Playing the Game (Game of Thrones)

In the end, he doesn’t make the choice he makes JUST because he’s a horndog. Really. That plays a part in it, sure, but also, he has a good reason for what he does! While staying on the Wall and enduring was a good choice for the mortal men and women under his command, doing so himself alongside them would be plain negligence and dereliction of his duty.
 
Even as defensible a structure as the Wall was, the bite of Winter would still manage to take its due from the mortals using the Wall as shelter. And Jon would be a craven and a coward if he did not do everything in his considerable power to offset that eventuality and alleviate the mortal deaths that would no doubt take place just from even a small amount of contact with the elements.
 
Put bluntly, he could sit back and be perfectly safe himself and lose an ‘acceptable’ amount of his people… or he could go down there, interface with the Corpse Queen directly, and distract her with his own presence to save some lives. Yeah, really, in the end, what he was doing was objectively selfless, when you actually thought about it.
 
And so, with his mind made up, Jon descends from atop the Wall. He briefly considers having his dragons come with him, but he wouldn’t want them to face down the Night King alongside him, so why would he wish to risk them here as well? No, he tells them to take shelter as well, passing off Viserion’s egg and then making his way to where the Corpse Queen waited in her corporeal form.
 
“Corpse Queen! I would treat with you!”
 
Her head twitches in an inhuman manner, her equally monstrous eyes focusing on him and narrowing as she hisses angrily.
 
NoT cORpse QuEEn.
 
Her voice, if one could even call it that, is decidedly grating on the senses… much like the winds of winter would grate away at an unprotected human being’s flesh. Jon grimaces but nods his head in acknowledgment all the same. Obviously, Corpse Queen was something the Night King forced upon her. It was interesting, because Jon hadn’t had to be told it. Not either of their names. He’d just gazed upon them and KNOWN who and what they were, what they represented.
 
For him to look at the Corpse Queen and know her to be the Corpse Queen, but for her to reject such a name… it spoke to the demonstrable vileness of what the Night King had done to her. He’d forced the name upon her, probably right alongside the collar, and done so with such emphasis that it had become stuck, a part of her that she couldn’t get rid of.
 
“I see. Do you have a name for me to call you instead?”
 
A pause, as if she’s studying him. Then, the grating voice comes back.
 
WiNTer.
 
Of course. How could he expect anything else? Smiling softly, Jon gives a proper bow and chuckles.
 
“Very well, my Lady Winter. If it pleases you, I-!”
 
That’s when she lunges. He’s able to catch her by her wrists and spin her, but the winds that buffet the both of them a moment later are hers to command. Jon’s eyes widen, as she quite literally finds leverage in midair somehow, and manages to slam him backwards into the freshly fallen snow and then further still, into the ground. The snow around them puffs up in a large explosion and when it clears away, there is a crater there. A crater Jon lies in the center of.
 
He is not hurt… not until she extends her head forward and brings those sharp teeth down upon his shoulder, biting through his furs, through the armor he’s wearing, and into divine flesh. Jon grunts, even as his hold on her wrists proves to not be quite as solid as he might have liked. No, rather… she’s simply stronger than him, and no matter how hard he fights, she’s able to bring her long claws down upon his chest, and sink them into his muscles as well.
 
Jon grimaces, wondering if he’s made a mistake. Is this where he’s devoured, just like the Night King? Has he foolishly thrown away his life, by coming down here to try out diplomacy with Winter itself? Fool that he may be, at least he has her attention fully on him now. And if she does… consume him, it should be enough to satiate her and get her to leave the Wall all the sooner, at least.
 
Except, as he lays there, trapped beneath the inhuman Goddess, her fangs buried in his shoulder and her claws in his chest… she does not move further. She does not tear out of him as she could, does not remove whole chunks of him. It’s a bit awkward, but Jon is able to look her in the eye, to see her staring at him in turn.
 
Keeping her jaw latched firmly on his shoulder, Lady Winter pulls her claws out of his body… and rakes them down his front. But only enough to remove the pesky, pesky clothing in his way. Jon grunts as he’s bared to the harsh elements. But while any mortal man might freeze his bits off in mere moments, Jon isn’t just no longer mortal, he’s a God of Dragons. And Dragons are their own personal furnaces, one and all.
 
