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Chapter Text

Catelyn

And who are you, the proud lord said,
that I must bow so low?
Only a cat of a different coat,
that's all the truth I know.
In a coat of gold or a coat of red,
a lion still has claws,
And mine are long and sharp, my lord,
as long and sharp as yours.
And so he spoke, and so he spoke,
that lord of Castamere,
But now the rains weep o'er his hall,
with no one there to hear.
Yes now the rains weep o'er his hall,
and not a soul to hear

"The Rains of Castamere…” Catelyn whispered to herself as a chill ran through her soul and clutched onto her heart. The music played an ominous, dark tune that hummed through the halls of the Twins. Her eyes roamed the room, drinking in her surroundings truly for the first time, taking notice of what was in front of her. Something was wrong...oh so terribly wrong. She took note of how separated and far between Robb's bannermen were to each other, and how some men were too drunk to sit themselves up properly while others seemed to be in perfect mind. In fact, some men even seemed tense, on edge, waiting for...something.

She then faintly heard something, something familiar that sent shivers down her spine.

It was howling.

It was not just any howling of a common Frey mutt. No, It was from Robb's most loyal companion Grey Wind. He was howling in sobering rage and she felt her heart stop.

Any man Grey Wind mislikes is a man I do not want close to you. These wolves are more than wolves, Robb. You must know that. I think perhaps the gods sent them to us. Your father's gods, the old gods of the north.

Her mind began to race faster than the tides of the ocean on a full moon. Her family had learned the history of the lands. The rains of Castamere...A Lannister song of how Tywin Lannister-

Catelyn's eyes widen in fear as her Tully mind came to the horrifying conclusion of what was about to transpire.

The beat of the drum echoed loudly in the room.

She watched as Dacey finished her final dance with her son and king and continued to twirl around the room as gracefully as she did in the battlefield, yet even as she danced, Catelyn saw that her eyes were always trained on Robb, who in turn returned her stare with a small smile and reassuring grin of his own as he held his wife. 

She saw Greatjon loudly cheer as he bested another man in a game of drinking, yet his eyes too would always find their way to her son's, ever vigilant. She knew they were trusted bannermen. The man had been loyal to Robb since Grey Wind had eaten his two fingers, something that should have alarmed him more...it did her at least

She looked up at Roose, and found him looking back at her, a small grin was tugging at the corner's of his lips and she felt herself give into the building anger in her heart. Without another word, Catelyn grabbed the knife to her left and plunged it into the side of Roose Bolton and jumped away from him before relation could be taken.

“Robb!” She screamed in warning to her eldest son, hoping he would hear here.

The Frey men knew they had been outed when they watched the mother of wolves attack Roose and then scream a warning out to her son, and without another word they began their attack. They aimed their crossbow bolts at The Young Wolf, looking to end it quickly and fired at his direction.

Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was dumb luck, but Catelyn watched as her son dove under the closest table, nearly avoiding the crossbow bolt that was flying towards him.

“Traitors!” Robb roared from under the table, and with that howl of rage, the celebration turned into a battlefield between The Freys, Boltons, Starks and every soldier loyal to the true North.

 Arya

At first, Arya had been worried that the Frey guard would not allow them passage into the camp. They knew the feast was going on. They heard the music, yet that man was trying to get them away from the camps. She watched as other Frey men ran past the guard, giddy as children on their name day. Arya though didn’t even notice Sandor turn pale, whispering under his breath “The Rains of Castamere.”

Chaos erupted in the Frey camps as screaming and fighting could be heard all the way to where Arya and the Hound were, and Sandor used this distraction to his advantage.

The Guard had never even seen Sandor’s sword as it cut him down.

Arya used this chaos to get away from The Hound and run into the camp. The ex-Dog of the Lannisters barked at her to return to his side, but she refused to look back. She was so close to her family. Nothing was going to stop her.

Blood and fire.

That was all Arya saw as she ran through the Frey Camp. Seeing men who wore the sigil of her house being slaughtered like dogs. They had been betrayed and caught off guard. Some were fighting back, doing their best to survive, but they were outnumbered. The North was strong though, and she silently prayed to the old Gods that her people would come out alive. 

Howling screamed through the chilling air and Arya followed the sounds of what she knew to be Grey Wind through the trails of blood and bodies.

‘If I find Grey Wind, I find Robb!’ She thought frantically. She needed to get to her brother and mother. No matter what. She would find them or die here. She couldn’t go back! Wouldn’t go back to being a captive!

The Howling leads her to a kennel, but just as Arya is about to run towards it and free her brother’s protector and companion, she is grabbed and held back by The Hound. The burned man is covered in blood, Frey Blood more than likely.

“Yer little shit! Fuck you doing?” The Hound swore at her “This fucking place is a bloodbath!”

Arya slapped Sandor as hard as she can.  Was he that thick-headed? “Help me you fucking bastard and my family will make you rich!” Arya screamed back at him. She didn’t have time to explain, but she knew that gold would motivate the greedy man. Gold motivated almost any man, more than likely it was what motivated this betrayal.

“Fucking cunt.” The Hound muttered under his breath as he chased after the little girl and followed her to a nearby Kennel.

Arya tried to open the door and free Grey Wind, but the latch was too heavy for her to lift. Just like that blasted sword that was too heavy back in King's Landing. She panicked, she saw men coming towards them in the distance, trying her best but only being able to lift it some.

The Hound though reluctantly lifted the latch for her without fucking knowing why the little brat wanted to fetch one of the Frey dogs-

“That’s no fucking dog!” Sandor yelled as Grey Wind lunged out of the Kennel, knocking Arya down and making Sandor back away rapidly. His teeth were bared, eyes filled with madness and bloodlust.

Arya stared at the Direwolf in awe. She hadn’t seen Grey Wind in so long, and he was four times the size of what he had once been. Fear then crept into her as she watched as the larger than life Direwolf stare at her with hate in its eyes.

