Chapter 182: The Truth About the Trees
May 12
Jacob, Sansa, and Arya didn't sleep until they had finished all three Lord of the Rings movies.
Arya went to her room, and Jacob took Sansa with him to his own room.
Seeing Sansa's panicked expression, Jacob smiled and said, "Relax. I just want to sleep next to you. I'm in no hurry to consummate our marriage. I'll wait until you're ready."
Sansa let out a small breath. "Thank you."
Jacob pulled back the covers. "Alright. Let's go to sleep."
They lay down, and Jacob turned off the light. He hugged her close, and she rested her head on his chest. After a while, she asked, "Can you tell me about your family?"
Jacob ran his fingers through her hair. "I don't have any brothers or sisters, and I don't know where my parents are. I thought they were dead—since I was eight—until two months ago, when I found out they're actually alive and had to fake their death for some reason." He smiled softly. "I'm really looking forward to meeting them again."
Sansa asked, "And your wives? Can you tell me about them?"
Jacob nodded. "There are four of them—Allison, Lydia, Malia, and Melissa. Except for Melissa, who's a bit older, the others are the same age as you and me. They're all nice—you're going to love them."
He smiled. "Allison is my first woman. She's the good girl in our family. She was raised to become a hunter, but she never did because she met me."
Sansa frowned. "When you say hunter, what do you mean?"
Jacob explained, "Her family hunts supernatural creatures. She was taught how to fight and use weapons from the time she was a child."
Sansa's eyes widened. "What are supernatural creatures?"
"People like me—who have powers to turn into animals, use fire to attack, and so on." He paused. "Her family tried to break us up because of what I am, but we're all good now. Her family is my family now."
Sansa asked, "What about your other wives?"
Jacob continued. "Lydia is the smartest of us all. She has red hair like you, and she's a spoiled, mean, narcissistic girl who loves buying new clothes and watching romantic movies and shows. I think you and her will get along well, because both of you like romantic stories."
He smiled at the memory. "Then there's Malia. She's a tomboy, just like Arya. She's rude and always says what she thinks. She doesn't know how to lie. And she loves to fight and kill. She has a tragic story of her own, but you'll have to ask her about it yourself."
Sansa asked, "And Melissa?"
Jacob's expression softened. "She's the sweetest. She's a gentle woman—unless someone threatens me, my other wives, or her son."
Sansa sat up slightly. "Her son? Do you have a son?"
Jacob chuckled. "He's not mine. Actually, he's my age, and he's my friend. At first, I was just teasing him about marrying his mother, but then I met her, and I liked her. So I ended up marrying her."
Sansa lay back down. "Is that all your family?"
Jacob shook his head. "There's still another friend and his father, Lydia's mother, and like I said before, Allison's parents. And a crazy psychopathic butler. And also a talking cat and a dragon."
Sansa stared at him wide-eyed. "A talking cat? And a dragon?"
Jacob nodded. "Yes. The cat's name is Kitty. She's just like Arya and Malia—she likes to fight too. And by the way, she's very strong. As for the dragon, her name is Saphira, and she's a real dragon—not like the dragons from your world."
Sansa frowned. "What do you mean by a 'real' dragon? Aren't the Targaryen dragons real?"
Jacob explained, "The dragons from your world—the ones the Targaryens own—are a type of dragon, but in my world, we call them wyverns. What we call dragons have four legs and two wings, instead of two legs and arms fused with wings. And they're much stronger. Anyway, I'll show you tomorrow what a real dragon looks like."
Sansa asked, "Are you going to call your dragon, Saphira?"
Jacob shook his head. "No. The dragon you're going to see tomorrow isn't Saphira."
Sansa's voice wavered. "I'll be safe, right? I heard dragons are violent. Other than their riders, they kill anyone who gets close to them."
"You'll be totally safe." He smirked. "Actually, you can ride the dragon you're going to see tomorrow in more ways than you think. He can even ride you too."
Sansa raised an eyebrow. "Ride me? Is it small?"
Jacob laughed. "He's not small. You'll understand tomorrow."
Sansa pouted. "Why are you laughing?"
Jacob kept laughing, hugged her close, and said, "Good night." He closed his eyes and soon drifted to sleep.
Sansa sighed, and sleep took her too.
---
The Next Morning
Jacob woke up first and found Sansa deep asleep with a peaceful smile on her face. He quietly left the bed and went outside the capsule house.
The three lizard-lions were still fast asleep not far away. Brienne and Podrick sat on rocks nearby.
Jacob walked to them. Brienne and Podrick started to stand, but he waved a hand. "You don't need to stand. Just relax."
Brienne smiled. "Morning, Your Grace."
Jacob nodded. "Morning."
He took out the Cookpot of Perfect Meal—the reward he'd received yesterday—and filled it with Sker Buffalo meat, onions, carrots, and potatoes from his pocket dimension. He added seasonings and water, pressed a button to start the pot, and let it cook.
When he finished, he noticed Brienne and Podrick staring at him. "Do you want to ask something?"
Brienne looked at the hoodie and sweatpants Jacob was wearing—and the cute puppy slippers on his feet. "I've never seen clothes like the ones you're wearing."
Jacob shrugged. "Where I'm from, everyone wears clothes like these."
Brienne's expression turned serious. She met Jacob's eyes. "Your Grace, are you really a sorcerer, like Littlefinger said?"
Jacob sat down on a chair he pulled from his pocket dimension. "What if I am?"
Brienne's voice was steady. "Then I hope you're a good one. I'm not going to lie—I hate sorcerers and witches. They killed someone I cared about. But I will not betray Lady Sansa or your family, Your Grace. I just really hope you're not an evil sorcerer, because I will not participate in any dark magic. I would die before I did that."
Jacob smiled. "I'm not a sorcerer. And I hate witches and wizards too—especially dark ones, like the followers of that demon R'hllor. So you don't have to worry. My family and I will kill any dark wizard or witch on sight."
Brienne nodded, visibly relieved. "That's good to hear." Then she asked, "By the way, Your Grace, we found a lot of weapons and blood in front of the north gate. Did a battle happen here?"
Jacob nodded. "Yeah. Two hundred Bolton men came here two days ago. Arya and I killed them. My three pets helped too."
Brienne and Podrick stared in shock.
Jacob smiled. "Now, tell me your story, Brienne."
Brienne told him about serving Renly Baratheon and witnessing his murder by a shadow that looked like his brother Stannis. Then her service to Catelyn Stark and her oath to find her daughters. She told him about Jaime Lannister saving her from both Bolton men and a bear pit before she began her failed quest to locate Arya and Sansa. She explained how she lost Arya after defeating the Hound, how Sansa had rejected her a few days ago, and how she had been hunted by several Knights of the Vale—but had managed to kill them. She had followed Sansa from a distance, intending to rescue her from Littlefinger. That was why she had been watching Sansa from afar yesterday when Jacob appeared.
