Kracken's Storm (closed for EuphoricDysphoria)

Kaverion Greyjoy looked over his flagship Stormcall. The vessel was his pride and joy and while it was not the vessel that he had first killed a man aboard or the first he had captained he took great pride in the vessel before him. It was his first ship as King of the Iron Islands after his father had died. The strong jawed and sharp eyed Greyjoy had dark brown hair that almost reached his shoulders. It was a wild and untamed mess that whirled when he flung an axe at an enemy or when he fucked a girl on his bed or the deck of a ship. He was tall and imposing, a lean hard form carved out of the rocks and the force of combat. A scar ran from the left side of his jaw down to his neck and beyond and it tingled slightly as the salt water splashed against his skin, even after all these years. His dark predatory gaze looked back to the long ship before him.

The Stormcall would be the ship that was written into the legends and ballads about what he was out do do. What he had been born to do. The Seven Kingdoms were in disarray and the time to strike was now. Robert the Usurper was dead and his rumored to be bastard son Joffery sat on the iron throne with his mother holding his hand and showing him the way. The North craved blood but an increase in both wildling raids and the Boltons taking a stab at defeating the Starks had them as distracted as they would ever be and that set just fine with Kaverion.

But beyond the prepping of ships and the gathering of men and the captains to maintain his campaign he needed something else. He needed to set up his progeny and the frail mouse of a wife that occupied his hall at the moment would not do. She was a stupid Frey girl that his father had been pressed into accepting after his Rebellion earlier. Dead brothers and a wife from the time he was a teenager had been part of the price he shared with his father and he would never forget it. But it mattered little, even before he was King he had taken women and girls when he required and he currently had a few close at hand at Pyke for when he wished to satisfy his lust but he sought a new wife, one fit for a king and a king's cock.

Idly he listened as his his chief Captain Yalgor informed him of recent allocations of troops, steel and ships from the other islands as they prepared for war at the behest of their new king. His black eyes looked out across the ship hards as other ships were constructed or prepared to leave their births.

'A great sight indeed.' Kaverion thought, and a sign of greater things to come.

Westeros

Lhiannon Seaguard ~ Age 18, 5ft tall, 32C tits, changeable hazel eyes.​

Lhiannon had been born on the Isle of Orkmont, where her mother's family were from. Her father was a Seaguard who could trace his line back a dozen generations in service to the Greyjoys of Pyke. Harlaw was the black market trading port of Westeros, rife with weapons, sellswords, smugglers, illicit slave traders, whoremongers and the like. It was Pyke that held the Greyjoy's military strength and the Seaguards had been protecting that force by watching the waves since before the first Greyjoy sat the high seat there.

Lhiannon's mother had died in childbed when she was but twelve years old. Annis had been too old for childbearing but that hadn't dissuaded her husband from continuing to plant his seed in her belly. Since the day she had realised she was with child Annis had been depressed and withdrawn, almost as if she had known that this battle with the Great Mother would be her last. Lhiannon had bathed her brow and aided the midwife throughout the horrific two day labour. They resorted at the last to dosing Annis with dreamwine spiked mead, heavily honeyed to lend her some strength but it was to no avail. She was too old and weak to continue pushing and the babe perished inside her. The midwife cut between the legs and tried to get the little corpse out to save the mother. The babe was breach and a hefty thing, clearly overdue. When they pulled on its legs to ease it out a scream rent the air. The cord had looped round the babe's torso and they had pulled the afterbirth away from the womb. The midwife swore, tossed the dead babe to the floor and packed towels up into Annis' belly.

The last thing Annis had said to her daughter had haunted her, shaping her life ever since.

"Don't give yourself away easy child. Don't let any man strip your honour and put you through this hell. Once you're past thirty summers or four live births make your Lord husband spill his seed elsewhere... promise me."

"I promise, mother." Lhiannon had managed through her tears. She looked to the midwife and out of her mother's view, the woman shook her head gravely. Lhiannon hugged Annis. They had never really been close but the last 48 candle notches had bonding them like nothing else could.

"Fetch your father." She demanded, her voice already weakening despite the authoritative tone. "I have a word or two for his ears as well."

Whatever Annis had said, it was enough that Her father, Beric, had made no mention of matching Lhiannon with a husband until she had flowered and fully developed, broad enough in the hip. He had allowed his daughter prodigious freedom but that was only because he could trust to her honour. Lhiannon had blossomed into a beauty and worked upon her father's ships and in his dockyard, dressed in leather clothes that were like a second skin, in a skirt slashed to above the knee to give her freedom of movement. Her boots were also leather and for her own protection she actually owned her own boiled leathers, a ringmail tunic and a helm that had belonged to one of her brothers when he was younger. Despite her looks and the testosterone fuelled environment she worked in, no man had ever stirred a fire in her and no man had come close to touching her. Lhiannon viewed it all as healthy sport, for it kept her skills honed with her light shortsword and dagger. Lhiannon was tiny, a mere 5ft tall but she had a sinewy strength, was light of foot and fast enough to dance round her attackers to prevent them landing blows.

