though he came back,” Talisa said. “A slave happened to notice what was going on and pushed ,e out of the way to save him.  He pressed on Nyessero’s chest again and again until he finally coughed all of the water out of his lungs.”

“That’s incredible,” Jon said.

“Moreso than you know,” Talisa said. “What that man did, pushing a highborn like that, could have gotten him brutally executed, and yet he risked that just to save a boy he didn’t know.”

“Is that what made you decide to do this?” Jon asked.

“Yes,” Talisa said, “and to decide that I could not go on living in a slave city.”

“You’ll find no slavery here,” Jon said. “I’m not going to pretend that the smallfolk are treated well across the continent, but the idea of one man truly owning another is opposed by the faith of the Old Gods and the faith of the Seven.”

“I know,” Talisa said. “That was what made me come here in the first place.  I wasn’t expecting a full-blown war to break out soon afterward.”

“Not the warmest welcome you could have received,” Jon said.  Eyeing the bottle of amber liquid that he had seen her using before, he asked, “what is this stuff?  I saw you applying it to that man’s wounds.”

“Tyroshi brandy,” Talisa said. “The ship I took to get here stopped in at Tyrosh, and I bought a few bottles of it.”

“Is it good?” Jon asked.

“Not to drink,” Talisa said. “The Tyroshi produce two kinds, one of which is very sweet, and this swill, which is anything but.  Both burn like fire on the way down, and the smallest amount can get you drunker than a whole mug of ale.  The man I learned from in Volantis swore that it was more effective than hot wine or vinegar in treating wounds.”

“Because it’s stronger?” Jon asked.

“Presumably,” Talisa replied. “It catches fire in a way that wine and ale do not.”

“Really?” Jon asked, intrigued. “Well, I’m glad we have someone as knowledgeable and skilled as you here with us.”

“I hope you don’t take offense when I say that I hope I don’t see you in here much,” Talisa said, smirking.

“What if it’s just to talk?” Jon asked.

“That would be alright then,” Talisa replied.

*****

Robb scowled as he saw Jon and Talisa eating together by a fire.  He wasn’t sure when his brother had started getting to know the beautiful Volantene woman, but he had seen them together more than once in the past couple weeks.

“Is something wrong?” his mother asked, joining him.

“Not particularly,” Robb said.

Catelyn clearly saw where he had been looking, though, as she said, “ah.”

“Mother,” Robb said warningly.

“How long has that been going on?” Catelyn asked.

“I don’t think anything truly is,” Robb said, not believing that in the slightest.

“It might be for the best, son,” Catelyn said.

“Are you, of all people, really saying that about Jon growing close to a woman?” Robb asked incredulously.

“Your half-brother is no longer a man of the Night’s Watch,” Catelyn said. “As such, he may well wish to wed and have a family.  I would prefer that he not, of course, but if he must, a woman with no blood ties to anyone else in Westeros is an acceptable option.”

“Her uncle is a Triarch of Volantis,” Robb said.

“She could be the daughter of the king of Yi Ti,” Catelyn said flatly. “If her family isn’t from here, they’re of no real help to her as far as Winterfell is concerned.”

He had wished for so long that his mother would accept that Jon wasn’t a threat to him and accept him as family.  Here he was getting probably as close to that as he could reasonably hope for, and he couldn’t even enjoy it.

“You’re a king now, Robb,” Catelyn said. “There isn’t a man or woman in this camp that you don’t have power over, but power comes with obligations, and you have a few of them.”

“I know,” Robb sighed.

“You know, Roslin Frey is rather pretty,” Catelyn said, “and she is likely so desperate to get away from her patriarch that she’ll be quite pleasant when you two go to Winterfell.  Your father and I eventually found love in our union, despite the circumstances that led to it, and I’m sure you’ll find the same with her.”

“One can hope,” Robb said. “Excuse me, Mother.”

Getting up, he took one last look at Jon and Talisa, who were laughing at something his brother had said, and groaned softly to himself.  Objectively, he knew that his mother was right and that he would be better off just doing his duty.  The idea of plunging himself into a marriage with a girl he had barely spoken to in the hope that they might develop a loving relationship appealed far less to him than pursuing Talisa.