The giant wolf took a step towards Arya, growling in anger, but instead of attacking her, Grey Wind nuzzled her neck lovingly. Arya held the wolf close, emotions washing over here. She had missed him so much, just as much as she missed Nymeria.

She sent a silent prayer that her own Direwolf was safe and had not met the same Fate as Lady…Sadness washed over as her mind drifted to Lady and then her elder sister. Unspoken guilt would always be in the back of her head till she saw her sister again.

The reunion was short-lived though, Grey Wind lunged passed her and tore the nose off a Frey man before ripping out his throat and mauling the others. Sandor and Arya watched in awe and horror as the wolf made quick work of the Frey’s dogs and 6 soldiers before he ran away and vanished into the chaos. Howling the entire time.

Arya wordlessly got up to follow him. She knew Grey wind would be going to find her brother. All she needed to do was follow the bodies he left behind...

Robb

The hall of the Twins was a bloodbath, loyal men, good men, were falling to the blades of traitors and turncloaks. 

Robin Flint, Patrek Mallister, Wendel Manderly, Owen Norrey, his loyal guards, his brothers in arms, his friends, were all dead.

Even Smalljon Umber had lost his head and lay dead on the Twin's floor.

Greatjon, drunk as he was, fought through the Freys and Boltons, using his rage to kill as many of them as he could. The sounds of skulls cracking, bones snapping, and the tearing of flesh was all Greatjon could hear as he fought for revenge. 

Dacey gracefully avoided an ax to the stomach wielded by Ryman Frey, yet the blade still graced her belly. She managed to wrestle the weapon away from the pudgy man and brought it down between his skull, before twirling around and digging it into Benfey's throat, which caused blood to spray over her and the gown she had been wearing.

Robb looked Talisa’s dead body. The woman he loved. The mother of his unborn child. The woman he had broken his vow to Walder Frey for, lay dead on the floor, her stomach stabbed and brutalized. Talisa wasn't a fighter, she had never even seen Black Walder coming up behind her.

She was a target. He knew they murdered her to feed Walder Frey’s petty and spiteful nature. Killing his unborn child was just to rub salt in the wound and stop any vengeance that could be taken years later if he died. Yet, he refused to fall tonight.

The inferno of rage that burned within him was stronger than a million dragon fires and he would not let it be put out until the late Walder Frey’s blood was on his sword. He didn’t care if he was slain here. Let the Gods take his body if it meant revenge would be his. He would die in battle as a Stark should: Fighting.

Dacey and Greatjon were doing their best to fight alongside their King and defend Catelyn, but they didn’t know how long they could last. They were without armor, outnumbered and fatigue was beginning to set in. SmallJon was dead, as was the rest of his personal guard.

As the battle started to grow worse, Dacey, Greatjon, Catelyn, and Robb found themselves hiding under a table for cover.

“Aye, it looks this may be it,” Dacey said grimly, nursing a wound she had sustained on her side from a battleax. She had luckily been saved from fatal damage but she was injured nonetheless.

Greatjon chugged a nearby drink quick, savoring what might as well be his last drink. “Aye that may be, but let's see if we can give these southorn fucks something to remember us by.”

“Your Grace, ” Dacey started as she looked at Robb. “We will cover you as-”

“You will do no such thing,” Robb said cutting her off. “I doubt outside will be fair us better than here…” He held his mother's hand, “If this is the last day of the North, let it be said we died on our feet fighting.” Robb spoke with pride, choking back his own despair and fear to remain strong to guards. "You both have been with me from the start, now I will be with you at the end."

Dacey and Greatjon nodded, gripping their weapons tightly.

Greatjon beat his chest proudly “King in the North.” Robb forced a bitter chuckle. The man that had once said he was so green that he pissed grass had turned into one of his biggest supporters and was now ready to die for him. Greatjon was a man of many things, but predictable was not one of them. In a way, the gruff older man had become a second father figure to him, and he was grateful for his company now more than ever.

“It has been an honor you grace,” Dacey said looking at her King. His eyes met her's for a brief moment, and he gave her a silent apology. The Mormonts had always been close to House Stark and when he raised the banners, Dacey and her mother had been the 1st ones to declare themselves for House Stark. She didn’t deserve to die for him…No one did. He hoped that Maege Mormont would forgive him one day forgetting her killed.

Robb held his mother close. She had been his rock, his adviser, his everything. His only regret was that she was dragged into his failure. His father must have been looking down at shame at him. Failing to get back his sisters, losing Rickon and Bran.

“I love you, mother.” He said gently as he let some tears escape his eyes. For this moment right now, he let himself be a boy and not a man, not a king, but the young Stark boy who just wanted to go home.

Catelyn sobbed quietly into her son’s arms. She didn’t want to be here, she didn’t want to see her last boy die in front of her eyes. It wasn’t ri-

A loud howl broke everyone’s train of thoughts.

Then the four heard the door being smashed open.

The room went silent, and all turned to see Grey Wind, covered in enemy blood, a scarred man standing in the door frame and a young boy by his side.

Grey Wind howled louder than he had ever done before and the battle began again. The three rushed into battle, aiding what was left of the Stark’s men.

Not wanting to miss out in the action, GreatJon jumped out and ran into the fray to help kill the Freys. Dacey soon followed.

Robb kissed his mother on top of the head and followed his loyal companions. He would lead them to victory, or he’d die by their sides.

The arrival of Grey and the two mysterious fighters had brought new life into the battle, and one by one the Frey soldiers started to fall.

Robb fought without mercy, ripping into the flesh of the Freys with nothing but hatred and rage. Grey Wind and he danced around their opponents, shielding the other from attacks and counter-attacking for the other. The two fought as if they had one mind.

Walder saw he was on the losing side, and cursed. He knew he should have just remained neutral in the dealings of wolves and lions. Just as tried to run away he felt the cold steel of a knife press against his throat.

“You tried to murder my son,” Catelyn whispered coldly into his ear. “On my honor as a Tully…on my honor as a Stark…the the last thing you will ever see is a Stark smiling down at you as you die” She quickly cut his neck to the bone as the rage in her heart finally overtook her.