Jon runs hot… VERY hot, and so even with the coldest winds of winter rushing across his now naked front, his cock is still throbbing, still warm along with the rest of them. Crouching atop him as she is, Lady Winter’s claws rake along his chest, and her feet come up to wrap around his cock. Seriously? Jon can’t help but stare at the… frankly inhuman Goddess, as she begins to stroke his throbbing, hot shaft with the soles of her blue feet.
 
She’s cold, of course, but once again, he is a Dragon God. He’s more than warmth enough for the both of them, and in fact, even as icy as she is, her cold is more stimulation than anything else. A new sensation, causing him to only get harder under her ministrations. All the while, she’s still got her teeth buried in his shoulder, and still has her eyes fixated on his face.
 
“… You know, you could have just asked.”
 
Though maybe not. Maybe she didn’t see a way to ask. Maybe… maybe he was foolish for trying to ascribe any human sensibilities at all to her. She could speak, after a fashion. And she knew enough to know she hated her name. But those were probably all things forced upon her by the Night King. Which meant… this too was forced upon her by the Night King.
 
Jon grimaces at the realization of WHERE a primordial force of Winter might have learned rough, savage sex like this. The only reason it was consensual was because he was a horndog. But what the Night King had done to her… Jon assumed that very much was NOT consensual. Well, either way…
 
His hands come up and grab her hips, and Lady Winter goes still, eyes widening and teeth digging in a little harder in anticipation of some betrayal. But Jon just holds her, rubbing soothing circles into her sides with his thumbs, and stares at her with as open and welcoming an expression as he possibly can. When she sees that he’s not going to do anything more to her, she starts moving again after a moment.
 
Apparently, she’s done with her feet, because those come off of his cock. She moves her body a bit, shifting it sinuously and unnaturally down his form. Then, she finally pulls her fangs from his shoulder, without doing any more damage to him than she already had. Crouching over him, her legs bent at the knees and her feet planted on either side of him, Lady Winter lines herself up and promptly impales herself upon his cock.
 
The almost-human expression of surprise that spreads across her face as she does so takes Jon aback a little bit. His heat fills her cold sex, his throbbing member like a flickering campfire in the middle of the winter blizzard that is her icy body. No mortal would ever survive this sort of experience. But then to be fair, they likely wouldn’t even manage to make it close enough to SEE her, before her divine winds flensed their flesh from their bodies and stripped them down to their bones.
 
Not for him. For him, he got to couple with Lady Winter directly. Or, as she’d introduced herself, just Winter. Shuddering atop his cock for a brief moment, the embodiment of Winter hisses through her fangs, soaked even now in his divine blood. Then… she begins to ride him.
 
At this, Jon cannot sit idly by, no matter what she might wish of him. He is not the God of Dragons and Laying About While The Woman Does All the Work, after all. He might have been, if he’d made different decisions in his life, if he’d been a lot lazier.
 
But no, he is the God of Dragons and Freedom. He could no more deny his true nature than she could hers, and the Domain of Freedom demands… demands he MOVE. And so, Jon thrusts up, his grip on Winter’s hips tightening briefly as she gasps and her inhuman eyes flick down to him. But then he keeps doing it, fucking up into her harder and faster by the moment… and it proves to be the right call. She’s enjoying it, the feel of his warm, hot rod pushing up into her.
 
Not that he likes to think of what she no doubt experienced under the yolk of the Night King, but Jon imagines that by comparison, he’s a thousand times better than that monster ever could be. Certainly, she moans, even if it comes out sounding like a winter wail, as her cunt clenches down upon his shaft.
 
He’s half-tempted to take the reins from her, to spin them over and put her on her back so he can fuck her properly… but in truth, Jon can tell that wouldn’t be good, not for either of them. There are women in this world who want to be dominated, who want to be pushed down and fucked, and in some cases bred and kept by a handsome and powerful man such as himself.
 