It wasn’t just that she was beautiful; though by the gods, she was; it was the fire in her.  She was utterly unafraid to speak her mind and even challenge him.  She reminded him of Arya in that respect, though she had a distinct femininity on top of her fiery nature.  She had captivated him from the start and seemed to be just as interested in him as he was in her before Jon started getting close to her.  He couldn’t even truly blame his brother, since he had done his best to keep his infatuation private.

“What to do,” he thought to himself.

He could just do the right thing and distance himself from her entirely.  It would hurt, but he’d get over it and move on, and perhaps he and the Frey girl could develop a loving marriage in time.  Even getting Jon to look at girls had been difficult once, and if Robb found him talking to anyone but Talisa, he would normally have been thrilled.  His brother deserved happiness, and stepping aside could help him find it.

On the other hand, he could send Jon off onsome mission and use his absence to pursue Talisa without any obstacles.  It would have to be something safe, of course.  He couldn’t live with himself if Jon got hurt or worse because he wanted to get him out of the way for a while, but if he could come up with some sort of busy work that could keep him occupied, that might work.  As his mother said, he was king now.

“Your grace,” the Blackfish said.

“Uncle Brynden, is something wrong?” Robb asked.

“The scouting party we sent north of here is quite late,” the man replied. “The useless cunts are probably drunk, but it might be worthwhile to send a group after them just to be sure.”

He seriously doubted that the gods would send him a sign on how best to occupy Jon’s time for something like this, but he didn’t know how else to interpret a perfect opportunity arising just as he was thinking about sending him off on a mission.

*****

“The tracks end here,” Jon murmured, mostly to himself.

There was still enough light that one could see clearly enough, but dusk was approaching, and none of them wanted to remain out here any longer than they had to.  A half-dozen men had either been chosen or volunteered to go with him and see what happened to the missing scouting party.  With the exception of Torrhen Karstark, who had volunteered because he was “fucking bored,” the rest were all smallfolk.  A capable archer named Timotty, a couple spearmen named Benton and Lonnel, and a pair of true twins from Wintertown named Cregan and Ned, who had found that they had a talent for wielding swords, made up the rest of their little band.

“The rain yesterday must have fallen on this area like horse piss,” Torrhen said. “You see how  slick that dirt road looks?  How thick the mud is?  I’d wager our horses would either get stuck entirely or slip and fall on their sides if we tried to go that way.”

“So the scouts must have gone into the woods,” Cregan said.

“Which way, though?” Ned asked.

It was a good question.  The dirt road in front of them led to a little river along the way, and it also divided the woodland around them.  To their left lay a stretch of flat land covered by a thick forest of trees, which he doubted horses would pass through easily.  The hilly lands to their right were less densely wooded, but it would still be murder to try and gallop through.

“The hills seem more likely,” Jon said.

“That does seems likely, milord,” Timotty agreed. “They must have gone around a bit though, since there are quite a number more tracks leading around this stretch, but none going straight in.”

“Let’s cut through and see if we find anything,” Jon said, urging his horse onward. “Stay on your guards.  We still have no idea what happened here.”

“Light a torch and stick it in the ground here,” Torrhen said. “We can use it to find out way back later.”

Timotty took a moment to do as the Karstark man had ordered, and then they were off again.

The Blackfish seemed unconcerned about the missing scouts, as one of them had been late before due to drunkenness, but Jon had a bad feeling about this.  It was faint, but there was fire in the air.  He had always had a keener sense of smell than most, and none of the others had picked it up yet, but it was reason enough to be wary.  The woodlands would stop them from being charged, and be it that the army would be unlikely to head through this particular area, it was an unlikely spot to set up a trap, so they just had to make sure that they weren’t surrounded.

The woods extended on for a fair stretch as they traveled towards the river, but they were slow moving, and it took some time.  By the time they neared the river, though, the others had noticed the smell of fire.

“I’m beginning to think that the scouts didn’t just get drunk,” Torrhen commented.

“Maybe the fire’s theirs,” Benton suggested, sounding like he hoped that was true more than he actually thought it was.

“One fire wouldn’t be enough to smell from that far away,” Jon said. “The wind isn’t even that strong.”

