The Conquest of the Dragon-Wolf Cap 9

See the end of the work for notes

All characters involved are over 18 years old.

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Catelyn was preparing the final arrangements to receive the Royal contingent, they were expected to arrive at any moment and as the Lady of the Castle it was her duty to have everything ready and arranged for their arrival, she could not allow it to be said that House Stark were poor hosts.

“Be sure to put enough candles in Lord Tyrion's chambers, I hear he reads quite a bit during the nights.” She said to Maester Luwin, who walked beside her as he took note.

“I have heard that he drinks quite a bit.” The elderly maester replied with mild amusement. To which Catelyn responded with a question, raising a quizzical eyebrow.

“How much could a man of his stature drink?”

"Well, we've brought eight barrels of ale from the cellar. I think we'll find out soon enough."

"Anyway, candles. Make sure he has enough."

The two continued walking as they went over everything again to make sure they didn't forget anything, but their talk was interrupted when Catelyn let out a slight shriek as she was nearly run over by one of the Direwolve’s as it ran off on its side. Summer, if she wasn't mistaken, Bran's Direwolf.

“Gods!” She proclaimed in despair and slight amazement at the sight of the beast's size. “They do grow up fast.”

In just a couple of months they had gone from tiny puppies that had yet to open their eyes to the size of fully grown dogs. At first, she had been against the idea of her children having Direwolve’s as pets, but when she was informed that the one of the ideas of bringing them was Daemon's and that there was one for each of her children and also for her King and Queen, she knew there was nothing she could do about it. Especially with how excited her children and Lyanna herself were, Catelyn recalls how that very day she spent the entire afternoon sucking and worshipping her son's cock and balls in gratitude for bringing her such a gift.

In her own words she confessed to him that she had always dreamed of having a Direwolf as did the Kings of winter of old and now she had one and all thanks to her son. Catelyn of course as was her duty accompanied them on that memorable afternoon. Although she spent most of the time lying next to Daemon as he told her the story of how they had found the cubs. Occasionally he would play with her breasts or kiss her as he would orgasm and release his load into his mother's mouth, only for her to suck him again until his erection returned and repeat the process. No doubt she was determined to completely empty his balls using only her mouth.

Catelyn duly waited patiently for her turn; in the last few months she could not remember a night she had spent without Jon. She had practically not slept next to her husband again, now her place belonged with her King, she always had to be ready and eager to serve him. Although to be honest, it was she who was always most eager for Daemon to play with her or use her to release the stress of the day. She had even gotten Daemon to treat her in an affectionate and loving manner, only after she had shown her absolute loyalty by informing him about everything that was going on around the castle. Besides always fulfilling any wish or whim he may have. Whether as his mistress or as the Lady of Winterfell, she also remembers how not long-ago Daemon began to tell her about his increasingly intimate encounters he had with her daughter, Sansa.

And though he has assured her that he will not cross the line until Sansa is fully a woman, he has confessed to her how eager he is to take the young redhead's virginity. Even going so far as to teasingly ask her how she felt about it.

"Are you jealous of your own daughter, Cat? How does it make you feel that I will soon have a much younger and more charming version of you. I may not even have time for you anymore and will only stick with Sansa."

"I will always do my best to serve you in any way, my King. I am willing to do anything to remain your mistress, anything."

Daemon clearly looked pleased to hear such a response and Catelyn was glad for it. Though she didn't expect him to show a loving side to her, when he calmed her nerves by saying.

"What a good little slut you are, Cat. That's why I don't plan on pushing you aside, in fact I have big plans for you and Sansa. One of them is to have you both at the same time of course, I've always wanted to experience how it feels to fuck both mother and daughter at the same time. And you will help me convince Sansa, won't you?

Catelyn was obviously surprised by such a request, but this time she didn't even hesitate to answer him.

"Of course, my King. Your wishes are my command."

If Daemon wished to have them at the same time, she would fulfill his wish. Anything so that he would not take her from his side, Catelyn could not go back to how she was before, she belonged to her King now. Before she was mother, wife and Lady, her priority was to remain Daemon's whore. She could not go back to Ned's bed when she was more than welcome in Daemon's, she could not go back to sleeping with her husband when she had experienced so many orgasms with Daemon, she knew it was only a matter of time before she would be pregnant with a new child and this time, it would be Targaryen.