Just as Brienne finished her story, Sansa and Arya walked out of the house toward them.
Arya looked at the pot. "What's cooking? It smells delicious."
Jacob said, "Beef stew. It's almost done." He looked at Sansa. "Good morning, beautiful."
Sansa smiled. "Good morning." She hesitated for a moment, then kissed his cheek—and blushed while doing it.
Brienne watched Sansa with a soft smile. Arya ignored everything, squatted next to the pot, crossed her arms over her knees, rested her head on her arms, and waited for the food to be ready.
Podrick panicked. He lowered his head and didn't dare look at Sansa, remembering what had happened to Littlefinger yesterday.
Jacob smiled, took another chair from his pocket dimension, and placed it next to him. "Sit."
Sansa sat down. "Why didn't you wake me up when you woke up?"
Jacob caught her hand. "You seemed peaceful. You were actually smiling. I didn't want to wake you."
Sansa smiled. "Thank you."
Jacob said, "You seem like you had a good dream. Care to tell me what it was about?"
Sansa panicked. "No, I—I didn't have any dream."
Jacob smirked. "It was about me, wasn't it? You don't need to be ashamed. I totally understand. With how handsome I am, it's natural for you to dream about me. They call me Prince Charming. No woman can resist my charm."
Arya rolled her eyes. "Here we go again. I told you—you're not as charming as you think you are. I don't find you charming, and Brienne doesn't find you charming either." She looked at Brienne. "Right?"
Brienne smiled and looked at Jacob. "His Grace is definitely a handsome man. But he's not my type."
Arya smirked at Jacob. "See? Brienne doesn't find you charming either. Only a lovesick fool like Sansa would fall for you."
Jacob shrugged. "You don't find me charming because you're a stupid kid who looks more like a boy than a girl." He looked at Brienne. "As for you, Brienne—you dress like a man and have short hair. Maybe you don't even like men."
Brienne said, "I do like men." She sighed. "Unfortunately, the only two men I've been interested in don't seem to like me. The first liked men, and the second loves his sister."
Sansa's eyes widened. "You like Jaime Lannister?"
Brienne nodded. "Yes, my lady. But worry not—me liking him doesn't mean I will let him lay a finger on you. I will kill him with my own hands if he tries to harm you."
Sansa said, "Well, you'd better move on. That guy only has his sister in his eyes. She's got him wrapped around her little finger."
Brienne sighed and said nothing.
Just then, the pot rang, announcing that the food was ready.
Jacob took a ladle and four bowls from his pocket dimension, filled them, and handed them out with bread. Everyone ate happily.
Jacob said, "This is delicious."
Arya, Sansa, and Brienne nodded and didn't even stop to comment—they kept eating.
Podrick was crying while he ate.
Sansa ate two bowls and was full. Podrick ate three. Arya and Brienne ate four each. Jacob ate the rest, shocking everyone with how much he consumed.
After they ate, Jacob stored the pot back in his pocket dimension.
Arya said, "We already found Sansa. So what's next?"
Jacob thought for a moment. "We'll stay here for a day or two. Then we'll head to Castle Black to get your brother Jon and conquer the Free Folk. On our way there, we'll pass by the Last Hearth—the ancestral home of House Umber. I heard your little brother Rickon is hiding there."
Both Sansa and Arya were stunned.
Sansa's voice trembled. "That can't be true. Theon killed him and Bran."
Jacob shook his head. "No, he didn't. They both managed to escape. So, to avoid looking weak in front of his men, Theon killed some farm boys instead, burned them, and hung them on the walls. Both your brothers are alive—for now. And I heard Bran is north of the Wall."
Arya and Sansa were overjoyed. Arya looked at Jacob. "By the way, how do you know all this? You said you're not from our… you know. But how did you know about Bran and Rickon? How did you know about Sansa? How did you recognize me? And how did you know about Littlefinger and everything else?"
Jacob said, "Let's just say that when I arrive in a new world, I learn about its past—not everything, but the most important things. And actually, there are other people who can learn the past and spy on everyone in Westeros. They call them the Greenseers."
Then Jacob asked, "Do you know those trees people worship? The heart trees?"
Everyone nodded.
Jacob continued. "You call them gods, but they aren't gods. Those trees are just… recorders. Biological archives."
Sansa frowned. "The old gods watch through the trees, Jacob. My father always said—"
"There is only one God, Sansa." Jacob interrupted. "The Creator—who created everything and wasn't born or created. Your father was told a story to make sense of something he couldn't understand. Those trees are a network. They record every word whispered, every drop of blood spilled, every secret kept in their shadow. Those trees are just creatures—very old creatures that remember everything."
Arya narrowed her eyes. "Then who is watching the biological archives recorded by the trees? Greenseers?"
"Yes," Jacob said with a look of pure disgust. "Creepy voyeurs. People like the Three-Eyed Raven—an old, shriveled pervert named Brynden Rivers. They're not divine. They're just creepy men sitting in the dark, plugging themselves into the weirwoods so they can spy on the world. They watch you dress. They watch you cry. They watch you sleep. They watch you laugh. They watch you die. All while you pray to them for help they'll never give—and cannot give."
Everyone was shocked.
Arya asked, "Who is this Brynden Rivers?"
Jacob explained. "According to my knowledge, Brynden Rivers was a Targaryen bastard who spent his life as a kinslayer and a spymaster. He was so obsessed with power and control that when his body finally started to rot, he crawled into the roots of a tree to keep his 'thousand eyes and one' open. He was a man who executed his own family—a criminal sent to the Wall in chains before he vanished into the North to become the Three-Eyed Raven. Now he's nothing more than a creepy old man in the dark, recording your lives because he can't let go of the world he was kicked out of."
Sansa's face was pale. Her voice was a whisper of pure revulsion. "A Targaryen? My grandfather and uncle were burned alive by the Mad King. And you're telling me that while I knelt to those trees, begging for my family's safety, I was actually performing for the amusement of a Targaryen bastard?"
Arya didn't look sad. She looked dangerous. "I just added him to my list."
Brienne looked deeply unsettled. "A knight's oath is sworn before the old gods so that the heavens may judge him," she said, her voice trembling with rare anger. "To think that those gods were just stories and that what was watching through those trees was just a disgraced prisoner of the Night's Watch… it makes a mockery of everything. There is no honor in a man who hides in the roots to steal secrets he has no right to hold."
Jacob nodded. "It's a violation. You were worshipping a surveillance system for a man who lost his humanity centuries ago. But don't worry—I will deal with that creepy bastard. And no one should kneel to those trees. I'll burn them until there's nothing left but ash. We don't need a peeping tom watching our lives through trees."
Arya asked, "Are you a greenseer too?"
Jacob shook his head. "No. But one of my wives can probably connect to all plants better than any greenseer could."
Sansa asked, "Which one of them?"
Jacob said, "Melissa. She can control plants and make them attack people. She can even turn trees into humanoid monsters, like the rock puppets I used to scare the Vale knights yesterday."