She watched as the light drained from Walder’s eyes and finally he had become the actual late Walder Frey.

Turning away from the Traitor, Catelyn saw Roose rush at her son. She tried to scream his name, but Roose had already crossed the room and grabbed onto his shoulder.

“The Lannisters send their-”

Roose’s words had been cut off as Robb bit into his jugular as hard as he could and tore it off like he was a Direwolf himself. Blood sprayed all over him as Roose held onto him as he bled out and died. Robb then grabbed Roose's weapon and began to carve chunks of his flesh out again, and again, and again. He didn't stop until he was drenched in the traitor's blood. Not even the man's bastard son would be able to tell that the pile of flesh was once his backstabbing father.

GreatJon had crushed a man underneath his sword as Grey Wind had finished mauling his last victim and the final Frey man.

The small group of survivors turned to look at who had helped them in their hour of need and brought Grey Wind to them. Robb recognized the scarred man as the Lannister’s dog, The Hound, Sandor Cleggane, but the boy, the boy looked so…

“Arya,” Catelyn whispered as she stepped forward, dropping her knife.

Arya looked at her mother, and tears welled up in her eyes. “Mommy!” She screamed, not even caring if she hadn’t called the woman mommy in ages.

Mother and daughter ran towards each other and embraced tightly.

“My sweet child. I had thought you lost.” Catelyn cried as she held her youngest daughter close. She could not tell if she had been the one shaking or Arya, but they were both holding each other afraid that if they parted, the world would take the other away again.

GreatJon helped hold his King up, leading him to the Princess and Queen mother. Grey Wind followed close behind his companion.

Arya wept into her mother’s shoulder till she saw Robb come closer to them. She looked up at her brother, tears in her eyes. “Brother.” She softly said as he looked up at Robb.

Everyone had always assumed she had loved Jon the most out of her siblings, and in a way that was true. He was the black sheep of the Starks and in a way, so was she. That created a bond between the two, yet no one really understood the bond Robb and Arya had. He was always the one to catch her with a bow and arrow in her hand, or fighting with a wooden sword, yet he never said a word. He would just smile gently at her, adjust her form, then keep walking as if he saw nothing. She loved Robb just as much as Jon...she loved all her siblings...Even Sansa. 

“Hello, baby sister.” Robb greeted, a small sad smile on his face. The Gods had given him back his sister, yet the evils of the world had taken away his wife and unborn child...Robb took solace in the fact that he had killed Blackwalder himself. At least avenging his wife.

Arya slowly walked up to her eldest brother, and he knelt to her eye level and the two embraced each other. Hot tears ran down her face as she felt Robb place his forehead against hers and held her small body protectively close to his. Brother and sister were both covered in blood, yet neither cared at this moment.

“When the snows fall and the wind blows,…” Robb whispered to her softly.

Arya cried harder as she realized Robb was quoting their father, "The lone wolf dies, but the pack survives."

Two of the Stark children were together again after so long, and as Catelyn watched her eldest son and youngest daughter embrace each other, she prayed to the gods of old and new that her Ned was watching.

Robb looked back into his sister's eyes and that they were bloodshot from crying and suddenly she became harder to see. It was then he realized his own eyes were beginning to water from tears. He felt his legs give and the King in the North felt to his knees, finally losing his balance.

Arya, Catelyn, and Grey Wind rushed to his side, Dacey and GreatJon stayed close by keeping guard on the family. Robb let out a sobbing roar of rage. He roared as the loss of his wife, his child, his men, and the betrayal of his family. He roared out into the empty hall, tears streaming down his face as he stared at the bodies of the traitors that littered the hall.

Arya and Cat cried with Robb, while Grey Wind’s howls filled the empty hall.

GreatJon was the first to speak up after giving the family a moment. “Your Grace…”

“I know.” Robb said standing up on weak legs, “We must leave this place.”

Catelyn nodded her head somberly. She took Arya’s hand on her own and the small group left. They were not welcome here anymore.

The group started to make their way out, but now before setting fire the Twins as they left. If only they had time to bury their dead...alas. The fire would have to do.

They gathered what little forces they have left. The King’s survival inside had helped the soldier’s survival outside by sheer moral alone. The battle was still raging on, but they knew to get the Royal family out of the chaos was of the utmost importance.

As GreatJon and Dacey helped Arya and Catelyn into a Wagon that the Hound had found, Robb looked at the man gratefully. He would’ve been dead if Arya had not freed Grey Wind in time…Grey Wind would’ve been dead…He wasn’t sure he could have survived losing Grey Wind too. The Direwolf was too much of his own self.

“When this is over, Clegane, I will make you a rich man,” Robb said as he and Grey Wind got into the wagon.

Sandor raised an eyebrow “What did yer have in mind, Young Wolf?” The Hound was genuinely curious.

“Gold of course,” Robb said simply, but then his features turned dark “And after I kill every last Bolton, Frey, and Lannister, you will have your pick of their land. Make yourself Warden of the West if you want. Just as long as it burns first." 

Sandor let out a cynical chuckle but didn’t say a word. Perhaps the Young Wolf had what it took to win this war after all.

As the Wagon rode away, two hundred men followed, while many more stayed behind to battle, laying down their lives for their King. The soldiers surrounded the King, Princess, and the Queen Mother. Grey Wind resting on Robb’s knees, sleeping soundly. Tired from the battle.

Catelyn and Arya were holding onto each other as hard as they could still. Afraid to part. There were tears in both of their eyes, but they were too exhausted to move. Cat kissed Arya’s head. She had one of her girls back. For the first time in what felt like years, she had hope again. That may be…just maybe they could win and could get her Sansa back as well.

Arya was passed out in her mother’s arms. She couldn’t keep her eyes open anymore. She had her brother and mother with her. That was enough for now.

GreatJon stayed awake, ever vigilance for any threats that could befall the family. They would not be harmed as long as he drew breath. He mourned his son silently. Wishing he could have saved him, but his anger kept him strong. He would avenge SmallJon.

