There’s one thing Harry knows for absolute certain. This is no time for half-measures. And so, to start out with, he goes ahead and begins to consolidate his newfound forces. The Valarjar are, of course, eager to submit. Every last one of them wants to serve him, wants to be with him as much as they possibly can.
 
Meanwhile, with Eyir submitting as well, the Valkyra are now his to command. And alongside the Valkyra come Helya’s Helarjar, providing him with quite an army of both living and unliving Vrykul in quite the short time.
 
True to his word, even if it was only a promise that Harry had made to himself, he sends a contingent of Valkyra off to Sylvanas as a sort of Peace Offering. He’s still not going to give in to her whims, and he fully anticipates some sort of confrontation in the future. She needs to be reined in at some point, and Harry expects it will be he who has to do it. He’s going to be the one who stops the Banshee Queen from ending the world, all out of fear of death.
 
For now, though, his hope is that a contingent of Valkyra will provide Sylvanas with the security blanket she needs to not go any further off the deep end. These Val’kyr still answer to him, of course, but they have been told to obey the Banshee Queen’s orders within reason, and if anything happens to Sylvanas while Harry is busy dealing with the rest of the shitshow that is the Broken Isles, then they will happily give of themselves to bring her back.
 
The Banshee Queen will not fall so long as Harry has a say in the matter, and thanks to Sylvanas’ own machinations, he does in fact have a say in the matter at the moment. He has a BIG say in the matter.
 
Even Sylvanas herself seems to understand that, because while the Peace Offering he’s sent is coldly received, it’s not outright rejected. This gives Harry some hope of eventually repairing that bridge, as well as the idea that maybe his and Sylvanas’ ultimate confrontation didn’t have to be violent or bloody or to the death or anything like that.
 
Regardless, with that out of the way, Harry’s next move had to be breaking Odyn’s hold on the remaining Valarjar. With his ‘cock-maidens’ in his service, he fully believe it was only a matter of time and-
 
“Master. We’ve received a message.”
 
Cocking his head to the side, Harry looks over to Eyir and raises a brow.
 
“Oh?”
 
The so-called ‘Goddess’ and titanic watcher blushes under his questioning tone, instinctively rubbing her thighs together as she begins to pant at just having his gaze upon her body. Yeah, she has it bad for him at this point, ever since he completed the accidental binding and took her from Odyn’s control. She has it really bad for him.
 
… But they don’t have time for yet another round of marathon sex. Considering the two of them can go for days, and the Burning Legion is invading Azeroth right this minute, it’s going to have to wait.
 
After a beat of expectantly hoping he’ll make a move, Eyir’s shoulders ultimately slump and she hangs her head in shame.
 
“A-Ah, yes Master. A messenger has come from the Queen of the Tideskorn Vrykul. Queen Bretta is requesting our aid… against her own son, the self-proclaimed God-King Skovald. Skovald has betrayed his people and his world. He has murdered his father and brothers, but worse than that, he has sided with the Burning Legion. His troops are now called the Felsworn, and they threaten to overwhelm Bretta and her Queensguard at Kingsfall Pass.”
 
Eyir’s head lifts as she clears her throat and elaborates a bit more.
 
“The Tideskorn Queen would be an excellent asset to your growing claim over all Vrykul everywhere, both on Azeroth and in the afterlife, my Master.”
 
Yes, Harry could see how that would be the case. And in truth, his assembled forces did need to be tested and tried in true battle. More than that, this Skovald character was obviously an agent of the Legion. They didn’t just hand out help to random fuckers without having plans within plans within plans. If he stopped Skovald and saved Queen Bretta, well then, it would surely disrupt whatever the Legion’s true plan for Stormheim currently was.
 
“… Yes, of course. Ready the troops. Prepare the army. We go to Kingsfall Pass, in order to rescue a Queen in dire need of our aid.”
 
“With pleasure, Master.”
 
As Eyir leaves him to carry out his orders, Harry pauses for a moment, feeling the weight of his recent losses. Jaina and Sylvanas… he still loved them, even now. Was he a fool for that? Or was he simply not willing to let go of his feelings for the two women? One thing was for sure… Harry was done playing games.
 
-x-X-x-
 
The Battle of Kingsfall Pass certainly could have gone one way, a very lopsided way at that, if not for the arrival of Harry and his forces. By the time he and his army arrived, Queen Bretta and her guard were on their last legs. Hounded and pinned down by the Felsworn and their God-King, it was obvious they didn’t have much longer to live.
 
And yet, Queen Bretta was quite the firecracker, because even as the Felsworn pushed her and her Queensguard back, the first thing Harry heard as he winged down over the battlefield was her raised voice, shouting at her son.
 