Arya asked, "Is she a witch?"
Jacob shook his head. "No. She's like me—a creature with supernatural abilities."
He stood up. "Now, Sansa, come with me. As for you, Arya—stay here with Brienne and Podrick until we come back."
Arya frowned. "Where are you two going?"
Jacob smirked. "None of your business." He hugged Sansa and disappeared, leaving Arya pouting.
Arya looked at Brienne and Podrick with an evil smirk. "Which one of you wants to spar?"
Brienne shook her head. "Not me. You're too strong for me, my lady."
Podrick hid behind Brienne. "I don't know how to wield a sword, my lady. I'm still learning."
Arya snorted. "Boring." She went off to train alone.
Chapter 183: Gifts of Power
May 15
Jacob teleported with Sansa far away from Moat Cailin, landing atop a grassy mountain.
Sansa looked around, brushing a strand of red hair from her face. "What are we doing here? Are you going to call your dragon?"
Jacob shook his head. "Not yet. First, I want to ask you again—are you willing to marry me? Are you willing to spend the rest of your life with me?"
Sansa met his eyes without hesitation. "Yes."
Jacob raised his right hand. A red tattoo appeared in the center of his palm—a circle with a dragon's head at its heart. "Then drop your blood here."
Sansa studied the glowing symbol. "What for?"
Jacob explained, "So you will become my wife. You'll understand after you do it."
Sansa nodded. "Okay. But I need something to prick my finger."
Jacob took her hand. With his claw—which made her eyes widen—he made a small cut on her finger. "You'll understand why I have claws later. Now, drip your blood on the tattoo."
She let her blood fall onto the symbol. The tattoo glowed with a bright, vivid light, then slowly faded until it vanished entirely.
Both of them closed their eyes as the magical contract sealed their bond. In Jacob's mind, a screen materialized:
[Contract Successful. Congratulations, Host. You are now married to Sansa Stark. The two of you are bound for life. You cannot betray one another, and her mind is protected from being read by any other creature. You can communicate with her telepathically, and you will sense when she is in danger.]
Jacob opened his eyes and looked at Sansa, who was still processing the connection with her eyes shut. 'I wonder what kind of bloodline Sansa will get when we sleep together,' he mused.
Soon, Sansa opened her eyes, a look of wonder on her face.
"Do you understand what that tattoo was now?" Jacob asked.
"Yes," Sansa said, a small smile playing on her lips. "It's amazing."
Jacob smiled. "So you understand now that I will never hurt you or abandon you."
Sansa nodded. "Yes. We cannot betray or harm one another." Then she felt the other connections. "But I seem to feel four connections other than you."
Jacob explained, "Those are my other wives. They can feel you too, but you can't communicate with them yet. They're in another world, and I still need to build a travel room in Serendell—our home—so we can talk to each other even if we're in different worlds." He sighed. "And since they can feel that I added a new girl to our family, I need to find them some gifts before I return home."
Sansa's voice was tentative. "Will they hate me? Or be angry at me?"
Jacob shook his head. "No, no. Not at you. They'll blame me. But they know and have accepted what I am. So they'll just act angry at me to get me to coax them, take them on dates, and do things they like."
Sansa sighed in relief. "By the way, I learned some ability that lets me talk to you telepathically, but I don't know what that means exactly."
Jacob smirked and spoke directly into her mind. [Oh, it's like this. You can talk to me and my other wives directly inside our heads without using your mouth—no matter how far apart we are. Try it. Just focus on the connection between us and send your thoughts to me.]
Sansa focused and managed to reach him. [Like this? Can you hear me?]
Jacob responded aloud, "Yes, I can hear you. We can even share memories." He smirked and sent her a memory—himself looking at his naked reflection in a mirror.
Sansa stood frozen as the memory played in her mind. Her eyes snapped open. "Aahhh! Pervert! Stop showing me that!"
Jacob laughed. "I was just demonstrating the ability."
Sansa, still blushing, avoided his eyes. "Couldn't you have shown me something else?"
Jacob shrugged. "That's the most beautiful memory I could think of. You're welcome."
Sansa crossed her arms. "You are shameless. And why were you looking at your naked self in a mirror anyway?"
Jacob grinned. "I was admiring myself and making my reflection jealous of how good-looking I am."
Sansa's mouth dropped open. After a moment of stunned silence, she shook her head. "I don't know what to say anymore."
Jacob laughed and pulled a space ring from his pocket dimension. He slid it onto her ring finger. "Drop your blood on it."
Sansa admired the white gold ring—a dragon's head with two blood-red diamonds for its eyes. She squeezed her still-bleeding finger and let a drop fall onto the ring. Her eyes widened as she felt the connection, understanding what the ring was.
She immediately picked up a rock from the ground, stored it in the ring, and retrieved it several times, a happy smile on her face. Then she threw the rock away and looked at Jacob. "T-thank you!"
Jacob smirked. "A simple 'thank you' isn't sincere enough."
Sansa hesitated, then stepped closer. She intended to kiss his cheek—but Jacob caught her waist and kissed her on the lips. She was surprised but returned the kiss, and he didn't let her go until she was breathless.
Jacob rested his forehead against hers and smiled. "That's more like it." He kissed her again—a quick peck this time—and released her waist.
Sansa looked away, embarrassed, unable to meet his eyes.
Jacob pulled out the Hulk serum vial. "Here, drink this. It will grant you immense physical strength—far stronger than Arya right now. You'll even be stronger than a Targaryen dragon. Normal swords, daggers, and arrows won't penetrate your skin—unless someone uses Valyrian steel. You'll gain super healing—never get sick again, and deep wounds or broken bones will heal within seconds. And you'll become very fast when running."
Sansa took the vial, which was filled with a vibrant, translucent green liquid.
Jacob gestured to the grass. "Sit first. It will hurt a little, but nothing unbearable."
Sansa nodded, sat on the soft grass, and looked up at him. "Thank you." She opened the vial and drank.
Almost immediately, her skin flushed deep red, and her veins became prominent beneath the surface. She grimaced as waves of intense heat and mild pain washed through her—but nothing she couldn't bear.
Jacob watched her for a moment, ensuring she was stable, then lay down on the grass beside her, closed his eyes, and waited.
Forty-five minutes later, Sansa opened her eyes excitedly.
Jacob opened his eyes. "How are you feeling?"
Sansa beamed. "I feel great." She looked at Jacob lying beside her and wanted to kiss him—but in her excitement and with her new strength, she leaned in too fast and headbutted him hard in the face.
She raised her head, screaming. "Ahh! That hurt!"
Jacob rubbed his sore nose. "I should be the one screaming."
Sansa rubbed her forehead. "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you."
Jacob pulled her down and gave her a deep kiss. Then he released her lips and smirked. "Now, it's time to help you control your new strength."
Sansa's eyes widened. "I-I don't like that smile of yours. How are you going to help me?"
