Chapter 1:

The Last of the Wolves

GoT CS AU smut. Emma Targaryen is the crown princess of Westeros, but when war comes to King's Landing, her mother sends her away to secure an alliance with their cousins in the North by marrying Killian Stark, Lord of Winterfell.

So, I'll be honest with you, I don't even expect anybody to read this. It was just something I wanted to write for myself (after realizing that Hook's vocabulary is almost exactly the same as Northern speech patterns in Westeros) and who knows, maybe someone else will happen to enjoy it, too. My point is: I don't think that there's an audience for this, but it exists all the same. Because fanfiction.

TRIGGERS INCLUDE dub-con, forced release, dom/sub, and possibly some light humiliation because apparently that's the kind of fic writer I'm going to be.

THERE WILL BE MAJOR GoT SPOILERS AND SPECULATION! THIS FIC IS BASED ON THE THEORY THAT R + L = J ! IT TAKES PLACE A FEW GENERATIONS AFTER SHOW CANON! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!

IMPORTANT: In this AU Killian and Emma are cousins but this is NOT an incest fic. I'm simply staying true to the traditional Westerosi feudal system set up in the books. They are technically related by blood and that WILL be a huge factor throughout the story but their familial relationship has not been fetishized in any way. Just for clarification: His mother's first cousin was Emma's grandfather.

Last thing: Please don't get up my butt about any facts I got wrong or names I misspelled from the GoT universe. This is just a OUAT AU for funzies and not a crossover. It is strictly for OUAT fans, although the family tree will make a lot more sense if you've seen GoT.

Honestly, though, it's all just a set up for smut anyway.

"The Bastard of Winterfell?!" Emma shrieked, "You want me to marry Arya Stark's bastard son?!" Her voice echoed around the great throne room of the Red Keep where her mother Snow sat on the Iron Throne, her father David at her side.

Snow closed her eyes, clearly measuring her temper, "Killian is not a bastard, Emma. He was legitimized by your grandmother on the day of his birth and he meant a great deal to your grandfather."

"He's a drunk." she spat.

"Well, the North is a... hard place and-"

"He frequents brothels, mother. You think I haven't heard the stories?"

"Emma," Snow said firmly in her most authoritative voice, "it is imperative that the Starks and the Targaryens remain the two most powerful houses in Westeros. The only way to ensure that is through marriage and children. The slave armies from Essos are already on their way. We will need Killian's men, especially his ships, if we're going to win this war."

"No, we won't." Emma said stubbornly, "We don't need anyone, we have ten dragons. No one can defeat us in battle."

"It's more than that," replied Snow, pleading with her eyes, "The Seven Kingdoms must remain united and, more importantly, no army from the South has ever taken the North. You will be safe there."

"How can you be sure?!" she spewed hatefully. She didn't want to leave her home. She'd never even been to the North and for good reason. "You married for love!" Emma yelled, "Why can't I?!"

Snow looked up at her husband. He had blonde hair, like his father. Like all the Lannisters. But he was a bastard as well, and Emma knew that her words cut him deeply. She just didn't care. Killian had been legitimized, sure, but everyone knew what he was. Arya Stark (made Lady of Winterfell after her sister Sansa's death) had refused to marry and was thought to be barren until she became pregnant at a very old age by a man whom she refused to name. She did not survive the birth, but her half-brother, Jon, who was King of Westeros and desperate not to allow his family's name to fade away, begged his wife Daeneryes to make the baby boy Lord of Winterfell and name him Stark. He was the last of the wolves.

"You know that we love you, Emma," her mother said sadly, "but this is what is best. Not just for you but for the Seven Kingdoms. Killian will arrive within a fortnight. You will be married in the Sept of Baelor and then he will immediately escort you to Winterfell."

"I don't want to go to Winterfell!"

"You forget that you're grandfather was a Stark. He was raised at Winterfell. He fought a war to win Winterfell back from those who stole it from our family. It is just as much your ancestral home as it is Killian's."

Emma rushed up the stairs and fell at her mother's feet. "Please don't send me away." she begged with tears in her green eyes.