“FOOLISH BOY! DO YOU THINK YOUR FEL TRICKS WILL SAVE YOU FROM MY WRATH?!”
 
Even in the face of certain defeat, the Vrykul Queen, done up in rose-gold armor that fits her frame quite well, and wielding a sword in one hand and a shield on the other, is in rare form.
 
Of course, just as she says those words, Harry and his army arrive and turn the tide right there on the spot. The Felsworn forces are numerous, damn near uncountable in comparison to Bretta’s own flagging troops. But they are nothing in the face of Harry’s mostly undead army, and as Helarjar and Valkyra take to the field, things change quite fast, as battle is want to do. However, no one living could have foreseen this.
 
Put bluntly, as more of both the Felsworn AND Tideskorn forces fell in battle, they subsequently found themselves raised as either Valarjar or Helarjar, depending on their worthiness. For the Felsworn, this usually meant they came back as Helarjar, cursed to submit to Helya’s indomitable will, and thus obey Harry’s commands to the letter, no matter what they might have preferred.
 
For Bretta’s Queensguard, however, it usually meant immediate ascension to Valarjar, serving under Eyir, who’s… broken mind would immediately begin influencing them, turning them towards the newly founded sisterhood of cock-maidens, despite not even knowing about them yet.
 
Regardless, even for those still standing, the turning tide was obvious for all to see. It was no wonder then, that Queen Bretta soon raised her voice again, once more calling out to her treacherous son.
 
“YOU MAY HAVE MURDERED YOUR FATHER! YOU MAY HAVE MURDERED YOUR BROTHERS! BUT THAT DOES NOT GIVE YOU THE RIGHT TO RULE OUR PEOPLE!”
 
The difference this time is, there’s an audible response. An enraged roar sounds out over the battlefield, even managing to overwhelm the pitched sound of combat and fighting. Harry’s eyes dart towards the roar’s source just in time to see God-King Skovald himself leaping through the air, lunging right for his own mother.
 
Queen Bretta howls her defiance and lifts her shield to meet him, only to have it knocked aside. Harry begins moving in that direction, calling magic to his hands, but before he can reach the two fighting part-giants, Skovald slams his axe down. To her credit, Bretta uses her sword to block the blow… but that in turn leaves her open, as Skovald sinks his fel-infused gauntlet directly through her armor and into her chest.
 
His hand closes around her heart and crushes it in an instant, but to the Vrykul Queen’s credit, she doesn’t immediately die. Sneering at him, the beautiful blonde Tideskorn chokes on her life’s blood, even as she grabs him by his wrist.
 
“You… are no longer… my son…”
 
With a sneering snarl, Skovald yanks his hand back out of his mother’s chest, leaving her to slump down to her knees, already drawing her last breath. However, before he can swing his axe and remove the blonde’s head from her shoulders, Harry is finally able to intervene, blasting into the Vrykul traitor with considerable magic force.
 
Sent pinwheeling across the battlefield, Skovald lets out a shout of pain… but unfortunately, Harry can tell that the Fel Magic the Legion has infused the bastard with has left him more durable than most. What would have splattered any other Vrykul across the battlefield only chars and blackens significant portions of Skovald’s unarmored flesh, and ruins even more of his actual armor. He’s quite literally smoking as he stumbles to his feet a few hundred feet away, looking back at Harry with something akin to honest fear in his eyes.
 
Before Harry can follow it up with another blast or call upon his forces to cut off the would-be God-King’s defeat however, a Legion Portal opens behind Skovald, and he throws himself through. The bastard flees the field like the cowardly, craven scum he is, leaving the rest of his Felsworn to die and be raised as Helarjar.
 
But Harry barely pays any of them any mind. He’s too busy looking back at his latest failure. He’d come here today to save Queen Bretta, but she’d died all the same. How… irritating. Before he can truly begin beating himself up over it however, a hand falls upon his shoulder, glowing and golden.
 
“It’s better this way, Master.”
 
Eyir’s voice comes at barely a whisper, clearly meant for his ears and his ears alone. Harry’s emerald eyes narrow, even as he watches the broken goddess step past him, and up to the dead Queen. Hands coming down on Bretta’s cooling shoulders, Eyir pulls and drags the Queen’s soul right from her form. Gasping even though she no longer needs to breathe, Bretta stares upon Eyir’s face in wonder and awe.
 
“You came… you actually came. I did not think… I did not dare to hope…”
 
Smiling softly, Eyir runs a hand down the Tideskorn Queen’s cheek.
 
“Yes, I came. You called for me, did you not my child?”
 