Though she also had to remember that she was not only Daemon's plaything, but Lyanna's as well. Though unlike her son, she preferred more to mock and humiliate her, both in private and in public. Seeing her humiliated and disregarded was one of the Winterfell she-wolf's favorite activities, but she always made sure she didn't cross a line by getting caught. Though she no doubt enjoyed pushing her to the brink, but Catelyn was certain that the only reason Lyanna restrained herself was because of her son's orders rather than the she-wolf's own restraint.

Finally, Catelyn snapped out of those thoughts when she found Bran again climbing over the walls of Winterfell, she immediately cried out in alarm and anger.

“Brandon!” Her son quickly began to descend as he found himself trapped; within seconds he reached ground level before being harshly confronted by his mother. "How many times have I told you. No climbing!"

“I was hoping to see the arrival of the King.” The boy tried to say apologetically.

“That's no excuse, young man.” Catelyn told him sternly before letting out a defeated sigh, knowing she could not stay angry for long. “Promise me, no more climbing.”

Ducking his head the little Stark boy says. “I promise.”

But she knew her sons too well and raising his gaze to meet hers, she tells him.

“You know, whenever you lie you always look down?”

“What?” The boy exclaimed in surprise.

With his anger completely gone, Catelyn tells him.

“Go inside and change, I don't want you to be all dusty by the time the King arrives.”

Preferring to change clothes rather than be scolded again, the boy ran inside under his mother's watchful eye.

“Well, where were we?” Catelyn asked the maester before continuing with the planning.

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Although, he would never confess it out loud, his hair was one of his favorite parts of his body. And he would never let anyone but his mother trim it. He was sure that if someone else did it and ruined his hair, he could kill him, but since it was his mother, he could be more considerate. Although she had never really given him a bad haircut.

“Remember not to leave it too short.”

After saying those words to her, Daemon could see through the mirror as his mother rolled her eyes before saying reassuringly.

"I know, honey. You've been telling me that since you were six. You don't trust your mother until now?"

"I trust you, but a special occasion is upon us. And I have to look my best for a Queen." Daemon told her, observing himself closely in the mirror.

Leaning over him, his mother whispered in his ear with a feigned tone of sorrow.

“I thought I was your only Queen.”

"And you are, Cersei may wear the crown and title now, but when I bend her to my will the same way I did with Lady Stark, she will be reduced to a mere concubine. A plaything for me to use and fuck whenever I feel like it and one more toy for you to torture, as long as you don't break her."

“I would never dare ruin one of your toys, sweetie.” Her mother told her as she finished leveling his hair. “Oh, and by the way, you still haven't told me how you plan to subdue Cersei Lannister.”

Daemon shrugged before answering confidently.

"I suppose I'll do the same thing I did with Catelyn. It's easy to assume that both women have very similar personalities, and are also in similar situations. Both have been stuck in the monotony of a boring marriage for years, both possess very high egos and that is something very easy to use against them. In addition to the lack of excitement in both their sexual and daily lives, meeting and sleeping with me will probably be a turning point in their lives. Although, there is also the possibility that unlike Catelyn, Cersei has already taken a lover. And if this one accompanies her north, it could be a problem."

Wrapping him in a warm, comforting embrace from behind, Lyanna whispered to her son.

"What man can compare to you, my son. If the lioness whore has already spread her legs for another man, have no doubt she will do it for you as well. Remember what I told you long ago, you can have any woman you want, never forget that."

“I have not forgotten, mother.” Daemon told her.

“Good, because I'm done with your hair.” Lyanna told him, causing him to turn his gaze to the mirror.

 Daemon examined himself and determined that he looked great. Though, to be fair, he always did. He also always preferred to have long hair and a bushy beard, but to welcome the royal visitor, he had to look much neater than usual.

“Thank you, mother.” He said to her as he stood up and wiped off the remains of his cut hair before putting his shirt back on. Turning to his mother he could see the dire wolves who were playing on one side of the room, or rather his mother's wolf, constantly pestering Ghost to play with her. She was probably the most hyperactive Direwolf in the litter, never being able to sit still and always causing some mess, but no one could say anything to her because she was Lyanna Stark's Direwolf. Except of course for Lyanna herself.

“Aurora!” her mother shouted with authority making the she-wolf stand still in place. “Quiet girl, and stop harassing Ghost.”

