Adultery Game of Thrones 6.9

[Prince of Itarys]

Hi guys, this is my first story. So I'm open to every suggestion/ideas that you have. So the story will be set in a fantasy world, it will be heavily influenced from real world history, medievel fantasy shows like Game of Thrones, duh. I wanted to write it in HIndi but idk how well i can write in that, so im going with English for now, later we might delve into a region inspired by India, maybe? so we can do it in that language.... Anyways, nothing is fixed for now, I'll see the response on this to decide if I want to continue. The things are very fluid right now so throw your thoughts/ideas at me.
Also, I want to keep the story realistic and with real consequences for characters, like GOT and unlike every other story on this site, where the heroes get everything handed on a silver platter lol.
I will use POV based chapter, so the story would be observed from the pov of different individuals. Anything in that particular pov, would be in the head of that character, so their thoughts on things/people etc. would be that chapter. There will not be any narration so it will be tricky, unless absolutely necessary.
I will upload maps and maybe pics for reference for different characters.

 

[Prince of Itarys]

THE WORLD IS CALLED ARTOS.
Our story will focus on only a few key regions, with our characters, before moving out to different parts.

THE WORLD HAS 3 CONTINENTS.
1. GABA (WESTERN & LARGEST ONE)
2. TORASIA (SOUTHERN & MIDDLE ONE)
3. PONTIS (EASTERN ONE)

The story will start from Sevia & Alosia, the middle of the map. The countries around this region and mainly in the Torasian continent are fixed. Others can still change.

 

[Prince of Itarys]

Update 1

Luca I – POV​

I woke before the rest of the fort, the pre-dawn gloom pressed against the ancient stones of Acron. My eyes fluttered open at the sound of my mother’s soft, trembling call. “Luca, darling, it’s time,” she whispered urgently. Her voice carried love and her face tired and malnourished because of the siege.

For only a few months, I’d traded my simple life as a stableboy for the harsh reality of war. I remembered the smell of fresh hay and the comforting nicker of horses in the stables, a world where the greatest threat was a stubborn mule rather than an enemy’s war cry. But those days had vanished when the Kingdom of Sevia—the fierce, ambitious realm rising from the East—had set its sights on Acron.

Acron, the mighty castle that held a tiny strip of land, was more than stone and mortar to us. It was Alosia’s lifeline, the strategic chokehold that guarded vital trade routes between the continents of Gaba and Torasia. The merchant republic of Alosia had held Acron for seventy long years, ever since the civil war tore through the Archedian Empire. But now, Sevia, led by the resolute King Kalab—whose ambition burned as fiercely as his love for young maids—had laid siege to our walls. They were attacking not only to claim a fortress but to shatter Alosia’s grip on the seas and the sprawling trade routes it had long controlled.

Dragging myself from the bed, I listened as the clamor of marching began to seep into the corridors. Outside, the distant thud of war drums and the clash of steel hinted at the inevitability of another assault on the walls. I passed a fellow conscript—a lanky youth Manic, whose haunted eyes betrayed the terror we all felt, yet now mirrored a shared determination. In whispered recollections of simpler times, I remembered trading dreams of a quiet life among the horses with him. Now, at only 18, those dreams were replaced by the grim reality of defending these ancient ramparts.

As I moved through the dim hallways, I saw Captain Varin—the man who had plucked me from obscurity and thrust me into this maelstrom of war. His scarred face and steely gaze bore the weight of countless battles. I recalled his words on the day he conscripted me: “Boy, today you learn what it means to fight for more than your own survival.” In that moment, I felt both terrified and strangely honored to serve a cause larger than myself—even as I wondered why fate had chosen me, a lowly stableboy, to face the fury of a kingdom determined to break Alosia’s hold on trade and power.

