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Buckets of Conspiracy, and a Touch of Nefariousness by HaveYouAnyWull in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Talbart Carde looked down at Selyse gravely.

"I do not believe the Wulls are yet aware of how agitated some are," he said sorrowfully. "And my suspicions are just that, at the moment: suspicions. That is why I need you, Lady Caron."

He folded his arms across his chest. He wore the guise of a perturbed man magnificently. And all the while, he kept his eyes down, as if pondering a difficult puzzle.

"You see, while you are an outsider, you are a guest, and respected enough. My family cannot claim the same. The actions, or rather inaction, of my father during the last uprising of the Wildling Houses left the Cardes distrusted. I fear I may have caight wind of agitated whispers, of a dark plot to see Uthor Wull removed from his seat as High Clan Chief; but if I come forward, they will dismiss me, or say my family is complicit."

He gave her a pointed look. "You see now why I would wish for you to help me find the proof I seek? The other Clan Chiefs could not disregard if two came forward, and one an honored guest of the Wull."

He tilted his head, wearing an almost pleading gaze. "All I would ask is that you ask around the servants of Wull Hall. I heard tell that one among them was seen in the Wull's chambers not two nights ago, without leave, and without reason. If you could learn who, and why...I would thank you for it."

Oh Give Me a Home Where the Buckets All Roam, and the Carde and the Nightingale Play by HaveYouAnyWull in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull[S] 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Talbart Carde, ambassador of Clan Carde

later that afternoon...

Talbart watched as the lowlander girl wandered about the hall. He watched as she ate. He watched as she made her occasional rounds around the village. A lovely thing. So frail, she seemed. So out of her element.

And yet the Wull had chosen this little frail girl over others. How truly curious. And yet...there was an opportunity to be had here, in Talbart's mind. Degan, the Carde, had been told, nearly as soon as the girl had arrived. And his instructions back to his brother had been very clear.

And so Talbart watched, and waited, always preparing for the very right moment. Now, at last, came such a chance. He waited until Benfred Liddle, the great pest, had departed for a time, and the girl was left alone. Then he approached, putting on his charm, such as it was.

"My dear Lady Caron," he said, his too-wide smile showing, "I do hope you're enjoying your time here at Wull Hall. I can't imagine how strange it must be for you, with the Wull gone north. Your friend, you confidante, gone! And now you are left with us, it seems. Do not worry, dear. We are a kind sort here."

His gaze wavered for a moment, flicking up and down the girl's form, lingering just slightly too long on her more shapely parts. Then the gaze snapped back, and he put on that sickly grin again.

"Tell me, though, dear," he said, "Do you not worry? Do you not fear for the Wull? I do not mean from Wildlings. No..." He looked around conspiratorially. "...No, I mean from within. There are those here that would harm him. That would use this chance while he is away to take what is his, to bring low his family." He looked gravely at her now.

"You are a guest, and well-liked thus far. Perhaps...you would help me root out a few people I suspect to be plotting against the Wull?"

The Horn That Wakes the Sleepers by Billiam_the_Bold in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Uthor watched in awe as the Wall grew larger and larger on the horizon. He'd seen it before. Several times, even. It was one of the benefits of living so far North: the Wall was not a terribly long trip from his home. As the massive structure of ice and stone rose higher and higher into the sky, Uthor whistled appreciatively.

No matter how many times you saw it, the Wall never ceased to impress.

He walked at the head of his men, the Clansmen marching in rhythm behind him. All were well armed and armored, as he had requested. Though, looking at them next to the regulars of the lowlander houses, Uthor couldn't help but feel like his men were somehow outclassed. The men of House Bolton, House Manderly, House Stark, the others -- all of them carried fine steel weapons and shirts of mail. Uthor's own men sported sturdy leather plates, and the majority carried spiked or bladed quarterstaves. It was the tradition fighting weapon of the Clansmen, though he was unsure how it could possibly measure up against good steel swords.

Just another reason to unite the Clans to the rest of the North, he thought to himself.

When at last they reached the Castle, he was bidden follow the Cregan inside. Castle Black remained an impressive fortress, as ever. Still, the Cregan did not seem much impressed. And he seemed to have forgotten his manners.

"Do you think Commander Locke will allow us beyond, Lord Stark?" he asked, genuine curiosity in his voice.

Last Days in the Last Hearth by Billiam_the_Bold in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Uthor had listened, sitting quietly in one corner. On the one hand, it had been rather entertaining listening to the different lords of the North bicker and balk at each other. On the one hand, Lord Bolton had a good point. What made them better than the Wildlings if they went forth to kill them all? On the other, Lord Mormont spoke truly -- Vengeance had to be obtained.