But Snow's decision was final, and Emma was immediately taken away to be fitted for warmer clothes and a wedding dress. Her worse nightmares were coming true. She was being shipped away to a barren wasteland, doomed to share her bed with a notorious rake until the end of her days. She spent the fews weeks she had walking in the gardens, enjoying the sun which she feared she would never see again. Then, one day, Killian Stark arrived at King's Landing.

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

Emma stood in the throne room wearing a new dress. It was a striking shade of red with long sleeves and a black dragon embroidered down the side. Her white blonde hair tumbled down her shoulders in soft waves, a true Targaryen, unlike her mother who was all Stark with her black hair and pale skin. Emma looked like her grandmother, Dani. Everyone said so. She wanted to remind this Northerner exactly what she was: far too good for him.

When doors opened she held her breath. A company of men walked into the throne room, all dressed in heavy fur cloaks. They were laughing hysterically as one man spoke, telling a story full of foul language and crude subject matter. The flickering light from the fire pits cast shadows across the dark room. When the man was done speaking he turned to the royals as if he had just remembered they were there. "Snow." he sighed, allowing a grin to spread across his features, "My beautiful cousin. You look radiant, darling." He leapt up the stone steps and knelt before the queen, "I am at your service, my queen." He kissed her porcelain hand, letting his eyes wander up to catch hers. There was a glint in them, Emma noticed. She also noticed the pink blush that crept across her mother's cheeks. He was undeniably handsome, even if he did look just like a Stark.

"Lord Stark, I am so pleased that you're here. I was beginning to worry. You're wedding is tomorrow morning."

"Yes, well," Killian couldn't contain the knowing smirk on his face, "my men thought I should have a stag party. We went South to Dorn before doubling back. Silly tradition, I know, but... they are very jealous that I'm to be marrying a princess. And a dragon princess, at that. I think they wanted to see if they could get me to accidentally miss my own wedding. Dorn can be such a..." he waggled his eyebrow suggestively, "...distracting place."

"Apparently they almost succeeded." bit out Emma tersely.

Killian turned to her for the first time with a smile that was genuine, if not lacking it's casual leer, "And you must be my bride." He stalked towards her, slowly, holding her gaze with his bright blue eyes, "Emma," Her name rolled off his tongue like he had named her that himself, "You are..." he advanced, groping lasciviously at her womanly curves with his blatant stare, "...even more beautiful than the songs say." He fell to his knees and took her hand, placing a warm kiss there, "It will be my honor to become your loving husband, my lady."

"Your Grace." Emma said sternly.

"Emma!" Snow snapped in warning.

"Pardon?" Killian asked, turning back to his queen.

"I am not just some lady, Lord Stark. I am Emma of House Targaryen of the blood of Old Valyria, Princess to the Seven Kingdoms, granddaughter of Danaerys Stormborn, Mother of Dragons and Breaker of Chains, and Jon Snow, the Prince that was Promised. I am the blood of the dragon, heir to the Iron Throne, and you are to address me as 'Your Grace' until I say otherwise or I will have your tongue cut out of your head and fed to my dragon as a snack. Is that understood?"

The way he looked up at her was not what she'd expected. He actually looked pleased. His lips quirked up at the corner of his mouth and he muttered, "Blood of the dragon indeed." then, with equal parts sarcasm and sincerity, he added, "Of course, your Grace."

KEKEKEKEKEKEKEKE

They were married the next day. All the great lords and ladies of Westeros gathered to watch Killian Stark and Emma Targaryan say the words that would bind them forever as man and wife. The feast was wild. The Northerners proved themselves to be just the sorts of brutes Emma had always been told they were, telling filthy jokes and drinking until they were belligerent with intoxication.

Even Killian was falling over drunk by the time his men were demanding the bedding ceremony. That was when Emma was grabbed by the Northern lords and hoisted in the air. They carried her out of the room, ripping her clothes off as she struggled to fight them off. They left her bare and seething with anger in the room she and Killian were meant to share.

