Questionable Questing
Gusfes, spktr alpha replied to a thread you are watching at Questionable Questing.
[NSFW] - Bad Robot: A Transformers Multi-Cross SI

Chapter 4
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A/N: Had IRL obligations as well as completing my Team Builder CYOA and my Code Geass Quest. The clean version was posted on SB & SV two weeks ago but for your enjoyment, I've added a (clearly marked) lewd scene. Kind of scratched my head how to handle drastically different sizes but it is what it is.
Chapter 5 will be posted simultaneously across SV/SB/QQ.
Also while we won't be leaving ASOIAF anytime soon I plan to have the next arc be shorter, likely Stargate or Battlestar Galactica. Any suggestions would be nice.
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I knew by just existing that canon was derailed.
Drop a rock in a pond and there will be ripples. Being a giant flaming robotic hellhound was like dropping a boulder. I was in Westeros early enough that I was entering uncharted territory. For all, I know the King wouldn't be dying by 'accident' anytime soon and the Seven Kingdoms wasn't going to go into a civil war.
"Dull the shock" Ben reasoned, "We should go ahead of you."
"And make sure no one would be screaming at the sight of you Ser Scorch." Umber added.
Apparently, a zombie, a spear made of evil god blood, and a giant robotic arsonist were a lot to take in all at once. From the hill, I could see the growing tent city being pitched in front of Winterfell and its castle town, Winter Town, and also a crowd of people milling around.
"What do you think the kneelers are doing?" pondered Val.
"Do you want my words or what you would say?" I looked to the gathered lords, among them the most outspoken.
"Entertain your lady-wife." Umber shrugged, "I'm not some flowery southern cunt who wilts with harsh words."
I comfort myself knowing that at least it wasn't consummated.
"Kneeler bosses waiting to kiss the arse of the head Kneeler while they wait for the Chief Kneeler to kiss his arse and convince him to send fighters to The Wall."
"Kneelers." She shook her head.
I nod, "Kneelers."
"Typical wildling." Umber shook his head, "We have more than one word to insult you savages."
"Lord Umber please...." Eddard groaned.
Suddenly we hear the bellow of a northern horn and men shouting/relaying the news of their arrival.
"That is the signal." Bolton observed, "I suggest we arrive at Winterfell proper Lords."
"Aye." Karstark nodded, "It's best we get this over with."
"I bet they'll scream and shit when they see you." Val wagered.
"I would hope not." Ned grumbled as he turned to look at the assembled mixed guards, "Half of you clear a path for us and give them forewarning of Ser Scorch. The other half with us. When the time is right secure the boxes in the cellars and wait for my call to fetch them."
A smattering of 'yes lords' later Karstark, Umber, Bolton, and Stark men rode ahead into Winterfell, the others busied themselves tying our loot onto the backs of their strongest draft horses.
"I do not want them out of my sight," I tell Ned.
"It is necessary I am afraid. We must feed them ill-news gently."
As we approached people began to notice us. First Men, Andal, knight, servant, peasant all turned their eyes to look at us but their reaction was all the same; Each and every one of them was wary. Half were afraid, the other half was ready to draw weapons as if they could do anything.
Only the men that rode with us to Winterfell reacted with anything that wasn't that. Their face was neutral and stiff, slowly forming an escort around us as they led us through the tent city.
"What is that?" Val pointed to the side.
I glanced to the side and froze mid-step.
Nested behind more tents, flags, and boxes was a massive carriage. The Royal Carriage. Think of the largest, gaudiest camp trailer you have ever seen … then make it move on wood wheels and lugged around by a whole set of horses.
"That is a Wheelhouse," I whispered.
"And what is a 'Wheelhouse'?"
"A house on wheels."
"It looks stupid." She mumbled.
Not as stupid as the lady and brat who rode in it but Cersei Lannister and her son Joffrey were more known to be evil, spiteful assholes than idiots. Not by the Westerosi of course, until Robert shuffled off the mortal coil they wouldn't know how horrible those two narcissistic sociopaths would be in charge.
And they were already here. Judging by Ned's look he was just as confused as me.
"My lords." One of the Stark guards approached, "The King awaits."
I nodded and resumed walking. It was completely silent at first going from the tents to the town but I began to hear them mumbling and whispering to each other. Whether it was bad, good, or a mixture of both I couldn't say. There were so many people and enhancing hearing doesn't come with the best filter.
"It's as if they are seeing a man be brought to an execution," Karstark mumbled.
Umber snorted, "Rather that then tell them the end of the world nears."
Finally, we stood before the gates of the castle proper. Winterfell was made with the help of giants and it was tall enough to fit them. Barely. I crawled more than I walked but wasn't going to waste power or cause a panic like I did scaling The Wall.
Blocked by horses and banners I couldn't see what was going on but I could hear a familiar voice.
"Gods you got old Ned," A voice grunted.
Oddly enough it wasn't Robert's actor. Instead, it was Brian Blessed's booming voice. I was starting to think canon wasn't even there in the first place.
"Ser Scorch can you show yourself?"
Hearing Eddard call out to me I complied.
Rising out from the gate I could see the courtyard and it was just as filled with people as the rest. Here was where the Castle Servants and the actual nobles, both landed knights and ladies had congregated. Like the rest some were nervous, others expecting trouble, but there was also a new group: the greedy ones. My gut instincts told me they were watching me not because they were worried about my presence but because they wanted to see what kind of playing a piece I was in their 'game'. And among them was the Queen.
Both her and the King just walking out the Great Hall. Cersei was ridiculously attractive and looked younger than age suggested while Robert was …. fat. He had the beard of an old slob and massive weight issues that would have killed him as easily as the 'accident' in canon.
"Your Highness…"
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Even as honorable and proper as the castle's lord was, there would always be a brothel wherever men congregated. Today the Winter Town brothel was busy with many, many, many customers from far-off. King Robert among them. Tyrion Lannister was not. There would always be a brothel wherever he went and Tyrion was focused on his other favorite pursuit: knowledge.
