The Last Reyne

The Wild Wolf

She screamed his name as pain and pleasure resonated throughout his body. Her nails dug into his back as he felt his seed pour into her. He kissed her hard before he prepared to withdraw from her but she held onto him.

"Stay for a moment my lord." She whispered. "I want you inside me."

Brandon smirked and caressed the young woman's face. She was not hard on the eyes and her willingness and lust for him made him want to take her one more time but he disentangled himself from her. There was something missing from her. A certain kind of fire he was searching for. She held his hand.

"My lord, have I displeased you?" She looked at him, tears threatening to fall down her face.

"Not at all my lady." He started to put back his clothes on. "You've given me more than I ever asked for Barbrey."

She turned red. "My lord father would be displeased if he were to know that I have given you my maidenhead." Brandon cocked his head and laughed. The way her eyes fell when he looked at her made her implication clear. She wanted him to marry her. Such complications arise when you decide to sleep with a highborn woman. He needed to play his words carefully so as to not anger her and evade complications in matters of fealty.

"Indeed, but wouldn't he consider it an honor that his daughter was loved by a Stark?" He took her hand and kissed it gently. "Such things are not only for me to decide but my lord father's as well. But I shall not fail to mention you when he inquires on which house would merge with ours. Until then Barbrey, let this tryst of ours be our secret." He tipped her head up and kissed her gently.

"Yes my lord." She flushed with happiness but he could also detect a hint of disappointment. "Will you be back soon?"

"I'm afraid not. I've received word from Winterfell that some important matters are to be discussed." He grinned. "Such fun eh?"

She giggled. "I'll miss you Brandon... come back to me soon."

"Aye, before winter comes."

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"An engagement with a Southerner?" Brandon was taken aback by what his father said. He was brandishing the ancestral sword when he came to the weirwood. He somehow expected such a trivial topic as marriage to be brought up but with a southerner? Such a thing was unheard of, after all, the Starks have always married Houses that belonged in the North.

"You heard me boy. You are to be engaged to Lady Catelyn of House Tully. Prepare what you need, we leave for Riverrun in two days time."

"Did you not think of the consequences that may happen once the lords here in the North hear of such a thing?"

His father's cold eyes met his. "I have." He looked off into the skies as a cold breeze blew. "Winter is coming Brandon. We must do what must be done so our pack would survive, even if that means foregoing some traditions."

"Aye father. If that is what you command then I'll do it. Well then, how old is she?"

"Twelve. She's quite mature for her age and as lovely as flower that blooms at spring, or so they say."

"She'd have to get used to our cold winters then. Are you sure she won't wilt in here?"

His father smiled. "Your blood runs hot boy, the blood of the wolf runs within you. "

Brandon laughed. "Aye father. I'm sure my fire will be enough to keep the cold winds away. Grant me leave, I shall prepare what we need for our journey." His father nodded and Brandon stalked off to his room.

Catelyn Tully of Riverrun, yes, words of her beauty did reach him. So did Cersei Lannister's who was rivaled by his sister. Perhaps this southerner highborn held the fire that he was searching for. "Catelyn Tully." He whispered her name. "I hope their words ring true."