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The Shadow of Winterfell Chapter 19
🕑 Added 2025-09-27 20:30:39 +0000 UTCAshara Dayne
The halls of the Red Keep were as silent as a grave, no few torches were lit with no servants left to light them. For Ashara, it felt like the city was under siege, and in a way it was, as the City Watch worked tirelessly to find and remove what wildfire remained from Aerys’ reign.
Cersei Lannister had gone into hysterics upon learning that wildfire was hiding right under her feet, beneath the very foundations of the Red Keep, and for once Ashara couldn’t blame her. The Queen had soon fled the city with her courtly entourage, bringing her children with her, and soon the rest of the Lords and Ladies followed.
King Robert and his small council, including Ned, had left the city for the safety of the Kingswood, with the rest of the Lords heading for Duskendale or simply returning to their seats of power. Clearly Robert Baratheon, despite being a hardheaded fool, was not in any hurry to get burned alive in case any of the wildfire caches exploded. There was also the fact that the situation give him the perfect excuse to spend his days hunting as he pleased outside the city.
If anything, Ashara was the one being unreasonable by choosing to stay behind. Beneath the Red Keep sat enough barrels of wildfire that the whole castle could be incinerated in an instant if set alight. And while the City Watch was working night and day to remove the barrels, there was still the risk of one being accidentally dropped, and setting the whole thing off. That was why so many had fled the Red Keep, servants and all, fearing for their lives in case such an accident occurred.
And yet Ashara couldn’t make herself leave, even as smallfolk fled the city in fear, for it simply felt wrong to do so. So much of her life had been spent in the Red Keep, supporting Princess Elia through the marriage and pregnancy, with her departure preempting the fall of the Targaryen dynasty and the brutal death of her best friend. It felt wrong to flee the keep now, as if doing so would preempt death and destruction just like before, and so Ashara stayed.
She had dismissed her servants and maids, not wanting to risk their lives in case any of the wildfire caches exploded, opting to handle her own affairs instead. Ashara was not useless enough that she couldn’t draw her own bath and dress herself, and she was perfectly able of steering clear of trouble.
She silently walked through the keep’s halls and into the Throne Room, entering through a side entrance into one of the galleries which sat behind a grouping of pillars. It was normally crowded with Lords and Ladies spectating or trying to curry favor, but that night it was as empty as the rest of the keep.
Ashara used every trick she had learned over the years to not make a sound in that vast hall.
Baratheon and Lannister banners hung lazily overhead while the braziers below laid barren, except that Ashara noticed that not all of the flames were extinguished. At the end of the hall, where the Iron Throne lay, stood three individuals, and she hastily snuck behind a pillar before sneaking a glance their way.
Hadrian Snow, a blonde servant girl, and a dark-haired woman wearing a red dress were there. Ned’s nephew lounged casually on the Iron Throne, a serious offense that would see him flogged or even executed outright. A blonde woman that was dressed as a servant stood at his side, her hair braided while her blue eyes shined with a certain feral quality. And in front of him, and before the throne, stood who Ashara believed was a Red Priestess of all people.
What are they up to? Clearly the three were discussing something, with the two women being unquestionably loyal to Harry. Ashara wanted to learn more, to further unravel the mystery that was the Shadow of Winterfell, the same man who had every Lady in court talking, and yet she couldn’t risk getting closer.
Harry acted as Ned Stark’s eyes and ears in King’s Landing, and as such was very perceptive. Even now she risked getting spotted, despite hiding behind a thick pillar in the dark with only the moonlight that drifted through the windows as a guide.
And so Ashara quietly left the Throne Room, having observed the strange activities taking place within, and set course for her chambers. She passed unguarded chambers that held riches beyond imagining for most smallfolk, where the treasures of the Baratheon, and even Targaryen, dynasties were on full display. The Red Keep had always been about displaying wealth after all, and was used by the Targaryens after their dragons died as a way to impress the rest of the realm with their splendor.
Perhaps she should have known that within the Keep understaffed and under-guarded, that some would take advantage of the situation. And it was as Ashara turned a corner that she came across a troubling sight, being a handful of men raiding a room full of treasure.
Plates inlaid with silver and gold, forks made of Valyrian steel, and even extravagant goblets made of Myrish glass, the latter of which being items of immeasurable expense, were being hastily stuffed into bags to be hauled off.