Dacey stayed between the Starks, injured, yet willing to lay down her life to keep her King safe. She looked over at Robb, and moved closer to him and his Direwolf, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. She would protect her king to her dying breath. House Mormont knew no king, but the King of the North who’s name was Stark.

Robb Stark would be her King from until his last day…till her last day as well.

Robb looked up at her, weary eyes looked back at hers. Like always, words passed between the two unspoken and he mouthed a "Thank You" her way, which in turn she silently mouthed you’re welcome before slowly dropping her hand away. Fingers lingering close to his before going back to her post.

The Young wolf looked out into the darkness at the slowly retreating Twins. This war was not over yet. The North remembers and he would make sure that winter would come for the traitors to his family.

The Young Wolf, King in the North, Lord of the Trident had survived the Red Wedding.

The She-Wolf, the youngest Stark Princess had been returned to them.

They would make all who betrayed them pay for their crimes. He would show them what it felt like to lose something they loved.

Arya was back with them, now all the needed was Sansa…then he would kill them all.

The Northerners will never forget.

News of the King in the North’s survival of the Red wedding had spread across the realm like wildfire.

No one spoke a word in the small council as Tyrion read aloud the message that had just arrived by a raven.

“The wolves had feasted hardy at the twins! The Northerners had made sure that the Freys were greatly rewarded for their hospitality. During the festivities, the wolves had found their missing pup and a scarred hound. Alas, all good things come to an end, the wolves had left the Twins burning with gratitude. It was unfortunate that the Lions couldn’t make it, but the wolves appreciated that they had sent their regards. They hope to see the Old Lion soon. They mentioned something about getting their Red Wolf back and putting the false Stag’s head on a spike…ah, my memory isn't what it use to be. The North remembers though…they always remember…

Sincerely,

The Late Walder Frey.”

Chapter Text

Kings Landing

Loras Tyrell had to look away from the horrible sight in front of him. He just...couldcan't watch. He had been made a part of the King's Guard, which he was thankful for. It meant that the idea of marriage or being forced to take control over his family would remain with his brother Willas, yet...he couldn't bear to witness this.

"And then they stabbed his whore's belly till they were sure the monster was dead!" Joffrey said with glee and excitement as he had Sansa stand at the top of the Iron Throne as he berated her. He told her in detail about the Red Wedding, the name for the Stark's betrayal at her uncle's wedding. He hadn't known the details of it as much as his grandfather or mother, but he knew enough. He told her about the Stark men being cut down, bannermen tortured and held hostage, his wife's brutal slaughter, even lying that she was raped in front of the bastard Stark just to see the hurt and sadness wash over her face. Finally, he watched as she opened her mouth to speak, voice trembling. 

"And what of my mother and brother, your grace?" She asked, eyes watering as she held herself steady. She didn't want to hear that her family was killed, but she needed to know. When Joffrey's glare darkened, she turned her head away from him, holding herself. 

Joffrey gripped Sansa's face tightly in his hands, staring at her ice blue eyes with his own cold ones. He then sneered, "Your filthy cunt mother and traitor brother escaped. They even found that beast of a sister of yours." He handed Robb's note to Sansa and after she scanned it for a brief moment, he then pushed her down the Iron Throne, watching in amusement as her body hit every step then landed on the ground.

The Tyrells looked away in disgust, cringing at Sansa's broken form on the ground. 

Loras couldn't watch this anymore. He was a knight damn it! This boy would abuse the Stark girl then he expected to marry his sister? By the Gods, no! Loras starred at the boy king with hatred in his eyes. He would not have his sister become another Rhaella Targaryen, to be abused and raped by her husband. He would slay every man in this God-forsaken city before he'd even entertain the thought! 

He gripped his sword tightly and stepped forward, ready to cut down Ilyn Payne then that bastard King. 

Just as he was about to draw his sword, he was stopped by Olena, who gave him a regretful, yet tricky look. She shook her head no, but by the light in her eyes, Loras knew his Grandmother had a plan. Suddenly, laughter was heard throughout the room.

It was from Sansa.

Sansa laid bleeding on the floor from her fall, but she couldn't stop laughing. She laughed and laughed, and kept going until she felt her ribs would burst at the seams. Her eyes were mad, lip busted, blood trailing down the gash on her forehead, yet the girl continued to cackle like she had lost her mind.

Her pack was coming for her! The Wolves were taking her home. 

She looked up at Joffrey, smiling at him truly for the first time in moons. "The Wolves are coming," She spat, words dark and demented. She felt possessed with joy, her tongue was loose and mouth unchained. 

Joffrey stood up from the throne, staring at her in shock as his ill temper began to take hold of him. "What did you say, Stark?!" 

Sansa would not back down though. She had hope. Hope for the first time in forever that her family hadn't forgotten about her! Even if Joffrey killed her, that just meant the Lannisters would lose their only bargaining chip and the hold of the North.

"The wolves are coming for you, false stag" She screamed with a giggle as blood dripped from her drooling mouth, hatred seeping into her voice "They will come for the lion cub who wears the Stag crown and place his head on a spike!"

The room erupted in hushed whispers as they Watched Sansa madly rant at Joffrey as the boy King became visibly enraged but unable to form any words. 

"The North Remembers!" Sansa howled, resembling a wolf as she threw her head back. "The North Remembers! she howled it again and again. 

She didn't care what the people thought.

She didn't care when Joffrey commander her to stop. 

She didn't care when he ordered Ser Meryn Trant to kill her.

And she didn't care when she felt the shameful knight beat her savagely. She laughed and howled the entire time. It took darkness overtaking to make her stop.

The room was silent as they watched Ser Meryn Trant beat Lady Stark's unmoving body. Loras yanked his arm from his grandmother's hold and stepped forward, sword in hand.

Trant stopped his assault and looked up at the new Knight, a scowl on his face. 

The Two starred at each other as Joffrey looked on. Confused, yet interested to see where this was going.