The far wall opened onto a balcony overlooking Blackwater Bay. She stood there letting the gentle sea breeze whisper across her flushed skin. Her heart was pounding. She wasn't ready for this. She was a virgin, but that wasn't the point. This would not be a willing encounter even if he didn't physically force her.

"I've always been particularly fond of the ocean."

Emma jumped at the sound of his voice.

She turned. The Lord of Winterfell leaned casually against a stone column as if he had been standing there a very long time. She sighed, deciding that being combative wouldn't make this situation any better, and replied, "I suppose there's not much water in the North."

He laughed, "Oh, there's plenty of water. It's simply very, very cold."

Emma frowned. She couldn't remember ever being cold. The few winters she'd experienced had been short and mild. Nothing compared to the long nights at Winterfell where the snows came even in summer. "Then how do you know that you're fond of the ocean?"

Lord Stark pushed himself off the column and swaggered towards her, "I spent some time sailing with the Iron Born when I was a young man. Queen Yara kept me as her ward at the request of her brother Theon, who had a great deal of respect for our family."

"Your family." she corrected stubbornly, "I'm a Targaryen."

"Mostly, yes." he gently took her by the shoulders and turned her to face the bay. She could feel his lips on the shell of her ear as he whispered. "But I bet there's a bit of wolf in you, your Grace." his hands touched her body, feeling at her curves. When he reached her breasts her body betrayed her by trembling slightly when he grazed her nipple. "I bet," he continued softly, "that somewhere deep inside of you is a hungry animal, just waiting to be fed."

"Perhaps," she replied coldly, "but it does not hunger for dog meat."

Killian chuckled darkly as kissed her neck, "I am going to enjoy watching a dragon princess submit to me."

"I'm not one of your whores." she said sharply.

"Of course not." he replied, "Whores are boring. They do what you tell them to because that's what you pay them to do. Unless... you pay them to resist, which I have been known to do from time to time. But it's not the same. When they pull away," his fingers found their way to her mound which was bare in the Valyrian tradition. She tried to escape his grasp but he held her firm, grabbing her roughly between her legs with calloused hands, "when they pull away," he continued, "you know it isn't real. You know that they want to be used and told what to do. That's the thing no one understand about whores. You aren't really dominating them. They're in control the whole time."

"I will never be dominated." Emma said as his fingers began to rub circles around a part of her that had only ever been touched by her own hand. "I am a dragon. You're just a mutt."

That seemed to push him slightly over the edge. His movements quickened, turning harsh, sending warmth into her bundle of nerves. She whimpered uncontrollable and tried to escape again but he held her tight. "Have you ever seen a dire wolf, your Grace?" Emma tried to control her breathing. Her body wasn't used to the sensations overtaking her. When she pleasured herself she always took her time, working herself up slowly. He was pushing her fast. The feeling was intense, hovering on the border between pleasure and pain. He continued whispering dark words in her ear, "I have one. Obsidianis his name, sired by Nymeria and Ghost. He is large and fierce and as black as the long night, almost as tall as me horse. I've seen him tear a man to pieces in just seconds."

When Emma spoke her question was breathless, "Why would you order your wolf to kill someone?"

"I didn't." he replied, nibbling at her ear, "The man attacked me. Wolves are loyal and wildly protective. If you love them, and they love you, they will never let you be harmed."

"Dragons aren't as obedient as wolves." she said.

"Obedient? Oh, no, your Grace. A dire wolf is no pet. They can never be tamed. They are only loyal as long as they want to be. You, on the other hand..." then his fingers suddenly slid through her folds and she whimpered. She was ashamed of her body's reaction, but she couldn't help it. Her core ached to be filled, but she tried to ignore the want. "You will succumb to me. You will beg and plead for release and I will give it to you. I will watch the fierce dragon princess writhe in uncontrollable pleasure at my command.

"Never." she moaned, hating how needy she sounded.

When he entered her she cried out. She had never been filled before, not even by her own hand. The digit felt huge as it intruded upon her most private place. He laughed, "Now you see, that's the kind of resistance you simply can't buy. Even the best whores in the world can't fake it. They want it because it's their job to want it. But you don't want it. You need it. You crave it. Your body is already desperate for it, despite how unwilling your heart may be."

