Jorah didn't waste time. The man nodded, took a training sword, and stepped in.
Wylis didn't go easy this time. He walked straight at Jorah and swung harshly, clashing the blade. He used his superior strength, making sure Jorah felt his palms go numb.
Clank!
Clank!
He exchanged blows. Jorah's greater strength made his swings and turns faster. Dacey had the same rhythm and style, but she lacked speed and strength.
Yet, Wylis was dominating entirely. He ducked sideways, away from Jorah's downward slash. That left the Bear Islander open, so he used a single hand grip and slammed the sword into Jorah's belly so hard it rang. And just then, he felt a presence behind him and sent a backward horsekick without looking.
Bam!
Jorah fell in front of him, clutching his stomach.
When Wylis looked behind, Dacey was the same. His kick had landed flat on her belly while she tried to attack him from behind. It wasn't honorable, but he didn't mind. In a real battle, you win however you can because losing meant death.
With both his opponents down, Wylis walked aside and handed the training sword back to Benjen, who was gawking at his face. Most of them were, but Eddard wasn't. Eddard had seen him at close quarters in the rebellion.
This little spar wasn't even close to that time.
"Wait!" Dacey shouted.
Wylis stopped and looked back. As a knight, he reckoned it was wrong to leave a woman on the ground like that. He walked over and gave her a hand, which she took.
"My lord, take me as your pupil. I would learn at your side. You spoke true. I can't surpass my brother in strength. I've tried, but I never can."
Wylis brushed her shoulder clean. "Aye, I know. Eat more meat, more protein, and put some strength on those bones. And focus on being quicker, not stronger."
"Teach me!" Dacey held his arm. "I've heard of you for so long, and every word was true. If you would train me, I know I can be the best of myself."
Wylis gave it a thought. She was tall and strong. She had the skill, but she needed guidance. However, he also knew that he was too busy to have another pupil. Chett alone was enough.
"I can't do that, my hands are full as it is. Now, I shall go and rest." Wylis turned and walked up to his son.
"I'll sleep with Old Nan, Dad."
Wylis halted his arms that were moving to take Magnus. "Are you sure?"
"Old Nan has lots of stories!"
"That she has." Wylis caressed his son's head one last time and bid him good night.
He nodded towards Eddard and headed to his bedchamber. Since he knew the castle like the back of his mind, he already knew where the room was.
####
With Magnus sleeping with Old Nan, the feast eaten, and challengers defeated, he retired to his bedchamber in the main keep of Winterfell.
At least it's warm.
He marveled at the engineering behind the castle. With Earthbending, he valued it even more. The castle was warm with the natural hot springs and hot water flowing through the walls in pipes.
Clank!
He removed his sword and rested it against the door's side. Then he removed his fur-cape and hung it neatly on the wall. Finally, he untied the rope hidden under his waist belt. The rope was tied in multiple turns around his waist, and with it were four pouches of gold tied near his hip. Hidden from all eyes with his cape on.
Each of them brimmed with gold coins. Keeping them on himself was the most secure place he'd come up with. No chance of it being lost or secretly snatched.
Grrrr!
He threw the rope on the dresser against the wall and walked to the side. He pressed his flat palm on the stone and used Earthbending, ripping the block out with ease. He made his own secret little safe and hid the gold in it.
Hope the Winter Town folks remember me.
The Gold had a reason. He'd brought it to sway the people of Winter Town and attract some of them to his growing city. The plan was to throw a small feast for the townsfolk, masking it under the name of their friendly giant returning.
He didn't care to think if Eddard would allow it. What he did know better than Eddard was that while Winter Town was small, it was still overpopulated. There was poverty in the town, not enough roofs to house all, and certainly not enough to feed them all.
If anything, he was doing a favor. But in the cold, harsh North, no lord would see it that way. To most lords, the more hands around the better, even if those hands mostly sat idle and starving.
Finally, he removed his heavy leather boots and prepared to slip under the quilt to sleep.
Knock! Knock!
But right when he prepared to remove his tunic, he heard knocks on the door.
He walked over to it with noiseless steps and pressed a flat palm on the stone frame of the door. He closed his eyes and sensed the vibrations through Earthbending, making out the features on the other side.
A woman?