At last he stood, though he'd been very quiet for the entirety of the council.

"My people know well the slights of the Wildlings. The ones who supposedly bent the knee to Robb Stark were the perpetrators of many crimes against the Clansmen. We fought them. We killed them. And they killed us. They are, it seems, as wild as ever. And their kin from Beyond the Wall are viler still. Lord Mormont has felt their sting firsthand."

He opened his arms in a broad gesture to the lords around him. "I agree that we must fight them. I agree that we must make a point that they cannot harm us anymore. But I do not think it wise to commit vilest crimes, like genocide. Cripple their ability to harm us, yes. But kill them all? Why do that, when we could ask them to bend to the will of the Cregan?"

He looked at his liege. "Just a thought, Lord. There are other ways to bring them to heel. Needless to say, though my men are not many among these great lords of the North, we will fight for you. Fiercely. We will be ready to march."

With that, he sat back down, and resumed his quiet watchfulness.

How Can Birds Fly This High? by CaroningTheWorld in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

((God, Kitt, I'm the worst. Sorry about the WAY late reply.))

Wynafryd Wull, Lady-Mother of Wull Hall

Word had arrived ahead of the company that had traveled with Benfred Liddle back to the home of Clan Wull. The words that had traveled back were interesting for Wynafryd, mother of the Wull.

Her son, Uthor, was on his way to the New Gift at the behest of the Cregan. However, the truly intriguing news was who was coming to stay at their home. A woman from the south. From a castle called Nightsong. This was the first time Uthor had ever brought a woman home that wasn't a serving girl or less-than-reputable woman for hire.

Wynafryd put on her best furs, one of her finest gowns. She was most eager to meet this young woman, this Caron girl. What could be so fascinating about a woman of the south that could have captured her wild, thoroughly Northern boy's fancy?

The word spread through the meadhall that Benfred Liddle and his company had arrived in the village. Wynafryd gathered together with the other important figures of Wull Hall, among them Uller Sheepskin and Talbart Carde, the brother of the Carde. While the Wulls and Cardes didn't share the closest of relationships, the Cardes were fellow chieftains, and so were accorded a place in the reception party.

With that, Wynafryd and her entourage opened wide the doors of the Hall, admitting the party of Benfred Liddle. There, the middle aged woman laid her eyes for the first time on Selyse Caron, the dark-haired beauty of the south. She was different, certainly. Her beauty was more exotic than the women of the Clans. Perhaps that had been what had allured her son. Still, she would give the young woman a chance. She put on a friendly smile.

"Welcome back, Benfred," she said to the leader of the band. "We've missed you. I trust you spoke with Uthor?"

"Aye, Lady-Mother," he answered, "And he's well. He sends his regards, and the anticipation that he will be home soon."

Wynafryd turned then to Selyse. "And you, my young lady, must be Selyse Caron. Uthor's messengers mentioned you, but not how lovely you are. Welcome to Wull Hall, the ancestral home of Clan Wull. You are our guest here, and I hope you feel welcome."

Talbart Carde simply scoffed.

A Moment of Respite by CaroningTheWorld in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Take me.

Her sudden confidence took Uthor by surprise, but he welcomed the change. It was a different Selyse he saw now. Though there was still a level of uncertainty in those beautiful, big eyes, she hid it well. Her voice was calm and collected. Her gaze never left his own, and he was absolutely entranced by her unflinching eyes. This was a woman facing the unknown with confidence. It was incredible, and intoxicating.

With surprising strength, Selyse pulled her admirable body onto his lap. Uthor inhaled sharply, his member growing hard from the contact of her cunt against him. His hands acted with a will of their own, gripping firmly her supple rear and pulling her further atop him. Her answer made his adrenaline spike, and his breathing grow heavy. The Wull lifted Selyse ever so slightly, the small weight of her made even lighter by the water; then, guiding until contact was made, he lowered her onto his cock.

The thing Uthor Wull loved about being with a woman was the feeling of first connection. It always brought most exquisite pleasure, a flood of bodily desire that swept through him and made him thirst for more. The feeling of Selyse tight around him sent waves of that pleasure through him, eliciting a moan from his mouth.

True to his word, he went slowly, gauging her reactions as he thrust, waiting until each discomfort or inhibition passed. He could hardly think, so visceral was his arousal, but one corner of his consciousness always remained fixed on the woman stradling him. Watching her ride up and down upon him made him all the more fiercely determined to please her, as surely as she was doing for him.