Many men had approached her father fairly for her hand but Beric had pledged long ago not to marry his daughter off without her consent. Lhiannon knew that her choice would have to be one her father approved of, someone of similar or higher standing within their community, whose alliance would prove useful to him. Lhiannon was in no rush however. She knew that the moment she married there would be no more sailing or working with her father. She would be expected to keep a house, birth children and be a pretty consort, nothing more. She'd also have to dress more modestly and comport herself with something approaching decorum and that didn't appeal to her either.

Lhiannon stood at the prow of the Annis as the experienced crew put her into port. The ship needed some minor repairs before she could go out patrolling the waters around Pyke. Oarsmen pulled her gently this way and that till she dropped anchor. The ship's figurehead was a good likeness of Annis and since Lhiannon had inherited much of her beauty, the carved figurehead favoured her likeness as well. Lhiannon was the first into a rowboat and sat astern while she and the senior crewmen were brought ashore. Her grace both upon water and then on dry land was a joy to watch, her steps light and sure. She walked through the port to her father's office, the hub around which the Seaguards of all four Islands rotated. Many a man cast eyes her way but she paid them no heed whatsoever. Lhiannon had found that acting like she was high born enough to be affronted by lechery wrongfooted most suitors.

Her father looked up from his ledgers and smiled. "I had not expected you back so soon."

There was a reason why Lhiannon had come here ahead of the Annis' captain. "We had trouble father. Captain Cynric veered too close to The Crag and we were challenged by Rivermen." She looked over her shoulder, clearly expecting Cynric at any moment. "I checked the charts myself and I cannot see how he could not have known what he was doing, he has sailed that stretch so many times. He had a few drinks last night but it's never affected his judgement before. We outran them but they were three ships to our one and we took some damage. They did not hesitate to enter our waters in their haste to attack." Lhiannon saw the worry etched on her father's brow. "I do not think this will lead to war, we backed off as soon as we realised where we were. The men liked it not but it's not for them to decide who to fight. Cynric's being called craven and worse."

"He will need a new crew." Beric mused, "One that has not lost faith in him."

"No father. The Annis needs a new captain. I have watched Cynric and his eyes are failing him. He would never own to it but-"

The heavy wooden door resonated with the sound of three hard raps. Lhiannon stood aside as Cynric came in. He shot her a look of contempt for her betrayal but she held his gaze, convinced that she was in the right.

Kaverion's long originally black cloak billowed in the slight breeze as he watched the ships around the dockyard. The fabric was now a salty grey and ragged and the Ironborn knew soon he may have to replace it with at least something newer, perhaps a regal cloak from the first Lord or lordling he killed on his campaign yes that would do nicely.

Yalgor had continued with his descriptions and figure counts and now the Iron King sent his men and advisers away. He had no sworn shields like Joffery had when he was still a prince. All Kaverion needed was his wits, a dirk and his axe for when he even felt like he needed the heavier weapon. The axe had belonged to his father and his grandfather before him so Kaverion liked to reserve it for when he was reaving and wasn't likely to bother should anyone attack him. Of course here in the heart of his land he did not feel there was a likely hood someone would try to take him or his crown.

'Wouldn't that just be horrible. The King who lost his crown in a dock brawl. They found him drifting from Pyke, dead within his first month as King of the Iron Islands.' Kaverion though glumly when his eyes caught sight of a girl with dirty blonde hair coming off of a row boat with a grew of grizzled looking soldiers. Kaverion moved forward to watch closer and then looked back to the ships still in the harbor trying to figure out which one she came from. Then he moved across the docks with his cloak billowing in the weak salty wind. He paused a little ways from the office she had stepped into after watching an older sea dog go in after her.

Some of the sailors who had come in with the rowboat realized he was their new King and bowed their heads respectfully. He didn't notice anyone he had sailed with before but that did not mean they did not know men he had sailed with or had seen him at Pyke before. He looked at the office and mulled things over things with his sharp black eyes.

Cynric was swiftly followed in by his first mate, a dark skinned Lysene who answered to 'Cleat' and his boatswain, Aldred, a seasoned ironman who hailed from Great Wyk. Cynric glowered at Lhiannon and then rounded on Beric.

"I take it her ladyship has made her feelings known about me." He said brusquely. "It was just bad luck and a worse wind that blew us towards The Crag. It's not happened before and it won't happen again."

Beric regarded him impassively.

"I hear that I am going to have to find the gold for repairs." He said. "Every voyage carries risk but I cannot protect this isle effectively unless that risk is mitigated wherever possible."

"Now hold on a moment!" Cynric raged, indignant. "It's bad enough suffering that chit of a girl marching thither and yon aboard my ship as though she owns it. It's a task and a half ensuring her honour remains intact when she's heedless of my advice. Are you actually telling me now that you are taking the counsel of the little whelp, over and above my own account of myself, a loyal and experienced member of the Seaguard?"

"I told you that we had veered off course but you would not listen to me until your men had sighted The Riverlands for themselves." Lhiannon snapped. "I have respect for you as a sailor Cynric, I always have but these days you can't find your own arse with both hands and a chart!"

"Peace!" Beric interjected. "Have a care how you speak of my daughter." He told Cynric. "Lhiannon, you have made your feelings plain now either hold your tongue or leave us."