Winterfell's Maester Luwin was his only company in the aptly named Library Tower and he watched Tyrion like a hawk. Not out of suspicion of being a dwarf for once, but because the elderly man would let no harm on his books come to pass and for good reason. The library of Winterfell was just as ancient as it's the castle. In its collection were worn rune-carved planks and slabs of wood and stone, dozens of scrolls made of rich vellum and some sort of swamp reed, and more than enough books to keep him satisfied.
"Should you be enjoying what Winterfell has to offer Lord Tyrion?" Luwin asked.
"Women are for later. Words are for now." Tyrion quipped, "There will always be another whore house but there are too few libraries."
"Not my words but I see your thinking, Lord Tyrion." Luwin acknowledged, "Although I do not see why you have so many books pulled from the shelves."
The stack next to Tyrion was near thrice the height of the very short man.
"I am looking."
"If I may ask: for what?"
"Myths and legends."
Luwin grimaced, "So you heard the rumors. Do you believe them?"
"Don't you? Lord Stark IS your lord."
"Indeed Young Ned is my lord." the Maester nodded, "And the First Ranger is his brother."
"But you doubt him."
"I believe that my Lord believes something is amiss and the ravens from the Wall and others tell that there is." Luwin grasped the chain around his neck, each link representing one mastery of a subject, "You will see that I have a link of Valyrian steel."
"The one for magic." Tyrion observed, "Well. What does a Maester who forged his chain say?"
"Caution."
"No fun in that." Lannister shrugged, "and it helps to be prepared Maester Luwin. Now, wherein the Seven Hells do you put your books of superstitious nonsense?"
"If you must know." Luwin answered, "In my study."
"And where is your study?"
"In my tower."
"And where is your tower?"
"Closed behind a lock of my own personal make." the Maester explained, "They may be books of superstitious nonsense but they are still prized possessions."
"...And?"
"...So far nothing." Luwin replied glum, "There is no denying some manner of great creature rides with Lord Stark but every treatise I have read tells nothing of giant shapeshifters of fire and steel."
"Then I shall write one!" Tyrion exclaimed, "The Steel-Fire Wolf by Tyrion Lannister, Dwarf-Lord of Casterly Rock. Just one of many lasting memories I shall leave Westeros … besides the number of women I fucked."
The Maester coughed, "Must you?"
"Every Lord must have a legacy." the Lannister shrugged.
His sister was the Queen who would help found a new dynasty while his brother was one of the Kingsguard, the highest station any Knight could aspire to be. He would have the ancestral home but that wasn't enough. Never enough.
"Once my father passes I will be lord of Casterly Rock and Lord-Paramount of the Westerlands. I think besides putting some work done on my future holdings I would have something else added to my name."
"Being a good lord is good enough."
"It worked well with Lord Stark, yes." Lannister admitted, "But when you are shorter than most men you need to aim higher."
Suddenly a horn bellowed and was followed by shouting. Relayed from post to post the guards shouted out that Lord Stark and the party had finally arrived.
"Speaking of aim, it seems my calculations were correct." Luwin concluded, "He HAS arrived today as I expected."
Together they trundled down the stairs and where outside they could see people of all stripes move toward Lord Stark's general direction of arrival. Reaching the door they by chance ran into King Robert, somewhat disheveled and smelling of … exertions. Besides the King, Jaime and the other Kingsguard tried to hide their scrunched noses
"'Bout fucking time," Robert grumbled.
"Wasn't that what you were already doing your grace?"
"Bah!" Robert scoffed, "Always trying to show off your wit Imp."
"It is what I am known for." Lannister shrugged.
"Your grace" Luwin spoke up, "Lord Stark will likely want to speak with you quick-"
"Aye, Maester" The king waved off, "Go tell the other lords to gather in the hall. Tell them I said so. I'll fetch Ned myself."
"It seems that he is coming to us instead. But I will have Winterfells' staff to inform the lords."
Luwin was not an errand boy but as the king says, the king's subjects do.
"Now it's time Ned explains all this I hear about snarks and grumpkins..." Robert mulled.
With that said they moved further into the courtyard and for a man of his age and weight, Robert was quick to reach his old friend and the future Lord of Casterly Rock for once struggled to keep pace with his short legs.
They stopped in front of the gate to see the Queen there aloof but present, along aside the Stark family, and many other assembled servants and highborn. Out from the gate and on a horse were a tall, stone-faced man in grey and grim furs. He was stark in both House and in presence. Still, Lord Stark gave an air of relief at finally being home and had a thin smile looking at his gathered family.
On seeing the King, Eddard and company moved to fall to his knee and only stopped by Robert holding his hand out for them to stop.
"Gods you got old Ned," Robert observed.
"And you've gotten fat," Eddard replied.
Insulting most kings was one of the easiest forms of suicide. Fortunately, Robert wasn't like most kings. His response was to grin and laugh.
"Ned!" His voice boomed, suddenly grasping his friend in a bear hug, " It has been too long!"
"It has been some seasons, your grace."
"Bah! Call me Robert." he exclaimed with one arm over Ned's shoulder, "For once I'd like someone to not say that I'm not king."
"You are King … my king."
Robert groaned, "And they say you are as humorless as my brother Stannis."
"I've learned many things when we were fostered with Lord Arryn. You as well."
"Aye." the king looked wistful, "A good man and a good father..."
"..."
"Well! Now with that done, we should be having a drink! Lumpy!" he shouted to his squire, "LUMPY! Where are you!?"
"My cousin Lancel is sick, your grace." Tyrion pointed out, "You had him be your food taster for the Riverland Eel Pie."
"It's just the shits."
"To put it lightly." he winced, "And there is also the matter of the 'rumors'."
"The rumors." The King mulled, "Right. Ned, Benjen, and …" Robert glanced between Lords Karstark, Bolton, and Umber, "...Lords. We need to talk."
"Aye, we do your grace." Umber nodded, joined by the other two.
With all of them in agreement the gathered Lords shuffled toward the inner keep and all this time the King spoke animatedly with Eddard, talking about memories made in their time with Lord Arryn and the two wars that they fought together.
"I am surprised that you have arrived so early. Even if the Kingsroad is better paved I thought it would be another week before your arrival."