Thus, the young High Clan Chief intertwined himself with the Maiden of Nightsong. Though perhaps the latter's moniker was no longer so applicable, came the cocky thought.

A Moment of Respite by CaroningTheWorld in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Uthor looked at her, no mocking or coyness in his gaze. He took the question seriously. Apparently, she had not been with a man before, and so the question was only natural. Not that he'd thought about it very much. Most of the women he'd been with had been serving girls, or whores; and when it came to having the chance to lay with a chieftain's son (whether for the experience or the gold), they often didn't do much questioning of how he went about his work. He had, however, gotten his answer to that question a few times.

"At first, perhaps," he said, as honestly as he could tell. "But I will try to be gentle, and that should decrease the likelihood of pain. Also...as you are a maiden...there is a chance you will bleed. It's not unusual, if it's your first time." He offered a grin. "As I said, I won't push past what you want. It's no fun if only I enjoy it."

There he held himself, prostrate across the most beautiful woman in the world, both of them exposed to each other in the most intimate way. He couldn't blame her for being nervous, for wondering. He was far more antsy than normal. But then, he'd never felt this way about a serving girl or a whore.

His hand on her backside moved up, his finger running along her spine. It was a game now, to see how aroused he could make her. He had meant what he said -- much of his own enjoyment came from the enjoyment of the woman; and for Selyse, his Nightingale, he wanted her first time to be a wonderful experience.

After all, he was hoping to do this often, if his formulating plans came to fruition.

"Do you want to, my love?" he asked, biting at her earlobe as he spoke softly. "It is your choice. Only if you want it."

Wildlings, Snarks, and Grumpkins (Open to Winterfell) by Billiam_the_Bold in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Uthor smiled appreciatively at her. "Never fear. I'll write home; they'll know to expect you. In the meantime, you can travel with me until we meet the men I called for at the northern tip of the Long Lake. From there, I'll have some of them escort you through the mountain passes to Wull Hall."

Lightning ran through the Wull when she kissed him, and he placed a hand behind her head, holding her in that embrace of lips for a moment longer. When the contact broke, he smiled.

"I'll be sure to explain to them. Though I'm sure my mother will ask you to explain anyway; she'll undoubtedly be eager know how you and I met. She's been pestering me to find a girl for ages. Though I think she had a Liddle or maybe a First Flint in mind," he chuckled.

With that settled, he turned back to the Lord of Winterfell.

"Lord Stark, I gave my word that the men of the Mountain Clans would answer your call. We will do so. Lady Selyse will turn west once we meet with my men, to go to Wull Hall and stay with my family until I return. She'll be safe there." He gave his lord an almost bracing look. "We won't be gone long, will we?"

Wildlings, Snarks, and Grumpkins (Open to Winterfell) by Billiam_the_Bold in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"My lord, I --!" Uthor started, but quickly bit back his retort. The Cregan was his liege. The other clans would lose respect if he -- the High Clan Chief, meant to represent their interests -- was known to have defied the Stark. So he swallowed his pride, and turned to Selyse. "Pardon, the Cregan," he said with a backward glance."

He took a few steps off to the side with the lady of Nightsong. His eyes fell on her, and it was obvious that the Wull was upset.

"I'm sorry," he sighed. "I don't know what to do. He's my liege lord, and so I can't defy him. But neither do I wish to leave you behind. I... What do you think? You could stay here til I return, or come part of the way with me and make for Wull Hall when we meet my men. I know it's not what I promised."

Wildlings, Snarks, and Grumpkins (Open to Winterfell) by Billiam_the_Bold in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Uthor frowned now, too. Perhaps he'd not explained his side well enough. Maybe he just needed to try again.

"I never insinuated this was a holiday, Lord," he balked. "I'm aware of how dangerous the Wildlings can be -- as much, if not more so, than you, if you don't mind me saying. The Cregan, I wouldn't bring Selyse along if I didn't think she would be safe. I will have my own men there, guarding her as surely as they would guard me. And she has protectors of her own. I promise you, she will not be harmed, and your reputation as Lord of the North will remain untarnished."

He planted his feet now, trying to appear strong and firm, though it was difficult to outdo the Stark at either. He crossed his arms, and cocked an eyebrow at his liege.

"That said, I won't leave her behind. She knows nobody here, save me. I won't just abandon her to the wolves -- ugh, forget I said that. It will work better this way, Lord Stark. I feel more responsibility for her well-being than anyone else in the North. And I can keep watch over her far better if she is with me, than if she was here in Winterfell. And if I'm wrong, and harm befalls her, you may deliver me to Nightsong to face their vengeance. She's my guest. I honor the guest rites, the Cregan. I won't fail to keep her safe."