Lhiannon folded her arms across her chest and closed her mouth, regarding them sulkily.

"Cleat. Aldred. What have you to say of your captain?"

The two men regarded one another and then their captain. Aldred was the first to speak.

"I've sailed with Cynric many a year and more and I've never had cause to doubt his judgement. Everyone makes the odd mistake." He said stoutly, puffing out his chest combatively. Cleat was more reticent and as first mate he knew the captain like no man else on the ship.

"Forgive me captain... but it's been many moons since you took a night watch or navigated by the stars. You get your spyglass out so often now that you don't keep it in its leather case any more. You're not as sharp as you used to be and men are beginning to sense weakness. A captain who is not vigilant enough to keep his men in line cannot rely on those men to fight for him. It's past time you handed on your command old friend."

"Oh aye, hand it to you you mean!" Cynric roared. He was a swarthy man, barrel chested and with too bushy a beard for his age to be immediately apparent. Lhiannon judged him to be around fifty. Physically he was still strong and vigorous but there was a tension in him, because it was costing him to act like a younger man. Cleat, by comparison was perhaps thirty-five or forty years old and his tall, muscular physique was showing no sign of strain. "This is ridiculous."

Beric had heard enough. "It's time to hang your hat up." He told Cynric. "I need another pair of hands here in the office, so there's no need for you to go begging. Cleat, as of now you're a captain. Congratulations."

Cynric barged out swearing, slamming the door behind him. He would go to the nearest inn and drink himself insensible, then come back cap in hand to Beric the following morn, asking for the office job.

Lhiannon smiled at Cleat and congratulated him. The huge black man was unmoved however.

"When my strength fails, I'll thank you to tell me when I'm not up to the job any more, not your father."

Lhiannon canted her head to the side, wide eyed with feigned innocence. "Oh, you mean like you just did? I'll try to remember that."

Her father was eyeing her with approval when the turned to him and announced that she was going to have a wander around the market and get her land legs again. Lhiannon strode out of the office and turned her back on the sea, winding her way through narrow streets towards the main square where the fishermen, farmers and merchants sold their wares.

Kaverion's sharp eyes tracked Lhiannon quickly once she exited.

"You've a sharp tongue and boldness to make claim that your captain is unfit." Kaverion said as he moved in between her and any destination she had previously had in mind. "Unless of course I was mistaken and you just happened to go to the same office as he did."

"Did he pass you around too much to the sailors to keep them warm at night on those long voyages?" He asked her determined to see her reaction to the insult. The girl didn't seem very cowed or timid at all and he understood correctly she had sailed on a ship that almost got itself captured in the Crag. She was not the average maid to be found on these dock yards.

He stood before in his worn dark jerkin marred by the sea and more then a few slashes of a dirk. Keaverion's cloak billowed behind him in the harsh win as he gave the girl an appraising look. 'Yes she would do quite nicely.'

"What's your name girl. You have the look of a Seaguard save for those tits and that face of yours." He said and took a step towards her while he kept the sharp snake of a smile on his features.

"You've a sharp tongue and boldness to make claim that your captain is unfit."

A tall man stepped in front of Lia's tiny five foot frame, too close, blocking her path. She lifted her chin until she was glaring into his eyes...

Then hastily swallowed a retort and dropped her gaze.

"Unless of course I was mistaken and you just happened to go to the same office as he did."

Like the rest of her people, Lia had participated in the brief period of mourning between the late Lord's death and his burial at sea. Iron Islanders had neither the compassion nor patience for mourning clothes and months on end of weeping and wailing. Lord Kaverion Greyjoy had drawn a bow with a flaming arrow and set light to his father's floating pyre. As flames leaped up to engulf the corpse he had roared the words of the great Drowned God.

"What is dead may never die!"

The cry had gone up across all three of the Iron Islands at the sight of the flaming pyre and it had felt to Lia that every man across the Seven Kingdoms had bellowed in unison.

"WHAT IS DEAD MAY NEVER DIE!"

After the frenzy died down and with his father's body still burning, Lord Kaverion had fixed his pitiless gaze upon his people and reminded them of the Greyjoy words.

"We do not sow. WE. DO NOT. SOW. We are Ironborn... and we reap. These are our Islands. We are done bending the knee to the bastard boy king and his gilded Lannisters."

Lord Kaverion Greyjoy had pronounced himself King of the Iron Islands. The King in the west. More than that, he promised his sea reavers rich pickings on the shores of the Riverlands and in the north where the Starks ruled... for starters.

"We will pay the Iron price for our spoils! We do not sow!"

The whole Island had cheered their lungs hoarse. The late Lord had softened in his twilight years and would not take on the might of the other houses and their hosts. Kaverion had clearly had enough of deferring to the old man's judgement and wanted to make his mark as a King. There was not a man across the Iron Islands who did not know their King by sight. He had crossed the three Isles to raise an army.

"Your Grace." It felt ridiculous, referring to this brute as 'your grace' but what else could she say? Lia could not appear weak before him, so she answered his question as bluntly as he'd asked it. "We lost good men and needlessly. His own men were too loyal to swing the sword on his captaincy."

"Did he pass you around too much to the sailors to keep them warm at night on those long voyages?"