"I took a boat." Robert brushed off, "If Old Jon was still here he would be in my ear shouting why in the world would I pay for a small fleet's worth of cogs and carracks to bring us here."
"He would. All coin must come from somewhere."
"I am King." Robert boasted, "And coin comes to me. We were lucky as well. The winds were strong from south to north. It was as if the very gods themselves wanted me in Winterfell as soon as possible!"
"Perhaps." Stark answered at the steps of The Great Hall, "Winter is coming."
"We'll see Ned. We'll see. Now, where is that magic wolf the smallfolk have been blabbering about!?"
Eddard grimly nodded, "Ser Scorch."
When the King asked for evidence they expected something; just not what Eddard specifically claimed. Eddard's retinue parted in two and from the darkness of the gate the court of King Robert saw four glowing red eyes and a massive thing emerging into the light.
"By the seven!"
"Seven hells...."
"Gods be good."
Fuck he was big. Tyrion realized. Bigger than the giant Gregor Clegane and even actual giants. As Eddard claimed, Ser Scorch was a great wolf made of fire and steel, larger than any Dire Wolf. Cersei was to the side and this time she did not get over her shock. Her eyes were wide and fearful as much as anyone else's. The Queen could not mask it and clutched their brother's arm for security.
"Your Highness." It muttered, the words causing many in the crowd to flinch.
"By the gods, you talk also!" Robert exclaimed.
"I can. I am Scorch and The Gods told me to warn you of The Others."
"Fuck that," the king huffed, "Your convincing already. We have more important business."
"What else?"
"Drink." Robert grinned, "It's about damn time we get a fucking drink with today."
His response was a mess of nods and grumbles of agreement from the various lords. Eddard shook his head and whispered to the nearest servant; likely to get Northern mead from the cellars. The King was going to drink Winterfell dry sooner rather than later.
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The Great Hall of Winterfell accommodated Scorch, if barely. Seeing the creature Tyrion could see why it was theorized that Giants had helped construct Winterfell. The doors as tall as some walls made sense as did the floor made of large carved stone slabs that could accommodate the weight.
Even so, the 'Transformer' was stuck wedged between the tables, servants, and the odd pillar.
At the head of the table was Robert, to the left was Lord Eddard and the First Ranger, to the right sitting there for the sake of being there was Cersei who looked ready to fill their ears with noise.
The rest of the gathered members were lords sitting at tables and various guards and servants standing on the wings; among them Tyrion, Luwin, and the lady Val, Scorch's Lady-Wife. The exact details of their marriage were only alluded to. At least the Shapeshifter had good taste. More than one man, he and the king included were imagining what she looked like without her furs.
The story was strange enough without it coming from the mouth of a giant, fire-breathing shapeshifter and also a man known by many as Honorable or Honest Ned.
The Long Night returning? Across the Great Hall, the Lords of the North and those who had followed Robert from the south were skeptical. That wasn't even mentioning the looks of the Maester and the dozens of different guards among their charges. Tyrion only glanced at his brother and the other two Kingsguard to tell they were fine with just standing there and looking knightly.
The first to say something was Lord Wyman Manderly. The old, portly man ruled the North's port city of White Harbor and the money and influence to throw around.
"It is hard to believe." said Lord Manderly, "And I speak for many Lord Stark. That if not for your Brother and Ser Scorch testifying I would think this is a delusion."
"I have fought them." replied Benjen, "I have nearly died had it not been for Ser Scorch and his spells."
"House Manderly has always been loyal to House Stark since they accepted my forefathers years ago. You will always have my support but the men who swear an oath to me will need to be convinced as well. No offense Scorch." he pointedly looked to the giant metal wolf.
"None taken Lord Manderly." the creature replied.
Lord Stark gestured to his servants and they opened the door for a mixed guard of Stark men alongside men from the other three houses that came with Eddard. With them were two boxes gently placed in the middle of the room.
"More proof Lord Manderly." Eddard explained, "I wished we did not need to bring it out but you are correct more proof is better than less."
Suddenly one began to violently shake while the other, seemingly in response, began to seethe an eerie purple light from the cracks.
"Gods be good." Luwin gasped.
"Some sort of trick," whispered Lord Manderly.
"If anything a magic trick." Greatjon grumbled, "Your Grace, Lords, Lord Stark and the Night's Watch speaks the truth. THAT is a Wight and right next to it is a weapon of the White Walkers."
Robert's brows furrowed and against the pleas of his guards, stood up and walked over to the boxes. He stared at the Wights's container for a time and then finally spoke.
"...open it."
Tyrion's brother was the first to speak out, "Your grace-"
"Open. It. Your King commands it."
The guards looked to Stark and Stark looked back. After a moment's pause, he closed his eyes, "Open it."
"...yes…lord." the lead guard said hesitantly.
One by one the ropes and chains were removed from the box until finally, IT burst free. It was a corpse of a long-dead, long rotted man; and it was moving. The snarling abomination thrashed in its restraints. Even if parts of its body were burnt, mauled, and for two limbs reduced to stumps it continued to screech and try all in its power to grasp at a new victim. Only the last few chains held it back from murdering Robert but Robert still remained unfazed.
No one else reacted that well. The Wight's minders already had their weapons pointed at the Wight and the various lords and knights had stumbled and shouted back in shock, some not even thinking about grabbing their swords and too stuck gawking at it.
"Y-Your Grace-" Tyrion's brother interjected again.
Robert held his hand out and approached the Wight unafraid of the horror. He stood no more than five steps away and looked as it turned its inhuman gaze on the king.
"So this is a creature from legend." He grunted, "hmph."
"Your Grace." Eddard warned, " I do not think it is safe to-"
"Not now Ned." He waved him off, "I've seen death in the eye more than once and one rotten cunt trying to rip me limb from limb is the same as any living cunt."
Suddenly they heard a snapping and cracking noise and the entire room saw the corpse break its bones …. and slip out its restraints. The Wight had broken free. As a creature possessed it rushed toward the closest object with claws and teeth ready to rip out a man's throat. Robert's throat to be specific.
"KING ROBERT-"
Time stilled as lords and guards lunged forward in vain hopes of stopping a kingslaying.