“I-I did… but I didn’t believe Odyn w-would let you interfere, in truth…”
 
Eyir answers this with a noncommittal hum, even as Harry represses the urge to scoff or snort. The Queen’s words ring true. Odyn would not have allowed Eyir to come to this battlefield, if he were still her Master. Despite being bound to Harry now, the naked truth of things was that Eyir had a lot more freedom to do the things she had always wanted to do. The things she was kept from doing by Odyn’s desire for non-interference.
 
But what good was leaving the mortal races to their own devices when the Burning Legion itself was here to burn the Planet to cinders? Odyn was a fool and a coward, and Harry didn’t know which one he was more of. Sure, thanks to Helya’s curse, Odyn himself couldn’t leave the Halls of Valor. But he could have sent everyone else, instead of keeping his greatest warriors back, instead of dictating how and when Eyir could interact with the world, down to the letter.
 
Bah, in the end it mattered not. Odyn’s power was further curtailed by the day, and while the true enemy was and would always be the Burning Legion, Harry wasn’t going to let that stop him from exacting some justice. Not just for Helya, but for Eyir as well, and for all the others that Odyn had wronged in his bullheaded actions.
 
However, that was for another time. Right now, at least, was about Queen Bretta and her continued chat with Eyir. A glance around them shows the Helarjar have been pulled back down to the depths by Helya at this point. Instead, tis only the Valarjar who remain, as well as the few surviving Tideskorn and Queensguard. There aren’t many of them left though… barely a handful still living at most, surrounded by the ascended forms of their ancestors.
 
Giving the Tideskorn Queen in her grasp a fond smile, Eyir raises her voice so that all might hear her.
 
“I have come to claim you, Queen Bretta! For a stalwart heart and a courageous drive that did not falter, not even in the face of the Burning Legion, I offer you a choice!”
 
A shuddering energy begins to rise up among the Valarjar as they realize what Eyir is doing. Harry too, understands what the titanic watcher is up to.
 
“You may pass on from this realm and take your well-earned place in the Halls of Valor… or you may join me in service to my lord and take vengeance upon your treacherous son!”
 
Of course. Not knowing Eyir’s change in allegiance, Bretta really only had one obvious answer to that, didn’t she?”
 
“I-I accept, my Goddess! Of course, I accept!”
 
Grinning more wickedly now, Eyir slams Bretta back into her own corpse, and with a flash of holy light, ascends the Queen right there on the spot. Her crushed heart reforms and her body heals as she becomes one of the Valarjar right then and there. More than that however, she becomes…
 
“Arise, Queen Bretta of the Tideskorn! Arise and join with us as a new member of the Sisterhood of Cock-maidens!”
 
… Yeah. That.
 
Harry shakes his head ruefully at Eyir’s antics as Bretta just blinks stupidly. The tidal wave of roaring cheers and victorious shouts and happy yells from the Valarjar all around them drown out the confusion she no doubt feels, as well as the confusion of her surviving Queensguard. Perhaps they just heard Eyir wrong?
 
They didn’t, of course. And soon enough, Harry was confident Bretta would learn that firsthand…
 
-x-X-x-
 
The last few weeks had not been kind to the Tideskorn or her Queen. It had just been one hit after the other, really. The Burning Legion had invaded, and that was bad enough, but then they’d turned her own son against her. Skovald had killed his father and his brothers, all for the sake of power to be handed over to his new demonic masters.
 
Bretta had done what she could to assemble an army to stop him, but from the very beginning, she recognized it to be a losing proposition. Some followed her out of respect for tradition and her position, and out of derision over her traitor son’s dishonorable actions, but the vast majority became Felsworn, turning to Skovald and the power he promised, unable to resist the temptation.
 
The Vrykul prized strength, it was true, but that didn’t mean they had to prize strength above honor. Alas, an unfortunate number of them did exactly that.
 
The Tideskorn Queen had always known she wasn’t going to win. She and her forces had been fighting a losing retreat for weeks. Even sending a message off to Eyir begging for help had been a complete shot in the dark. Bretta had been willing to try anything at that point, and so try anything she had.
 
But then it had happened. At the final battle, where she was sure her son would finally cleave her head from her shoulders, reinforcements had arrived. Not just Eyir, but an entire army of risen Vrykul. Strangely enough, it had looked like there were even Helarjar fighting alongside the Valarjar against her son’s Felsworn. And even as Felsworn fell and were raised as even more Helarjar, they continued to fight for Eyir.
 
… Had Odyn somehow made peace with Helya? Was it possible that the threat of the Burning Legion was so great that the two had finally reconciled? It seemed impossible, and yet what other explanation was there? Helya and Eyir’s respective risen Vrykul were working together, for the first time in centuries!
 