The tense silence was broken by a roar of rage. Tyrion stormed into the room, Bronn behind him, hand on his sword.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Tyrion saw his wife's body lay lifeless on the floor and panic came to his mind as he rushed to her, checking for any signs of life. Luckily the Gods hadn't taken her yet. 

Joffrey squirmed in his throne but did his best to keep a straight face. "I was punishing traitor."  

"You were torturing a defenseless girl!" Tyrion countered in disgust. "Are you truly as mad as the realm thinks you? are" 

"You cannot talk to me that way!" Joffrey screamed back at him. "I am the King! I will-"

"You will do nothing." A new voice said as it entered the room.

Joffrey and Tyrion turned to see Tywin at the entrance of the room. He calmly walked into the throne room, eyeing his family in contempt. 

Tywin looked at Loras' exposed sword then to the flower knight. 

The young man faltered at Tywin's cold stare but did his best to look brave. 

"Tyrion, take Lady Sansa to Grand Maester Pycelle." Tywin ordered, who without another word disappeared from the room with Sansa and Bronn.

He fixed his Grandson a cold look of disgust. It was times like this he cursed Cersei for being unable to control the boy, yet he was the king, and a public reprimand would be bad for the Lannister name. There was, however, option B though...

"Ser Loras Tyrell," Tywin called out to the Flower Knight, eyes not leaving his Grandon.

Loras stepped forward, kneeling to Tywin. "Yes, my lord?"

"Execute Meryn Trant," Tywin commanded coldly, eyes still not leaving Joffrey's. "He has assaulted Lord Tyrion's wife and as such has dishonored the Lannister name and the crowned family."

Meryn Trant looked to Joffrey in fear, pleading to his King, but Joffrey looked away, not forming the courage to speak in front of his Grandfather's piercing stare. 

Smirking to himself in grim satisfaction, Loras quickly decapitated Meryn Trant before the man even knew what was happening. 

Dragonstone

Stannis read the letter multiple times. This had been the second letter he had read that had been from a Stark who was challenging the false king's hold on the throne. He mused it must have been ironic. The Stark boy had done better than the realm expected, surviving and winning where many others would have failed. 

He had lost at BlackWater, and now it was time to plan for his next attack on the throne. His mind wandered to the Young Wolf. Maybe...just maybe the two could broker a deal together. He needed the North to win the war, and Robb Stark was the key. The wolf had shown no desire to hold the throne. Just to have justice for his family.

Stannis could work with Justice...

The Iron Islands 

Asha did not say anything as the letter from the Stark boy sat nearby. She stared into the flames, thinking of her next course of action. Her father was dead, killed under mysterious circumstances. She believed her uncle had a hand in it. Theon had been MIA since her father had ordered him to take Winterfell. She had heard nothing but of it burning. The crown would likely not stand for the Iron Islands declaring its independence once more...

Robb Stark had been close to her brother...maybe they were the tools the other needed. He would want the North back, her brother and an independent Iron Islands...

She grabbed the letter and left the room. She needed to find a ship.

Castle Black 

The Bastard of Winterfell looked out from the walls of Castle Black, Ghost by his side. 

Robb was alive, as was Arya and Lady Catelyn...He had heard the news, read the letter that Robb had sent to everyone who mattered, yet the letter that he had personally got was different. He gripped it tightly in his hand. The letter hadn't been addressed to Jon Snow. 

It was to Jon Stark.

King's Landing

Tywin had an unknown blank expression on his face. He hadn’t looked angry or even bitter about the Young Wolf’s survival.

The Young Wolf had challenged him at every turn and even survived what most men couldn't. Robb Stark was truly the only man in Tywin’s life he would consider a worthy adversary in this war. Stannis would never breed loyal men who would die for him, Renly had been too green, the Greyjoy king was a pretender, yet Robb Stark…Robb Stark was something different. 

The Red Wedding was something that had to be done, and he would do it a million times over again in a million lives, yet as he read the letter again from the King in the North, Tywin couldn't help but feel a sense of relief that he could fight another battle with the Young Wolf.

Tywin drank from his goblet, silently toasting the young wolf on surviving another night. There was a small piece of his brain that wished his Grandson was more like the Stark boy. He wondered if the day would come when he would meet this wolf in person. He would like that. In a way, Robb Stark reminded him of himself. A stronger man than the father before him, trying to protect the family's legacy.

"The King in the North!" Tywin softly cheered to himself as he sat in candlelight. 

Riverrun

Brynden Tully, the Blackfish, looked out into the Riverlands as he heard the faint footsteps of his expected guests finally arrive. 

"Good to see you made it here safe, your grace." The Blackfish said as he watched Robb, Catelyn, Dacey, and GreatJon enter the room.

Robb Stark stepped forward, Grey wind at his side. "I've brought one more mouth to feed."

Arya finally joined her brother in the room, Nymeria right behind her.

The Time of Wolves was coming.

Chapter Text

Catelyn

"The King who lost the North." her son whispered to himself again and again. One of the last words said to Robb by Rickard Karstark. Dark words by a grief-stricken man who had lost his will to live and his sanity, taken by the Kingslaying Lion. She, in a way, understood his grief. A parent should never outlive their offspring. 

Her mind wandered to her own lost, young pups, and as she did every night, Catelyn sobbed to herself quietly. She wished her quiet wolf was here, to hold her, running his hands through her hair that had been kissed by fire, and tell her it would all be okay, but Ned was gone. Taken by the false Stag that sat a bloody throne of swords.  She had lost her husband, and she was still missing one of her daughters, but at least the Gods had returned her young She Wolf, the Red Wolf would be there's again soon. 

Catelyn brushed Arya's hair with her fingers delicately as the girl's head slept on her lap. Ever since she had been returned to them, Arya had refused to leave Catelyn's side. Referring to her as "Mommy and shamelessly hugging her every chance she got. Catelyn didn't mind it though. It made her heart happy to see her youngest girl expressing love for her. In turn, she wouldn't force her daughter to act like a Lady. Ever since arriving at Riverrun many moons ago, she would allow and even encourage Arya to train with her uncle and whoever would have her.