"I am a future queen. You're just a bastard. You have no power over me."

He added another finger. Emma cried out at the intrusion and grabbed him by the wrist, but he was too strong, and her grip weakened when she felt him crook his fingers and rub at her walls as if beckoning her to come to him. "Have you ever touched yourself like this, your Grace? Do you know what happens when I rub at this spot?" he laughed while Emma began gasp as he went faster, "I'm sure you don't. I can tell you've never taken yourself like this. I'm sorry to tell you that, in my experience, if done correctly, the physical reaction is simply uncontrollable. Whores, tavern wenches, noble ladies, servant girls, even foreign princesses; they all come apart for me. No woman can help it. Not even a dragon." He brought his other hand to her clit and began to massage her there making her keen in his arms.

"Come for me. Your lord husband commands it."

"No." she bit out through a clenched jaw.

He began to thrust his bent fingers into her, making her see white as he laughed darkly in her ear, "You are a stubborn lass. I'm going to break you, just as I broke my steed. I'm going to ride my dragon until she's learned to be obedient and come when she's told." With that he forcefully bent her over the stone railing and pried her legs apart.

"I won't be taken like a dog!" she shouted, but he held her where she was.

"Not a dog," he whispered in her ear, "a wolf. A desperate, needy, wanton wolf who's going to beg me to allow her to fall apart on my cock." When he entered her it felt like he was splitting her in two. She tried to breath but he was so deep and there was an intense pressure on the place his fingers had been that was making her muscles flutter and contract as they never had before. He said softly "Listen carefully, princess. I'm only going to take you once tonight, but I have one condition. When you finally submit to me before I will allow you to fall you must admit that you're a wolf's obedient whore. You must scream it at the top of your lungs so the whole cit can hear."

"Never." Emma gasped, even as her body started to convulse around him. When he started to thrust it was hard and deep. She screamed out, her cries echoing over the bay. It took only seconds for the sensations to peak, and just as she was about to fall in hopes that she could hide her response the pressure was gone. She gasped. She was empty. Her walls pulsed seeking out the girth that had just been there.

"Say it, Emma." demanded, rubbing at her clit.

She took a deep breath, ignoring her own want and spat out, "It's your Grace, Lord Stark."

He laughed giddily and before she could blink he was taking her again, this time even harder, while rubbing furiously at her clit. She peaked again, this time going higher than before, but just before the release came he was gone again. She sobbed out, trembling as he supported her weight, "Please!" the plea left her lips unbidden. There was nothing she could do. Her body ached for it. Her muscles were fluttering desperately, looking for the sweet resistance that would bring her orgasm but finding nothing but emptiness.

"Do you want to come, princess?" he asked cockily, knowing the answer.

She shamefully whimpered, "Yes, my Lord."

He chucked, nibbling a mark onto her neck, "That's a good, lass. Now, say it. Say that you're a wolf's filthy whore and I will allow it."

Emma clenched her teeth. She would never.

After a moment of defiant silence he entered her again, holding her waist with both hands and slamming her onto his enormous length. "Say it." he said again, and pounded her relentlessly, the head of his cock hitting that special place over and over and over again. When he left her once more. This time she screamed as her body felt physical agony as it was ripped from the edge of pleasure. "I..." she said, biting back the humiliation, "I..."

He slammed into her again. "Say it, or I'll keep you like this all night. Right on the edge. And in the morning I'll leave you empty unsatisfied.

"Please, no!" she begged.

"Say it."

Emma fought it, she did, but her body was being tortured by primal need, so finally, desperately, the dragon princess cried out, "I'm a wolf's obedient whore!"

"And what wolf do you serve?" he shouted, spanking her hard

The strike on her ass was the last straw. Heat began to spread from her core, waves of mind blowing pleasure as she had never experienced before.

"Answer me, Emma, or I'll swear to all the gods I'll stop. Tell me, who is your wolf and master?"