… Bretta had still fallen to her son, unfortunately. But it was a warrior’s death, and so nothing to truly despair over in the Queen’s opinion. She had made her last stand, and died on her feet, like a true Queen of the Vrykul. And better yet, with her dying breath she’d been witness to her son being blasted away by some form of magic, sent flying across the battlefield. A glorious sight to be sure, and one that gave her hope even as her vision had gone dark.
 
Except, it hadn’t gone dark for more than a moment before Eyir had pulled her spirit from her corpse for their talk. To say Bretta was in awe that the Val’kyr Goddess had come personally would be an understatement. Truly, the situation was dire… or at least, had changed dramatically since last Bretta had heard of what was going on up top.
 
But when Eyir had made her an offer… well, how could Bretta merely pass on? Her son was apparently still out there, having fled like the coward he was from that show of magic. Given the chance to hunt him down with Eyir’s Blessing, at the Goddess’ side… yes, Bretta would take that opportunity every single time.
 
What was odd was when Eyir named her a ‘cock-maiden’. Maybe Bretta had misheard. Surely, she had misheard… right? It was all so hectic. The battlefield was still crazy, and all that. The Tideskorn Queen MUST have misheard, because surely Eyir’s assembled Valarjar would not have roared their approval quite so loudly for ‘cock-maiden’. Right?
 
Unfortunately, she hadn’t had a chance to ask the Goddess for clarification. They hadn’t gotten much of a chance to speak woman to woman since that moment on the battlefield. Immediately after, Eyir had ordered Bretta to assemble her remaining Tideskorn, the rest of her rebel forces, and follow Eyir and her ascended Valarjar back to her Vault. There, all would be made clear, Eyir had said. There, their next steps would become quite obvious.
 
Bretta had obeyed, of course. She was her Goddess’ servant through and through after all, not least of which because Eyir had come when no one else had. Her shot in the dark had worked, and for that alone, Bretta would follow the Val’kyr Goddess for the rest of her days. The chance to go after her son once more and finally take him down for good… that was just icing on the cake.
 
Still, things begin to get weird, when Bretta finally reaches the Vault of Eyir with the remaining Tideskorn Rebel Forces. Only a handful of the Vrykul with her had actually survived the Battle of Kingsfall Pass, but there were plenty more Tideskorn still spread throughout the region. Gathering them all up had been the work of days, but with Bretta in her newly ascended Valarjar form, and clearly blessed by Eyir herself, it had not been particularly difficult to pull off.
 
She was stronger than ever before, and her authority could not be questioned, not even with Skovald still alive and out there somewhere. The choice was simple… follow Bretta as they’d already been doing or go to her son and beg for scraps of Fel Magic and power after all. They chose Bretta, obviously.
 
However, the Vault of Eyir… it was much changed, since Bretta saw it last. What was once a Vault was now an open area, akin to a palace. It was in fact more of a throne room… and not the sort of throne room that Bretta herself was used to.
 
No, while the Vrykul as a people were far from celibate, and indeed quite eager to spread their seed and propagate their race, the sight that the Risen Queen walks into when she enters the former Vault is still completely unknown to her. Queen Bretta of the Tideskorn has never taken part in a massive orgy before, after all. And that is what is happening before her eyes, right this moment.
 
A huge mass of sweaty Valarjar bodies all moan and writhe before her, covering the floor all the way up to the now-raised dais at the other end of the former Vault. This in and of itself is rather odd but could possibly be explained as Bretta simply not knowing the TRUE nature of Eyir and her Valarjar. It was possible that the Goddess had kept this from her mortal followers.
 
However, where that theory fell apart was what Bretta was witnessing happening at the top of the raised dais, upon a throne of flesh. There, in the center of the dais, a Priestess of Eyir bounces up and down on a HUMAN’s massive, fat cock. As she does so, she moans and cries out in ecstasy.
 
“YES! YES, MASTER! Fuck this lowly priestess’ pussy! Fill me with your Goddess-breaking cock! I belong to you as SHE belongs to you! For the Goddess Eyir! For the Master of Death!”
 
What. The. Fuck?
 
Standing there frozen, staring in abject disbelief, Bretta’s eyes pick up more and more impossibilities. Like the fact that she recognizes the Vrykul woman currently sucking on the human’s engorged balls alongside a raven-haired human woman. It’s Queen Ashildir, from the Legends. But that shouldn’t be possible. None of this should… should be possible.
 