Her thoughts wandered from her youngest daughter to her oldest son again as she watched him silently excuse himself from their company and walk away. He beckoned for Grey Wind to follow and the two left the room. She heard him mutter again to himself. "The King who lost the North."

These were the words her son said to himself every day.

The first as he woke.

The last before he slept.

If he slept. 

She watched as he wandered the halls of Riverrun late at night, Grey Wind following at his heels, never leaving his side, nor did Robb push him away. He had gone against his better judgment and locked him away at the twins. That mistake had almost cost him his life. He would not make that twice. Sometimes she would walk with him, she would not speak, only providing company for her troubled king/son.

Arya would join them as well, yet she would speak a lot, as most children would do who had been without their family for some time, but Robb never seemed to mind. She would speak about her adventures with the Lannister dog, the people she had met, about a strange boy named "Hot-Pie". She didn't truly want to know why the boy was called Hot-Pie. She also spoke of a boy named Gendry. A Blacksmith with hair as black as coal and eyes as blue as the sky, a low born bastard that had been knighted and had joined up with the Brotherhood without Banners. 

The way her daughter talked about the boy she would also imagine her smitten with him. She imagined in another life the idea of her daughter smitten with a bastard blacksmith would cause her mind to be troubled, yet she no longer cared for such trivial things. Her daughter's happiness was more important. 

Her mind traveled away from her daughter to her son. He would act as adjusted as he could, but there would be cracks in his mask of normalcy, she knew her son. The boy she raised was gone. 

Rob was broken. 

His rage and hatred pushed him in the day, yet his grief and regrets punished him at night. It tore him apart. The guilt of Talisa, Theon, his brothers, and his unborn child had had not left her son's mind. She feared that the guilt would never leave him.

Their days at Riverun would go by routine, Catelyn and Robb would send ravens up North, keeping up to date with the other houses. Then Robb would train with Greatjon and run with Grey Wind in the fields. It was different than his training at Winterfell. No, this was training as he had once done in preparation to be a lord one day, no, this was training for the war, and to outclass his enemies. He headed her words and listened to her lectures on politics. He wanted to learn the game of thrones. Not to win it though, to kill Joffrey and the rest of the Lannisters.  The death of all the lions. It was the vow they had made to each other after Ned's death. It was the vow they would uphold. They would get Sansa back, then they would kill them all. 

It was odd being back at her childhood home of Riverrun. She had feared she'd never see it again, yer here was she was. Hopefully, she'd be able to see Winterfell again. She wanted to see the place that had become her true home, where she had raised her children. 

Her nightly routine was different than her sons, yet similar. She would not sleep. Sleep was a luxury that had alluded her for longer than she'd care to admit, so like Robb, she would explore the castle she had been raised in. She would speak with her daughter, with her uncle Brynden, and even Greatjon who she would walk with as he patrolled and kept watch over her family. 

She was surprised to find out that the giant man had a lovely singing voice. 

Even if he could never remember the words he was singing. 

His company was a welcomed one. They would talk about the North, their families, and for some odd reason the time Grey Wind had eaten two of his fingers when he had drawn on her eldest son.

He laughed the hardest at that.

There was a time when she would have scoffed at the idea of spending her evenings talking to such a man, but now? She would have to admit that she greatly enjoyed the company of the Greatjon Umber.

Theon

The Howls of the wind brought fear to his heart as the Kraken struggled to stay on his path, body hungry and fatigued. His feet were heavy, eyes heavier, yet something in him told him to keep moving, that he must keep moving. In the distance, he could see the end of his frozen journey and that hope kept him alive, kept his legs in the motion they needed to go. 

Theon hadn't known how long he had been walking. It had felt like millions of moons had passed since he started his journey, yet as he tasted the frost on his lips as the cold wind blew and saw the imposing wall that sits in the far of view of his vision, he knew he was finally getting closer.

Luwin's word had somehow, someway broken through to him, and against his better judgment, against what he knew the world would think, he abounded Winterfall, and in turn abounded both of his families. Running away like the coward he was and never looking back. He hadn't known what happened after that though. There were rumors of course. That the castle burned, then the princes were slain, burned alive, that their Direwolves had grown the size of the lands itself and swallowed up all the enemies of the Starks before burning it down like a dragon. He...he doubted the last one to be true, but since there had been an entire race of people who rode fire-breathing monsters, he chose not to question the rumors and just move forward. The further he traveled, the fewer stories he heard. Eventually, the rumors of the war of the five kings stop.

Theon was glad for that. 

He didn't want to think of Winterfell, or the Starks, or Pyke, or...Robb. 

The man he called brother once, he wondered what he thought of him now? Would Robb want his head? Had their been a price on it already and he had just luckily avoided it at every turn? He wasn't sure, yet he knew if there was, he would have deserved it. He often wondered if Robb was even still alive. Those thoughts he'd shrug off though. Theon knew Robb, knew that nothing in this world could kill the Young Wolf, which was one of the reasons he fled Winterfell. 

Theon knew he could never best Robb's strategic mind. If Robb had chosen to send his armies back to Winterfell, his head would have been on a spike in a fortnight. He had no doubt in his mind the men he had ridden to Winterfell with were all dead. If Robb's army didn't kill them, the Stark Direwolves would have.

He remembered the look Bran and Rickon Stark had given him when he told them he was leaving. Hateful, yet grateful eyes met his own, and all he could do was look away in shame. He refused to tell them where he was going. All he did was inform them that the castle was theirs again, then disappeared with his limp tail between his legs.

He was a turncoat and there would be no redemption for him within the seven kingdoms, yet he had no plans to return to be hanged or tortured in this lifetime. Theon Greyjoy, the man born a Kracken, raised by Wolves, had betrayed them both, and now he was truly an outcast, yet even an outcast could find a home in this world.

His inner musing stopped as his eyes settled on his destination, Castle Black, his last and only hope:

The Night's Watch.