I moved toward the outer wall, the chill stone underfoot a stark contrast to the warm memories of tending to horses. My mind raced back to the siege’s grim origins. Sevia, Gonya and the Sultanate, resented the ever-growing might of our merchant republic. Their assault on Acron wasn’t merely a military campaign—it was a calculated strike to wrest control from Alosia, to open new avenues for commerce and conquest across the Middlos and Sothoryos Seas. King Kalab and his allies, from the Principality of Gonya to the Corinthian Sultanate, were determined to see Alosia’s dominance crumble.

In the flickering lantern light, I caught brief, intense glances from the other conscripts—a motley collection of men and women, each carrying scars of loss and the raw determination of survival. Joren’s sunburned, hardened face, Marta’s fierce eyes that had seen the death of her son, and old Markus, who gave a daily count of our rations, all seemed to echo the same unspoken question: How long can we hold out?

Now, on the cusp of dawn and the coming battle, I understood that I was no longer merely a stableboy lost in a simpler world. I was a young man, thrust into a war that would decide the fate of our home and the trade routes that bound three great continents. The siege of Acron had become the stage for old grudges, fresh ambitions, and the relentless clash of power—a collision of destinies that would test us all.

I walk into the captain’s room. It always feels surreal that I have become a leading figure in the defense of this fort, a naive stableboy. As I enter, I feel the tense atmosphere.

Varin: “The army is marching East to relieve the siege.”

A glimmer of hope washed over my body.

Varin: “But…”

Ah, of course, it couldn’t have been that easy, right?

Joren: “But what, captain?”

Varin: “They will be here in 2 weeks, and… tell them Markus.”

Markus: “And.. we do not have the provisions to last another 2 weeks and I suspect that the Servian army knows of both the situations.”

Varin: “Aye, and they are preparing another assault for the day.”

Marta: “Pigs.” spits on the mention of the Servians.

Her word make the room silent, which makes the sound of the next catapult rock crashing into the walls even more prominent.
Varin: “Can we repel another assault?” asks in the direction of Joren.

Joren: “Aye, Captain. We will repel them a hundred times. The walls have not fallen in 150 years.”

Markus: “That may be, my lord. But no one has attacked them in 150 years.”

The old man’s comments made Joren sneer at him, but got a chuckle out of me.

That shouldn’t have happened, as I curse myself for chuckling and drawing attention to myself.
Varin: “Anything to add, Luca?”

Me: “No, Captain. I mean, um, I believe that we might be able to repel them as Ser Joren suggested. But…”

Joren: “But what boy? Do you fancy yourself a tactician now? You are only here because we lost good officers.”

Me: “No, Ser. But that is precisely what I meant to say. We might repel them today, but they outnumber us 15:1. They can afford the losses but we cannot recover in time for their next assault.”

Joren: “What do you say then, Boy. We run away? LIKE COWARDS? AND WHERE WOULD WE RUN TO? IN YOUR MOTHER’S PUSSY?” he said with an increasing volume.

How dare he speak of my mother, this.. this…

Me: “How dare yo--

Varin: “STOP IT IN THE NAME OF YOUR LORD.” roared the captain.

Varin: “Joren! Do not fret your own men for speaking the truth. He maybe a boy, but he is not wrong.” said the captain in resignation.

Marta: “So what do we do? Abandon the fort? Let those Servian swines take this castle without a fight? I will be damned if I let them take the fort with me drawing breath.”

Wow, she is full of vengeance. Maybe blinded by it.

A soldier rushes in through the door, panting.

Soldier: “Captain, the Servians have sent a message. They want a parley.”

A parley? Why would they want that when they have us surrounded with over 8000 men?

 

[Prince of Itarys]

Update 2

Derrin I​

A foolish attempt. Why did general Kronos wanted a parley with the garrison of Acron, I do not understand. They barely have 500 men on the walls, most of whom are unprofessional levies.

All these thoughts danced on my mind as I reached my modest tent. When I entered, they vanished. Replaced by the visuals of the only thing that has kept me sane throughout this siege, Tysha. The red-headed woman had been captured by my men, raiding the territories of Alosia.