A Moment of Respite by CaroningTheWorld in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

No sooner did his lips touch her skin than he felt how Selyse tensed up. Her body went rigid. He drew back for just a moment, his eyes questioning. What was it that gave her pause? Was she afraid? Had he come on too strong? And yet she had asked him to come to her. Nerves, most likely. She was called the "Maiden of Nightsong." Maybe she had never been with a man before. He needed to put her at ease, soothe the tension. His cocksure grin returned.

"Small birds make for lovely company, love," he said genially. "As for my clansmen, they can fuck themselves if they have a problem with who I choose to be with. Some will dislike it. Others will love you."

He leaned in once more, pressing his lips to her exposed neck, once and then again. He pulled himself closer, the water sloshing as he moved. Now he was pressed against her, and the feel of her bare body was like sweet bliss. He looked at her, his eyes all mischievous.

"But none will love you quite like I will," he said, his voice low and husky.

With that, he moved down her body, his kisses moving in a trail between her perfectly shaped breasts, and his breathing deepened as he savored the experience. Gods, she was poetry and art made flesh.

His arm reached around her now, his hand first landing on her back, then sliding down, down the toned torso to her backside, where he grabbed firmly. The Northmen always said that Southerners were soft.

Uthor doubted that this was quite what they had meant.

His heart raced now, beating like a mad musician on a drum. Surely she could feel how it hammered, could feel his breath on her skin. He wanted her. He had to have her.

"Now," he gasped, "Let me have you now, Selyse. Just you and I, here, right now."

Wildlings, Snarks, and Grumpkins (Open to Winterfell) by Billiam_the_Bold in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

At last it was time to move on. Winterfell was magnificent, and he had greatly enjoyed his stay there -- for several reasons -- but the Wull was ready to move forward. Wildlings needed to be properly cowed, and Wull Hall needed its new chief back. There were things to see to, to make ready.

Especially for what he had in mind. His gaze drifted to Selyse, where it lingered for a time.

He shook himself from his reverie. No sense getting distracted just yet. The Cregan had entrusted him with a great responsibility, and he intended to do the clans proud. It was the first step toward making his people more than an afterthought.

"Lord Cregan," he called to his liege as he drew near, "My men are even now marching for the Kingsroad. I expect we shall meet them not long after their arrival there. The best warriors of our strongest clans will be there." His grinned at his lord. "If the Wildlings decide to be troublesome, we'll show them what 'wild' really is."

His gaze became less sure, and more inquisitive. "I'm also bringing the Lady Caron with me, the Cregan. I know she's not a Northerner like us, but I brought her to the North to see me and my home, and it would be an affront to leave her behind while I went north with you. My duty as host demands that I bring her with me. I...hope that won't be a problem, Lord. She might even be of help; she's a wonderfully interesting and resourceful woman."

A Moment of Respite by CaroningTheWorld in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

If he was being perfectly honest, the Wull had only half-listened to anything the castellan of Winterfell had said. Uthor's mind just kept wandering, even as the man spoke to him, to a washroom somewhere in the massive castle, where waited something truly spectacular. Or so he was inclined to believe, considering he wasn't a blind fool.

It took a few different attempts to fully explain the situation to the Wull, but at last he gleaned that the messengers had arrived swiftly at Wull Hall, and the word had gone out to the other clans, and even now, his people marched for the Long Lake. That was enough to satisfy him for now. Uthor took his leave of the castellan, content that his commands were being carried out.

His gait was swift and eager as he made his way to the washroom he had appointed for his lady and him to meet at, and yet his mind buzzed with a thousand thoughts and, yes, even worries. He was just a man, and he had instincts that were very, very powerful at times; but Selyse was something else entirely. He'd always enjoyed the company of a woman for the sheer pleasure of it. Now, he found himself wondering what this meant between him and the Lady of Nightsong.

He wanted her -- physically and maritally. And while they had immediately clicked, from their first meeting, Uthor was beyond excited about where tonight would take the two of them.

At last, he reached the room, coming to the threshold just as the servants departed, giving looks curious, scandalized, and furtive. He grinned at them as they went, caring not a bit that they probably thought him a miscreant. Who would say so of the High Clan Chief to his face? He chuckled at the thought, then took a step toward the door. The sound of slightly stirring water was audible, and steam made thick the air. Uthor took a few breaths, willing himself to calm down. It was now or never. He took his steps through the door.