With a grunt, the human man pumps the Priestess of Eyir’s reward directly into her womb. Bretta and every other woman in the former Vault watches as the Vrykul’s belly distends beyond all reasonable sight, making her look like she’s already pregnant just from the sheer size of his load alone.
 
Pushing her off of his cock, letting the Priestess slide down into a pile of moaning Vrykul women who immediately set to work on touching her, pleasuring her, and eating out her reward from her drooling cunt, the human man smiles down… at Eyir specifically. Stood next to Bretta, the Goddess has escorted her in here… and judging from the wide, lurid grin on Eyir’s face, she’s not disturbed by what she sees in the slightest.
 
“Hello, Eyir. Showing our new ally around, are you? Queen Bretta… I hope you and your forces are settling in nicely.”
 
“Master Harry. You don’t need to be so polite. Bretta accepted my offer. She exists solely at YOUR mercy… my Lord.”
 
Bretta’s eyes widen at that, even as Harry rolls his own and lets out an exasperated sigh. But before the Vrykul Queen can question her Goddess’ words, the Val’kyr titanic watcher drops to her hands and knees, beginning to crawl towards Harry like a bitch in heat. This in and of itself would have been bad enough, a horrifying sight that would have left the blonde Tideskorn Queen in quite the tizzy.
 
However, when Eyir drops to her hands and knees, Queen Bretta feels an inexorable weight on her body, forcing HER down to her hands and knees as well. Her ascended Valarjar form has so much more power than she had when she was a mere living mortal. Enough power that she thinks she might be able to take her son on in one-on-one combat, if they had another duel. She might be able to win, even.
 
But the cost of that new power and new strength is that she is Eyir’s creature, through and through. She belongs to her Goddess for the rest of eternity. That in and of itself would not be a problem of course, except that Eyir has clearly been subverted by this human!
 
As she crawls behind her Goddess, Bretta’s mind fights fiercely against the tide of musk that drips from Eyir’s semi-gaping holes. Only now does she get a true look at her Goddess… and what she sees is that Eyir has been disgraced and defiled repeatedly and recently, and clearly used and abused by this human man to his heart’s content.
 
Arriving at the foot of Harry’s throne, Eyir leans back and runs her hands across her body, tearing her armor away from her glowing golden form as if it was an insult to her and there was nothing more, she wanted to do than expose her nudity to her true Master. Bretta finds she’s forced to do the same, shuddering as Harry’s eyes roam across both of their naked tits and the rest of their bodies as well.
 
“My Master, the Battle for Kingsfall Pass was a great success, as you well know. With your assistance, we drove the traitor Skovald from the battlefield. But more than that, with Queen Bretta’s submission, we were able to gather up the rest of the Tideskorn Rebels. Now, your newest cock-maiden has come to show her submission to you, her new Master! May Odyn’s reign be short-lived, and your ascendance assured!”
 
As Bretta and Eyir crawl forward, Ashildir and the human woman move aside, clearly making room for them. The Vrykul Queen wants to say she resists, but she does not. Instead, she finds herself face-to-face with Harry’s massive cock, his member still stiff even now, while Eyir presents her like some sort of prized heifer, or the loot picked up from the latest conquest.
 
“Go on, Bretta. Prove yourself worthy of this second chance. Worship our Master with your tongue.”
 
She wants to fight it. She wants to resist. But she can’t. Not only does his musk fill her nostrils and permeate through her body, this Master of Death’s scent intoxicating in her ascended form, but also… Bretta’s desires war with her pride. On the one hand, she knows who he is now. She remembers seeing him descend from on high with the rest of the forces and turn the battle in their favor.
 
More than that, she knows he was the reason she escaped being decapitated by her own treacherous son. It was HIS magic that blasted Skovald across the field away from her, forcing his retreat.
 
Honor dictates she owes him her life… and her service. Strength dictates he’s strong enough to demand it of her, even if she tries to refuse him. And her pride… her pride has been irreparably damaged ever since the betrayal of her son.
 
And so, Queen Bretta of the Tideskorn lowers her mouth to Harry’s cock, looking up into his emerald eyes as he watches her suck him into her waiting maw, past her lips. Eyir, meanwhile, coos her approval, even as she brings a glowing hand up to wind its way through Bretta’s golden locks.
 
“Good… there’s a good pet.”
 
Reduced from Queen to pet… and yet, it was by decree of her Goddess, so who was Bretta to refuse? Gurgling a little bit, she takes Harry’s cock as deep as she can, marveling at the human’s sheer size. His member is absolutely gargantuan, a true bitch breaker of a prick, and it tickles the back of her throat in no time. He’s bigger than her husband the former King was. Bigger than any lover she’s ever had in her entire life. And considering they were all Vrykul, that’s saying something.
 