"My father would have something to say about that, as would my dagger and sword." She countered, flushing. Lia was furious at herself, blushing like a maid. Well she was a maid but Lia had spent more than enough time around sailors not to be innocent of anything save having had sex herself.

It irked her that she could not lift her gaze and see how he reacted to her boldness.

"What's your name girl. You have the look of a Seaguard save for those tits and that face of yours."

"My name is Lhiannon Seaguard, daughter of Beric. My tits and my face were my mother's gift to me. Her name was Annis... your Grace." She added hastily.

Oh Gods... curse me and my infernal mouth

Kaverion's sharp eyes watched the girl with keen interest. She was quite different than most of the women he had set his gaze upon. His features were grim but there was the barest trace of smugness on his cheeks and mouth as he took her in. And Kaverion enjoyed her reply to his quip about her being passed around by the captain. It conveyed that she at least thought she could protect herself though of course first she had mentioned her father before her weapons potentially denoting how she dealt wither her problems by running to dear old dad first.

The thought sent a hard chill through Kaverion. His father had given him nothing, a burnt shell of a kingdom to rule and less faith in the Greyjoy's worth then ever. Kaverion had been paying the iron price for years before he became king.

The red flush off her sweet features did surprise the long haired Ironborn as he stood before her and those dark eyes of his glinted suddenly at the potential that it held. He also easily picked up on the subservient nature as she bowed her chin to him displaying she knew her place amongst men high above her station. Good, though at the same point Kaverion had sampled numerous submissive little girls who spread their legs at the first sign of his aggression. Timid women didn't breed strong sons, this one showed promise but he would have to test her in more ways then one.

Striding forth he reached out an arm and grabbed her around her covered neck before another breath was expelled. Then he'd ragged her away from the spot they'd met and then pressed her against the side of a bait shop not wishing for anyone to interrupt with other business till he tended to the wench. He loved the smell of sea that was soaked into her skin, too often women around Pyke reeked too much of shit and fish so much so that the saltiness on Lhiannon was a welcome gift to the King of the Iron Islands.

Once she was pinned his other arm pinned her an arm to the wall as he pressed his body close to test the waters while he relaxed his grip on her throat ever so slightly. His gloved hand holding her at the wrist never let up and he brought the hand that had dragged her up to her chin and tugged her up to look at his face.

"A daughter of Seaguard knows her place well Lhiannon." He said complimenting her and her bluntness, she was not such a timid thing on first impression and her figure would look quite good played out on her back on his bed or wherever he sought to take what he wanted.

"I'm curious to see what your sword and dirk will try to say about this." He said with a bemused look on his features almost as if to dare her to try something anything as he held her there away from the prying eyes of the shipyards.

Lhiannon had not expected the assault and her eyes widened as her back hit a wooden wall, knocking some of the resistance out of her. If this had been any other man she would have driven her knee up into his crotch by now but this was King Kaverion Greyjoy. Regardless of his rank, she wasn't some tavern wench to be tumbled for a few coppers... not that he had offered her money. His grip on her throat eased a little and Lhiannon glared up at him as he lifted her chin, her breath coming in short, hard sobs of fear and indignation.

"A daughter of Seaguard knows her place well Lhiannon. I'm curious to see what your sword and dirk will try to say about this."

The urge to struggle was dangerously potent. His booted foot prevented her from defensively closing her legs and his tall, broad frame completely dwarfed her own. Legend about Kaverion's skills in wenching and brawling abounded throughout Pyke but Lhiannon had always naively imagined that such a nobleman would limit his acts of rape to the women of raided towns upon the mainland of Westeros.

"I am not fool enough to lift a weapon in an act of treason to my King." She retorted, "but I've no doubt my father will have more to say about such an assault than my blades." She held his gaze recklessly, not about to lose her maidenhead in an alley against a baitshop wall after guarding her virtue on the point of a sword all the years since her flowering. "If you wish to take me to wife, I know my father will not refuse you. Otherwise, there are whorehouses aplenty your grace and I doubt not that you can afford the most beautiful and talented of courtesans."

Her whole body was tensed. If he trespassed further than this he would have a fight on his hands but Lhiannon dared to hope that he was merely toying with her, in the manner arrogant royals are wont to do. She did not want to appear prudish and if she struck her King there would be no way back from that. The hangman's noose, beheading block and crow cages were permanent fixtures outside Kaverion's castle gates, as were the stocks where women unfortunate to have been raped by the wrong men often languished, being used by ironmen to poor or tight to visit a brothel until they died from dehydration or maltreatment.

"I thought you were already married, your Grace." she added, as it seemed Kaverion had momentarily forgotten, despite the heavy gold ring on his heartfinger. "Did not Lord Frey give you one of his daughters last year?"

For a moment Kaverion's mind went back to his Frey wife. He was easy enough on the eyes to be sure but such a meek little creature that there was little pleasure to be had in taking her to his bed. He had already spilled his seed numerous times in his wife's womb and knew she would likely bear him a child soon but that child would be of half Frey stock. Not true Ironborn in Kaverion's mind.