His Direwolf, the largest and most patient of them all, was the one who spent the most time glued to Aurora and also Nymeria, but now since Arya's Direwolf was not around, Daemon assumed she was with her owner. Watching them, he assumed it wouldn't be long before they were the size of horses considering how much they had grown in such a short time. But the Direwolve’s were not the only ones who had grown, his dragon was growing in the same way, his flames becoming more and more blazing, his fangs and claws growing sharper and sharper, his scales becoming more solidified.

Daemon knew it wouldn't be long before it grew so large that it would be almost impossible to hide in the castle. In fact, he couldn't even hide it inside his room anymore, he had to move it to another section of the castle. He didn't like the idea of doing so, but it was the only way. And besides, it was only a momentary solution, sooner or later he would have to think of something or leave Westeros before rumors began to circulate about a dragon flying over the skies of Winterfell.

But again, he was torn from his thoughts when he heard his mother, say amusedly.

"Well, now that you're handsome, clean-shaven and in a new set of clothes that will make you stand out more than the heir to Winterfell himself. Do you think you're ready to meet your new girlfriend yet?"

"I still don't know if it's a good idea to stand out so much from the rest. After all, I'm still the ‘bastard’."

"All the more reason you'll look more handsome than the prince and look more like a King than that fat, drunken Baratheon. You're everything a King should look like; everyone should see that."

"I can't say I dislike the idea, especially when the reward is a Lannister Queen eager to be fucked by a Targaryen. I really hope she's not a disappointment, I've heard thousands of stories and songs praising her beauty." Daemon said, recalling the thousands of rumors circulating in Winterfell since the King's arrival was announced.

"I've also heard that she's an uptight bitch, but to be fair, which Southern Lady she is not. But aside from all that, I think she'll live up to your expectations. And if she doesn't, you simply have to use her until she submits to you and is loyal to you. After that, you can get rid of her when she's no longer of use to us." His mother told him, to which he responded by saying.

“I love the way you think.”

Daemon was moving closer to his mother so he could share a heated kiss with her, but stopped abruptly when he felt a twinge in his connection with Frostfire, which made him let out a tired sigh and say to his mother.

“We have to go.”

“Why did something happen?” She asked somewhat worriedly to which he quickly replied.

"No, not really. It's just Arya."

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Daemon walked quickly towards the Broken Tower, his mother and their Direwolve’s following close behind, some time ago he had decided that this was the best place to hide Frostfire. The tower had been abandoned for decades, no one came to these parts, especially the higher section. He had hidden his dragon in the last and oldest room of the tallest tower in Winterfell. Finally arriving, he opened the doors and was met with exactly the sight he expected.

Arya next to her Direwolf, Nymeria, trying to feed Frostfire several pieces of meat, she would toss them to him and his dragon would roast them in the air, using his whitish flames before swallowing the meat.

“Arya!” Daemon shouted, catching his little sister's attention. “How many times have I told you not to come here alone.”

The little Stark stood up quickly and approached him before innocently saying.

“I thought he might be hungry.”

Daemon knew he couldn't really be mad at her, Arya had been there from the beginning, he was practically certain she had even spent more time with Frostfire than he had. She was probably the non-Targaryen person who had interacted the longest with a dragon in all of history, but Daemon didn't like the idea of her being so close to his dragon that much, especially without his supervision. Despite the strong bond he and his dragon shared, Daemon knew he couldn't control it completely and as much as he had commanded him to never hurt Arya, Daemon could never be too confident. Especially if he wasn't present and especially with how big he was getting.

Approaching his sister and standing next to her, he said.

"He's big enough to hunt his own food, Arya. He doesn't need you to feed him."

Arya flashed her a cute pout before telling her.

“But I've been feeding him since he was a baby.”

Tousling her hair playfully, he told her.

"He won't be a baby forever. Besides, don't you think that's a good thing? Soon he'll be big enough to be ridden."

That seemed to cheer the little Stark's spirits, for she hugged him and said hopefully.

"You'll take me to ride him with you, won't you? You promised."

Smiling at her, he tells her.

"Yes, yes I remember. I'll take you on Frostfire's back as soon as he's big enough."

The nice moment between siblings was interrupted when a horn echoed throughout Winterfell, signaling that the royal party was arriving. Separating from his sister he said to her.

“We should go, or else your mother will be angry.”

Arya quickly turned and began to run downstairs, Daemon and Lyanna following close behind.