Jacob said, "By sparring with you. And I will not go easy on you. So use all your strength and try not to get beaten too badly."
Sansa protested. "Can we not do that? I don't know how to fight."
Jacob smiled. "You will learn." He pushed her off him, sending her flying several meters through the air. She screamed in panic.
When she landed, Jacob ran over and kicked her in the backside, sending her tumbling forward and crashing hard into the ground. She rolled several meters before stopping.
She stood up, groaning—but realized she wasn't hurt at all. Still, she pouted. "Can you be more gentle?"
Jacob smirked. "Nope. Now fight back." He attacked again.
She awkwardly put her hands up to defend herself and even closed her eyes.
Jacob shook his head but didn't stop. He punched her, sending her flying and crashing to the ground again.
"Get up," he commanded. "You need to learn how to fight. There is no weak woman in my family. Stop closing your eyes and fight back. Think of your enemies. Joffrey. Cersei. You need to become strong so no one can abuse you or humiliate you again."
Sansa got up. This time, she attacked. She punched awkwardly, but her strength was no joke. Jacob blocked her attacks with ease. "That's it. Use your legs too. Try everything to land a hit on my handsome face."
Sansa snorted and kept attacking. As she fought, she began to enjoy the rush, the adrenaline. Every time Jacob sent her crashing to the ground, she stood up grinning and attacked again.
They sparred for two hours before Sansa finally lay on the ground, exhausted—but with a happy smile on her face.
After catching her breath, she sat up and looked around at the deep craters she and Jacob had made while fighting. Then she looked at him and said sincerely, "Thank you, husband, for making me strong."
Jacob smiled. "You're welcome."
He pulled out a small table and two chairs from his pocket dimension, then covered the table with food—roasted meats, fresh bread, fruits, cheeses, and bottles of cold water.
"Come, let's eat. There's still more I want to give you."
They ate together, and afterward, Jacob handed her a vial of white honey potion. She drank it and gained immunity to all poisons.
Then he gave her scrolls: Firaga, Lightning Beast, Quen Shield, Cleaning Spell, and Repair Spell. She learned them all, practicing each with an excited, happy smile.
After that, Jacob gave her a Concealment Charm Bracelet and a cup of Fountain of Youth water. She drank it happily after learning its effect.
Then Jacob reached into his pocket dimension and retrieved a beautiful feather. It glowed with an inner, warm light, as if crafted from gentle flame. He handed it to her.
"This is a Phoenix Feather—also called a Phoenix Down. It can restore a dying person to full health. Most importantly, it can cure injuries inflicted by dark magic or curses and can be used as a potent weapon against dark creatures. Keep it safe in your ring. To activate it, simply will it, and it will dissolve into healing flame."
Sansa thanked him and carefully stored the luminous feather inside her space ring.
Next, Jacob produced a large, futuristic-looking energy weapon. "This is a Spartan Laser."
He handed it to her. "I'll teach you how to use it."
He hugged her from behind and guided her hands, showing her how to aim and fire. Sansa fired a test shot toward a distant mountain peak. A thick, crimson energy beam lanced out and struck the peak, causing a large explosion.
Sansa was surprised but not too shocked—she had already used her new immense physical strength, the Firaga spell, and the lightning spell. She stored the Spartan Laser in her ring, turned to Jacob, and kissed him gently on the lips.
"To be honest," she said, "when I woke up this morning, I was still a little scared that you would abandon me—that you just wanted to use me to control the North. But after I dropped my blood on that mark on your hand, all the doubts in my heart vanished. And with all these powers you've given me, I'm sure I could defeat any army—even one with dragons and tens of thousands of men. And I'm weaker than you. Way weaker than you." She looked him in the eyes and smiled. "Now I know for sure that you don't need me to control the North. You don't need anyone—even if you wanted to control all of Westeros."
She paused. "You probably don't even care about ruling Westeros, do you?"
Jacob shrugged. "Not really. I mean, it would be fun—but I need to wait for the rest of the family before I decide. I can't do it alone. I mean the ruling part, not the taking over and defeating armies. I don't know anything about ruling a country. And if I wanted to truly rule Westeros, I'd need to do it right—change this continent for the better. That's a lot of work, and I know I don't have the patience for it."
Sansa placed a hand on his arm. "Well, whatever you decide to do, I will help. And if I don't know something, I will learn."
Jacob gave her a quick kiss. "We'll talk about that later." He smirked. "Now, let me show you a real dragon."
Chapter 184: The Dragon Revealed
May 15
Jacob smiled at Sansa. "Now, let me show you a real dragon."
He stepped away from her and, after a moment of thought, said, "I'll be right back."
He teleported back to Moat Cailin and found Arya alone in the capsule house, watching Tom and Jerry and laughing after finishing her training.
Arya startled when he appeared. "You scared me."
Jacob put a hand on her shoulder. "Let's go. I want to show you something." Then he teleported back to Sansa and dropped Arya beside her.
He walked away from them and began to remove his clothes.
Sansa blushed. "What are you doing?"
Jacob said, "I'm going to show you girls what I am. Clothes won't survive the transformation."
Seeing Jacob down to his underwear, Sansa covered Arya's eyes. "You shouldn't watch that pervert."
Arya tried to pull Sansa's hand away but couldn't. "Hey! How come you're freakishly strong now?"
Sansa smiled. "Jacob made me strong."
Arya shouted, "Hey, Jacob! Why is Sansa stronger than me? That's not fair!"
Jacob called back, "Behave yourself, and I might make you as strong as her."
He added, "Sansa, I won't take off my underwear, so you can remove your hand from Arya's eyes. She needs to see what's going to happen next."
Sansa removed her hand, and both girls watched, wondering what Jacob was about to do.
Jacob said, "Alright, remember—don't be scared. I won't hurt you."
Sansa and Arya watched with wide eyes as Jacob began to shift into his full dragon form. His human frame expanded and transformed. Horns grew from his head. Black scales spread across his body. He grew and grew until a thirty-meter black dragon with a sixty-meter wingspan stood before them.
He raised his head and let out a deafening roar—a sound they felt in their bodies before they heard it. The ground trembled beneath them.
Arya stumbled back and fell to the ground, staring at Jacob in shock. Even though he was restraining his aura, what leaked out was still overwhelming for her.
But Sansa wasn't scared. She felt something else entirely—she felt stronger. She took a step toward Jacob, then another, until she stood just three meters away, looking up at his massive frame.
Jacob lowered his massive head toward her. She reached out and touched the hard, smooth surface of a scale on his snout. It was warm. She traced its edge, then curiously touched one of his fangs.
"So," she said softly, "when you said you were going to show me a dragon, you were talking about yourself."
Jacob's deep, monstrous voice rumbled. "Yes. I'm a dragon."
Arya gathered her courage, walked to Sansa's side, and hesitated.
Jacob's voice was gentle despite its depth. "Go ahead. Touch me if you want. I won't eat you."