Obviously, she pulls back when he hits the back of her throat, preparing to suck only the first half of his cock. But that’s not good enough for her Goddess. That’s not good enough for Eyir, who currently has ahold of Bretta’s hair, but also has ahold of the Vrykul Queen’s very soul.
 
“You can do better than that, Bretta. Don’t falter on me now. Show our Lord your worthiness.”
 
Not waiting for a response, and clearly not expecting Bretta to actually follow her orders on her own, Eyir tightens her grip on Bretta’s blonde braid and slams the ascended Valarjar woman down the cock in front of her, forcing every last inch of it down her esophagus and into her gullet.
 
“GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGKH!!!”
 
Her choking noise is drowned out by the sounds of the rest of the massive orgy taking place in the throne room. Eyir certainly doesn’t care that Bretta can’t breathe, as she uses her grip on the humiliated Tideskorn Queen’s hair to drag her back and forth along the entirety of Harry’s length, forcing her to choke and gag upon his cock again and again as it tickles not just the back of her throat, but the bottom of her gullet with its sheer size.
 
“HULGHK! HULGHK! HULGHK!”
 
No one comes to her aid. No one tries to help her. This… is normal. This is submission to her new Master. Eyes watering, tongue lolling out along the underside of his huge shaft, and jaw creaking from being stretched to the breaking point, Bretta can do nothing but kneel there and take it.
 
And yet, as it continues on, it gets easier. Her choking doesn’t necessarily alleviate, but her throat becomes more and more accustomed to being fucked by her new Master’s cock. Her jaw stops creaking, and she begins to drool as her nostrils flare, taking in his scent straight from the source as her nose is buried in the base of his cock again and again.
 
Bretta’s eyes start to roll back in her head, and she gurgles as she rubs her inner thighs together. His smell is intoxicating. He is… her Master. She is his slave. This is how it must be. This is who she belongs to, now.
 
Shuddering, Bretta groans as she gags. She moans as she chokes. And finally… finally, she is rewarded for her serviced, forced though it may be by Eyir’s hand. With a grunt, Master Harry proceeds to cum down Bretta’s throat. At the start of all of this, she might not have been prepared for it. She would most certainly not have even tried to swallow it all down, let alone succeeded.
 
But as she is now? She swallows. She drinks. She consumes her Master’s cum quite eagerly, and spills barely a drop as a single trail of white, hot seed ends up trickling down the side of her mouth and to her chin. The rest goes right into her belly as Bretta swallows and swallows. The Tideskorn Queen, mother of several sons and wife to her King, reduced to this powerful human mage’s cum guzzler. A travesty from most points of view, but for Bretta… all was how it should be.
 
As Eyir pulls her off of Harry’s cock, the Goddess turns her to face her and smiles, leaning in to lick that thin trail of his seed from Bretta’s cheek and chin. Then, she pulls back and nods in a satisfied fashion.
 
“Good. You are ready.”
 
For a moment, still a little dazed, Bretta doesn’t know what Eyir means. But then, all of the sudden, she understands. Eyir doesn’t have to say anything. She knows exactly what her Goddess wants of her… and to be frank, while she hadn’t even considered the idea before now, she agrees… she wants it too, as soon as possible.
 
“Yesss…”
 
Pulling away from Eyir as the Goddess gleefully lets go of her, Bretta looks up at her Master and licks her lips.
 
“Please, Master. My son Skovald’s existence is a disgrace, a blot on my and my family’s bloodline. I beg of you, breed me well and true. Let me give birth to a better son, to erase Skovald’s despicable existence. A son who will one day rule the Tideskorn… in your name.”
 
Harry sits in silence, but Bretta knows what she must do. She must… present herself. Turning away from him, the Tideskorn Queen bends over, taking up a position of reverse prostration. Naked and trembling, quivering with lust and arousal, Bretta places her forehead atop her palm-down hands and lifts her ass high into the air, revealing her gushing wet cunt to her Master’s eyes.
 
“Please, Master! Please breed this worthless bitch!”
 
That does the trick. He stands from his ‘throne’ and a moment later his hands are on her ass. Human-sized, his hands feel small but altogether incredibly strong as they grip two massive handfuls of her derriere. And then he’s inside of her. His cock, obviously, does not feel ‘human sized’. It doesn’t even feel Vrykul sized.
 
No, his mammoth-like member is beyond anything Bretta has ever experienced before, and she cries out as he drills into her in front of all of his Valarjar. The sweaty mass of bodies has continued to undulate all this time, but as Bretta throws her head back, as the Tideskorn Queen looks out at the gathered lot of them, she realizes they’ve all stopped and looked up to watch her be claimed in this moment.
 