She didn't want the feeling to stop so she cried through the ecstasy, "Killian Stark of Winterfell!"

Fireworks exploded in her eyes as her body trembled uncontrollably, violently wracked with sensations that were almost too much. When it finally ended, she collapsed, but was caught by strong arms that swept her up and carried limp body to the bed inside. Emma slowly recovered as Lord Stark crawl under the covers next to her and gathered her in his embrace. She didn't fight him, allowing him to tangle his legs with hers and trap her possessively. He was no longer erect, meaning that his domination had truly brought him pleasure. She couldn't deny that she was sated, and his body felt good wrapped around hers. Somehow, she felt safe, despite his aggressiveness.

Emma turned in his arms and found his striking blue eyes staring at her. "Are you alright?" he asked, and the question surprised her beyond belief.

"I..." she wanted to say no, but that wasn't the truth. She felt good. Tired, but good. She knew it was simply a physical reaction to the act, the royal maester had explained the process to her when she became a woman, but it felt very real. He surprised her with a kiss, gentle and soft. Her lips parted, letting him in. He kissed her slowly and deeply, firmly cradling her face in his hand. It felt good. Better than her kisses with southern lords and kings guards. Her arms wrapped around his neck and his did the same to her waist. His bare chest felt good against her skin. It was warm and covered in manly hair. His ginger scruff scraped her skin. He was powerful, she thought. His roughness had been arousing, unlike anything she'd ever experienced before. When she wrapped her legs around him she surprised herself by saying, "Will you... do it to me again?"

He pulled away slightly with an amused chuckle, "Not tonight, my love. You couldn't handle it. I was possibly a bit too rough as it was." he scratched behind his ear, looking almost embarrassed, "Believe it or not, I didn't intend for that to happen. But you're little power play in the throne room was so aggravating and when I saw you standing on the balcony... knowing that you were all mine..." he smirked shyly, "I've always been partial to a rather... aggressive nature. And I have had a bit to drink. The point is, we'll have to wait until you recover."

"You could be gentle."

He winced, "I wouldn't trust myself to make such a promise to you. I've never had very much self control and you are... Well, ruining you permanently is very difficult to resist."

"I'm strong."

He laughed softly and kissed her on the forehead, "Your heart is strong. Your body is not. It is mine to care for now." he kissed her left cheek, "Mine to pleasure." then her right cheek, "Mine to worship." then her chin, "Mine to mark and possess." then her nose, "Mine to protect." and finally her lips, "Mine to love." Emma looked up and saw sincerity in his gaze, and a part of her believed him. "I will never hurt you, Emma. Never."

"You said I had to obey you." she said sourly.

"And you will." he replied, gently stroking her face, "You are a princess. If you wish to tear my tongue out and feed it your dragon, you have that right. No one will stop you. If you wish to slaughter my wolf and hang his head from the walls of my castle you can. There is nothing I can do."

"I would never-"

He silenced her with a kiss, "Hush, let me finish. We are man and wife. You are mine, and I am yours. We should be equals, but we are not. You are my sovereign, and I must obey you in all things, except one. In our bedroom you belong to me. Not to your parents, not to the Seven Kingdoms, only to me. And just as I know that you would never harm me or my wolf, you must trust that I would never allow you to be harmed. Not by my own hand and certainly not by anyone else. My commands will only bring you pleasure, your submission will only leave feeling you satisfied and loved. That I swear to you."

Emma smiled and brought her hand up to her face and felt the scruffy beard there. "I suppose I can let you keep your tongue, Lord Stark."

He grinned, clearly arrogant in his triumph. He brushed his lips against hers and whispered, "I think you're going to be rather pleased with how useful my tongue can be, your Grace."

Thanks for reading! I would love to continue this but I probably only will if there's actual interest and for some reason I have a feeling this fic is just too nerdy to be widely appreciated lol. Still it was super fun to write! Please review, especially if you want to read more.

Oh, and in case you're wondering, yes this is intended to be slightly canon compliant. It simply takes place a few generations after Jon and Dani take the Iron Throne which is what a lot of people think will happen.