“Shouldn’t we go back and let his grace know about a large nearby camp then, milord?” Benton asked.

“Our task is to find out what happened to the scouts,” Jon replied. “If we come across a Lannister camp, we’ll be able to reasonably guess that they are what happened to them and report accordingly, but I’m not leaving until I know who’s there.”

He spoke with finality, and none of the others said a word against it, though Torrhen gave him an approving look.  They continued through the woods, the smell of fire growing stronger and stronger, and soon enough, they could hear the voices of men in the distance.  As they ascended one particularly tall hill, they finally found the source of the smell and sound, and Jon felt his blood freeze in his veins.  The camp was not that large, just a few hundred men at most, but the one in the middle gave him pause all the same.  A giant of a man, standing head and shoulders above the tallest of the others, dressed in thick black plate that looked like it alone would be enormously heavy, was barking orders at someone as they spotted him.

“Um, is that…” Timotty went to ask.

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Torrhen Karstark whispered.

The Mountain, the fucking Mountain was near their camp, with a full company of brutal-looking men-at-arms with him.  Their camp was set up by the river and relatively out of the way, but it was entirely visible from the hill that Jon and the rest of the men were grouped together on.

“Why are there so few of them?” Jon whispered under his breath.

“There’s still far more of them than there are of us,” Benton pointed out.

“Yes, but not an army,” Jon replied.

“They could be an advance force, or they might have been separated from the main army,”  Lonnel said.

“Who fucking cares?” Torrhen asked. “Clegane is here, and the king must be informed.  Now will you lot shut the fuck up before they hear…”

“What was that?!” one of the Mountain's men shouted. “I think there are men on that hill there.”

“You dumb cunts!” Torrhen raged. “Run!”

They urged their horses onward and took off down the hill they had just gone up.  They could hear men scrambling to mount horses behind them, and theyknew that they would be pursued quickly.  Their horses couldn’t travel that quickly through the thick trees, but it wasn’t long before they had passed through that patch of woodland and were back down on the main trail.

It didn’t appear that the men had followed them through the woods themselves as they neared the torch they had left behind, likely reasoning that they could catch them on the road more easily.  The sound of horses thundering towards them echoed across the land, and Jon soon saw the unmistakable figure of the mountain leading about a dozen men along the dirt road.

When he first saw Robert Baratheon, what felt like a lifetime ago, his first thought was, “that’s the king?”  His second thought, though, had been, “that poor horse.”  He thought the same thing now as he watched the giant of a man riding towards them on the back of a remarkably strong charger, and not just because of the weight of his rider.

“We have to get out of here!” Lonnel exclaimed.

“Wait!” Jon snarled, picking a bottle out of his saddlebag as a plan formed in his mind.  More quietly, he said, “they don’t know about the mud.”

“The fucking mud will only slow them,” Torrhen said.

“Just enough,” Jon said, handing the bottle to him. “Stuff a piece of cloth in here and be prepared to light it with the torch, when I say.  Benton, do you think you could hit Clegane’s horse from here?”

“If it drew closer, aye,” Benton replied.

“Do it,” Jon said.

The land between the woods was flat enough that you could see for quite some distance, and they had a couple moments to reply.  Jon watched as Torrhen quickly cut a piece of cloth from his horse’s caparison and, uncorking the bottle, stuffed it inside as he had asked.

“I hope you know what you’re doing, Snow,” he said.

“That makes two of us,” Jon said.

As Clegane and his men reached the muddy stretch of road, chaos ensued.  Some of the first riders were thrown to the ground; their horses skidded and fell to the ground.  Others crashed into their fallen comrades and were similarly wounded.  Clegane’s mighty charger managed to keep going but was slowed all the same.

“Now!” Jon said.

Benton hurled his spear with all his might, throwing it far towards the crowd of their enemies.  Had Clegane been on dry land, he might have been able to maneuver his horse away from the projectile, but slowed as he was, he could not, and the animal was struck right in the shoulder.  Falling with a pained cry, the charger took his giant rider with him, hurling the Mountain down into the thick mud.