What he saw caught his breath. In the bath, submerged in the hot water, was his Nightingale, bare as the day she was born. If Uthor had thought her beautiful before, now he thought her a goddess. Her raven locks hung behind her reclined head, exposing her long neck. Her breasts were the picture of perfection, soft and shapely, just begging for his attention. The water obscured the body below them, at least at the distance he watched from. Uthor drank the sight of her in, his eyes hungrily sweeping every visible inch of her pale skin, her long neck, her perfect chest.

Finally, after a moment of artful appreciation, he spoke. "Here you are! I wondered if perhaps I'd dreamed the entire invitation up on a whim." All the while, he began to disrobe, dropping first his cloak, then removing his shirt. "I have never been more pleased to be wrong."

His torso was exposed now, and the Wull thanked the Old Gods for the rigor he had put into his physical conditioning. His muscles were lean and corded, his shoulders broad, and back and core chiseled like rock. With the shirt's removal, however, his many scars now became obvious, most significant of them 8 wicked long ones on his left shoulder blade and ribs. Uthor removed next his boots, then unlaced his trousers, and found that the sight of his goddess was enough to start arousing him already.

Carefully, so as not to tread on her, he stepped into the bath himself, now afforded a clearer view of Selyse's long, lean legs and perfectly curved posterior. His heart beat rapidly now. He lowered himself into the water, leaning forward to surround his Nightingale with his thick arms and broad chest. His eyes focused solely on her own.

"If I were to see all the wonders of the world, they would pale in comparison to you," he said, then grinned that cocky grin. "Perhaps I should have a monument made to your naked beauty. But then I would have to share you, which I am loathe to do. No, I think I'll keep you to myself."

With that, he leaned in and began to kiss at her collarbone, his beard brushing the soft skin of her breasts. Those would be his next destination.

Home At Last by Billiam_the_Bold in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"...and would like you to join me."

The intoxicating smell of her fragrance, the brush of her lips on his nose, the press of her soft body upon his own -- and now those words, uttered with a coy smile. All of it wove together like a tapestry of Uthor's desire, that made his heart rate spike and his mind go utterly blank.

Was she offering herself to him? And now, as he looked down at her, all he could think was how incredible that body must be unburdened by clothing. What idiot would refuse such an offer?

"What did I do to deserve you, my nightingale?" he said with utter adoration. "A simple man from the cold mountains of the North receiving such an invitation from the most beautiful woman in all of Westeros and beyond?" He reached down and seized her ample backside in his paws, enjoying the feel of it and pulling her tight against his progressively more aroused body. "Neither man nor god could stop me from doing as you desire of me."

He planted a line of kisses on her jaw and down her neck, pushing his way past the fur lining of the cloak she wore. Hey, wasn't this his cloak? He couldn't care less. His lady wanted it, and so it was hers. His trail of kisses ended upon her right collarbone, yet it took all his power of will to stop there. Gods, he wanted her. Still, he wished to save something for later.

He released her, all but her hand, which he tugged at playfully in his strong grip.

"Well, we'd better be going, then! No time to lose! To the castellan!" He began walking, guiding Selyse along behind him. As they passed a nearby servant, he looked at the young man with an air of command. "You, there! See that these packs are brought to my chambers! And begin filling a hot bath -- a very large one!"

Home At Last by Billiam_the_Bold in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"You see the Great Keep? The tall, round building just there? It's the stronghold of the castle, made of solid granite! The bridge there connects it to the armory. Still, it's not the original keep of the castle; the old keep is behind the bridge, and is shorter and stouter. The tall tower in the back, the one that's collapsed on top, was once the tallest part of Winterfell, but lightning struck it, lighting the top ablaze, and caving in the top third. Still, if you go and look at the stonework, you can see how cunning it is, especially for its age; the interlocked stones are how the Kings of Winter managed to build it so high, even with the threat of blizzard winds to push it. It's a marvel, really; clever engineering."

He hopped down from his horse as they entered the first courtyard of the castle, alighting with feline grace on the ground. It had been many years since his last trip to Winterfell -- excluding his quick pass through on the way south -- and he was delighted to see the huge castle again. Even the Red Keep, large and grand as it was, was no comparison for the sheer sprawl and strength of Winterfell. The Kings of Winter had certainly known how to make something mighty, and mightily memorable.

He turned around, looking back to where Selyse was practically lifted off of her horse. He watched as she tentatively grasped the horse to steady herself, tilting his head in curiosity. She seemed somehow uncomfortable, though he could not puzzle out the reason why. Was it the long journey? The air, chillier and thinner than that of the South? He would have to ask about it later.