 Robb

Everyone thought he didn't sleep anymore, in a way, that was true. Robb didn't sleep anymore, but he did dream.

He dreamed of running through the woods on all fours, covered in grey fur. His sister by his side as they raced at their prey, tracking it, hunting it, and eventually...killing it. 

Whenever he woke from these dreams Grey Wind would be gone from his side, and the taste of blood would be on his lips, yet he had not even any raw meat. The more these dreams occurred, the more he realized that maybe Bran's dreams of seeing the world through Summer's eyes were not just the mere thoughts of a child's imagination. 

It was still late in the night, he could tell by how high the moon was and by the fact that his mother had finally fallen asleep. The Stark family did not sleep much, all still dealing with the fears and wounds that troubles them at night when the day's activities couldn't distract them anymore. 

They had taken to all sleeping in the same room, refusing to be apart from the other. His mother and baby sister slept in the same bed, even though Arya had her own. He mused that she had wanted to be closer to their mother, afraid that she wouldn't be there when she woke. 

It saddened Robb to know his sister was like this now. She put on a brave front to the world and acted like she hadn't a care in the world. Always tough, always ready to fight, the She-Wolf of the family! 

Yet he saw what she tried her best to hide. 

Heard how she would mumble the names of their family's enemies before she fell asleep. He heard her whimpers and cries through the night as she called out to their father and cried apologies to Lady and Sansa. 

Lady...The day her body had been sent back to Winterfell all of the Direwolves had howled the entire night, mourning their littermate. It hurt him to see Lady slain. His father had told him he had no choice, and while Robb agreed with him. That was one of the many times he wished his father wouldn't have been a man of honor. 

He wished he could whisk away his family's demons, but he knew no such thing would happen as long as they were at war and his sister was gone. They needed to get her back.

They needed to kill the Lannisters 

The Dark words his mind whispered to himself every night.

He dreamed of beheading all of them, placing all their heads on spikes then melting that damned Iron Throne down. The Throne that had taken his sister, his aunt, killed his father, uncle, grandfather, and made his ancestors kneel. The damn throne was a reminder of everything that had ever been done to the Starks, and he would destroy it. He Swore by the old and new Gods.

Robb had dressed in the darkness, careful not to wake his mother and sister. He now wore chain mail under his clothes at all times. Roose's knife had been too close to his heart for his liking, and he now knew betrayal hide in every corner. Though in all fairness, he was an honorable fool for trusting the Boltons and the Freys. Neither house had been known to be loyal or good men. He quietly exited their shared room and walked through the halls of Riverrun until he reached a balcony. 

It helped him to be able to smell the outside air, hearing the rustling of the trees, and feel the cooling winds on his face. It wasn't home, yet he felt better knowing, for the most part, his family was safe for the time being.

Peering over the balcony he saw GreatJon patroling below with some soldiers from Riverrun, constant patrols at every time of the day. It was the only way to be sure. The two made eye contact, and the larger man raised his drink to him, and Robb could almost mentally hear him chanting "King In the North". The man was now his closet advisor next to his mother, and even though he didn't know politics, the man knew battle and the North. They would be leaving for Winterfell soon, meeting with the Nothern houses that were still loyal to him.

His thoughts were interrupted when Dacey Mormont came to join him.

She didn't say anything, and that was honestly all he wanted at the moment. He didn't want someone to look at him with pity or try to console him, he just wanted to focus on that battle at hand, and luckily that is what the young bear did for him. She was there at the Red Wedding, she had fought by his side since the beginning and he was sure she'd always be there for him as long as he was king...maybe even after. She had supported his mission, guarded his life with her own, and had even taken over training Arya when the Blackfish couldn't. House Stark owed more to their Bannermen than they could ever repay. 

Robb wondered what was going on in her mind. Did she know how grateful he was for all the help she had given him? He knew Greatjon did, the man always said what he thought, Dacey wasn't any different, yet the Mormonts were never ones to share their feelings. As were most Northerners. Him no different. 

Turning his head to her, he saw that she wasn't looking at him, but at the sky, a calm expression on her face. He wondered for the second time tonight what she was thinking about. He thought about asking her, he thought about verbally thanking and expressing his gratitude for everything her family has done. He didn't though, the right words were lost on him and he didn't want them to feel hollow. Sighing he looked away from Dacey and to the sky above as well. 

After a beat of silence, he felt something warm touch his hand. 

It was Dacey Mormon's hand on top of his own.

Robb looked down at their hands, and when he looked back up, she was staring back at him, her strong eyes looking back at him and he felt captivated by her silent conviction. She squeezed his hand gently, rubbing her thumb once along his hand.

He squeezed her hand in return.

Then without another word, Dacey gently took her hand away from Robb's and retreated inside the castle, leaving him alone outside. 

Chapter Text

Dacey

Here We Stand

How long could you fight? How long can you stay in this war before you are more wolf than man?

Dacey wondered these things as she watched her King train with the wolf princess. She was skilled, weak, due to her age but that would change with time. The young Wolf was learning from her as well, adapting to her more unconventional, yet graceful way of fighting. He was holding back, yet the little princess was still making him work even if he wasn't going all out. She made a mental note to spare with the She-Wolf herself when she had a chance.

Robb's foot connected with Arya and sent her flying into a tree causing the girl to let out a pain gasped and fall forward to the ground. 

Dacey heard a wince and looked to see that the Stark Lady mother had joined in watching the training session between her children. She had thought Lady Stark to be more adamant about the training, but the Lady had encouraged it. 

"Better to have a sword in her hands than at her neck" She remembered her saying when Robb had asked her permission to train Arya.

A small smile found itself on her face. The King in the North, King of the Trident, the young wolf, first of his name, Robb Stark still had to ask his mother permission to do certain things.

It was sweet. 

"You won't fool me twice, sister," Robb called out to Arya as he let his sword dangly loosely. "Playing dead will only work once." 