The men were dressed like common criminals, clearly being thieves who decided to take advantage of the current situation and snuck into the Red Keep. With the guards being understaffed and overworked, it likely only took a small bribe—if even that—to get in and out unnoticed.
Her eyes widened at the scene as she turned around suddenly, realizing that it wouldn’t be good if she was caught by such men. She hastily backtracked, turning the corner and preparing to run before someone grasped her waist and pulled.
Ashara let out a harsh breathe as the wind was knocked out of her from behind, as she desperately tried to kick and elbow her attacker. Whoever it was seemed to be used to such resistance, as he slammed her against the wall before throwing her down to the floor. Her vision temporarily went to white, and the next thing she knew, he had hauled her up, pulling on her hair as he did so before pressing himself against her backside.
“Let go of me!” She shrieked.
“Damn, you’re beautiful. Must be a noblewoman.” The bandit muttered to himself as he sniffed her hair, all while she tried not to pass out from his terrible stench. His hands freely roamed over her curves, and she heard the man laugh. “I think I’ll keep you.”
“What do we have here?” The thieves who she noticed earlier seemed to catch on to her presence, as they wandered over.
“Found this one lookin’ around.” The man who restrained her answered. “Mind if I keep her, Cadwyn?”
The eyes of their leader roamed over her body lecherously, and Ashara shivered. “Heh, I don’t see why not. Just knock her out or gag her, we don’t want her screams gettin’ any unwanted attention.”
“N-No! Please don’t!” Ashara begged.
“Heh, you’ll have plenty of time to scream later, Milady.”
Is this how it ends? She had thought by staying in the Red Keep, that a disaster would be averted. That was how it usually worked, with terrible things happening to everyone but her. Elia was dead, her brother Arthur was dead, and even her own child had died upon birth. And now it seemed that the curse had finally come to her, relegated to being a slave to the men in front of her for the rest of her days.
“HISSSSSSSSS”
An unnatural, loud hissing noise erupted from everywhere around them in that moment. If her hands were free, she likely would have covered her ears, so terrifying was the noise that it shook her very bones.
Snakes, large ones, appeared from every alcove in an instant, attacking the bandits which restrained her. The men screamed, and the man holding her in place let go, allowing Ashara to slip away.
She backed up a few feet, watching in horror, before her body came to a stop.
The snakes were brutal, bringing the group of men to their knees as more and more serpents appeared and attacked from all over. Some of them were tiny, no longer than her arm as they bit the men’s toes and ankles. Others were huge, wrapping around the thieves entire bodies and squeezing them so hard that their bones broke. But the truly deadly ones went for their necks, as Ashara watched a particularly large Dornish Viper bite one of the men in the neck before slithering off.
She watched as that particular snake moved away, and then as a man in dark robes revealed himself from out of the nearby shadows, to which the snake moved up his legs and chest before curling comfortably around his neck.
She recognized him immediately. That familiar shade of dark hair, along with those green eyes that were undeniably alluring.
“HISSSSSSSSS”
One again, that same hissing sound appeared, and Ashara initially winced before realizing just who it was coming from. Harry was the one making the strange noise, and not just that—Ned’s nephew was actively talking to the snakes.
The thieves were soon dead, whether that be from strangulation or venom, as the snakes began moving and and disappeared into the depths of the Red Keep.
That just left her alone with Hadrian Snow, the man who had saved her. She had known he was dangerous, as he had killed the Mountain after all, but it seemed he was even more deadly than she initially imagined. “Lady Dayne, are you alright?”
She shakily nodded, only to notice two figures appear out of the darkness from behind Harry. That was when she recognized them as the women from earlier in the throne room, being the blonde servant woman and the red priestess.
“It is as I foresaw, my Lord.” The Red Priestess spoke first, her accent possessing a certain quality that most would find seductive. “One of your allies would be attacked this night.”
“Your foresight is proving to be invaluable, Kinvara.” Harry replied to her, before he turned to the blonde woman following him. “Val, escort Lady Dayne back to the tower, and draw a bath for her.”
/////
Robb Stark
The North is getting colder. Winter is coming. Those statements reigned ever more true as the days went by, as a harsh chill seemed to have enveloped the entire North. It certainly made his job less easier as the newly-appointed warden of the North, and Robb worked tirelessly to live up to his father’s expectations.
That said, he was grateful for Ned’s tutoring before his father journeyed south, granting Robb the skills needed to deal with his fellow Northern Lords. But the weight of such a responsibility still weighed on him, and that was without mentioning the daily petitioners and newly-arrived smallfolk arriving in Winterfell as winter got ever closer.