Arya touched his scales and smiled. "I've dreamed of seeing a dragon for as long as I can remember."
Jacob asked, "So, what do you think? Are you disappointed?"
Arya shook her head. "No. You're everything I imagined and more. I can't stop my body from shaking, even though I know you won't hurt me." She looked at her sister. "But why aren't you afraid of him?"
Sansa smiled. "He's my husband."
Arya shook her head helplessly. "Lovesick fool." Then she turned to Jacob excitedly. "Can I ride you?"
Sansa suddenly stiffened. "No!"
Arya frowned. "Why? It's not like I'm trying to take him away from you. We could both ride him."
Sansa's cheeks flushed. "No, that's not it." She hesitated, then added, "You just can't ride him. Or let him ride you. You're too young for that."
Arya looked confused. "What are you even talking about?"
Sansa's face burned. "J-just trust me. Stay away from him." She turned to Jacob and glared. "I was wondering why you said a dragon could… ride me… and why you were laughing yesterday. Now I understand, you pervert."
Jacob's deep laughter rumbled through the air. "I didn't lie, did I?" He burst out laughing—his voice so deep and loud it shook the ground. His massive body collapsed onto its side, and he pounded the earth with his hand, creating a crater. Sansa grabbed Arya and leaped away, landing far from him as he writhed with laughter.
She shook her head helplessly.
When Jacob finally composed himself, he wrapped Sansa and Arya in his telekinesis and lifted them onto his massive back. Then he took off, flying high into the sky.
Sansa and Arya both enjoyed the flight. Arya screamed with excitement. "We flew on a carpet from Braavos to Moat Cailin, but this is much more exciting! Much better!"
Jacob flew for a while, then turned back toward Moat Cailin.
---
On the roof of a crumbling tower in the abandoned fortress, Brienne and Podrick kept watch, scanning both the northern and southern roads.
Podrick suddenly began to shake. His eyes went wide, fixed on something in the eastern sky.
Brienne frowned. "Hey, what's wrong with you?"
Podrick didn't answer. He just pointed a trembling hand toward the sky.
Brienne followed his gaze—and froze.
"That's… that's a dragon," she breathed. "And it's coming straight for us."
She grabbed Podrick's arm. "Let's go."
Podrick stammered, "I-its… too… l-late… it's already h-here… and it s-saw us."
Brienne looked back. The massive black dragon was only a few meters away, its red eyes fixed on them. She tried to draw her sword, but her body was shaking, and her hand wouldn't obey.
She sighed. "We're dead."
Then, in front of their shocked eyes, Sansa and Arya appeared above the dragon's head and jumped down beside them.
Even more shocking—the massive dragon began to shrink, transforming until a naked man hovered in the air.
Brienne's jaw dropped. "Your Grace?"
Jacob disappeared and reappeared behind Sansa, winking at Brienne. "Good afternoon." He hugged Sansa from behind. "Let's go change our clothes." Then he vanished again with Sansa.
Brienne finally found her voice. She turned to Arya. "Can you help me understand what I just saw?"
Arya shrugged. "Remember when Jacob said that people from where he's from can shift into animals? Well, he has that ability too. He can shift into a dragon." She turned and started walking. "Let's go. It's time for lunch."
Brienne sighed. "Podrick, let's go."
They followed Arya.
---
When they reached the capsule house, Jacob and Sansa came outside.
Jacob had changed into his noble Westerosi outfit—dark leather and fine fabric, with his sword Griffin at his waist.
Sansa wore a dark blue Westerosi gown. At the center of her chest, a circular sigil showed a fierce dragon's head with glowing red eyes, giving off a subtle, fiery glow.
Brienne smiled at her. "You look beautiful, my lady. I suppose I should call you 'Your Grace' from now on."
Sansa smiled happily. "Thank you. And you can call me Sansa when there are no outsiders."
Brienne shook her head. "No. I should call you 'Your Grace.'"
Sansa nodded. "As you wish."
Jacob clapped his hands. "Alright. I need to go somewhere. I'll be back tomorrow or the day after."
Sansa asked, "Where are you going?"
Jacob smiled. "I'm going to bring you a gift."
Sansa shook her head. "No. I don't need any more gifts. You've already given me enough for a lifetime. I don't even think I deserve what you've given me."
Jacob caught her hand. "You are my wife. There is no gift you don't deserve. Remember that."
He turned to Brienne, pulled out a Mirakuru vial, and handed it to her along with a silver knight's outfit bearing his sigil.
"Go inside the bathroom and drink this. It will make you as strong as Arya. Then wear these clothes—they're enchanted and cannot be penetrated by normal weapons."
Brienne took the vial and clothes like they were treasures. Remembering Jacob disliked kneeling, she didn't know what to do and simply said sincerely, "Thank you, Your Grace. I will serve your house until I die. I swear it."
Jacob smiled. "You're welcome. From now on, if you want to greet me, you can give me a salute—like this."
He demonstrated. "This is a formal gesture used to display respect, honor, or greeting where I'm from."
Brienne returned the salute. "I understand, Your Grace."
Jacob turned to Podrick. He pulled a camping tent from his pocket dimension and set it up not far from the house. Then he handed Podrick food and drinks.
"Work hard, and I will reward you. You're a man, so you can't stay inside the house. This tent is yours. I've given you enough food to last two days. If you need more, ask Sansa."
He pulled out a large amount of raw Sea King meat and Sker Buffalo meat from his pocket dimension and tossed some to the three giant lizard-lions. Then he looked at Sansa. "Store this meat in your ring and feed my three pets until I come back."
Sansa stored the meat in her ring.
Jacob kissed her. "Alright, I'm leaving. Remember—you can always talk to me if something happens. I'll show up immediately."
Sansa nodded. "Be safe. Come back soon."
Jacob used his telekinesis to lift off the ground, soaring into the sky. He pulled out Jack Sparrow's compass and thought of King's Landing.
The compass pointed south. Jacob flew in that direction at high speed, using telekinesis and lightning.
Chapter 185: King's Landing
May 16
Meanwhile, in the Teen Wolf World – A Few Minutes Before Sansa Became One of Jacob's Wives
Beacon Hills – Jacob's Mansion
Lydia, Allison, Malia, Melissa, and Kitty were having lunch in the kitchen while Cogman served them. Lydia, Allison, and Melissa chatted quietly. Kitty ate with focused determination. Malia lay slumped across the table, absently pushing food around her plate.
Melissa looked at Malia, rubbed her head gently, and said, "We all miss him, but you have to eat something, Malia. You haven't eaten anything all day."
Malia didn't lift her head. "I don't like how I'm feeling. Especially when I woke up today. I feel like part of me is missing."
Allison set down her fork. "We all feel the same. But he'll be back soon. Besides, it's only been three days."
Malia sighed. "It feels like three years. And he said he'd be gone for a whole month. That's way too much time without him. And I hate going to Serendell because time there moves too slow."
