Wizard Lord of Westeros

King's Landing

POV of Domeric Bolton

"I didn't know that we were going to King's Landing in order to steal women and little boys." Euron Greyjoy, or Muron, as it's now called, said with a laugh and Domeric rolled his eyes as the half-demented pet gazed lustfully at the women.

"They're not here for the reason you think, Muron." He said before he thought about it and said "Ah well, the women are whores, you're correct in thinking that. But I've not brought them on board for that purpose. Neither are the boys for that purpose either."

"Then what? You want to marry them?" Muron asked sarcastically.

"No. They'll build a spy network for me." He explained to the man whom he had saved from freezing off at the Wall a few months ago.

Despite his sadistic tendencies, Domeric had no doubt that Euron Greyjoy was one of the best sea captions in the Westeros. That is why he rescued the man from freezing off at the Wall and took his time to make sure that the man was loyal to him. Then he used some high-level transfiguration to grow his missing left eye as well as changed his face to a degree that no one else would ever be able to recognize him as Euron Greyjoy.

And now the man worked as his Fleet Admiral. Not that he had much of a fleet at the moment. But he'll have one in the future.

"Spy network." The man spat before his mind started working a mile a minute and he nodded reluctantly "Aye, I guess such a thing would be useful to you. Unless you can use your magic and find out about everything that goes around in the 7 kingdoms."

"No. If could do that then why would I waste my time in building a spy network?" he asked but then gestured for the man to stop talking "Take care of these girls and travel to Myr next. From there we'll go to Tyrosh and Lys."

"As you say, my lord." Muron bowed deeply though he could feel the sarcasm dripping out of each word that he said.

Apparently being loyal to him didn't mean that Muron would stop using his unwanted sarcasm at him.

"Report to me once you reach your destination." He ordered and Muron gave him a nod.

"And what'll you be doing until then?" Muron asked. "You're not even old enough to wet your cock on a nice and wet pussy."

"No. And it's a damn good thing, otherwise, I would be rather distracted with all the pussies that are being offered to me these days." He said "No. I'll be planning for the expedition at the north of the Wall."

"Don't see what you find so tempting that you would be willing to freeze off your balls in that desolate land. But it's your funeral." Muron joked and he rolled his eyes before he said Goodbye and Portkeyed back to Dreadfort.

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Dreadfort Castle

POV of Domeric Bolton

"How are the troops coming along?" he asked Walton as they looked at the thousand men running laps around Dreadfort early in the morning just before dawn.

It was rather cold outside, but these men needed to prepare for cold if they were to be of any use to him at the north of the wall, the True North.

"They aren't worth the food they eat." Walton grunted. Domeric almost let out a sigh at the man's bluntness and his bad review of the men he was training.

Because regardless of what Walton said, a simple use of legilimency told him that the men were coming along well and that Walton was secretly rather proud of them.

"How long until they're ready for the expedition north of the wall?" he asked.

"You're too impatient." Walton retorted without any heat in his voice. He felt that he needed to chastise the man but then he realized that Walton was not wrong in saying that.

"Yes. I'm a bit impatient. Things are always so slow in this world." He murmured to himself and lamented the time it took for things to happen in this world.

Even traveling from Dreadfort to Winterfell took a whole week of his time if he didn't use magical means of transportation. A journey that would have hardly taken a day for a modern-day human with access to a car or a bike.

"Don't worry. Give them two moons worth of time and they'll be ready for the expedition."

"And if they're not?" he asked.

"Then they'll die." Walton said in his brutally honest way with a shrug as if the lives of these men weren't worth a damn.

But he couldn't blame Walton for that kind of thinking when more than 95% of lords and ladies think the same way when they look at the smallfolk.

Something that would only change once he started educating the smallfolk. And that was not going to happen in a fortnight.

"Did Lord Stark reply to my message?" he asked to his aunt who had remained strangely silent up until this point. Maybe because she was pissed that he woke her up so early in the morning.

"Yes. He asks for the reason behind your expedition." His aunt replied frostily, and he added 'waking her up in the morning' to his list of things that he would not repeat again.

"Then send him a letter and tell him the reason behind the expedition." He said and could see Walton trying to listen to their talks. It was understandable as aside from him and his aunt, no one else knew why he was preparing for the expedition to the north of the Wall. 'The real reason.'

His aunt's gaze fell back upon him as she scrutinized him for a long moment before she asked "Are you sure? I don't think Lord Stark would believe us if that's what we tell him. And even if he did, he'll likely think of us as fools more than anything else."

"Let him think what he will about us as long as he permits us to travel north beyond the Wall." He said without any worry.

"And if he doesn't?" she asked.

"Then I'll pay him a visit myself." I replied "But he knows better than to deny me my request. Especially when I named his son Bran Stark my heir in case I perish north of the Wall."

He could see that his aunt was worried about him, so he simply put a hand on her hands and gave her a sweet smile "Don't worry. You know what I'm capable of. And we both know that nothing will happen to me."

"Do we?" she asked as her worry turned into anger at his reckless behavior.

"Yes. Even if we are ambushed by the wildlings North of the wall, I'll just use my portkey to come back here." I said with a smile, and she gave him a hesitant nod which was followed by a shaky smile.

As we were talking, the recruits, quite a few of them were the veterans of the Greyjoy Rebellion and Robert's Rebellion, finished their lap across the Dreadfort and were then drilled even further by Walton and his men.

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