Winter is not one of those women. To be fair, she is not human at all. In the end, she is a force of nature, and Jon must treat her as such. The Night King… what he’d done to her, in making her his Corpse Queen and controlling her for who knew how many thousands of years, had done enough damage. Jon refused to add to it.
 
And besides, he could do just as much from down here as he could from on top. Thrusting up into her from below, his grip on her hips tight even as she rides him hard and fast, hissing and moaning and wailing, Jon enjoys himself immensely. And the harder they go… the more intimate they become. Somehow, things go from rough and savage to almost gentle, as he finds himself sitting up.
 
Rather than turning the tables, he merely… augments the experience. They end up in the lotus position, a position Bellegere had actually shown him once upon a time. His legs are crossed, presenting a seat for Winter to take in his lap. Her ass bounces against his inner thighs as she rides his cock. Meanwhile, her own legs cross behind his waist… and her arms wrap around his neck, one forearm resting on the bite she’d made upon his shoulder.
 
Staring into her eyes, Jon… foregoes kissing her. One does not kiss Winter. They survive Winter. And so, he dips his head lower instead, to her breast, and licks and slurps at her beautiful blue chest, taking one nipple into his mouth after the other.
 
She enjoys that, Jon can tell, and so he keeps it up until he feels it… until he HEARS it. Winter throws her head back and positively screams as she climaxes upon his cock, hot with his dragon blood and throbbing inside of her. In turn, Jon grunts and thrusts up inside of her one last time before he, God that he is, pumps the Winter Goddess before him full to the brim with his seed. He fills and fills her… and likes to think he washes away the last tidbits of taint left behind by the Night King from within her in the process.
 
Of course, he doesn’t get a chance to ask how she’s feeling. As quickly as it all happens, Winter is gone. The Goddess retreats from him so fast that he barely catches a glimpse of her as she disappears to the North, flying away. If he didn’t know any better, he’d say she was embarrassed. But a Goddess like her? No, someone like her didn’t feel embarrassed.
 
Still, at the very least Jon could be sure of one thing. Winter had cum, heh.
 
-x-X-x-
 
Returning to the Wall without clothes might have been difficult, if he weren’t a God. As it is, he sees no one that he does not want to see, before reaching the place he wants to reach. Stepping inside of the room, Jon gazes at the sight before him in… mild amusement. Daenerys, his beautiful Queen, smirks as she gazes at him with lidded eyes and rosy cheeks.
 
“Hello, my King. We were just… warming up.”
 
Heh. Jon’s eyes dip down to the shapely backside in front of Daenerys, where the ‘Wildling Princess’ Val is currently on her hands and knees, eating the Mother of Dragons out. Then, his eyes dart over to the moaning, squirming form of Ygritte, the Queen Upon the Wall currently tied up in some Yi Tish silks rather expertly, from the look of things.
 
At Jon’s raised, amused brow, Daenerys happily explains.
 
“Ygritte over there challenged me to a little competition for just who would get to have your company first, when you finally got back. She seemed to think that because I have not spent quite as much time as her in these frozen lands, that I would be easy. She wanted us to see who could make the other cum first, fastest, and most frequently.”
 
Smirking, Jon’s Queen shrugs her shoulders as if to say ‘what can you do?’.
 
“Needless to say, I won. Mm, but now I wonder… should I take first go, or gift it to Val here? I heard that Ygritte declared Val would not get a proper fucking until the Dead were defeated and the White Walkers slain. But that’s been done now, hasn’t it?”
 
“Nnngh!”
 
Ygritte’s muffled denial makes Daenerys snicker. Daenerys is right after all, but clearly Ygritte didn’t want Val to get fucked in this manner. No, she probably would have preferred to be in Dany’s place, making the other Free Folk woman submit to her as her Queen before allowing Val to take Jon’s dick. Alas, it sounded like Ygritte had made her challenge and lost. And Jon… Jon was still quite hard.
 
Still, part of him just wanted to bury himself in Daenerys instead, in this moment. And from the twinkle in her eyes, he could tell that his beloved Queen, his khaleesi, his Mother of Dragons, wouldn’t mind one bit if he decided to do so. It was up to him… as it always was.

-x-X-x-

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