"No..."
"Yes..."
Gendry's long hands gently moved over the silver-haired, violet-eyed young woman's body, her face, breasts, waist, and thighs.
The Storm's kisses were as fierce as his warhammer.
"I'll ride you..." The silver-haired young woman pushed Gendry down. Her hair was silver-gold.
"Wait..." Gendry's hair was a deep, rich charcoal black.
The King had countless fine steeds, but tonight he was riding another kind.
Gendry stroked Daenerys's silver-gold hair. Tonight, they were fighting another kind of war.
Daenerys carried a faint fragrance, like a beautiful serpent.
"I have a dragon's nature. Kiss me, knight," Daenerys said with a giggle.
"I have a stag's brain." Gendry caressed her beautiful face.
They kissed each other, their burning love turning to flame, melting them both.
...
Many people joined the battle in the darkness of night, and the battlefield was the bed, including Great Lord Eddard Stark and his wife.
"Look how sweet they are, the King and that girl," Eddard said to Catelyn Tully. "I think my old friend would be happy too."
"They are well matched," Catelyn agreed. "That true dragon Princess is so beautiful she makes others feel ashamed of themselves."
"Our children have grown up. Robert originally wanted to leave the Queen's place to Sansa," Catelyn said hesitantly. In the end, that matter had become a farce.
"There is no need to speak of it. That girl will bear the King an heir, and the realm will be at peace. My journey south was a foolish mistake that got so many people killed. Robert was a fool, and so was I," Eddard replied painfully. He had suffered no small amount because of his wife and daughters' vanity.
Catelyn also felt uneasy. Eddard had gone south and been led by the nose by Lysa and Littlefinger. She had been one of those who urged him on, and both of her daughters had suffered greatly for it as well.
"You need not dwell on it too much. In the end, I could not refuse an old friend's plea. The children truly are of age now," Eddard said, his tone softening again.
A wife's duty ought to lie with the family. When she meddled in other matters, she often lacked the ability and only made a mess of things. The war had expanded because of her attempt to seize the Imp.
"We have five children," Catelyn said. "Rickon is still too young, and Bran has suffered misfortune."
"I have six," Eddard corrected her.
Catelyn felt as though all the blood in her body had frozen. She knew her husband still remembered that strange woman, a ghost between them.
That child was Jon Snow. He was Eddard's son, not Catelyn's.
"You need not concern yourself with Jon. I have already made up my mind. I will let him become a branch of the Starks, like the Karstarks. He is the King's attendant now, and likely will not return to the North in the future. The Crownlands or the Narrow Sea, King Gendry is generous." Eddard comforted his wife.
Catelyn was secretly pleased. If that were so, then one day Jon would no longer be able to compete with Catelyn's own sons and daughters for Winterfell's inheritance.
Like the Karstarks and the Golden Eagles of Gulltown, a branch that split away would become a new house of its own.
"We can no longer give our daughter the highest honor. Now we can only settle for the next best thing," Catelyn suggested.
A Stark marriage alliance in the North could strengthen the North from within, while a marriage alliance in the South could expand their influence there.
"A crown is not only an honor," Eddard said. "But I do want to find suitable marriages for the children. They are no longer young. When my father sent me to the Eyrie as a foster son, I was only eight."
Eddard was not a typical Stark. He had not yet chosen marriage partners for his children in the North, while his wife Catelyn was set on marrying them to southern lords.
"Robb, Sansa, and Arya." Catelyn named three of the children, still thinking of useful marriages. "Robb needs to marry a maiden from a great house. As for Sansa and Arya, I will help them find the young nobles most worthy of them, brave, gentle, and strong."
"Whoever it is, what matters is that they are suitable," Eddard said.
Hoster had forced Lysa onto Jon Arryn, and in the end, everyone had suffered for it.
"As for Robb, I have already considered a few choices," Eddard said after thinking for a moment. "House Royce and House Manderly both have suitable girls. House Royce has married into our family many times, and White Harbor of House Manderly is the mouth of the North."
"What about House Tyrell?" Catelyn asked. She had naturally seen the roses' prosperity and wealth.
"House Tyrell sent their girl into court. I fear it will not be that simple..." Eddard shook his head.
"Sansa's matter is also rather troublesome." Eddard's stern long face grew grave. "If not a single Stark is left behind, it will give people grounds to talk against us."
"Very well." Catelyn nodded reluctantly. "We will think it over further..."
Catelyn first dismissed Robert Arryn. Even if he was her sister's child, the boy was frail and sickly. As for Willas Tyrell, he was said to be a cripple as well.
"It is Arya I worry about," Eddard said. "That child is too wild. I fear that in the future..."
"She has suffered enough, my lord. I will watch over her properly," Catelyn said, her heart aching for her younger daughter's hardships.
"She is too willful. She reminds me of my sister. Arya, always playing with blades."
Eddard remembered Lyanna's face, and the deep-blue winter rose that had pierced his palm.
...
Night was black as ink. In a hidden courtyard somewhere in King's Landing, members of the City Watch stood tight guard.
Ser Boggs, commander of the Gold Cloaks, brought several dishes for Podrick Payne and Tyrion Lannister.
Roasted trout, roasted lamb ribs, honeyed quail, mushroom soup, and a bottle of Dornish summer red.
"What is the meaning of this?" the dispirited Tyrion asked. His beard was scruffy, and he looked much older.
"Eat. This is a gift from King Gendry. The King's coronation, the King's wedding, poor dwarf." Ser Boggs looked at Tyrion with pity.
"Eat, Podrick," Tyrion said to his attendant.
Tyrion began eating greedily. "Even if my head is about to be cut off, I may as well eat."
Podrick hesitated, then began to eat too. He was still only a child.
"What about my old enemies, Grand Maester Pycelle and the Spider, Varys?" Tyrion asked.
"The old maester is writing a book. He may not finish it before he dies of old age. When he is not writing, he sings the King's praises. As for the Spider, Varys..." Ser Boggs gave a cold snort. "Ever since all his little birds were killed, Varys has been close to death himself."
"Then it seems I am rather lucky. I have not been beaten, and I still have my head." Tyrion wore the hint of a smile.
"You are lucky, Tyrion. Your little head is still there."
"Thank the Storm for me," Tyrion said. "What about my cousin Lancel?"
"That boy has grown very worn down. He has become a believer obsessed with the Seven," Ser Boggs said, looking at the Imp.
"My lord, could you report to the King, King Gendry, that my attendant is only a child? Please ask them to help look after him," Tyrion pleaded again.
"The Storm is a generous king. The boy may leave at any time," Ser Boggs said.
"Thank you."
"My lord, I cannot leave you. I am your attendant." The skinny little boy, Podrick, froze in place. No one was willing to follow the Imp, but he had stayed by his side all along.
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