"It may be that Lord Walder Frey is the only ally I will require for our campaign." He said subtly enough knowing that he would be easily able to keep an affair with Lhiannon secret and besides even if he wrote Walder Frey directly about it what could the old man do. Kaverion held one of his daughters and potentially one of his grandchildren. But that would be settled in time.

But the children of him and Lhiannon now there would be a sight. True warriors and likely stubborn and unyielding to boot. He could sense the fight in her while he had his knee wedged between her legs. A small cruel smile appeared on his lips and he shifted and rubbed the width of his thigh against the point between her legs while he kept his grip firm on her.

He did not move to choke her any more but he wished to have her there against the wall. "Besides. She is not Ironborn. She is not made of stock from the Old Wyck or of Seaguard. She is a creature of the green lands." He said and leaned in to take in the saltiness of her skin again. Kaverion did not press into her neck but continued to rub against her clothing wondering if he should waste time telling her father how he intended to take Lhiannon as his wife, at the moment it was the furthest from his mind as he just watched the beautiful woman held in his grip.

Lhiannon lifted herself up onto her toes but she was so tiny that she couldn't keep Kaverion's knee from pressing between her legs. His intentions were swiftly becoming crystal clear and she found herself fighting panic. He leaned in close to her and inhaled. His proximity was unnerving her.

"Besides. She is not Ironborn. She is not made of stock from the Old Wyck or of Seaguard. She is a creature of the green lands."

"I am no man's salt wife." Lia replied indignantly. "My father already has a suitor in mind for me." She lied, the better to give him pause.

Since he made no move to release her Lhiannon finally swallowed her pride.

"Please unhand me, your Grace." She said it as deferentially as she could... which admittedly wasn't terribly.

Kaverion didn't stop as his dark eyes looked at her. The softness of her hazel eyes at that moment was not lost on the reaver king as he held her and continued to rub his leg looking to elicit more of the reaction he wanted. Sure he could have cut away her dress in moments and fought her down to the ground where he would take what was his but he didn't and he wasn't sure why.

"Then he will become a disappointed suitor and if he tries anything he will be a dead suitor. " Kaverion stated with no care for what the man might think if she was telling him the truth. Kaverion was the King of the Ironborns, strength and death carved out from the sea and the rock. A hard man and he knew that all the same a simple word to her father and she would be his. Yet he lingered close as he rubbed her nether clothing.

He leaned in close to her but did not make any move to brush his cheek against hers or press his nose into the crook of her neck. His sharp eyes just watched her taking in her features as they were and wondering if she tasted of salt. "I know what your father would say but what do you say Lhiannon of Seaguard." Kaverion dipped his chin slightly and it appeared as if his lips might brush up against hers though he pulled back curious to see how she would answer.

"... what do you say Lhiannon of Seaguard."

It was hard to think with him scrutinising her so closely. She did not need to wonder how many women he must have tumbled with such a proposal. If he misliked this Frey woman as much as he claimed that meant Lhiannon could even become a queen in time one day, the Queen of the Iron Islands and of whatever lands Kaverion got a chokehold on upon mainland Westeros.

"I say that you should approach my father honourably for my hand, when you are at liberty to do so."

It stung her that he thought she could be bought with a few sweet words. She had only just met the man and the gods alone knew how many women and bastards he had strewn across the Seven Kingdoms.

She squirmed, turning her hips sideways and trying to evade the press of his knee. It took no great knowledge of animal husbandry to deduce why the front of his leather tunic stretched taut over his brae-clad manhood. Lhiannon decided that this had all gone quite far enough. She pushed against the unyielding wall of his chest, making it clear that she wanted him to let her go.

Kaverion's cruel smiled kept itself on his lips even as he felt her try to squirm away from him but his strength was unyielding and the barest trace of true desire was in his eyes.

He had half a mind to just rip her clothes away in that moment and thrust his cock into her as he forced her onto the wooden planks of the dock. Kaverion knew he would enjoy her body greatly once he got her out of her leathers. But her loyalty to her father made him pause. He had offered her the chance to share his bed and kingdom and yet she wished for him to be honorable and approach her father.

It only he had found her amongst the greenlands he wouldn't have to contend with such a request but she was of the Iron Islands and Kaverion did not want her for a simple mistress or little peach to squeeze on the side. He saw promise in her eyes and his grip lessened while his knee fell away and he placed a hand almost gently on her side and looked at her.

"I shall speak with your father." It was a kindness, a small one at best but a kindness all the same and as he turned he found he didn't like the taste of it on his lips. Much better to have just taken her and then informed her father. But he was king and as much as that gave him he knew the cost of angering those whom he relied upon. Beric was of Seaguard and Kaverion's hold over the Iron Islands was not such that he would risk angering him unnecessarily.

He found the building soon enough where she had emerged from and strode inside hoping to find her father as quickly as possible to make the tiresome arrangements. The swell of his cock as he touched and held her was not so easily forgotten. It shook how much he wanted her, craved her.

"Baric Seaguard I would have words with you." Kaverion stated as he flushed any annoyance out of his voice and features but nonetheless adopted a more unrelenting posturing as he stood in the building.

Lhiannon stood dumbfounded as he strode away. They had spent a matter of moments together and now he was going to approach her father? This she had to see. Lhiannon followed at a jog to catch up to Kaverion's swift stride.