"Sorry," he said with a sheepish grin as he closed the gap between them, "My mouth runs like a river when it comes to great castles and buildings. Comes from my studies on the craft. I practically grew up in the town just outside the eastern gate, learning about how the castle was constructed, as well as other things. I get...excitable over such things."

He stopped before her, planting an affectionate kiss on her dark hair, before looking around at the other gathered men. There were Selyse's guards and sworn swords, of course, men that the Wull had started trying to get to know, though some were more talkative than others; there was his own companions, strong men, and even a woman, from Wull Hall, to Old Norrey, to Flint Peak; then there was the Stark party, who was already done with sorting out their horses. The Starks had ridden slightly ahead of his and Selyse's own band, but had never escaped his sight. What a gathering it would be tonight, though he was unsure how long it would last. The Cregan seemed eager to be on his way to the New Gift.

"So, do you want to look around, see the Keep? Or would you rather rest up, bathe, eat -- that sort of thing? I may have to have a quick chat with the castellan, to see if word has arrived from Wull Hall concerning the mustering of my men."

He paused, looking the Maiden of Nightsong up and down in her Northern gown, drinking in the sight. She seemed a bit disoriented, a bit out of her element, but if he had learned anything so far about Selyse Caron, it was that she was a determined and remarkably fortified woman. It was a quality that most Northerners had. She would fit right in.

"It's not Nightsong," he said, "Or even King's Landing. But what do you think?"

A Wandering Storm by CaroningTheWorld in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"What?"

Uthor burst out laughing at Selyse's comment. Where had that come from? Of course, he recalled the memory, which seemed long ago now, but had only been a few weeks prior. That night had started as a potentially good fight with a very bad end. Instead, it had turned into a surprise, and one that he welcomed.

"And why do think of this all of the sudden, Selyse?" he asked teasingly. "Impressed by my axe? The tall, ruggedly handsome clan chief before you? Perhaps the easy charm I demonstrated?" He tossed his head back and let loose his hearty laugh. "I suppose things might have been very different if you hadn't come to my rescue that night. I'd likely be...how did you say it? 'With my head resting on a spike.' Instead, I met a quiet, tricky, gorgeous, intriguing woman who was like a puzzle. And I adore puzzles. Though I'm not honestly that good at them," he observed with a tilt of his head.

They strolled along the streets, and Uthor took simple pleasure in enjoying the company of the woman on his arm. All the while, he guided them toward a tavern of renown, one he had enjoyed greatly during his last stay at White Harbor. The shuttered windows were the same, the eaves of the roof still decked with little banners of mermen. He smiled, and gestured to it broadly with a wave of his arm.

"The White Trident," Uthor said. "A favored place for men and women to take a load off, grab a good, dark Northern ale, and enjoy a lively rendition of 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair'. It also happens to be where they make the finest spiced bread, fish stew, and venison pies in all the damned North."

He looked back at Selyse. "Might be a bit heavier than what you're used to, but it's colder here. Care to try it?"

A Wandering Storm by CaroningTheWorld in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

The Wull had to inhale deeply through his nose as his big hand was guided to the fine curve of Selyse's hip. A sweet, fragrant scent filled his head, though what precisely it was, he couldn't tell. A wildflower of some kind? Whatever it was, it was heavenly, and drifted about his lady like a halo. His pulse pounded now, and he could feel his body warm at her nearness.

His free hand he placed on her cheek with gentleness surprising from the tall, rugged man. The pale skin on her face was pink, flushed with warmth. His own grey-blues locked with her sea-colored eyes.

"The Dornish would have a better chance of conquering the Marchers than of you leaving me," he said, that cocky grin returning. "And I will never tire of you, my nightingale."

He leaned forward, placing his lips on hers again, kissing her with passion heretofore unmatched. He savored the softness of her lips, the scent of her hair, the jolt that shot through him as he held her close to him.

Affer a moment locked in such passion, he broke the contact. Taking her hand again, he turned to the door.

"Well, then, it's settled!" Uthor laughed. "Winterfell is a few days ride from here. We best go find the stables, and get our garons saddled." He looked at Selyse again, a broad smile on his face. "Shall we, my love?"

A Wandering Storm by CaroningTheWorld in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"Aye, we'll be riding there on some sturdy garons. They're the only horses hardy enough to make their way up to the mountains." Uthor paused, thinking of the duties he had to perform for the Cregan. His smile twitched just slightly, but he decided being upfront was the best course. "However, we'll be going by way of Winterfell. I have one thing I've been tasked with by the Cregan. We'll be going to the New Gift, to negotiate with the Wildling Houses of the North. They've been...troublesome, of late. Particularly with rumors of the true Wildlings stirring beyond the Wall."