But of all the things Tyrion expected, he didn't expect Robert to headbutt the Wight. With a loud crack, the animated corpse crashed into the earth now sporting a partially shattered skull. Robert was not worse for wear; except his crown was dented in a way that would make jewelers and smiths wince.
"Seven hells he's an ugly fucker." Robert spat on the corpse, "Probably was when he was still living. I trust you Ned and this rotting bastard is proof why I do."
The Wight continued to impotently twitch on the floor as the various lords crowded around it. Tyrion included. There was no denying that this was a corpse raised from its rest.
"A second Long Night."
"Impossible."
"We must pray to the Seven."
"Pray? I will be busy getting my daughters across the Narrow Sea."
"Piss on that! we fight them just like the Wildlings!"
The assembled lords argued amongst themselves. Some in denial, some ready to run, some prepared to fight. His brother was the uncertain fourth group.
The Kingsguard turned to Tyrion, "What do you think?"
Cersei had jumped in fright just like the test of them. But while the gathered Lords were crowded around the Wight the Queen remained at her seat, quietly conversing with the other two Kingsguard.
"Ser Trant and Ser Blount are more Cersei's creatures than Lannister's."
"Our dear sister cannot be that blind to this."
"Not blind Jaime. Only directed toward her own purposes. Keep her focused."
"And towards what?"
"That whatever she does, doesn't get us all killed. Or worse."
"Someone get me a map! Robert finally barked, "and someone move that damn corpse somewhere it doesn't stink!"
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The basics of basic plans were made. Men to be levied or at least made 'aware', routes for supplies written out, ships cataloged should there be a need to evacuate or to ferry troops and provisions. The gathered lords poured over the map with Robert's long-unused military mind showing signs it was still there.
"My Brother Stannis sits on a damn volcano. He is my Master of Ships and I can see enough Dragonglass being sent north for the Others to choke on it."
"White Harbo will always have its docks open. And your other Brother? What of Lord Renly?"
"Renly is squiring that Tyrell boy. The Reach will have the knights and grain. Kingslayer!" He shouted to Jaime, "Do you know if we have Westerland gold!?"
"He does not offer gold for nonsense-" Cersei interjected.
"-You will need to ask my father, your grace." The Kingsguard replied succinctly.
Tyrion shook his head. More than enough was borrowed by the crown. Jon Arryn would be turning in his grave … hopefully not literally. The war would be lost before it even began.
"Your map is shit."
Among the voices Lady Val raised hers.
"You insult your king!?" Ser Blount shouted in outrage.
"I'm no Kneeler." Val hissed, "I am one of the Free Folk and I know your map is shit because I live, breathe, and shit where you drew wrong."
The Kingsguard scowled, "And who are you to say it Wildling-"
Scorch finally spoke, he stared and growled at the Kingsguard and Ser Blount finally realized he had taken a step too far, "My Lady-Wife Val is the Goodsister of Mance Rayder, the King-Beyond-the-Wall. He leads them south because of The White Walkers. Either you offer refuge or we face thousands of desperate men and women and THEN the Others who may just as well raise them to fight you again."
His gaze swept back to King Robert, "Lord Stark and Lord-Commander Mormont are willing to hear them out. Will His Grace and the other lords of The North say the same?"
"They are savages, my husband." Cersei intervened, "One of them wed herself to an animal."
Val only rolled her eyes to Cersei's annoyance.
"Enough woman!" Robert snapped back, "Your prodding does not help!"
"That so-called Wildling King is no real king." She continued, "They are barbarians with no laws or lords."
"They have rules and leaders like anyone else in Westeros or Essos." Scorch cut in, "There are also the Thenns."
"We known of them but they rarely approach The Wall, unlike others." Replied Benjen, "They keep to their valley."
"They have a Magnar, their King, with Lords, and Laws." Scorch explained, "They are fierce fighters but also better organized and equipped."
"So an actual King north of the Wall? With his own Kingdom..."
"....And with a son of marrying age."
Some lords' attention perked up in interest. Some had daughters and nieces to spare Tyrion suspected and a King was still a King no matter their origins.
"They are close to Kneelers as much as Free Folk can be. Also one of the larger ones" Val admitted, "Mance has been trying to get them to his side for a long time."
"Perhaps he will." Bolton mulled, "Your Grace, Lord Stark, I am willing to accept Wild-Free Folk into my lands."
"You must be joking Lord Bolton." Umber chided.
"I am not." Bolton reaffirmed, "Like what Ser Scorch said I would rather not face so many enemies unless we need to. We are the north. We must be pragmatic unlike the flowers of the south."
Robert snorted, "As one of those flowers of the south I fucking agree."
Talks and negotiations continued until finally the gathered highborn had enough of strategizing and the whole affair was put aside for the next day. Lord Stark wanted to see his family after being cooped up in the great hall for hours, Robert was the opposite.
Cersei dragged Jaime to the side for something (or was it the other way around?) and whispered harshly…. But he could see the other two Kingsguard follow the Stark men that were carting away the boxes.
His eyes narrowed. Sometimes a man, or at least half a man, had to do things himself. Tyrion watched them step into a chamber and no one bothers looking down to see the man known as 'The Imp' was following right behind them.
[hr][/hr]
That went better than expected. Except for Cersei maybe. I think she just wanted to play Miss Contrarian and tick Robbert off. Or get some political leverage (somehow). Or both.
At least the wind so far was blowing in our direction as we left the Great Hall.
Tonight was going to be a big feast with me and Stark being the guests of honor. Technically Robert was but I'd like to keep on his good side until we at least offed The Night King. For now, at least we were outside of Winterfell. Val disliked how cramped and busy the castle and Winter Town was and I agreed with her.
The both of us sat by a warm fire and next to a large pool. It wasn't on any map. It was just a deep enough ditch that water from a nameless stream fed in and out of.
"That Wight has every bone snapped in its body," Val explained. "wrapped in chains, and shoved in a pit with Stark's men watching it. And the spear also."
"I still don't think it was a good idea."
"Scorch." She rolled her eyes, "Who would be stupid enough to mess with them?"
"You are tempting fate."
"Says the shapeshifting warrior sent by the gods."