All her hopes of becoming a queen were dashed to smithereens however, when Kaverion told her father that he could not put his wife aside until after his campaign, but that he was not prepared to wait that long to make Lhiannon his.

Beric stood open-mouthed, totally forgetting his courtesies. His eyes cast from Kaverion to Lhiannon, then narrowed suspiciously.

"Lhiannon, have you had dealing with this... with his Grace before? If things have so gone with you that you no longer have your virtue, I would hear it from your own lips."

"Never father." Lhiannon was clearly as shocked and incredulous as Beric was. "I never cast eyes on him... his Grace, from his coronation to not moments ago outside." Her face flushed with fresh indignation and the realisation her father had doubted her. When had she ever given him cause?

Kaverion vouched for her honour and then paced the run down office building, musing aloud that the Seaguard could no doubt use more battle trained oarsmen, more gold in its coffers. He suggested that someone who had served House Greyjoy for the many long years that Beric had was due some compensation, something to set aside for his twilight years. Beric lifted his chin as though to refuse Kaverion but after a few more moments thought he seemed to change his mind.

"Would you grant me a moment alone with my daughter, your Grace?"

Kaverion raised an eyebrow but consented to step outside.

"Child, you are very fortunate that Kaverion even bothered to seek my leave. You must understand that I cannot refuse him."

"You cannot mean this!" She cried, "You would hand me to him out of wedlock, as an unpaid whore?"

"Lower your voice or hold your tongue." He hissed, eyeing the door warily. "If I do not give you freely he will take you by force. If he does not do that he will see that your honour is smirched so that no other man will wed you. You do not know how men like him think. He has pain the Iron price for everything he owns since he could curl his fingers into a fist."

"You said you would not marry me unwilling." She protested.

"Nor will I have done, till he tires of licking old man Frey's bunghole to keep the Twins open to him. All I said was that I would take your feelings into account, soft-hearted as I am. It is long past time that you were wed. I have been far too lenient with you. You cannot lark about on boats, dressed like a common street urchin until you're past bearing children. The Gods know that if Kaverion cannot make a lady out of you, no man can. Now get yourself home, boil up some water for a bath, change into your holiday gown, run a comb through that rats nest of yours and you will present yourself to Kaverion this evening if I have to truss you up and dump you at the foot of his throne!"

Lhiannon's eyes were hot with angry tears of betrayal.

"I will never forgive you for this." She hissed, before sweeping out of the office and past King Kaverion without so much as glancing at him, tears splashing down her chest.

"If it please your Grace..." Beric held the door open for Kaverion and ushered him back inside.


Lhiannon fought with the laces of her holiday gown. She hardly ever wore dresses and hated the way they made her feel confined, clumsy and put on display like a prime cut of meat. Around her throat she wore an amulet that had belonged to her mother. Her hair she left long and loose, for she was simply out of practise when it came to styling it. Her skin was tanned from sailing and her dark blonde hair had glints of gold where the sun had caught it. Her muscles were defined from physical labour. She was radiant with health and vitality, something the interbred Freys sorely lacked.

Beric summoned a carriage, so that Lhiannon's dress would not be muddied by the road. People stared as she went past in her finery and she got more than a few catcalls. Lhiannon was flushing scarlet. Everyone knew Kaverion was married and it wasn't going to take genius to deduce that she was being taken to his keep as a sweetmeat.

"I really hope you know what you're doing father." She said, swallowing hard.

"Kaverion has said that he will put this other woman aside. She must know that you're now his intended or he would not have you brought here so publicly. I will push tirelessly for you to become his lawful wife. Kaverion will no doubt be... demanding but keep in mind daughter that only the Frey girl stands between you and becoming Queen of the Iron Islands." Instead of reassuring her, this last comment only made Lhiannon more apprehensive. Beric took her hand. "He's a Greyjoy; just keep your mouth shut and your legs open."

"Father!"

Beric remained in the carriage when Lhiannon arrived and she found she missed his solid presence. An obsequious servant showed her through to the great hall, where Kaverion was sat upon an ornately carved throne. His wife was conspicuously absent. There were a few men whiling away the evening at dice or drinking before the fire but the hall was mostly empty. Lhiannon's steps echoed across the stone floor.

"Miss Lhiannon Seaguard, your Grace." The man said sniffily, clearly unhappy about announcing the arrival of a commoner.

Kaverion looked at her with his predatory dark eyes and smiled. Her father had done far more than the old man knew and Kaverion thanked him greatly for it.

"If things have so gone with you that you no longer have your virtue, I would hear it from your own lips."

The shocked near shameful look on Lhiannon had been priceless to his ears as much as his eyes. Kaverion could not have wished for a better future bride to be found in all the Seven Kingdoms. He held little care for how Lhiannon felt. He had offered up the chance to tell him what she thought of his proposal but she had dutifully deferred to her father. Likely she had not thought that Kaverion would rush off to speak to the man right then and there but then he had not gotten where he was without being bold.

Kaverion drank from a silver goblet in the shape of a kracken with it's tenticles stretched out around a half globe while it's head served as the bottom of the goblet. He set the drink down and wiped his lips as he strode from his throne. He wore a dark doublet for the occasion and chainmail beneath it. His leggins were striped black on blue but the knees had the show of being well worn. Two mismatched rings lay on his left hand as he strode forward.