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When they reached the courtyard, everyone was already positioned and ready to receive the King, Lyanna had stayed hidden in the castle as they had agreed. They thought it would be best for her to keep to low key as much as possible. Besides, in her own words, the less time she had to deal with Robert, the better for everyone. So, only Arya and he joined the rest of the Starks. Little Arya stood at the front of the line with her family, finding a place between Sansa and Brandon after she pushed Brandon out of the way with an intimidating, ‘move’. Daemon for his part stood second in line, between the squid and his master-at-arms Ser Arthur Dayne.

When the gates of Winterfell finally opened the first to cross through was Prince Joffrey, the boy seemed tall for his age, but other than that there was nothing impressive about him except for strutting about on his steed as if he were the King and blatantly looking Sansa up and down. The redhead sensing the look on the little shit's face, did a good job of averting her gaze as politely as possible and trying to look more embarrassed than disgusted.

He already foresaw that the King would come with more intentions than just making Lord Stark his Hand. No doubt he wanted to propose a union between their Houses, and accomplish what he could not do with Lyanna. Daemon really struggled to contain the sinister laugh at the thought of history repeating itself, the Baratheon could never have anticipated that once again a Targaryen would come before him and had already made the woman, he wished for his son his own.

Once again, the dragon stole the stag's bride.

Second through the gates was a huge man wearing a distinctive dog-shaped helmet. No doubt Daemon would have preferred him to keep the helmet closed as when he uncovered it, he revealed an even more unpleasant face, the man had a horrible burn scar which covered almost the entire left side of his face, due to the helmet and the scar it was easy to recognize, ‘Sandor Clegane, the Hound’.

Then entered several soldiers led by a man in shining golden armor, a whitish and impeccable cloak floating behind him, this man unlike the Hound, did not wear a helmet. Leaving a very handsome face showing, made up of a strong jaw, a golden mane and a very confident expression. There was no doubt that the man was Ser Jaime Lannister, the Kingslayer. He certainly looked every inch the golden lion, but Daemon saw all that mask disappear when his blue eyes fell upon the purple ones of Ser Arthur Dayne, all that pride and confidence completely gone and replaced with what appeared to be shame and guilt.

Daemon couldn't help but feel truly intrigued by that reaction, but he couldn't think more deeply about it at the moment as quickly after the Kingslayer's entrance, a huge and elegant carriage entered which most likely carried the Queen and after that finally the Usurper entered.

Daemon thought for a long time about how he would feel the moment he saw for the first time the man who ended the Targaryen dynasty, the man who killed his father, the man who was to blame for him having to grow up a bastard and his aunt having to live in exile and his brothers having to be killed. He thought he would feel anger, despise, rage, frustration and outrage, an inevitable desire to lunge at him and kill him in place, but instead, he only felt disappointment.

This man was the demon of the trident? His father had lost to this? This was the man Lord Stark spoke so highly of, the one he told all those war stories and those great feats of strength.

A man so fat that he needed help to get off his own horse, one whose belly protruded from it like a pregnant woman. The man even seemed to struggle to cross the distance to where they stood, first he approached Lord Stark, whom he was inches ahead of, looking him up and down the Baratheon said cheekily.

“You got fat.”

Lord Stark rested his gaze on the King's huge belly in a wry manner before the two men shared a friendly laugh and a brotherly embrace.

Daemon didn't like the level of fellowship Ned shared with the man. Even after knowing all that he had done to his family, it was for moments like these that Daemon didn't regret one bit that he was fucking his wife and had made her his personal whore and would soon do the same to his daughter.

After greeting his old friend, the usurper did the same to the rest of his family, kissing Cat affectionately, giving Robb a firm handshake of acknowledgement, praising Sansa's beauty and frolicking with Brandon all the way to Arya. Leaning down to match her small stature he asked her.

“And your name is?”

His sister answered him in a firm, clear voice.

“Arya.”

“You look a lot like...” The King muttered to himself before interrupting himself before finishing the sentence.

At the same time the Queen finally stepped down from her carriage, Daemon took the opportunity to observe her very closely, she had undoubtedly come dressed according to the weather, with a much thicker dress than she was surely used to wearing in the South, accompanied with a fur covering her shoulders. She was of a very similar age to Cat, a mature beauty no doubt, but I was sure she had nothing to envy to the young ladies of the South. She had whitish skin, slightly flushed by the northern weather, her eyes were a brilliant emerald green, her hair was long and golden, tied back in a single intricate braid. On top of all that, despite her thick dress I could see her curvaceous figure trying to stand out from them, her huge bust pushed against the fabric of her dress, which shrunk at her waist before widening again as it reached her captivatingly thick hips which brought out a more erotic, thick, heart-shaped ass.