And just when he thought things couldn’t get any worse… they did. At least, not for Robb. Letters and newly-arrived smallfolk from the capital spoke of wildfire of all things, hidden and stashed underground by the Mad King. At first Robb didn’t understand, at least until a raven arrived from his father detailing just what was going on.
…hundreds of barrels hidden throughout the capital. Most of which sit under the Red Keep, the Sept of Baelor, and the various gates leading into the city. King Robert has ordered his court vacate the Red Keep for the time being, while Harry and the City Watch work tirelessly to find and remove what caches they find.
The fact his father and cousin had been sleeping on top of a wildfire this entire time—and that it could blow at any moment—was enough to give Robb nightmares. Even worse was the news that the Dragonpit had already been destroyed by just one cache of wildfire, reduced to a hill of rubble and ash if what his father wrote was true.
There was also the news that his bastard cousin was leading the efforts to remove the barrels of wildfire, making Robb feel both pride and a small amount of envy. Here Robb was losing sleep as he worked hard to manage the North, the burden weighing hard on him, and yet his cousin was working diligently to save the capital of Westeros and make the city safe enough for the King to return to. Damn you, Harry, why do you make everything look so effortless?
His cousin was sure to be rewarded highly for his efforts—as Robb believed was right, and that was without mentioning his impending betrothal to the Princess of Dorne.
He shook his head with a rueful grin, vowing to work harder at his duties and even go out and survey the Winter Town earlier tomorrow in the morning. It would require him to wake up earlier than usual, and yet Robb still had so much to do before he fell asleep.
“Come back to bed, Robb.” Myrcella spoke from her place in bed, calling out to him while he sat at his desk in their private quarters. “I need you…”
Maybe work can wait till tomorrow. He had a beautiful wife to please, and Robb didn’t want to leave her unsatisfied. In fact, forget waking up early.
/////
Ashara Dayne
Harry didn’t want her to remain in her quarters in the abandoned guest wing of the castle, instead having her return to the Hand’s tower with him. After that, the blonde that was his servant led her off to a separate quarters to get cleaned off, drawing a bath and doing her best to fix Ashara’s wounds. Normally she would see a Maester after such an altercation, but there were likely no Maesters left in the Red Keep.
“You’re lucky he was there.” The blonde said as she poked at one wound with a cloth, looking as if she would rather be anywhere else but there with Ashara. And now that she thought about it, she still didn’t know who the woman was.
Ashara looked at her. “You’re his servant? What’s your name?”
The woman laughed, low and amused. “Servant? No. I’m Val. He stole me.”
Ashara blinked. “Stole you?”
“That’s what we call it, north of the Wall.” The blonde answered, and Ashara stiffened at the realization that this woman was a wildling. “If a man wants a woman, he takes her. She takes him back, or she kills him, it’s simple. Harry stole me and killed the rest of my group. By our ways, that makes me his.”
Ashara winced as Val pressed the cloth harder than necessary. “You might be less rough.”
Val’s pale eyes met hers, cooly. “You might be more grateful. Most southron ladies don’t live through what you just saw.”
Ashara’s chin lifted. “I am grateful.”
“Doesn’t sound it.” Val wrung the cloth out into the basin, red water swirling. “He didn’t have to risk himself for you, wasn’t his fight.”
Ashara’s gaze drifted to the bed where her ruined outfit lay folded. “And yet he did.”
“As much as he doesn’t want to admit it, Harry has a soft spot for saving beautiful maidens.” Val’s words made her smile slightly. “But he’s not like these southron lords you’re used to. He won’t come calling with songs and flowers.”
Ashara almost laughed. “You think I expect flowers after all that?”
“I think,” Val said, dipping the cloth again. “that you should think how to repay him. He won’t ask it, but debts weigh heavy here.”
Ashara studied the wildling woman. “And what do you think I should offer, if you’re so free with your counsel?”
Val shrugged. “He’s not blind to a beautiful woman, though he pretends at being colder than the Wall.”
Ashara’s cheeks warmed. “You’re very forward.”
“North of the Wall, we don’t mince words.” Val’s eyes gleamed. “You’re staring at the boy already. Don’t pretend you’re not.”
Ashara turned her face to the door. “He saved my life, I should at least thank him.”