Lydia pushed a piece of meat around her plate. "We all hate going to Serendell after he left. To be honest, I didn't sleep much last night. I kept thinking about him. Is he hungry? Is he cold? Is he alone? Is he safe? Or did he find a new woman—or several women—and is enjoying himself while forgetting about us?"
Melissa gave her a patient smile. "Well, he's definitely not hungry or cold. And from our connection to him, we all know he's safe. As for whether he found a woman or not—who knows? But he will never forget about us. He'll be back. You girls just need to be a little patient. Go shopping. Play video games. Or how about we travel—go to Europe or something?"
Lydia perked up slightly. "That sounds like a good idea. Let's travel tomorrow."
Allison smiled. "Let's go to Europe and spend a few days in Venice. Then let's go to Japan. I've always wanted to visit ever since I started watching anime."
Melissa nodded. "And maybe we can go on a safari in Africa. What do you think, Malia?"
Malia shrugged. "That's fine, I guess. I'll join you."
Melissa patted her back. "Then eat your food, and let's get ready to travel."
They all began eating, chatting about their upcoming trip—but suddenly, all four of them froze. Their forks clattered against plates. They felt it: a new connection. A new wife.
Malia's eyes glowed golden. A low growl rumbled in her throat.
Kitty looked up, startled. "Hey! What's wrong with you? You scared me."
Malia's voice was tight. "Jay just added a new wife to the family."
Kitty's eyes widened. "Really? He's only been gone for three days."
Melissa sighed. "Calm down, Malia. We all know what he is."
Malia's growl deepened. "I don't care about him getting more wives. I'd even help him kidnap any girl he likes. But the least he can do is take us with him—not leave us behind, thinking about him day and night, while he's out there enjoying himself." She clenched her fists. "I'm going to beat his ass when he comes back."
Lydia's face was flushed with anger. "From now on, he's not allowed to go to a new world alone. He'll take us with him. Or if he wants to explore a new world first, he'll go for only a few hours and come back for us." She crossed her arms. "He will definitely pay for leaving us behind when he returns."
Cogman tilted his head thoughtfully. "I wonder what my new lady is like. I hope she likes to fight and kill like Lady Malia. Or a sadistic woman who enjoys torturing people."
Allison glared at him. "Cogman, shut up. Go book us a flight to Europe for tomorrow."
Cogman straightened. "We don't need that, my lady. I purchased a private jet for sir's birthday, but I thought he would prefer the Cybertronian robots, so I never told him. The jet is at the airport. We simply need to obtain the necessary international permits and submit a flight plan, and we will be ready to take off."
Allison waved a hand. "Then go do that. And stop standing there like an idiot."
Cogman saw that Allison was not in a good mood and wisely left the kitchen without another word.
Allison turned to Malia. "How about we go spar? I need to do something to stop thinking about that idiot having fun with another woman while we're here missing him and worrying about him."
Malia stood. "Okay. Let's go."
They both teleported to Serendell and began a serious sparring session, using their full strength.
Kitty finished her food in a few quick bites and followed them.
Lydia looked at Melissa. "Aren't you upset?"
Melissa shook her head. "Not really. I miss him terribly, but I think he's allowed to have some fun." A small smile crossed her lips. "But I will teach him a lesson if he doesn't come back after a month."
Lydia smirked. "When he comes back, I'm going to make him watch several romantic movies with me. And take me shopping for a whole day. And also take me shopping in the new world too." She leaned back, thoughtful. "I wonder what our new sister is like. Is she someone from a show or a movie we've seen? Is she old or young? What kind of personality does she have?" A genuine smile appeared. "I'm actually looking forward to meeting her."
Melissa nodded. "Me too. I want to know who she is." She stood. "Now, let's go plan our trip."
Lydia jumped up excitedly. "Oh, yes! Let's go!"
They moved to the living room, pulled out their phones, and began planning where to visit, what fun activities to do, where to eat, and most importantly, where to shop.
---
Back in the Game of Thrones World
Jacob had already arrived above King's Landing.
He pulled a long, hooded cloak from his pocket dimension and wrapped it around himself to avoid attracting too much attention. Then he teleported from the sky down to the streets of King's Landing and began walking.
The city was overwhelming. The stench hit him first—a thick, sour mix of sweat, garbage, human waste, and something rotting. He wrinkled his nose and kept to the cleaner streets, steering clear of alleyways where the smell was worse.
'Flea Bottom must be unbearable,' he thought, remembering the name from the show.
He passed the Street of Steel, where blacksmiths hammered swords and armor. He passed the Street of Silk, where women in colorful dresses called to him from balconies. He passed the Great Sept of Baelor, its crystal dome glinting in the afternoon sun.
The richer neighborhoods were cleaner—wider streets, fewer puddles of filth, more guards in golden cloaks. But even here, the smell of the city clung to everything, faint but persistent.
'King's Landing stinks,' Jacob concluded. 'It stinks of piss, shit, and desperation.'
After finishing his tour, Jacob snuck into the Red Keep. He found a secluded corner of the castle gardens, hidden behind a hedge of roses, and sat down. A system window had appeared the moment he arrived in the city.
[Location Sign-In Available
Sign-in location: The underground storage chamber of the Red Keep, where the skull of Balerion the Black Dread—alongside eighteen other Targaryen dragon skulls—is located.]
Jacob dismissed the notification and thought, 'Allison and the others definitely felt the connection to Sansa. I should go back home after I return to Moat Cailin and talk to them. If I stay here for a whole month, that will only make things worse. Besides, I already miss them terribly. I can't stay away for a whole month.' He paused. 'But before that, I need gifts. I already got a bow for Allison. Lydia will probably love the enchanted Westerosi clothes. Maybe Malia will like the three lizard-lions. As for Melissa… let's hope I get something good from the location sign-in.'
He looked at the Red Keep and activated his X-ray vision. Guards patrolled the hallways, stood at every entrance, watched from every tower.
'Too many guards to sneak in without being noticed. Let's avoid unnecessary trouble for now and teleport directly to the underground storage chamber,' he thought.
He scanned the underground levels until he found the storage chamber with the dragon skulls. It was empty—no guards inside or nearby.
Jacob teleported directly into the chamber.
He stood before a massive skull.
'This is Balerion the Black Dread's skull,' Jacob thought. 'That thing was enormous. Even in my dragon form, I'm not even a third of its size.'
He walked around it, studying the empty eye sockets, the rows of dagger-like teeth, the sheer scale of the creature that had once ridden the skies of Westeros.
After a long moment, he addressed the system. 'System, sign in.'
[Location Sign-In Successful. Rewards Obtained:
1️⃣ Fire Element Crystal: Awakens Fire element upon consumption.
2️⃣ Wyvern Eggs x10: Hatches wyverns loyal to you and your wives. It is best to let each wife hatch her own egg by dropping her blood on it—that way, the wyvern will gain some of her powers.