"I've been waiting." He said simply while he looked over her green dress and the body it hid from him and then he took her arm and directed her through a nearby doorway. Kaverion did not rush but then he did not give her much room to resist. Then a door opened and they inside his chambers. He did not ask if she was hungry or if she wanted drink. Those needs were unimportant to him right now.

"You look beautiful Lhiannon." He offered as he let go of her hand and looked at her for a moment. He kept his distance this time however and was roughly half a foot from his face when he offered up the remark.

People eyed her with interest as Kaverion approached her and there were more than a few smirks cast her way. Lhiannon gritted her teeth, she was just going to have to get used to this. She was a mistress now. She was almost relieved to follow him out of the room and away from the other men's scrutiny... right up until she arrived at his bedroom that was.

"You look beautiful Lhiannon." He told her. It was strange to hear a courtier's charm from such a muscular brute of a man. His mail and doublet just made him seem huge. The thought of coupling with such a beast was horrifying and for the first time that day her voice faltered.

"Th-thankyou, your Grace."

She stared up at him helplessly, her eyes beseeching him for a mercy she knew he did not possess. She couldn't believe he had taken her straight to his bedroom without so much as a cup of wine, like she was a common whore.

Well wasn't she?

No. Whores at least got compensated. Whores lived as they pleased.

Panic started to surge in her chest, her hear hammering against her ribcage. Maybe it was better this way. Maybe it would all be over soon.

"Would you like anything Lhiannon?" Kaverion continued to act in a charming slightly suave demeanor as if he hadn't just purchased her from her father with the full intents of fucking her and seeding the next line of Greyjoys. He truly wanted to know if she did want anything. He had brought her to his chamber so that yes eventually they would lay together but he had was not a simple man, a bold man yes but not simple.

"I have Dornishes Reds and Arbor Golds from or water if it suits your needs. I only took you from the hall because enough tales will fly from simply bringing you here alone. I would prefer to have you just to myself and no other prying eyes." The King said thoguh he could tell by the sight increase in her breathing that she was distraught over the situation.

"Two servants, Igs and Silar will always be within earshot to serve you while inside the keep. If your heart is set on it perhaps we shall get you a made as well." Kaverion set down a dagger to the left side of a small table that ran along the left wall of the room. He poured one of the Reds to his cup and sipped it seemingly ignoring her.

Servants or gaolers? Probably a little of both. Lhiannon tried valiantly to keep her composure, unused as she was to such esteemed company and opulent surroundings.

"The Dornish Red please."

Lhiannon had drunk plenty of wine in her time but in strict moderation. Her father didn't let her over-indulge and at sea it just wasn't safe to be off her guard, not least among her own crewmates.

It was utterly surreal, watching the King of the Iron Islands serve her a goblet of rich dark wine. Lhiannon sat down awkwardly in a nearby chair, cursing her skirts for the thousandth time. How did women wear this stuff every single day? She took the goblet when he offered her and took as healthy a swig as she dared without looking like a tavern wench. If she was going to lie with Kaverion, better that she sunk a few of these.

The wine was of a far finer quality than she had ever tasted and it took her entirely by surprise. Delicate tones of blackberry and spice, with a darker undertone that tasted like the scent of warm leather. Lhiannon could not help savouring the wine, rolling it around her mouth before swallowing. The tiniest, softest hint of a moan fell from between moist parted lips stained a livid purple. She took another sip, more daintily this time, avoiding his gaze until she was more composed. Finally, she lifted her eyes.

"I would like a maid." She said simply. "I have little enough of a lady's refinements your Grace. I imagine it will take a full time maid to make me presentable enough to dwell within your keep." Another deep swallow of wine and she grew yet bolder. If she was to play the harlot, she deserved a little compensation. "Your Grace will no doubt find my wardrobe lacking, indeed this is the finest gown I own and was once my mother's. For the nonce a maid and a seamstress would serve, along with some silver for cloth and so on. I won't be extravagant your Grace but neither do I intend to embarrass you by appearing out of place."

Kaverion studied her with a sharp eye. He was interested to hear her request a maid and a seamstress. They would be simple enough requests to be seen to and if they were the price to keep her happy and to feel good here he would do that accordingly.

He might have been a hulking brute of a rogue but here in the privacy of his bed chambers he did not have to be King Kaverion he just had to be Kaverion and he was not without some thoughts to her feelings.

"Lhiannon you could wear filthy beggar clothes and everyone in the Seven Kingdoms could say all they wanted and I would not care. They are all below us. Now they know the storm is rising and they sit their fumbling over themselves." Kaverion said before taking a drink of his own goblet and then standing over her as she sat. He ran a hand over her shoulder as he stood close.

"You shall have what you require provided I find you worthy enough of my love and warmth." Kaverion said though he couldn't help but smile, he hardly thought he or her would ever truly share love but he did not care. He wanted her body and he had given her the respite he felt should be given.

"Now let me see what my donation to your father has given me. Does it bother you that for all your loyalty to him that he sold you like a common whore?" Kaverion said and his teeth appeared in a cruel smirk. The dagger he had set down was still near to Lhiannon as she rested in her chair.