Torrhen lit the cloth and handed the bottle to Jon, who grabbed it with his left hand and charged forward with Longclaw in his right.  Another of Clegane’s band had managed to escape the pileup of horses and men with him, and he made it just past the mud.  Jon had greater momentum and focus and managed to take the man’s head with one swing of his Valyrian steel sword.  Coming to a halt, he spotted Clegane, struggling to get to his feet in the slippery mud, his size and weight, which had been such assets to him all his life, finally becoming a burden.  Hoping dearly that Talisa was right, he hurled the small bottle of brandy she had given him in case he was wounded at the giant of a man and watched as it broke and spread flames all over his struggling form.

“AAAHHHH!” Gregor Clegane screamed as the fire spread rapidly across his entire body.

Scrambling uselessly in the slippery mud, Clegane could only shriek in unrelenting agony as he was cooked alive in his armor.  His men panicked at the sight of the fire and the sound of their master dying before them, and their panic made their attempts to free themselves from their horses and each other all the more useless.  Jon watched as their enemy’s greatest monster died with a mix of revulsion and satisfaction before turning his horse and rushing towards the men.

“Fuck me,” Torrhen said in awe as he joined them.

“We should probably get out of here,” Jon said as the sound of approaching horses and men grew louder.

It took a moment to realize that the sounds weren’t coming from behind them, but from in front of them, and momentary fear turned to relief as he realized that it was their own forces approaching.  He spotted Robb leading the charge, Greywind at his side, and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

*****

“You know that isn’t what I had in mind when I gave you that bottle,” Talisa said as she healed a cut on his bicep.

“You said it might save my life, and it probably did,” Jon said from his seat with a grin that just made her shake her head.

“Jon,” Robb said, entering the tent. “Thank the gods, you’re alive.”

“And perfectly alright, this little scratch aside,” Jon said.

“Not so little, so hold still,” Talisa chided. Turning to Robb, she smiled and said, “your grace.”

“Talisa,” Robb said, sounding mildly awkward.

“I can’t say that I wasn’t relieved to see you, but I have to ask, what made you come after me?” Jon asked.

“The scouts arrived not long after you left,” Robb replied. “They explained that they spotted the Mountain and his men and took a while getting away for fear of being spotted.  My heart nearly stopped when I realized that I’d sent you right into his grasp.”

“It worked out in the end,” Jon said dismissively. “I do wonder what he was even doing here with just a few hundred men-at-arms.”

“They were probably meant to cause chaos and get out,” Robb said. “It might have even been an attempt to free the Kingslayer.”

“Instead, it saw Lord Tywin lose his most valuable bannerman,” Jon said.

“At your hands,” Robb said, pride clear in his voice.

“I had a little help,” Jon said, smiling at Talisa, who blushed prettily.

“Right,” Robb said, looking back and forth between the two of them. “I’ll leave you two alone for the night.  Get some rest.”

“I will,” Jon said. “Goodnight, Robb.”

“Goodnight, your grace,” Talisa said, sparing him another glance before returning to Jon’s wound.

Robb left then, and Jon couldn’t help but feel that there had been greater meaning to his leaving him alone with Talisa than just going to get some rest himself.  When Lady Catelyn first gave him his task, Jon didn’t have the first idea how to do what she wanted him to do.  He had elected to just try to get to know Talisa better and hope for the best.  They had grown close, and Jon found himself actually looking forward to spending time with her in a way that he had not expected.

She was a fascinating woman, kind and caring yet fierce and fiery when she felt strongly about something.  That she wasn’t from Westeros was actually good because she had no notion of what bastardy meant in the Seven Kingdoms, and her experiences growing up in a slave city had left her unwilling to judge someone based on the circumstances of their birth.  He liked her, and somewhere over the course of the last few weeks, what had started as a mission to help Robb on his mother’s behalf had become something far more for Jon.

“You’re being unusually thorough,” he commented.

“You could have died,” Talisa said, her hands still on him, as if she refused to stop touching his skin.  Her soft hands felt wonderful. and he had no desire to make her stop.

“Men die in war,” Jon said. “I’ve made my peace with it.”

“Well, I haven’t,” Talisa snapped. “That man you killed, he was the largest I have ever seen or even heard of.”

“He was a monster,” Jon said. “Some of the things he did in his life would turn your stomach, and all of Westeros is well rid of him.”