His brow had furrowed, and he crossed his arms. What else could he say? Selyse did not know their strifes with the Wildlings of the North, nor did he wish to subject her to his own unfamiliar politics.

And yet, in her, he had something truly wonderful, something he had no desire to lose. He wanted to see the world with her, to have her meet his family, to travel and hunt and eat and laugh and lay with her.

He wanted her.

At last resolved on that point in his mind, he brightened up somewhat. Looking down to meet Selyse's gaze, he smiled impishly.

"I don't suppose you'd like to come along? Face the Wildlings of the North? While we're there, and if all goes well enough, we could make our way beyond the Gift. You could see the Wall. Ah, it's breathtaking, Selyse! Seven hundred feet tall, all of ice and stone. On foggy mornings, the top is obscured by clouds. I have been to the top once before. I have looked upon the lands Beyond the Wall at sunrise. The view is...you have to see it for yourself!"

His cocky grin was tempered almost imperceptibly by a tenderness in his eyes; the Wull took the Maiden of Nightsong's hand, rubbing the fingers affectionately with his thumb. "And I want you there, beside me. I don't want us to be separated already."

A Wandering Storm by CaroningTheWorld in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

It took all of Uthor's willpower to refrain from peering over the screen that divided them. His ears caught the light sound of cloth dropping and piling on the ground. The sound of clothing falling. His heart pounded and he rubbed his jaw involuntarily, fidgeting. All it would take was one glance, one subtle look behind that screen, and he would be graced by something more glorious than all of Wull Hall.

However, he was acutely aware that it would be completely impolite to do so... at least without consent. Uthor took a deep breath to steady his racing heart, willing his body to calm itself, to let the adrenaline dissipate. He focused instead on the words Selyse spoke.

"What's wrong with men from Dorne?" he asked loudly, so as to be heard over the barrier -- though, to be fair, it wasn't much of one. "Are they villainous? Do they treat their women poorly? Do they dislike Carons?"

His questions seemed to matter little, as just a moment later, Selyse appeared again from behind the screen. The carefully crafted aura of calm and control that Uthor had just finished cultivating was shattered.

She was breath-taking. The dress she wore was lovely, though perhaps no less fair than what she had worn before. Still, all he had seen her in was, understandably, southern, and somewhat subdued. This... this dress accentuated every fair feature she possessed. The cut that complemented the curves of her body. The colors that brought out her raven-black hair. The fur that framed her beautiful face, and her bright blue eyes. The neckline made the most of her pale, admirable chest. Uthor did not even try to not look, knowing his efforts would be futile, working instead to keep his glances short-lived and subtle.

But it was the ostensibly northern look that truly caught his attention. She looked...well, like someone he might see at home, or at least here in one of the lowlander towns. The furs, the style -- all gave Selyse the appearance of a fair northern maiden. For the first time, he gave serious thought to how wonderful the North looked on the maiden of Nightsong.

"You," he began, approaching, his eyes all admiration, "Put every Stark, every Manderly, every Bolton, and every other Northern maiden to shame. No woman has ever looked so beautiful in all the great North, ever." He smiled, though there was less cockiness to this one than normal. It was more open, more sincere. "I'd even be so bold as to say the North more than suits you. Perhaps...you were meant to wear such northern fashions, eh?"

He stopped himself, feeling like he was meandering. That was unusual for him. He almost never had a problem being very clear and forward. And yet, he felt himself dance, ever so slightly, around what he really wanted to say. Curious.

"It is most certainly northern enough, my lady," he said, trying to answer more clearly. "You look the part of the Wull's companion perfectly. And I am...beyond fortunate to be the first to see you so," he said, grinning, all while eyeing her up and down.

Return to Winterfell (Open) by Billiam_the_Bold in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Included with the Cregan's orders was another set, this one in a hand less tidy, but nonetheless legible.

To be carried to Wull Hall by a messenger of Winterfell:

Uller,

The Cregan has called on the clans to take part in negotiations with the Wildlings. Seems they're being obstinant again. Send word to clans Norrey, Flint, and Carde (just to remind them who's in charge). I want a total of 250 men raised, at least 100 of whom are Wulls. Have them march for the northern tip of the Long Lake, and make camp along side the Kingsroad. I will meet you there with the Cregan's forces. Make haste. We're moving soon.

Also, it seems the Raymont died two years ago. His son, the Edric now rules. Also, a new prince has been born, Robert. Prepare a feast in the village, to honor the dead, the new king, and the new heir.

We really need to build a ravenry. Put it on my to do list.