Now… now she truly has joined the ranks of the Cock-maidens.
 
“Thank you, sisters! Thank you, Master! More! Please, more! Make me your cock-maiden! Fill me with your seed!”
 
He was already doing that, of course, but her words definitely made him fuck her a little harder, or so Bretta liked to think.
 
As she’s being so thoroughly plowed silly from behind, Eyir is not idle. Her Goddess kneels in front of Bretta and places her hands on either side of the Tideskorn Queen’s face.
 
“It’s time, Bretta. Call for them.”
 
Once again, Bretta knows exactly what Eyir is saying. As the titanic watcher slips aside, she calls out, crying out in ecstasy even as she calls to her Queensguard.
 
“COME, MY QUEENSGUARD! COME AND JOIN THE SISTERHOOD! COME TO ME!”
 
Through the crowd, entering the Vault, come Queen Bretta’s most loyal warriors. Women one and all, they were her Queensguard, and truly, they were the only reason she’d survived where her husband and sons had not. They’d gotten her out even as Skovald had committed his horrific acts, allowing her the chance to assemble a rebel force and attempt to push back against his Felsworn.
 
Of course, in the end, most of them had paid for their loyalty with their lives. Only three of them remained alive at this point. The rest were like her, ascended as Valarjar. It was the ascended ones who carried in the still-living Queensguard now. Those three still alive struggled against the impossible strength of their sisters.
 
Bretta could see it in their faces, when they beheld what was being done to her. They were shocked, horrified, and appalled. They were just like her. They didn’t understand. Bretta just smiles down at them all, lifting her hands up and spreading her arms wide.
 
“My loyal subjects! As Queen of the Tideskorn, I declare our first loyalty to the Master! To our Lord, Harry Potter!”
 
She’d never heard his last name, and yet somehow, she instinctively knew it all the same.
 
“Bow down, to the Master of Death! He who is beyond even Odyn! He who will deliver us from the Burning Legion and my traitorous son! Bow down and worship him! We are not worthy… but do not fret, for he will MAKE us worthy!”
 
There’s a raucous cry of happiness from the mass of Valarjar surrounding the dais and throne. And also, a cheer from the ascended Queensguard who didn’t make it through that final battle. The three still-living, on the other hand, remain horrified as they watch their Queen get defiled and desecrated, filled and bred right before their eyes.
 
It’s alright though. They’ll understand soon enough. Bretta will make sure of it. For the moment, she lets her hands fall back down to the ground, kneeling there before her Master as he fucks her all the way to completion.
 
Finally, his seed fills her womb and Bretta’s eyes roll back in her head, her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she cums and cums and cums. All is well. All is as it should be.
 
-x-X-x-
 
“No! It’s too big!”
 
“Is that your only complaint, Egryl?! Haha, here we go!”
 
“Oh! Ohhhh~ Nnnghh…”
 
Bretta’s turn has come and gone. Which means that now it’s her Queensguard, both living and ascended, who are getting to go. Of course, those still alive and not directly tied to Eyir and thus the submission she constantly feels towards their Master are a bit more… reluctant to experience the pleasure Harry has to offer.
 
Still, their ascended comrades are more than happy to ‘help them’. Harry is currently surrounded by Bretta’s Queensguard at the moment, and one of the three living is currently impaled upon his cock. His hands reach up to grasp her by the hips, and he proceeds to slide her up and down his shaft like it’s nobody’s business. His strength is beyond them, his might otherworldly, and it’s not long before Egryl, one of Bretta’s most stalwart fighters, is moaning reluctantly while cumming her brains out upon his dick.
 
The other two Queensguard who had survived the attack have already experienced the same, fucked silly and then passed off to the mass of Valarjar women surrounding the throne in order to enjoy their new sisterhood. Cock-maidens, one and all.
 
Bretta, meanwhile, despite being demoted from Queen to pet by her own Goddess, finds herself in a position of privilege all the same. As her Queensguard are fucked by Harry one after the other, taken on this consecrated ground and turned into his fuck dolls, Bretta herself is enjoying her current place quite a lot.
 
Still up on the dais, the former Tideskorn Queen is only a few feet away from the Queensguard and Harry upon his throne. Laid out on a few cushions, she finds herself being entertained, and entertaining in turn, Queen Ashildir and the human woman from before, who’s name she has learned is Lorna Crowley.
 