"Tempting. Fate."
Val shook her head, "I am taking a bath. I've been smelling like shit since we got past The Wall and I'm not going to let some Kneelers peek on me."
"I'm sitting right here."
"You are my husband. Now are you going to wash the shit off of you also or am I the only one going to smell like mint and pine?"
"...I should have asked for soap…"
"You mean polish?"
"That too."
[hr][/hr]
-NSFW START-
Val flinched as she slid into the pool. The water here was still cold despite being south of The Wall.
"I thought it would be warmer." Val grimaced.
She heard a hiss of boiling water and her head turned to see the 'robot' form of Scorch standing above her with the water only going as high as just below his knees.
"Not deep enough..." the giant noticed.
The Spear-Wife watched his body contort and shift, changing from something close to human into a bestial form. The now wolf-again machine dipped into the water, sinking in deep enough that she could only see his eyes when Scorch crouched.
Around her, the pool warmed as the Transformer's ambient heat radiated out from his frame. She sighed as the hot water washed over her body. It had been a long time that she had a warm bath. A warm bath needed a hot spring, already fought over for its constant warmth; or a fire and a tub, in the sparse land beyond the wall it was a luxury only the large clans like the Thenns could afford.
Val sank into the water, "If we were back at home women would be lining up to fuck you for this."
"For just hot water?"
"Yes. If one of the Free Folk want something they have to get it themselves."
More than enough men wanted to fuck her. A few women also. She wasn't some special flower like how a few Kneelers saw her, but she had tastes.
...And right now she was thinking about more exotic flavors. Val wasn't the ideal that the Kneelers wanted. She wasn't soft. Her face may have been but her body was lean and toned from surviving a harsh eternal winter. She didn't have the round curves of soft ladies, just a frame as chiseled as it was feminine.
Still, looking at the prick that Scorch tried so hard to hide, she wondered if she could fit.
"You want me don't you?" she asked.
"...I try not to." he shrugged, "It wouldn't work."
Val snorted, "That's for me to decide."
"What are you-"
Whatever Scorch was going to say died in his throat, because Val was stuffing hers. She had slipped between the giant's legs … and saw the biggest prick she had ever seen. It was hidden away because it wasn't in use. Now it was. Now her lips wrapped around it, tasting his metallic seed at the tip.
And Val wanted more. Her hands glided up and down his girth trying to shove metal dog meat down her mouth. She felt her body warm more than the water ever could and something else dripping between her legs. She couldn't stop. She wouldn't stop. Val nearly choked as Scorch shifted and actually hardened. The rod she was devouring only grew harder and more firm.
Her machine lover grunted and suddenly she was actually choking. The natural reaction of her body was to gag and choke but Val ignored it. She drank him like a straw, every last drop but it wasn't enough. Not for him or her.
Suddenly Val was flipped over onto all fours. Disoriented, she looked behind and widened her eyes at the sigh of a cock bigger than any beast should have; and it was lined up with her.
"W-wait." she stammered, "I-it won't fit!"
It did.
Every part of a Transformer could transform … and it fit her just right. Val gasped and whipped her head back as slid snug insider her cunt. She screamed half in pain, half in pleasure as her body struggled to take in his rod. And it wasn't going to be easier.
Pinned, the Free Folk woman was forced to endure the raw bestial urges of an animal five times her size. Val was rutted like a bitch in heat. Unable to move, unable to resist, only able to cry and scream every time his 'spear' pistoned in and out of the Spear-Wife.
She came at some point; her back arched as lighting ran through her nerves.
Cum dripped from her abused velvet and then it was a stream as Scorch's massive member slid out of her. Val hit the water still quivering from her pounding.
"F-fuck….," Val stammered, "W-we actually-"
The Free Folk woman looked up at her machine-lover's eyes, she realized they were not done. Val did what any good little slut would do: present herself. She raised her ass up, presenting to her master her drenched slit.
"Fuck me." she begged, "Just fuck me. Breed me. BREAK me."
Scorch took that invitation. And her ass. Val would shout back if she wasn't a mess. By now her body was ruined for other men. Nothing else but dog-machine-dick could satisfy her.
Soft-metal slapped against flesh and it did not stop. Hours of straight-on doggy-style switching between anal and vaginal with her cumming every so often. Only distance and the noise of a festive Winterfell kept anyone noticing her primal shrieking.
Suddenly she heard her lover grunt, "Val…"
"S-scorch!?" she gasped, "W-wha-"
She felt something warm and molten well-up inside her and her insides tightening around Scorch's cock. Seed. Scorch came and so did Val. They howled, Alpha-and-Bitch, Master-and-Servant, Husband-and-Wife, Lovers in a union.
Finally, Val went limp, reduced to a sleeve from ecstasy and exhaustion. She was no longer a Spear-Wife. She was just a Speared Wife, impaled and knotted on a beast's shaft. There was nowhere else Val would rather be.
-NSFW END-
[hr][/hr]
Queen Cersei may have chosen them. They may be loyal Lannister men, but they still had to have something to justify their induction into the Kingsguard. Boros Blount and Meryn Trant at least had enough skill to be discreet when the queen asked for it.
They stood in one of Winterfell's old storerooms. It was out of sight and tucked into a corner but its walls were thick layers of granite brick and the door was made of equal amounts of wood and metal reinforcement. There were guards posted in the halls and rooms around the obscured room but the two knights only needed a few moments to see what really was inside the boxes.
"It's a moving corpse alright," Blount grunted, shoving the struggling cadaver back down into the box.
"And the weapon is real also." Trant raised his dagger, now missing a since-shattered blade.
"The Beast was correct."
"..."
"Trant?"
Meryn stared at the spear and did not once look away from it..
"..."
"....Trant?"
"..."
"Trant!"
"W-what?" Meryn blinked and then winced.
The Kingsguard stared at his hand and saw he had cut his finger with a drop of blood even staining the White Walker spear with a red dot.
"Idiot." Boros snarled, "You fucking cut yourself."
"It's a scratch." Meryn hissed, "Nothing else-"
"-Are you done yet?"
The Kingsguard reached for their swords, whipping behind only to see empty-air.
"Look down."