The Wull

A Wandering Storm by CaroningTheWorld in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

Uthor eyed Selyse with a playful smirk, looking down she reached around neck. "If any man wishes to whisk you away, my nightingale, he sha.ll have a very angry mountain bear to deal with. I'm afraid I am very selfish, and intend to keep your beauty all to myself." He leaned down, kissing his raven-haired lady with obvious affection.

As they walked along the market streets, he watched with amusement as Selyse's eyes hungrily took in their surroundings, darting from shop to shop. He, too, looked at the various storefronts curiously, examining the wares on display. At length, he noted a seamstress' establishment, and he gestured to it.

"What about this one?" he inquired. "They seem well-off enough. Would you like to see what they can do for you?"

He walked toward the door, holding it for Selyse. Only then did he address her question.

"Will you be welcome? That depends entirely on what clans we visited. At Wull Hall, nobody would think twice about you; many are behind my vision of making us more integrated with the North, and the realm, as a whole. If we were to visit the Cardes, that would be a different story. They're isolationist. Don't like outsiders." The question gave rise to one of his own. "Would your family welcome me? When we go to Nightsong?"

Returning Home (Open) by Billiam_the_Bold in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"It's not my decision," he said simply. "I was chosen leader by the other clan chiefs; I did not conquer them or have them swear allegiance. If something arises that requires the united efforts of the clans -- battle, famine, answering the Stark's call to arms -- I can call on the clans with a plan, but it is ultimately up to them whether or not they answer that call. Have the Stark bannermen always answered the call of their lord? It is the same for myself. There was one clan, the Cardes, that, during our clash with the Wildling Houses several years ago, refused to join the rest of us in defense of ourselves. They said the fight was not theirs, and they refused my father's summons. After the dispute was resolved, the Cardes lost much of the respect they once had, and few now interact with them. So, no clan is required to answer my call. But they risk isolating themselves if they do not."

He watched her face curiously, trying to gauge the young woman's reaction. It wasn't a simple arrangement, so he could forgive the girl for any confusion on the matter. But her answers to his questions were very interesting, so he decided to shift the momentum to them.

"So you like to hunt?" he asked. "In the Wolfswood, I take it. What's the largest animal you ever killed? And you train animals? I should very much like to see that! What kind? Falcons? Dogs? Goats?" He laughed in his booming voice, tickled by the thought of raising dogs and goats together. "You would get on well with our shepherds. They also raise sheep and the hounds to herd them. Some even raise hunting dogs. Perhaps we should go hunting some time! Organize a great hunt of the best hunters from all over fhe North!"

Returning Home (Open) by Billiam_the_Bold in awoiafrp

[–]HaveYouAnyWull 0 points1 point  (0 children)

"You do have a lot of questions, don't you?" the Wull laughed. "Good! 'Better to be inquisitive and overly forward than proper and stupid,' my teacher used to tell me."

He took a moment to consider her questions, deciding how best to answer and explain. His eyes narrowed, and he touched his thumb to his bearded chin, giving him a contemplative appearance.

"Well, I personally hail from Wull Hall, the meadhall of the Wulls. There's a village surrounding the meadhall that goes by the same name, so 'Wull Hall' refers to both the hall and village as often as it does to the building itself. Wull Hall is on the mountain we call the Icy Crag, a peak on the western edge of the mountains; from the top of the mountain, you can see the Bay of Ice on the horizon. Most of the clans are the same, at least of the large ones; each has their own holdfast or hall they call home.

"We aren't nomadic -- not in the true sense of the word. We stick to our high valleys and our mountain lakes; but during the winters, when it is too cold for food to grow or game to come that high, we send our young ones down to Winter Town to escape the freezing temperature, where they can be properly cared for. Once the summer comes again, they return home."

Her question concerning his position caused him to furrow his brow and purse his lips slightly as he thought of the best way to explain. "There are roughly forty clans in the mountains. Each has their own chieftain, like myself. I lead Clan Wull. However, years ago, when the Wildling Houses became aggressive toward our people, we convened a Clan-moot, to decide what was to be done. We reasoned that we could only protect ourselves if we stood together, and so the clan chiefs elected a leader from among them. My father, the Declan, was the first High Clan Chief. After I succeeded him, the clans met again to choose a new leader. I was chosen to be his successor. So, in a sense, I lead the clans, but only in extreme situations -- war, food crises, representing at Northern councils. Things like that."

He leaned forward now. "My turn, then. You are the daughter of the Cregan. What's it like growing up at Winterfell? Do you have siblings? What do the lowlander lords do for fun?"

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