The Queen as did her husband, approached Lord Stark first and extended her hand to him, Ned took it and greeted her with a kiss and a soft ‘Your Grace’, Lady Stark did the same adding a slight bow. The King again joining them, asked Ned directly.

"Where is she, Ned? Where is Lyanna? I long to see her."

But before his uncle could answer the Queen beat him to it and pointed with clear displeasure.

"We've been riding for months, my love. We need rest, I'm sure old reunions can wait."

But ignoring her completely, the King pressed again.

“Ned.”

“She preferred to rest, but she will be present during the feast.”

The King was clearly disappointed that Lyanna had not been present to greet him, but nodded in the knowledge that he might see her again soon. Daemon felt his stomach turn at the very thought of that man being near his mother, he would never have allowed it, but he knew that refusing him would only bring more questions and Lyanna assured him that she could handle him.

Turning his gaze beyond his uncle, he could see the exact moment when the usurper rested his gaze upon him, finally noticing his presence. Their eyes met in a deep stare, blue and indigo staring at each other and Daemon could see the moment the Baratheon's eyes filled with enormous fury and rage with every second he held his gaze.

“You... I killed you; I beat you; I defeated you!” The King shouted with barely contained rage drawing everyone's gaze towards them before he could control himself any longer and practically lunged towards him with murderous intent, creating a small commotion.

Fortunately, his uncle reacted in time and was able to control his old comrade in arms before the situation could get ugly.

"Robert stop, that's my son. I don't know what ghosts from the past you're seeing, but that's not who you think it is." Ned told him as he stepped between the King and Daemon.

The King's little outburst had caused several of his guards and his Kingsguard to move into attack position behind him, the same happened with the Stark soldiers, including Ser Arthur who already had one hand on the pommel of his sword, ready to be unsheathed. But fortunately, the Baratheon seemed to regain his composure as he analyzed him more deeply. Daemon also did his part and played his part.

"My name is Jon Snow, your Grace. I am the bastard son of Lord Stark."

Finally calming down, Robert released his grip on Ned and said with slight humor and annoyance.

"Bloody hells, boy. You had me confused for a second there, you look pretty much like a damned son of a bitch bastard I killed many years ago." With a motion of his hand, he command him. “Come here, get closer.”

Daemon could see out of the corner of his eye how worried Ser Arthur was about the whole situation, but Daemon gave him a reassuringly confident pat on the back, signaling him to trust him. Approaching where both men stood, Daemon stood in front of them.

"Yeah, it's been years since I've seen eyes like that. I thought I'd never get to do it again, for a second there you made me remember someone." Robert told him as he analyzed him intently, but Daemon couldn't keep quiet and answered him with utter brazenness.

“To the Dragon Prince?” His answer made everyone bristle, especially Ned, which amused him quite a bit. The Queen looked intrigued by him and also a little incredulous at his impudence, her gaze resting on her husband and just like the rest, intrigued by what his reaction would be.

The King let out a light chuckle, finding her impudence amusing before answering her.

“Yes, the Dragon Prince, Rhaegar Targaryen.”

“I've heard the story of how you defeated him a thousand times, it's one of my favorites.” Daemon answered him.

Nodding, the King tells him.

"I've heard stories of you too, Snow. In every tavern we stayed in and in the songs of the bards, how the people of the North speak of you, they say you are the greatest swordsman ever lived. Is that really true?"

Completely confident in his abilities, Daemon answers with complete assurance and pride.

“It is true.”

"Confident in your abilities, eh? You wouldn't mind if we put them to the test?" The King said defiantly, but Daemon didn't back down.

"Not at all, I'll be fighting you, your Grace? I've always wanted to face the demon of the trident."

Again, all eyes of disbelief fell on him, seeing the brazen way he spoke to the King. Even one of his royal guards drew his sword and expressed with indignation.

“How dare you boy, I'll have your tongue for that.”

But the King intervened by raising his hand and turning to stare at his guard said.

“Did I give that order?”