"Imp!" Blount snarled.
"Lord Tyrion." Tyrion corrected.
"How did you get past the guards!?"
"I am very short and not taken seriously." Tyrion crossed his arms, "and I wonder how and why you two good knights of the Kingsguard are where they do not belong."
"Fuck off Imp. This is Royal Business."
"My dear sister's maybe but not The Crown's. I COULD ask the King about what two of his trusted protectors are doing sneaking around Winterfell while under Guest Rights…. Or we could all just get shit-faced drunk on my coin. "
"We have proof." Trant pointed out, "That should be enough for the queen."
"Good. Then put everything away before the Starks find Lannisters where they don't belong."
"Aye Imp." Blount grumbled, "You do it Trant."
"Boros-" Meryn scowled.
"Just get it done with." Tyrion rolled his eyes, "We do not pay you for nothing"
A Kingsguard and a Lannister left the room and Ser Trant followed minutes after. He didn't notice that he didn't put the Wight back in chains or that he put the Other spear in the same box as the undead revenant. He didn't notice and didn't care as he closed the door behind him. The sound of the thrashing and screaming Wight seemed louder to Trant than he remembered but the Kingsguard shrugged. He doubted anything terrible would happen.
[hr][/hr]
I woke up to the sound of horns. My head snapped up to dozens of horns of alarm and the sound of screaming in Winterfell's directions. No... By The Allspark no….
Without a word being said we rushed back to Winterfell. And just outside of Winter Town I could see people running in panic and soldiers of all the different Houses rushing into the castle.
"I have …. regrets …"
"Regret later!" Val shouted, "You have to stop it! Whatever the fuck that is!"
I looked at my grenade launcher. Too risky. My weapons were in no way subtle or discrete. Hand-to-hand it was and I chose to take a more optimal form.
*TSCHE-CHU-CHU-CHU-TSCHE*
Not many people knew I could transform. Most only knew I was a shapeshifter. Thankfully when I assumed robot mode they didn't panic, instead, it was a surprise, shock, maybe even a little awe.
"Get out of here!!" I shout, "GO!"
They ran except the guards stayed and stared.
"S-ser Scorch!" One of the Baratheon guards stammered, "w-what do we do!?"
Suddenly I could hear the loudest, most inhuman screech possible and something climbing over the wall. It hit the earth, covered in blood and arrows, and looked up at me with two glowing purple eyes.
"...run…"
That … was the Wight that I hauled to Winterfell. Once. Now it was something worse. Lanky, emaciated, and with long sets of claws and teeth. It was thin but now nearly as tall as me. The closest I could describe it as a Wendigo. Except this one had a lot more Dark Energon jutting out its spine. In fact, it looked like the crystal was growing and assimilating it. Then it spoke.
"SpAwN oF pRiMuS…."
"RUN!"
They couldn't stop him. Only I could. I ran at it, claws ready to tear it limb from limb. It was going to try to do the same to me.View This ThreadUnread Watched Threads
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[NSFW] - Bad Robot: A Transformers Multi-Cross SI

Chapter 5: The Wendigo
A/N: I am kind of leery on this chapter but I felt it good to release it rather than start from scratch.
[hr][/hr]
Jon Snow was the oldest. His brother Robb was second. Then came his sisters Sansa and Arya and finally his youngest brothers Bran and Rickon. He was also the only bastard of the bunch, Eddard Stark's only transgression outside of Lady Catelyn. Sometimes he was reminded of it far too much. Both Jon and Rob stood outside the Great Hall while inside the people of the North would gather for tonight's meal.
"I tried." Robb admitted, "You'll have to wait with the smallfolk."
"For scraps." Jon sighed.
"Highborn get first pickings of any feast." Robb admitted, "The Queen didn't want ... natural born to spoil a meal. I would protest but her Grace is the Grace and mother-"
"Lady Catelyn agrees." Snow shook his head, "It's fine." It was not, "I'll do something else in the meantime."
"Maybe find Ser Scorch." his half-brother suggested, "Arya and Bran are dying to meet him. Theon-"
Jon groaned, "-Wants to bed Lady Val. I wager you as well."
"I am not stupid." Robb shrugged, "Only one of those Dornish would try and bed a woman with a husband like THAT; besides I have my honor also. Just like Father."
"Lord Eddard," Robb winced but Jon continued, "trusts Scorch. If something can scare a creature from legend then I can trust what both of them say."
"...Jon-"
"-I know what you are going to say." he said, "But I made up my mind already."
It was why Jon Snow was going to look for his uncle. His half-brother didn't respond, only closing his eyes and putting his hand on Jon's shoulder. That was one brother down, another four siblings to go. As the festivities began he and Robb parted ways. Robb to sit with his family at the King's table, Jon to search for Uncle Benjen.
Minutes later he found his uncle in one of the quieter hallways but the moment Uncle Ben saw Jon the ranger already had an answer, "The answer is no."
"But Uncle Ben-"
"The Others are real." Benjen stated, "I've fought them and they are as dangerous as the legends say."
Jon knew and Jon was ready, "You will need every sword arm then."
"Which is why the King is involved and we are calling our Banners. One more sword will not matter Jon. Your father vowed to protect you."
"I am not a child anymore and I am a bastard." Jon shook his head, "I cannot be under Fa-Lord Eddard's protection for all my life and I have nothing else."
"You have your family." the Black Brother answered with finality, "Lady Catelyn may not care for you but I do, your brothers, your sisters, your father does. And I am saying this as your uncle AND as First Ranger: no. Now leave me be. I need to-"
"Need to ....what...?"
They froze as they saw the sight before them. At their feet were two of the three Kingsguard. Dead. And half-eaten. Jon struggled to not retch at the sight but Benjen kneeled down like an expert tracker.
"The bite marks aren't any that I have seen before. Almost like a man's bite but there are more teeth than any one man could have. And they are larger as well."
Jon drew his sword, "We need to alert the guards!"
"It is not a giant and I see no reason or way Scorch could-" suddenly Benjen froze and began to rush ahead.
"Uncle!"