“Yes, we are,” Talisa said. “It was a short, rather one-sided battle. and you were one of the few men injured.”

“A lucky blow,” Jon said.

“Jon,” Talisa said, pushing his chin up to look at her.

He shivered under her touch and gazed happily into her shimmering, dark eyes.

“Aye?” Jon asked.

“You’re right,” Talisa said. “Men die in war, and none of us know how many will live to see tomorrow, much less the next moon.  I don’t want to regret wasting time when I don’t know how much we’ll have.”

“What are you saying?” Jon asked in confusion.

Leaning in, she whispered, “I’m not needed here.  Join me in my tent tonight.”

Jon felt his heart quicken in his chest. “My...Talisa, I would not dishonor you by putting a bastard in you.”

Talisa just smiled and cupped his face, saying, “there are ways to prevent babes, Jon, and one way to prevent them from being bastards if we want.  Come to me tonight.”

Without another word, she left him, and he just watched her arse sway in her dress in stunned silence.  He had sworn to himself all his life that he would not condemn a child to grow up a bastard, and he had sworn to the Night’s Watch that he would take no wives and father no children.  He had been freed from the latter vows and wondered now if he needed to worry as much as he always had about the former one.

He knew that there were ways to prevent pregnancies from taking, but it was her other comment that stuck with him.  If he married her, their children would not be bastards, and Robb had made it clear that he intended to give him a small keep when this was done.  He liked to think that it was these reasons that saw him follow her to her tent, not the fact that his blood was thundering in his veins and migrating south.

“My lord,” Talisa purred as he entered the tent.

“I’m no lord,” Jon said, the reaction automatic at this point. “I have no name to give you or lands of my own.”

“There is much else you can give me, Jon,” Talisa whispered as she walked close, “and you can start with this.”

She pressed her lips against his, and any hesitation he might have had left fled immediately.  Wrapping his arms around her, he pressed her flush against him and returned the kiss.  He could not claim to have much experience with kissing girls, but a lifetime of combat training had taught him how to take note of what someone was doing and respond in kind.  He felt his whole body warm as they kissed, and when she moaned softly into his mouth, he groaned at how it made his cock surge in his breeches.

Talisa broke off the kiss and grinned at him, saying, “you are terribly overdressed.”

“As are you,” Jon replied, his voice deep and thick with desire.

“Do something about it,” Talisa said challengingly.

He could not claim to know much about women’s clothing, but with her help, he soon had her dress undone, and as it pooled at her feet, his jaw nearly fell just as far.  Her breasts were small but firm, and sat high and proud on her chest, her dark pink nipples hard and pointed right at him.  He immediately longed to feel them in his hands, and she took one in her own and brought it over.

“Feel that?” she asked as she rolled his thumb over her nipple. “Feel how hard it is?  It’s my desire for you that made them like that.  They’re like your cock in that way.”

She reached between his legs and squeezed his surging member gently, making his knees buckle.  As soon as she did, though, she froze and furrowed her brow.

“What in the world?” she asked.

Jon looked at her in confusion and was about to ask what was wrong when she kissed him again, plunging her tongue into his mouth.  He accepted it eagerly, sucking on it gently before brushing it with his own.  Her hands were a blur, removing his tunic and lowering his breeches until his cock was able to spring free.

“By the gods!” Talisa exclaimed.

“What?” Jon asked, feeling suddenly self-concious.

“It is...larger than I expected,” Talisa stuttered, her eyes glued to his cock.

“Smaller than a horse’s,” Jon commented, unsure of what he should say to that.

“Barely,” Talisa muttered, wrapping her hand around his shaft.

“Oh gods!” Jon groaned.  That felt so much better than his own.

“Fuck, my fingers don’t even touch,” Talisa marveled. “How in the world will you fit?”

“If you’re concerned, we…” Jon went to say, before he could stop himself.

“No,” Talisa cut him off. “No, I want to.  Gods, I want you.”

“I want you as well,” Jon said, brushing her hair behind her ear and looking into her eyes. “You’re so beautiful.”

Talisa smiled at that and let his cock go, reaching back towards her smallclothes. “We’ll just have to make sure that I am very wet first.”

“Wet?” Jon asked.