“No, your Grace, but the boy...” The guard tried to say awkwardly, but was again interrupted by the King as he gritted his teeth.

“Then put away your sword and don't act again unless I say so, understand?”

The royal guard quickly nodded and put his sword away again.

Having dealt with that, the King looked back to the front and said.

 “I like you Snow, which is why I hope you put on a good show for me tomorrow and that Clegane doesn't ruin that pretty face of yours.”

Having nothing more to say to him, the King turned to Lord Stark and said.

“Ned, a word.”

Quickly both men disappeared into a more private area and with them, the contingent began to spread out, Daemon did too, but not before giving the Queen a contemplative and shameless look.

Daemon couldn't believe it, he had been thinking for hours about how best to approach the Queen or get her attention, but now thanks to the usurper, he had his wife's undivided attention.

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"I have never liked this place. I will never understand why you Starks agree to this being your eternal resting place." Robert stated, before turning to him and analyzing his friend and adding. “Though sometimes I see you and I can understand it.”

Ned shows the hint of a smile at the comment as they continue walking through the crypts of Winterfell until they reached the tombs where his father and brother rested.

"Horrible thing that happened to them, they didn't deserve to die that way. Lyanna didn't deserve to suffer in such a way, seeing your bastard's eyes reminded me of him. Believe me, Ned, in my dreams, I kill him every night."

Robert told him, to which he responded by saying.

“The Targaryen’s paid for their crimes, now they're gone.”

“Not all of them...”

"A beggar prince and a girl are no threat to the Kingdom, Robert. If they're smart enough they'll live out the rest of their vina in exile and never try to return to Westeros."

“I vow to kill any Targaryen I can lay my hands on.”

The King said, to which Ned replied.

"Well, you can't get your hands on these, can you? Now enough about the Targaryen’s, tell me about Jon Arryn."

Shaking his head, Robert replied.

"One moment he was fine and the next...he was gone. I loved that man."

“We both did.” Ned added.

"He never had to teach you much, but me, ha! Remember what he was like at fourteen? All I wanted to do was crack heads and fuck girls. He taught me what was what."

“Aye.” Ned replied sarcastically, noticing this Robert told him with amusement.

“Don't look at me like that, it's not his fault I never listened.”

Both men shared a laugh before Robert turned to him and looked at him more seriously before saying.

"I need you Ned, down in Kings Landing, not here where you are of no use to anyone. Lord Eddard Stark, I would call you the Hand of the King."

Dropping to his knees, Ned replies.

“I am not worthy of such honor.”

"I'm not trying to honor you, I'm trying to get you to run my Kingdom while I eat, drink and whore my way to an early grave. Damn it, Ned get up." Robert finishes saying by patting him on the back and urging him to stand up before continuing with the rest of what he wanted to tell him. "You helped me win the iron throne, now help me keep the damn thing, we were meant to rule together. If things had been different, we would have been united by blood. Well, it's not too late, I have a son and you have a daughter, we will unite our Houses."

But the answer Lord Stark gave him was not one the King wanted to hear.

“Robert, I agree to become your Hand and serve you to the best of my ability, but I will have to refuse your offer of marriage.”

"What? Why? Your daughter would be Queen and with our Houses united, we would further solidify our alliance."

“I lost too much during the war, I can't risk losing any more.” Ned said to which Robert took great offense saying.

“You speak as if the Targaryen’s still rule the south.”

"Maybe the Targaryen’s are gone, but that doesn't mean the snakes, backstabbers and schemers are gone too. I don't want that kind of life for my daughter."

Shaking his head, Robert replied.

"I think you're making a mistake, Ned. But I won't force you to give up your daughter, it's your decision after all. I'll see you at the feast."

Watching the King leave, Ned stood in place, unsure of the fate that awaited him and the rest of his family. But there was nothing he could do about it now, he had chosen to side with his blood; to stand by Jon and betray the man he called brother and to whom he had sworn allegiance. Of one thing he was sure, the fate of Westeros would be decided in the coming months.

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Wow, it feels like it's been ages, again I'm sorry it took so long for this chapter to come out. Especially since it doesn't feel like such a good chapter, since it was more of a transition, the good stuff is coming in the next one, lots of interactions between many characters and most importantly, Cersei/Jon. So, now that I'm feeling much better, the next update should come out much faster. I hope there are no more setbacks and I hope to see you soon. Until then.