/////
Hadrian Snow
Perhaps he shouldn’t have been surprised when Ashara Dayne walked into his room wearing a sexy nightgown. She had only been a room over, being tended to by Val, so it made sense that she would want to speak to him before falling asleep.
They had yet to fully talk about the night’s events after all, and he wondered if that’s what Ashara came to his room to talk about. “Are you doing better, Lady Dayne?”
“I am indeed.” She replied with a smile that looked more sultry than not. He wondered the woman was simply used to giving such suggestive grins around men.
He was sitting in a chair at his desk, and watched as the Dornishwoman got closer to him, all while eyeing her curves through that nightgown. Ashara Dayne truly was a beautiful woman.
“I’ve been thinking on how to repay you.” She knelt in front of him, getting on her knees, and Harry’s eyes widened. “And so I decided on something.”
Her hands moved towards his trousers, and he felt like a virgin once again, taken by surprise. “Y-You don’t have to—”
“Yes I do.” She interrupted him, her violet gaze meeting his own, and stopping him dead in his tracks. “Are you fucking that woman? Val?”
“Yes.” He answered. “Arianne too.”
She raised a well-manicured brow. “Margaery Tyrell as well?”
He paused. “I’m surprised you figured that out.”
“I didn’t, you just confirmed it for me.”
Harry you fucking idiot. For the first time in a while he was put on the back foot, and all it took was a beautiful woman getting on her knees. He mentally decided to work on his sexual prowess as to not fall victim to such a thing again. The last thing he needed was to spill any secrets in the presence of someone like Cersei.
Ashara pulled down his trousers then, exposing his growing cock to the world. Even when it was still growing, it was still intimidating for her to look at. Harry knew he was a lot above average, as Wizards tended to have big cocks in this world, and an especially powerful wizard like himself had a cock that was truly massive.
She blinked as it rose upwards, angry and filled with blood. “Big.”
“That’s what your Princess said too.” He smugly remarked, referring to Arianne.
Ashara sent him a light glare, before going back to staring at his cock. A small, dainty hand moved to wrap around his shaft, as his girth twitched in her grasp. She opened her mouth as she guided his cockhead into it, spreading her lips wide and then wider as he entered.
His length was soon surrounded by warmth and wetness, as Harry struggled to hold back his raging arousal. There was something exciting about claiming a mature beauty like Lady Dayne, someone exquisite and known to most of the realm for how gorgeous she was.
Her tongue wrapped around him, massaging the sides of his shaft before tracing one of its beefy veins. Harry failed to restrain a groan, causing the woman to raise smug eyebrow.
“Damn your good.” He muttered.
The woman was skilled—much more so than he could have imagined. Whether it was because she was from Dorne, or simply knowledge from taking other men, Harry couldn’t say. But he appreciated the effort she was putting in nonetheless.
The Dornishwoman pulled off his cock with a pop, lapping up a string of saliva before looking up at him with a smirk. “Better than you were expecting?”
Harry couldn’t help but stare back, ensnared by her violet gaze. Never before, both in this life and his previous one, had he seen eyes like hers. “Incredible.”
“You’re too kind.” She began jacking him off as they talked. “But I’m not sure how far I can take this, at least for now, so I’ll have to finish this quickly.”
Once again, her mouth dove down to consume his shaft, swallowing his cockhead before taking him deeper.
GLUUURK
“Fuck.” Harry’s arm moved to the back of her head, grasping her hair in a fist to hold it in a ponytail as she sucked him off.
Ashara was relentless, the most beautiful woman in the 7 Kingdoms sucking him off with skill he’d never imagined possible. Her head pistoned fast, up and down his length, her plump, kissable lips stretched wide around his girth. Sometimes she delved deeper, doing so with a guttural noise that nearly made him ejaculate then and there, as she took him all the way down her throat.
One of her hands reached up to grasp his ballbag carefully then, before giving one of his bloated balls a light squeeze. That was when Harry came undone, his shaft giving a mighty jerk before his load erupted from it.
She swallowed it all, even as his load became too much to bear and it fell from the corners of her lips, all while the Dornishwoman continued to stare up at him with those haunting violet eyes.
When she was done swallowing down the last of his load she stood, giving him a seductive smirk before turning towards the door. All the while Harry couldn’t help but watch the sway of her curvy hips and the impression of her round bum as she walked out, leaving him alone in his room for the night.
Disclaimer: All Characters are over the Age of 18
A/N:
As per the results of the last poll, Ashara Dayne will be Harry’s next lover
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