3️⃣ Enhanced Luke Cage Serum (Marvel) x20: A serum with no side effects. Grants complete immunity to fire at any temperature, from any source—magical or mundane. The user's skin, muscle, and bones become as strong as titanium steel, rendering them immune to conventional firearms and bladed weapons. (Enchanted bullets and enchanted blades can still penetrate.) The serum also provides superhuman strength with a lifting capacity of 50 tons, as well as accelerated cellular healing.]
Jacob read the first reward and smiled. 'Nice. Lydia would love this Fire Element Crystal.'
He read the second reward and nodded approvingly. 'That's a good reward too. I'll have my own small army of wyverns, and they can breed and multiply. I can't wait to hatch my own wyvern. And with these eggs, I don't have to worry about gifts for the girls anymore. I'm sure they'll love baby wyverns.'
Then he read the third reward and asked, 'System, can you tell me how this Enhanced Luke Cage Serum compares to the Hulk serum?'
[The superhuman strength and supernatural healing granted by the Hulk serum after consumption are far superior to the Luke Cage serum. However, the Luke Cage serum grants immunity to fire and superior skin defense—the Hulk serum only makes the skin impenetrable to small-caliber weapons. You can give it to your wives to drink. As for you, you do not need it. Your human skin already protects you even against weak enchanted weapons, and your dragon scales provide even greater defense.]
'I see. I'll give it to the girls when I return.'
Jacob looked at Balerion's skull and smirked. "It's a shame to leave you here gathering dust. I'll take you to decorate the garden in front of the palace in Serendell."
He placed a hand on the giant skull and stored it in his pocket dimension.
He took seven other large skulls—not as massive as Balerion's, but still enormous. The smallest among them was larger than Daenerys's largest dragon, Drogon, at the end of the show.
When he finished, Jacob used his X-ray vision to locate the Royal Treasury. He teleported inside, intending to plunder the Lannister gold.
The treasury was vast—but the chests were empty. Not a single coin remained.
Jacob spat on the ground. "What a disappointment. These bastards are broke."
He used his X-ray vision again and located the Great Hall of the Red Keep—where the Iron Throne sat.
He teleported directly from the underground chamber to the empty Great Hall. The hall was vast and cold, its high ceiling lost in shadow. Tapestries depicting Lannister victories hung on the walls. And at the far end, on a raised dais, sat the Iron Throne.
Jacob walked to it, climbed the steps, and sat down.
He shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. He couldn't.
He sighed. "This thing is uncomfortable."
He addressed the system. 'How come you didn't give me a location sign-in for this room? Or a quest to sit on the Iron Throne?'
[Do not be greedy, Host. You already received a location sign-in. Perhaps another time. And if you want a quest to sit on the Iron Throne, it will not be simply sitting as you are doing now. You would need to become the new king of the Seven Kingdoms.]
Jacob sighed again. 'Fine.'
He removed his cloak and stored it back in his pocket dimension. Then he pulled out his phone, took a few selfies with the Iron Throne in the background, and put it back in his pocket dimension.
'Time to grab that bastard knight and head back to Moat Cailin.'
Chapter 186: The Small Council
May 18
Jacob sat on the Iron Throne, leaning back with his legs crossed, and activated his X-ray vision. He scanned through the stone walls of the Great Hall, past corridors and chambers, until his eyes landed on the Small Council Chamber.
Cersei Lannister stood near a window, her golden hair catching the afternoon light. She was speaking to Mace Tyrell, who sat at the council table with a puffed chest and a foolish smile. Grand Maester Pycelle hunched in his seat, playing frail as always. And on another seat sat a thin man in dark robes—Qyburn, Cersei's loyal lackey, the disgraced former maester who had taken Varys's place as Master of Whisperers.
But Jacob wasn't interested in any of them.
His eyes locked onto the man standing in the shadows of the chamber. Tall. Blonde. Grim-faced. Wearing the golden-bronze armor of the Kingsguard, with a golden helm tucked under his arm.
Ser Meryn Trant.
Jacob smiled.
He teleported from the Iron Throne directly into the shadows of the Small Council Chamber, leaning against the cold stone wall with his arms crossed. No one noticed him. No one sensed him. He was a ghost in the corner, listening.
---
Cersei turned from the window, her voice smooth and commanding. "We must send an envoy to the Iron Bank. Someone of importance to show these bankers our respect." She looked directly at Mace Tyrell. "As the King's Master of Coin, I can think of no one more qualified."
Mace Tyrell swelled with pride. He placed a hand on his chest and beamed. "I would be honored, Your Grace."
Cersei's lips curled into a smirk. "The King has expressed concern about his good-father's safety on this voyage. He's ordered Ser Meryn to personally lead your escort."
Meryn Trant stepped forward from the shadows, his golden armor clanking with each step. He stopped beside Cersei, his face expressionless.
Mace Tyrell looked at the Kingsguard knight, then back at Cersei, his smile faltering slightly. "A member of the Kingsguard? Please, I..."
"Safe travels, Lord Tyrell," Cersei cut him off, her tone final.
Mace Tyrell hesitated, then recovered his smile. He stood and adjusted his robes. "Of course, of course. I'll give your regards to the Titan of Braavos."
Jacob stepped out of the shadows. His boots clicked against the stone floor. Everyone turned. They saw him.
Jacob smiled—polite, pleasant, entirely out of place. "I'm afraid you won't be able to go to Braavos."
Mace Tyrell squinted at him. "Why not? And who are you, boy?"
Jacob's smile didn't waver as he looked at Mace Tyrell. "Not you, old fool. I wasn't talking to you." His gaze shifted to Meryn Trant, and his smile turned sharp. "I was talking about him."
Cersei backed away slowly, her eyes fixed on Jacob. Qyburn rose from his chair and moved to stand beside her, his expression curious rather than frightened.
Meryn Trant drew his sword and stepped in front of Cersei. "Who are you? And how did you get past the guards?"
Jacob tilted his head. "I'm your worst nightmare, you bastard." His voice dropped, cold and quiet. "You hit my wife. You humiliated her. And now you're going to pay for it."
Meryn Trant laughed—a short, ugly sound. "Which whore is your wife? I meet a lot of whores every night. I can't remember them the next day." He grinned, showing teeth. "But maybe if you tell me her name, I might remember her."
Jacob didn't get angry.
He laughed.
It started as a chuckle, then grew into something louder—manic, unhinged, echoing off the stone walls. He walked toward Meryn Trant slowly, each step deliberate, and stopped a few feet away.
The laughter stopped.
"That was a good comeback," Jacob said, almost admiringly. "I'll give you that."
His smile faded.
The temperature in the room rose. The air grew thick, heavy. Everyone began to sweat. Grand Maester Pycelle wiped his brow with a trembling hand. Mace Tyrell tugged at his collar. Even Qyburn shifted uncomfortably.
Then they felt it.
Not heat. Not pressure.
Terror.