He sighed, instantly knowing who she was based on her height. Still, he opened the door. "Lady Dacey, I said I'm not—"
Woosh!
Dacey brushed past his shoulder and walked straight into his bedchamber.
Wylis closed the doors to keep rumors at bay and turned to look at the lanky woman. Dark hair, a slim face, a defined jaw, thin lips, and serious eyes. But she was no longer in her sparring attire. Her hair was untied and draping her back and shoulders, her clothes were an ordinary dark green full-sleeved tunic, loose breeches, and boots.
Even casually, she was wearing an attire more suited for men wielding swords.
"My lord, I have not yielded, nor shall I. I won't find rest until you tell me how you foresaw my strike. Jorah held your full attention. How was it you still sensed me?"
Wylis sighed, brushing his hair and pouring himself a cup of water. But as he walked past her, he smelled perfume. Of all women, he didn't expect Dacey to use that as well. It wasn't an inexpensive thing, after all.
"My lady, you are mistaken to think he ever held my attention. You are mistaken if you think I was taking that seriously. I have faced five men at once, and more besides. In time, you learn to read the air itself. Grow eyes on the back of your head, eyes that don't see but feel."
"Then… that is all the more reason," Dacey said, stepping close, her gaze fixed on him. "You must teach me. I have held a blade since I could walk. I have done what was required of me, I danced and wore fine gowns, yet my heart has never strayed from sword and morningstar. Please, my lord."
Wylis shook his head. "There's no shortage of men who can swing steel proper. You'd do well to find another. I've no need of a second squire. I have Chett."
"But you are the Tyrant of the Trident," Dacey said, stepping nearer, her tall frame bringing her face level with his neck. Her chest mere inches away. "No warrior in all Westeros is held above you. And I don't want to be your squire. I cannot be a knight regardless."
Wylis looked down and noticed very faint freckles on her cheeks; there were very few. He never understood why men didn't find her pretty. Sure, she was lanky, quite thin, and that height didn't help. Her chest was rather flat, but as a woman, she was interesting. And her face was pretty.
"Who said that? Anyone can be a knight. I've simply not found a woman fierce enough to claim it yet. One who can meet men blade for blade. Wenda nearly did, though she was already a legend among thieves," Wylis replied earnestly.
"I can be a knight? How?"
"Not as you stand now. You're still rough, too slow, and lacking strength. My squire had iron in him before he first took up a blade. You've learned the motions, but they serve you little."
Dacey stepped closer till her chest pressed firmly against his. "That is why I ask you to teach me, my lord. I can be the fierce one. You have not known a true woman yet. I am one. I've heard of them, Ros and Anna. Pretty little things. I'm not like them, my lord."
A true frown crossed Wylis's face. "I don't look kindly on those who slight the women I hold dear. Not even in jest."
Dacey's jaw visibly tightened. "I… I didn't mean that."
"You ought to be in your chamber, my lady. It is late." Wylis suggested pressing his hands on her shoulders and pushing her away. "You're but eight and ten, you've a long life ahead."
"My lord, we aren't so far apart in years. Yet you bested three Kingsguards at once. I am ready, I'll be anything you want. I know about your… preferences. I will meet them without fear. Please, allow me to follow you. I wish to grow stronger and become the first woman knight of Westeros."
"What?" Wylis held her gaze, unblinking. "Are we talking about the same thing here?"
Dacey nodded. "Aye, about wielding swords."
"Of what kind?" Wylis asked back with a narrow gaze of suspicion.
Pat!
Dacey suddenly reached down with her right hand and cupped his manhood. Her voice dropped low, more sultry. "I can be fierce, or one of your pretty little things if you want, my lord."
Wylis didn't waste a second to respond. His one arm curled her slim waist, pulled her plush in. His other hand cupped her chin. He stepped forward, pushing Dacey back all the way until she smacked against the dresser.
"Is that a challenge, Dacey Mormont?"
"Ever tamed a bear, my lord?" Dacey asked back, smirking. "Let's see if you can tame this one."
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Advance chapters on [PATREON] are in long-form format. I have 12 long chapters of this story on P@treon. That's equal to 45-50 Webnovel chapters.
Check out Solo Dacey Mormont & Wylis X Elia NSFW art, and advance chapters at [email protected]/MrPlotThickens Or Subscribestar.adult/mrplotthickens
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