Jon followed him and as he did he saw dead guards, Stark, Baratheon, even some of the men who followed with the lords that followed the Lord-Paramount home. Then he saw THAT. He saw a creature hunched over another victim. It was a lanky, emaciated creature, but it was large and easily as long as the long pikes used by the ancient lockstep-legions. Jon's sword grip tightened while Benjen gripped at the sword at his hip. One wrong move, one sound, and they would both be dead.
Unfortunately, the sound that drew its attention wasn't from them. It was the sound of the party echoing down the halls.
Its head snapped to the direction of the Great Hall.... and where their family was.
"No.... God's no..." Benjen gasped in horror.
He didn't know what came over him, but the next thing Jon realized his uncle was shouting from behind him and he himself was running to the Great Hall before it was too late. Jon heard screaming and his feet pushed him further and further ahead.
He arrived into a scene of chaos. One one side cowering women and children, in front of them Lords and guards grasping at whatever weapons they could. And looming over them was that damned abomination surrounded by dead and wounded nobles and servants. Among them the King and his father. Whatever had happened both Lord Stark and King Robert stood in defense in front of their families and for their bravery lay on the ground, sprawled and bleeding and just about to die.
The Wight had opened its mouth to show rows of needle-like teeth. In a moment it was about to bite the pinned Lord-Paramount and King.
In response Jon did the stupidest thing he ever could do: run toward an easy death.
He ran over overturned tables and the flames of overturned brazier and candles. He did not trip as he ran through a floor littered with bodies. He did so as he shouted a wordless cry to draw the monster's attention. The Wight turned just too late as Jon jumped with his sword grasped in both hands .... and sank the blade into an eye. The monster stumbled and screeched in pain. It thrashed and lashed out blind while Jon held on for dear life. His sword was well-lodged into the nightmare's eye socket and the bastard held onto the grip for dear life. But not strong enough that Jon could safely separate himself. With more anger than pain, it threw Jon hard into a wall.
"JON!" someone shouted.
He tasted copper in his mouth but Snow didn't care. He dragged himself up, now weaponless, and grabbed the nearest sword he could find.
"VaLyRiAn...."
The Wight stared at him with its one good remaining eye. Or was it the sword? A hazy-minded Jon looked at what he held: Ice, the sword of his father. It was lighter than any bastard sword should be and it was ... familiar ...
"VaLyRiAn!"
The abomination surged toward Jon and the bastard raised it in defense. He stumbled, just as claws that would split a horse in two flew over him. Snow roared and with one hand on the grip and another guiding the blade he thrust Ice forward into the gut of the undead horror. The response was immediate. The wight jolted back and fell to the floor spasming as smoke seemingly hissed out of the stab wound. It shrieked in pain and turned its hateful eyes back towards him.
Jon was on one knee, barely holding himself up by the sword. He did not have the strength to strike again. But he bought enough time. The door swung upon and at the front of it was Benjen and a mixed gathering of men, even one with a sword lit on fire. Snow did not hear what they were shouting only that arrows and bolts flew at the monster and so many blurry faces were now crowding around him....
[hr][/hr]
Jaime Lannister loved his sister. Perhaps too much. But even if his twin was Queen there had to be limits.
"Do you see that whore!?" she snarled, "she mocks us!"
They could be doing anything else but the Kingsguard was stuck in the old tower bickering with the more ... problematic of his two siblings. By now the sun was beginning to set and he was still forced to remain here and listen to his dear sister's ire.
"Our Lord Father said a Lion does not care about the words of lesser. She is some Wilding savage. Why do you care?"
"A lion cares not because it knows they fear it." Cersei hissed, "she does not know her place."
They had been going in circles for hours now. When it seemed like they were done arguing it would always go back to the same topics: The Wolf, The Wilding, and The Wight.
"All eyes are on Ser-" Cersei glared harder at him, Jaime coughed, "The beast. And the beast's eyes keep watch of his Lady-Wife."
"Enough about her depravity." she dismissed, "if you aren't enough of a lion to deal with that dog then I will do so myself."
He wanted to correct her but that was for another time, "Unless you have been secretly practicing magic all these years I don't see how you can best that monster."
"You fear him? And you call yourself a Kingsguard?"
"I fear being reduced to a red paste for nothing."
"Then you are fortunate that I have already done so. Your fellow Kingsguard have agreed to investigate things further."
Blount. Trant. Jaime bit his lip at hearing those two men. One a coward, the other reminding him of much crueler men and crueler times.
"And how will that help? You were there Cersei. You saw that thing."
"I have." she dismissed, "The first move does not mean victory. Whatever secrets or tricks they uncover they will report to their queen soon enough."
"The King-"
"What will he do? Yell at me? Ignore me while he drinks, eats, and fucks more than he already does?"
"Cers-"
"Do. not." Cersei hissed, "'Cersei' me-"
"CERSEI!" he all but shouted, "Enough!"
"...no. No I will not Jaime. That 'Scorch' you men call is a threat. To the Crown. To the Lannisters. To me. To you. I just know my sweet brother."
Suddenly they heard the bellow of a horn. Unlike all the others they heard this one was deeper, and more foreboding. It was soon followed by shouting. Panicked shouting of small folk and the disciplined cries of disciplined guards and soldiers. The Kingsguard knew on instinct that something bad had just happened. He peeked his head out a window to see the sun having finally set and fire and smoke now billowing in the distance.
Jaime gritted his teeth, "We will talk about this later."
"My children! They are-"
"I will find them." he replied, "And the King. It's my duty. We need to get you somewhere safe first."
They rushed down the old wooden steps and opened the door to see the peasants of Winterfell run one way and it's soldiery the other.
"You!," He grabbed the shoulder of one red-cloaked guard, "What is going on here!?"
"A monster Ser Jaime!" the Lannister-men shouted, "The Wight has broken free!"
Jaime subconsciously snapped his eyes to his Queen-Sister.
Cersei was indignant, "It is a broken corpse!"
An inhuman shriek filled the air as he saw a nightmare made manifest. On the other end of the castle he saw what was once a Wight, now it had been twisted into something even more inhuman than before. Covered in blood and many broken spear and arrowheads it locked eyes with Jaime just once .... before it climbed up the wall, swiping aside an unlucky man on the rampart who hit the earth now cut to ribbons.