It pressed down on their chests like a giant hand squeezing their hearts. Their breaths came short. Their legs weakened. Cersei grabbed the back of a chair to steady herself.
Jacob's voice was low and deadly. "But as funny as that was... you shouldn't have said it." He took another step forward. "I already hated your guts. But I was just going to take you back to my wife and her sister so they could deal with you." Another step. "Now, I've changed my mind."
Meryn Trant's hand tightened on his sword. His heart pounded against his ribs. Every step Jacob took sounded like a drumbeat of doom.
When Jacob was only a meter away, Meryn Trant gathered all his courage and swung his sword.
The blade arced toward Jacob's neck.
To everyone's shock, Jacob caught the blade with his bare hand and shattered it like glass. His hand didn't stop—it continued through the broken blade and closed around Meryn's throat.
He lifted the Kingsguard knight off the ground.
Meryn Trant's eyes bulged. His legs kicked uselessly in the air.
Jacob slammed him onto the stone floor on his back. The impact knocked the air out of his lungs.
Jacob stepped on Meryn Trant's right arm. The bone snapped like a dry twig. Meryn screamed. Jacob stepped on his left arm. Another snap. Another scream. He stepped on his right leg. Then his left. Bones cracked. Meryn Trant howled.
Jacob tore the golden chest plate from Meryn's chest like it was paper. The metal screeched and folded in his hands. He tossed it aside.
Then he pressed his thumbs against Meryn Trant's rib cage and began breaking them. One by one.
Crack. Crack. Crack. Crack.
Meryn Trant's screams filled the chamber. High. Wet. Desperate.
Cersei and others watched in horror.
Grand Maester Pycelle, who usually pretended to be a frail, doddering old man, shot to his feet and scrambled toward the door.
Jacob didn't stop breaking ribs. "Old man," he said casually, "take one more step, and you'll be next."
Grand Maester Pycelle froze. He swallowed hard and didn't dare move.
Jacob finished breaking Meryn Trant's ribs. Then he started punching his face.
The first punch broke his nose. Blood sprayed across the floor. The second punch split his lip. The third punch caved in his cheekbone. Meryn Trant's face became a bloody, unrecognizable mess.
He lost consciousness.
Jacob zapped him with a bolt of electricity from his fingertips.
Meryn Trant woke up screaming.
Jacob stood up and stomped on his groin.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Crunch.
Meryn Trant's testicles shattered. His pelvis cracked. He screamed until his voice gave out, then he kept screaming silently, mouth open, tears and blood streaming down his ruined face.
He lost consciousness again.
Jacob stepped back. He waved his hand. White light enveloped Meryn Trant's broken body. Bones knitted. Flesh mended. Cuts sealed. Within seconds, he was whole again.
Meryn Trant sat up, gasping. He patted his face, his chest, his arms. All healed. If not for the blood soaking his clothes and pooling on the floor, he might have thought it was all a bad dream.
Jacob smirked. "Ready for round two?"
Meryn Trant's eyes went wide with primal terror. "NOOOOO!"
Jacob didn't listen.
He beat Meryn Trant half to death again. Broke his arms. Shattered his knees. Crushed his ribs. Stomped his groin.
Healed him.
Beat him again.
Healed him.
Beat him again.
Meryn Trant lost count. He lost track of time. He lost his sanity.
Finally, Jacob stopped. He healed Meryn Trant one last time.
Meryn sat on the floor, covered in blood, staring up at Jacob with hollow, broken eyes. He began crawling backward, his hands slipping in the blood.
"Please," he whimpered. "Please… just kill me. Please…"
Jacob walked toward him.
Meryn Trant started crying. "No… no… no… no, no, no, please… don't come near me… you demon… please…"
Jacob slapped him across the face—once, hard—and Meryn's eyes rolled back. He collapsed, unconscious.
Jacob turned to face Cersei and the others.
His face was splattered with Meryn's blood. His clothes were clean—enchanted, after all—but his skin was painted red. He waved his hand over himself, and a white light swept across his body. The blood vanished, leaving him spotless.
He gave them a gentle smile. "Sorry you had to see that. I just hate it when someone disrespects my family."
Grand Maester Pycelle and Mace Tyrell scrambled behind Cersei, using her as a shield. Qyburn stood his ground but his hands were trembling.
Cersei forced herself to stand straight. Her voice was steady, but Jacob could hear her heart hammering in her chest. "Who are you, sorcerer?"
Jacob shook his head. "No. I'm not a sorcerer. And you'll hear my name soon enough." He tilted his head. "You can relax. Although we are enemies, I'm not here for you today. I'm only here for this pig, Meryn."
Qyburn stepped forward slightly. His eyes studied the sigil on Jacob's chest—the black dragon's head with burning red eyes on a crimson field.
"That sigil," Qyburn said. "I've never seen it before. Are you related to the Targaryens?"
Jacob smirked. "No." He paused. "Not yet, at least."
Cersei's voice was tight. "Are you aiming for the Iron Throne? Is that why we are enemies?"
Jacob walked toward her.
She didn't back away. She was terrified—but she stood her ground and looked up into his eyes.
He stopped inches from her, close enough to count the freckles on her nose. He could hear her heartbeat. He could smell her fear.
He looked her up and down, then met her eyes.
"You must have been a beauty when you were young," he said. Then he shook his head. "Too bad. You're an evil woman and an incestuous bitch."
Cersei said nothing. She just stared at him, her face pale, her lips pressed together. She didn't dare show anger.
Jacob walked past her to the window behind the council table. He looked out at the city—at the rooftops and the distant sea.
Grand Maester Pycelle and Mace Tyrell, who had been hiding behind Cersei, dropped to the floor and began crawling away from him on their hands and knees.
Jacob ignored them.
"As for why we are enemies," he said, still looking out the window, "it's because you are the enemy of my wife. And you can never make peace with her. You hurt her too much. You hurt her family too much."
Cersei's mind raced. She thought through every possible candidate. Every noble house. Every surviving daughter.
"Who is your wife?" she asked.
Jacob turned from the window and walked toward Meryn Trant. He paused beside her.
"You're a smart woman," he said. "I'm sure you've already guessed."
He walked past her, and grabbed Meryn Trant by the ankle.
"My wife said that your daughter and Tommen were very kind to her." His voice was quieter now. "So let me give you a piece of advice. Save Myrcella as soon as possible. Ellaria Sand will definitely try to kill her." He glanced back at her. "And you'd better send an army. One man can't save her."
He was about to teleport—but stopped.
'I shouldn't teleport in front of them,' he thought. 'I want them to think they have a chance against me. Maybe they'll even send a few assassins after me. That could be fun.'
He dragged Meryn Trant out of the chamber and into the corridor. Guards rushed toward him, swords drawn.
Jacob didn't even look at them. He waved his hand, and telekinetic force slammed them against the stone walls. Their heads cracked against the rock. They slumped to the ground, unconscious.
Jacob teleported out of King's Landing.