"You gave the man little enough choice." She hissed, flinching beneath his touch.

Lhiannon fought the urge to glance at the dagger and give her intentions away. She knew it was there. Now the moment was upon her she was wild with fright. She did not want to lie with this man, King or not. She stood swiftly, snatched up the dagger and brought up between his legs.

Then she realised that he was still wearing his ringmail. Lhiannon had not the strength to geld him through that. Instead she backed away, knocking her chair over and waving the blade at him defensively.

"I cannot do this! I do not want to!" She tried circling around him towards the door, not at all encouraged by the cruel grin on his face. "Please just let me go home."

So the Seaguard whore did have some fight left in her. Kaverion's eyes glinted an like the ancient sea creature that was his sigil he struck at the vessel that had wondered too close. In a flash after she crashed the chair over to the ground the Ironborn moved. He had no dagger as she did of course but he was not defenseless.

He dodged a wave of the blade and then his hands were on her. His impressive strength pinned her arms and back to the wall and he hammered out the blade from her hand. then he pressed himself hard up against her body. His growing erection was felt as his trousers pressed against her dress.

"I gave you the chance to speak your will as a true Ironborn this morning. You decided that I should consult your father. You have no one to blame but yourself. Kaverion said and then he pressed his lips upon her roughly to capture her taste while his right hand flung forward and yanked down the front of her bodice revealing her ample healthy looking breasts before he pressed in on her again.

His strength was breathtaking. Kaverion slammed her back into the nearest wall and beat her wrists against it until Lhiannon dropped the dagger. She cried out in shock and pain, tears springing to her eyes as he ripped the front of what had been her mothers dress, exposing her breasts. She twisted in his grip as he pressed his manhood into her, long as his dagger's blade and just as hard. Calloused hands mauled her tits lewdly as his deep voice rumbled cruelly into her ear.

"I gave you the chance to speak your will as a true Ironborn this morning. You decided that I should consult your father. You have no one to blame but yourself."

Even as his lips crashed down on hers Lhiannon felt the words sting. She would never have believed her father could have given her to this man, even if he believed there was no alternative. She was still of an age where it hurt and disappointed her that this was something Beric had been unable to protect her from.

She writhed in Kaverion's grip like a scalded cat, unable to just yield mutely to his advances. Her teeth closed around his lower lip and she bit down hard, until she tasted blood. Wild with panic and rage, Lhiannon spat Kaverion's blood into his face, as he pulled away, cursing, which was no mean feat for a girl as petite as she was.

"Anything you bring near my mouth will have the same fate!" She shrieked.

Kaverion's dark eyes glared at her though he couldn't help but give her a small smile as he spit away some blood from his lips. The red spit splattered on the floor as he looked at her.

He was on her again and cuffed her hard across the face with a right hook. Then he moved quickly and his strength helped him as he pressed back on her again and he dragged her over to his bed not letting up as he grabbed her by the wrist and side and then just flung her onto the bed.

Then he moved on her with sharp intensity in his eyes as he removed her shoes quickly and then removed his own boots as he prepared to ascend onto the bed.

The right hook stunned her, as did being flung bodily onto his bed. Lhiannon tried to flail and kick at him but again Kaverion was too fast for her. Her tits hug lewdly out of the front of her dress, which suffered another rip as she fought the folds of her skirts, trying to escape the huge four poster. He yanked the shoes from her feet and flung them to the floor.

As his right knee hit the bed, his left foot still on the floor, Lhiannon struck out with her heel and the obscene bulge beneath his ringmail. The armour kept her from seriously damaging him but she managed to slow him down. Lhiannon proceeded to lay about him with a bolster.

"You stay away from me with that... that thing!" She screamed.

She knew she was only delaying the inevitable. She knew she wouldn't get out of this room with her maidenhead. She also knew that fighting Kaverion was just going to make her ordeal more brutal. But Lhiannon was wild with terror and totally unable to lie meekly and let him rut with her like a farmyard beast. He might well beat her bloody but that pain she could quantify, it was a calculated risk. How it would feel to be held down while he rent her asunder with that swollen cock of his was something Lhiannon simply couldn't make herself contemplate, much less submit to.

Kaverion snarled at her though his cruel smile remained as they fought. His blood heated and his fingers clenched after her initial rebuke against his loins. While it was protected the blow made him all too wary of her tenacity. The Ironborn King mounted the bed and settled his torso over her knees to lock her in place and immediately he leaned forward ignoring any blows and tore down more of the bodice.

Lhiannon's stomach was revealed to him as he pulled the fabric hard and the sound of the tear filled the room as he worked to get to his prize. He thought he saw the simple garment of her small clothes protecting her maiden head and then he thrust his arms onto hers to pin her before he slapped her face again hard for striking him.

Then he leaned over her and bit down on one of her breasts hard. His teeth and tongue tasted her fleshy orb while he braced his body against any assault she mounted as he got the first taste of her flesh. Shifting slightly she could just feel his hardening cock through the dress that remained to cover her legs. Kaverion was voracious and then suckled on her nipple before biting there again as his eyes looked up at her with that predatory gleam.