The Kingsugard swallowed and turned to the guard, "Get the Queen the safety. I must find the King and the children!"
The Redcloak nodded, "Yes Ser Jaime!"
"Jaime!" Cersei cried in outrage, "What are you doing!?"
The guard grabbed her arm "Your Grace we must get to safety!"
He ignored her and watched as he heard the sound of battle ... and the familiar sound of the machine beast in motion. They were fighting, the Lannister realized and that meant he had a chance. He hoped it was not slim. The Kingsguard drew his sword and joined with the rest of the guards.
"JAIME!"
[hr][/hr]
He was Thoros of Myr and he was one of the worst priests. He drank and he slept with women, he ate heartily as well. He had come to Westeros to spread the Red Faith and show the Andals the light of the Lord of Light Rhi'lor. He tried to do that with the King and it did not go well. Now he was just an oddity, a foreign drinking partner that King Robert liked to bring along as company.
He also had a flaming sword. But that was used more for show nowadays.
Hearing of The Great Other was one thing. He may have been a terrible Red Priest but he still knew his scripture. Seeing one of its servants was another. Thoros was lucky that his sword was always close by. When the horn bellowed and that awful cry filled the air he had grabbed it.
The First Ranger had gathered men from all the different attending houses and they rushed into the Great Hall to see a scene of slaughter a nightmare-made flesh. They could have panicked, should have panicked but seeing Lord Stark's bastard stand along against the monster had stirred something within him. Next thing Thoros knew he had ignited his Wildfire-laced sword. It burnt firey red, then gold, and finally white. It shouldn't be able to do that but it did. Thoros did not care because Thoros realized he was screaming what any man of Essos would say:
"VALAR MORGHULIS!!!"
All men must die the term translated. And some replied to that with 'Not Today'.
With the fear and fury of his god running in his blood Thoros swung and cut and burnt a great gash on the undead's chest. It recoiled in ... fear? Maybe. But it recoiled all the same. With Thoros casting the first strike the rest followed.
"HEAR ME ROAR!"
"WINTER IS COMING!"
"OURS IS THE FURY!"
It was not Lords who were shouting the battlecries, it was just regular men and house knights just barely above smallfolk. Regardless they surged forward with arrows, swords, and spears to chase away the creature. And against men with numbers and more than enough torches it fled.
They chased after it, some of their number bleeding off to tend to the wounded of which there were many. They followed it as it left a trail of death up and over the walls.
"RUN!" Thoros heard Scorch roar, "GET YOUR PEOPLE OUT OF HERE!"
They arrived outside to see Scorch stand on two feet. Now a proper giant and in the form of a noble yet-savage knight. He stood across from the undead as both roared at one another in challenge.
Game of Thrones Season 4 Soundtrack - 15 Let's Kill Some Crows
Embedded Media
Spoiler: Scorch
Spoiler: Wendigo
Scorch and the monster charged at each other. Two giants that walked the earth, one a nightmare made flesh, the other a champion and protector.
They clashed with Scorch the first to land a blow; punching down the undead mid-lunge. But even if it looked a thin husk it didn't act as such. The moment it hit the earth the monster bounded back sinking its claws into Scorch's arm. The battle had begun, a clash of titans fit for legend.
The wolf had his immense strength, each blow capable of pulverizing stone; the abomination was agile, it slipped around Scorch's defenses and trying to rend metal-flesh with sword-like razor-thin claws. For every man, woman, or child that ran, two more would stand and watch. They gaped at the deadly dance whether they were noble or commoner. Even after the display, there had been skeptics. Now? There were none. Scorch's might was as obvious as the creature he battled and Thoros saw in the eyes of shaken lords and knights fear and awe of the shapeshifter.
They exchanged blows at a speed and strength that no living thing should have and they continued to tear each other apart. Scorch would grapple with the undead, slamming it hard into the earth again and again. The abomination would try to find an opening and stab and stab and stab like a madman just so the metal giant would bleed his strange blood. At some point, the brawl moved away from the castle and into the field with neither side able to step out of their savage dance.
Finally, with shared shock and horror they saw Scorch stumble, his heavy foot sank into soft Earth just enough he could not dodge the claws that sank into his gut.
The Transformer grunted in pain but then did the unexpected: hold the creature's arm in place with one arm ... and grabbed its face with the other.
"GIVE ... ME ... YOUR ... FACE!"
Fire and light sprang out from Scorch's arm, immolating the immobilized undead in a wave of flame. The monster shrieked for all the good that it did. It thrashed in the giant's grasp as it was burned alive and it's skull was crushed in an iron grip. With a sickening tearing sound, the Wight's head was separated from its body, and Scorch kicked the corpse into the earth, the claws ripped out from the giant's side. The Transformer tossed the head aside as the twisted creature burned bright in the darkening sky.
Scorch gave a bestial howl up into the air triumph. Or was it pain? Perhaps it was both.
The rest of Winterfell stared whereas Thoros suddenly felt exhaustion take him; more than any single event ever could. Regardless of what happened today it was clear the gods had played a part. The threat was real, the power displayed was real, ....and the worst Red Priest just realized was that no amount of drink would calm the fire in his nerves.
[hr][/hr]
Tyrion jumped awake.
"WIGHT!" he shouted, only to realize no one else was there. The Lannister froze and saw around him an empty expanse of black sky and an endless white plane.
"Tyrion Lannister"
The dwarf jumped, his body jolted and his eyes snapped to the voice from behind him. He saw to his surprise a fellow dwarf clad in a suit of full-plate armor fit for little-persons like him. Then Tyrion realized there was no one inside the suit and that that man who spoke was the suit.
Spoiler: The Dwarf
Glowing eyes stared into Tyrion's soul, perhaps quite literally. The construct for lack of a better word studied Tyrion as if he was a Maester's project and then began to speak.
"My name is Micronus." replied the construct, "We need to talk. Half-man to Half-bot."
[hr][/hr]
A/N: So far its seems like the next world is set to be NuBSG. It will be naturally shorter. After that I can't say for sure.View This ThreadUnread Watched Threads
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