Talisa looked at him in shock for a moment before giving him a small smile.  As her small clothes joined her dress, she took his hand and brought it between her legs.  He groaned at the feeling of her slick heat on his fingers, barely able to imagine how that would feel on his cock.

“That is the wetness that I’m talking about,” Talisa said. “That...ahh...will make it easier to fit you inside me.”

Hearing her moan as he gently stroked her folds made his cock throb almost painfully, and the faint scent that he assumed was her wetness only made that worse.  Kissing her again, he led her towards her bedroll, which she had spread out before he got there, and helped her down onto it.  Moving from her lips, he kissed her cheek and continued along to her neck, earning a louder moan from the gorgeous brunette.  She ran her nails softly over his scalp, seemingly content to just let him explore her.  As she wasn’t saying much, he decided to let her moans be his guide, and he earned much louder ones when he wrapped her lips around one of her nipples.

“Yes!” Talisa cried, holding his head to her chest. “Gods, that feels so good!”

Jon felt pride swell inside him and switched to the other one, kneading her small breasts in his hands as he went back and forth between them.  She started gyrating her hips up in a way that brought her slick sex into contact with his flesh, and he wanted more than anything else to bury himself to the hilt inside her.  Her reaction to seeing his cock led him to be wary, and he was determined to make sure that she was as wet as she could be.

Reluctantly leaving her breasts, he kissed his way down her soft belly until he was between her parted thighs.  He could not see much of her cunt at first because of the hair in front of it, but as he carefully parted the dark curls, he took in his first sight of a woman’s sex.  He really didn’t know what to say about it; it looked unlike any body part he had seen before, but it looked almost like it had lips, of a sort, and Jon was overtaken by an urge to kiss them.

“Jon!” Talisa cried as he kissed her cunt.

Emboldened by her reaction, he kissed her again, adding his tongue this time.

“Keep doing that,” Talisa begged.

Jon dug her fingers into her thighs and buried his face between them.  Swiping his tongue up her entire slit, gathering some of her wetness on it.  The taste was mild and not unpleasant, and the delightful sounds that she made in response were well worth it.

“Higher,” Talisa said.

Jon figured that she’d know best and licked higher, away from the quivering hole his tongue had slipped into.  As he neared the top of her sex, her whimpers and moans grew louder, and when he flicked his tongue across a little nub, she squeaked.

“Right there,” Talisa said, her nails digging gently into his scalp. “Lick there.”

He swirled his tongue around the nub, trying to see if licking different parts of it made her particularly loud.  Her thighs closed around his head, and she cried out his name.

“Don’t stop, please don’t stop,” Talisa practically sobbed.

Jon had no intention of stopping.  Flicking his tongue rapidly right against the little pearl that had come out of its protective hood, he had to hold Talisa tightly as she became a babbling, shaking wreck.  Content with the assumption that she would tell him if it became too much, he continued what he was doing, bringing her ever more pleasure until finally, her back arched upward and her whole body went taut.  Keeping his eyes focused on her face, he saw her mouth start to hang open, as if locked into a silent scream that she gave voice to a moment later.

“GODS!” Talisa shrieked at the top of her lungs, her whole body shaking and convulsing like nothing he had ever seen before.

Jon drew back in shock, concerned for a moment that he had harmed her, but the look on her face was not one of pain, and he relaxed as she rode out the waves of what he realized was her peak.  She stilled after a moment, collapsing onto the bedroll and panting as though she had just fought for her life.  Her whole body was covered in a sheen of sweat, and she grinned from ear to ear as she looked up at him.

“Amazing!” Talisa panted, sounding half-delirious.

“Are you alright?” Jon asked, massaging his sore jaw.

“Alright...would be putting it...mildly,” Talisa panted, running a finger down along the valley between her breasts and staring at him in wonder. “Who told you to do that?”

“No one,” Jon replied. “I just wanted to kiss you there.”

“Amazing,” Talisa said again. “Join me.  Given your size, I would prefer to be on top to start, just to make things easier.”

“You think that you are wet enough?” Jon asked as he took her place on the bedroll.

“I am as wet as I can be,” Talisa replied, climbing into his lap.