Apparently, they are two of Master Harry’s most important concubines. Bretta can count herself among their number now as well. And so, their own little threesome is currently taking place separate from the orgy. Instead of being tossed into the sweaty mass of Valarjar like what’s happening to her Queensguard, Bretta is being taken care of by a Vrykul Queen from Legends, and a human woman who supposedly earned the Master’s favor via valiance in battle.
 
Lorna Crowley kneels between Bretta’s spread legs and digs her tongue as deep into the Tideskorn Queen’s creampied cunt as she can get it. Sucking up and slurping seed from her pussy, the human woman is quite good with her tongue, Bretta is forced to admit. She’s going to make her cum again at this rate, having already extracted a couple of orgasms from her in the interim.
 
Meanwhile, Ashildir is holding Bretta from behind, the ancient Vrykul Queen running her hands up and down Bretta’s body, playing with her as though she is not a woman grown and a mother of several dead sons, but instead a maiden in need of training and broadening experience. Which, to be fair, when it comes to getting toyed with by THE Queen Ashildir herself… Bretta is all too happy to be treated like an inexperienced blushing virgin, truth be told.
 
“A-AHHHH! Master! HARDER, MASTER! NNGH! YESSSSS!!!”
 
Over on the throne, Harry goes three for three with the last surviving members of her Queensguard. As he pumps the final living Vrykul full of his seed, she breaks, eyes rolling up in her head, tongue lolling straight out of her mouth in an exact duplication of what Bretta herself had looked like at the end of HER creampie.
 
Pulled off of his cock and pushed off of the dais so she can slide down into the waiting arms of the Valarjar, the living ‘cock-maiden’ just moans, lost in a sea of ascended feminine flesh before Bretta can even blink.
 
At which point, it is the turn of the ascended Queensguard, who have been patient until now. But now that their living sisters are taken care of, they’re all quick to push in close, each as eager as the last to worship their Master directly and be fucked one by one upon his magnificent phallus.
 
As Harry grabs the first of them and begins to fuck them, Bretta smiles at the sight, moaning under Ashildir and Lorna’s ministrations… before letting out a squeak, as Lorna suddenly moves her tongue from Bretta’s cunt to something… decidedly lower down.
 
As the human woman begins rimming her asshole, Bretta stares down at her with wide, disbelieving eyes. The look in Lorna’s own eyes is decidedly mirthful, her gaze flickering with mischief as she quickly gains a cum-mustache from the seed still leaking out of Bretta’s cunt, while at the same time digging her tongue deeper and deeper into Bretta’s ass.
 
Now, as an ascended member of the Valarjar, Bretta doesn’t have that sort of bodily function anymore, so technically it’s not unclean. But it’s still rather odd. Are humans just like this?
 
Before she can ask for Lorna to stop however, Ashildir leans in and whispers in her ear, grabbing hold of her tits and pinching her nipples at the same time, drawing a moan from Bretta’s lips.
 
“You might as well let her have her fun, Bretta. After all, it won’t be long before Master Harry himself comes for your final orifice.”
 
Bretta’s eyes widen at that, her heart thumping in her chest as she imagines it. That massive member, pushing into her back door. No… it would never fit… would it?
 
The more she thinks about it, the more arousing the idea is. Whimpering, Bretta wiggles as Lorna continues to eat her ass in preparation for… for what might come after her Queensguard are finished being bred true by their new Lord and Master.
 
If it’s Harry… then she supposes she’ll just have to endure. He is her Master, after all.
 
-x-X-x-
 
Hours later, Queen Bretta and her Queensguard stumble out of the throne room, leaving the ongoing, never-ending orgy behind them. Once more clad in their armor, they nevertheless look incredibly undignified. Cum stains their hair and faces, and it’s quite obvious from how they’re walking that not only are their bodies drenched in even more seed beneath their armor, but they have also been fucked in every orifice multiple times without mercy and without respite.
 
One might expect them to be looked upon with disdain by your average Tideskorn rebel, but in truth, the Valarjar outside of the former Vault of Eyir have not been idle throughout this period of time. Word has spread… joyous word, of a new Master, a new Lord. Odyn had abandoned them to the Burning Legion and the God-King Skovald.
 
But Master Harry Potter would not do the same. And so, the Queen and her Queensguard, despite their disheveled, cum-soaked visages, are looked upon in reverence and no small amount of jealousy at the blessing they’ve all been given… as Valarjar and living Tideskorn alike look hungry for their Master’s cum.
 
All according to plan, of course. Within the former Vault, within his throne room, Harry sits and smiles, knowing that he’s not only struck a blow to the Legion on this day, but also to Odyn’s powerbase. Slowly but surely, he’s making progress. And when he’s done… his enemies won’t know what hit them.

-x-X-x-

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