She was bent over, cleaning my bed. Her ass was on full display, a prove of her already giving birth, barely covered by her silk smallclothes.

As I quietly walk bend her, smashing my hand on her round ass cheek …she shrieks

Tysha: AHHHHH.. wh-

Me: shhhh, its me darling …I purred in her ear

Tysha: ah my prince. You are back quick, not that I mind …she said sheepishly

Her words dawned on me, the reason I was back so early. I crash on my bed, pulling the 25 years old married woman in my lap.

Her ass is so soft on my thighs. Ahh..

Me: Well, it appears that we aren’t going to assault the walls just yet. The commander has decided to offer terms to the defenders. A fool’s attempt in my opinion.

Tysha: The commander is a wise and pragmatic person. Surely he must believe there to be a positive outcome of this parley, maybe even avoid the unnecessary loss of men.

Me: We offered them terms before. They refused. Alosians, the fucking money-grabbing pigs.

Tysha: Is that what you think about us, my prince? …she said, sounding offended

Me: Oh not you my sexy Alosian …as I pull her on the bed, under me

Me: You are my first conquest in Alosia, now I will conquer everything and everyone else that belongs to Alosia.. I say kissing her neck

Tysha: Oh of course, my young prince. We are yours to take …she moaned into my ear

Inspired by her words, I work my way down her chest. Pulling her silk gown down to reveal her marvellous breasts. A modest size, nothing as large compared to my mother or aunt…. Um I should not think about them..

I nibble her large and pink tits. She had unusually round areolas, them pink too. I start sucking like a baby, getting the usual sweet taste of her milk pouring out of her tits.

I look up as I start drinking it.

Tysha: Do you like stealing my baby’s milk my prince? …she asks while licking her lips

Me: uhmm.. I do, I also like stealing that baby’s mother hehe …I giggle

Tysha: I’m yours, my prince. Just keep your promise that you made to me.

Ah, the promise. I remember as I suck out her milk. I did promise her to return her to her home. What was it called? Ah yes Tencia, the northern town in Alosia. Well, maybe I’ll return her, if I go there… or maybe not hahahaha

I get up from her tits and unwrap my trousers, ah its good that I haven’t worn my armour yet. She would have surely refused my nasty and sweaty cock then.

I feel her hands on mine as she starts untying my breeches. Oh god, I’m so fucking hard, it feels like I’m going to explode.

???: My Prince, the commander has asked for you …came a voice outside my tent

FUCKKKKK

Me: Ah Yes, tell him I’m on my way.

Soldier: Sure, Your Grace.

Me: I have to leave ..as I start pulling my trousers back up

Tysha: Hold on my prince, I can be very quick. You like my mouth, don’t you? …she says as she takes her tongue out to tease me

Goddd.. she looks so slutty, my cock is going to explode

Me: Be quick …I pull her redhead into my cock

Slurp slurp slurp as she starts sucking me

Me: Good Lord, yesss …I moan out loud

Tysha is the woman who made me a man. The first one I ever lay with, despite being 18 already and a royal prince, shes my first woman, and the experiences that she has brought me. Fuckkk, the night when she offered her pink tight asshole to me, after I made her the promise..

Ohhh that assholee… whoahh… its cominggg

Me: I’m cumming, cumm, yes yess …I pull her head into my cock, her nose in my thick pubes

Ahh fuck im spent, as I squirt my cum in her mouth..

I quickly pull up my trousers, and look down upon my beautiful handwork on this married Alosian woman.

I make my way out and run through the camp to the commander Kronos’s tent. Ah yes, the parley. Lets see if his proposition of a parley has any affect on this siege.

 

[Prince of Itarys]

Questions/Suggestions

So I wrote a couple of samples above, if you've read them then please let me know if this type of POV works, or should I shift towards more of a narrative style POV of the characters.

Also, any additional suggestions on the things that I could improve on will be highly appreciated.

ThankYou

 

[Ristrcted]

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[niteshp]

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