She kissed him again, and he returned it with equal passion.  Groaning into her mouth as she grasped his cock, his heart started hammering in his chest as he felt her slick heat on the tip of it.  She smeared her wetness on his bulbous head, lined herself up, and tried to descend.

“Oh gods!” Jon groaned as he felt, for the first time in his life, the wonders of a woman’s cunt around his throbbing rod.

“Ahh!” Talisa cried, going still as the head of his cock slipped inside her.

“Are you alright?” Jon asked.

“You’re so big,” Talisa groaned in his ear, resting her head on his shoulder as she waited for herself to adjust. “My maidenhead broke as a girl when I fell trying to get off of my horse, and I always hated that, but just now I am glad.”

“Take as much time as you need,” Jon said. “Just feeling you like this is incredible enough.”

That was an understatement, and just then, Jon feared that he was going to finish before she even took all of him inside her.  Trying to distract himself and her, he started tracing the smooth skin of her back with his rough fingers, earning little shivers of delight from her.  When Talisa started moving again, she took a little more of him inside her sweltering depths before she had to pause.

They continued on like this for a while, her lowering herself down onto him a bit at a time, whimpering and gasping as she went, while he tried desperately not to fill her with his seed immediately.  Eventually, he cupped her breasts in his hands, gently rolling the pebbled nipples between his thumb and fingers and kneading the firm mounds.  Talisa moaned softly as he did, enjoying the simple pleasure and, he figured, the distraction from the feeling of being stretched by him.  It took a while, but eventually he felt her lovely arse rest against his thighs, his entire cock buried inside her depths.

“Fuck,” Talisa panted, wrapping her arms around him and holding him tightly. “That is so intense!”

“You feel incredible,” Jon said, still trying not to finish. “I don’t know how long I will last.”

“Don’t fret,” Talisa purred in his ear. “Your tongue already gave me more pleasure than I thought possible.  If you feel you will spill, do so.”

Jon kissed her and groaned into her mouth as he felt her rise part of the way off of his cock before slamming back down.  The feeling of being buried inside her cunt was wonderful in a way that he had never known, but the feeling of her warm, wet depths clinging to him with her every rise as though they did not want to let him go was so much better, and he knew he was doomed.  Even with her reassuring words, he still tried to hold himself back as she started to ride him more quickly, but it was too much for him.

“Talisa!” he groaned, clinging to her like a raft at sea as pleasure beyond his wildest dreams coursed through him.

Wave after wave of it erupted from somewhere behind his cock and spread through the area as he filled her again and again with his seed.  Talisa held him tight and tickled his scalp with her nails as his peak deprived him of his senses.  When the maelstrom finally passed, he collapsed onto his back, taking her with him as he panted for breath.  He held her to him, unwilling to let her go even for a moment as he recovered from his ordeal.

“Gods be good,” Jon panted as he regained the ability to speak.

“I guess you enjoyed that,” Talisa cooed, grinning at him.

“Enjoyed would be putting it mildly,” Jon replied, echoing her words back at her and making her laugh.

“So did I,” Talisa whispered, snuggling in against him.

He traced his fingers over her back, not entirely willing to believe that any of this had just happened.  He felt his cock wilt a little inside her, but as his hands reached her beautiful round arse, he felt it start to harden again.

“You can keep your hands there, Jon,” Talisa said teasingly. “The gods know that your eyes have been drawn to it often enough.”

“I am sorry, my l…” he went to say out of reflex.

“You can look at me freely,” Talisa giggled, climbing off of him.  Crawling over until her arse was in the air, she added, “if you would take me like the wolf you are, you could spend the entire time looking at it.”

She wiggled her hips enticingly, and Jon felt his cock surge back to full strength in an instant.  Getting onto his knees, he joined her quickly and, taking a moment to line himself up with her, plunged back inside to the hilt.

“Fuck!” Talisa grunted, pushing back against him.

Jon’s hands went to her hips as he started thrusting in and out of her experimentally, trying to find a rhythm that they could both enjoy.  As they started the second of what would like to be a few rounds that night, it occurred to him that, for the first time in his life, he was actually thankful to Lady Catelyn for something.  Putting that thought out of his hand with a snort, he focused on enjoying his new lover and all of the joys he had believed for so long that he never would.