Smiling like a wicked cat, Arya quickly stood up and ran at Robb, quickly dancing with her thin blade Needle, yet the older wolf was too quick for the young pup and before she knew it, Arya was on the ground again with Robb's blade pointed to her. "Better, yet you still think too much of what you're going to do, rather than what-"

"What you're going to do! Yeah, yeah, I get it. I need to intercept your moves." Arya sighed annoyed as she pushed Robb's sword away and stood up. 

She glared at him sharply, until a giant grin overtook her face and she tackled her brother in the grass and started wrestling with him, laughing the entire time. 

Dacey watched the two Stark pups play fight each other for a moment, savoring the lovely sound of her King's rare laughter and drinking in the beautiful sight of Lady Catelyn's warm smile as she watched her children play. It was the first time in her memory she had ever seen either happy. The quiet wolf's death and the loss of the young pups at Winterfell had broken the Starks. Even after Robb had married, his smiles were lies and his laughter forced. Not many could tell, yet she had known the young wolf since he was but a boy.

So much had changed since then. The boy had died when Lord Eddard Stark had lost his head.

Robb turned and looked towards Dacey, their eyes met, and she offered him a small smile, in turn, he gave her a sad smile of his own. She watched his eyes regain their usual dullness and he dropped his sword on the soft grass. Arya looked at her elder brother in confusion, as did their mother, but he said nothing, he beckoned for Grey Wind to follow him and the two disappeared inside the castle without a word.

The boy she knew had died with Lord Stark, and the man when Talisa and their unborn son were killed. Whatever was left was not Robb Stark, or at least not the one she knew.

Arya

Arya yawned waking up from her nap. She hardly slept at night, so usually in the day, she'd nod off for a bit before going back about her day. There was a moment of panic when she realized her mother wasn't there with her, but she calmed herself, remembering that the Queen Mother had left to see Robb before he met with King Stannis. 

She had been trying to understand more about the politics of being a princess, and luckily her mother hadn't made her wear dresses. Instead, she had let Arya wear whatever made her happy, and for that, she was beyond thankful. The girl ran out of her room. Nymeria hot on her heels. 

The Baratheon King had arrived and hadn't left the meeting room with her brother and the young princess had wondered what was going on. Stannis would want Robb to bend the knee, but Stannis had lost his army, and Robb's army was down two houses, yet he still held the North, or at least their loyalty. 

Nymeria started to bark and when she turned to the barking, Arya felt her face broke out into a large smile.

Enter the castle was the Brotherhood Without Banners and with them was the newly knighted Ser Gendry of the hollow hill.

The two stood opposite each other and Arya tackled him, causing the knight to fall.

Beric walked past the young knight offering a friendly chuckle and a sigh of "Young love." 

Edric, the newest member to the Brotherhood, past a fleeting glance Arya's way, lost in her eyes, till he was pulled forward, "Let's go, Dayne," Beric commanded.

"So where will you go?" Ser Gendry asked the princess as they stood at the top of Riverrun, watching as Nymeria disappeared into the forest. Arya always wondered where she had gone. Then again, she had been away from her for so long and lived in the woods by herself, she more than likely hadn't adjusted to staying in a castle after living outside for so long

"Where will we go." Arya corrected Gendry, causing the knight to smirk humbly. 

"I'm just a bastard, Princess," Gendry replied.

Arya punched him in the arm, hard. Harder than Gendry had expected.

The knight winced and held his bruised arm.

"You're a knight! And my half brother is a bastard! There's nothing wrong with that."

"She right." A voice said joining them.

The voice belonged to Catelyn Stark, the Queen mother.

Gendry fell to his knee, bowing his head. "I'm sorry your grace I was just-"

Arya's mother put her hand up to cease the Knight's words. "You helped save my daughter's life, the Princess of the North, ye need not kneel Ser Gendry. You've proven yourself to House Stark."

Gendry rose back to his feet but still offered a bow, causing Cat to give a sad laugh. Her mother went to the edge of the roof and looked out.

Her mother seemed to be thinking of something, a sad memory if she could guess. After a moment her mother sighed, walked over to Gendry and pecked him on the cheek. "A bastard or not, you are a good man, Gendry Baratheon." 

The pair looked at her mother in surprise and confusion, yet Catelyn offered no more words. She merely gently placed a piece of paper in the knight's hands and walked away. 

Gendry read the paper and the young knight felt his voice leave him.

Arya softly took the note and gasped as she read it.

Ser Gendry had been legitimized by King Stannis and King Robb as Baratheon and the heir to Storm's End.

Arya did the only thing she could think of and tackled Gendry again and held him close. She lovingly punched him till her knuckles were sore. She wasn't she if what she was feeling was love, but she did care for the older boy deeply.

Loras

Loras trained in the silence of the knight in an empty yard, the only sound being his grunts and the sound of his sword kissing the air as he danced with the blade under the pale moonlight.

"Good Evening, Ser Loras."

Loras whipped his blade in shock at the new voice, only to see an awakened Sansa Stark looking back at him.

Sansa to her credit didn't flinch, not even a hair at the sword that had almost cut her. Her time in King's landing had made her like Steel.

Loras bowed to her out of respect.

"Lady Sansa." He would never call her Lady Lannister. He knew for a fact the marriage had not been...followed through. The Lannisters were scum, and ever since the day he had watched Joffrey sick his thugs on her....his blood boiled. If that little shit thought he'd ever abused his sister he would-

The Flower knight let his rage leave him.

Sansa smiled a smile that did not reach her ears, yet he didn't have to know why. The girl hated the city. 

"It's Princess Sansa Stark, Ser Loras." Sansa corrected. 

The Knight smiled at her. "Princess." He corrected himself. 

He saw that made her feel satisfied. She then began to speak again.

"I want you to train me," Sansa said bluntly.

Loras was taken back by this. "Train you, why?

Sansa told him why told him everything that had occurred since losing Lady on the King's road till recently. Loras was shocked, disgusted, and finally, interested. He was never a trainer, he was horrible at teaching. Then again...he had never taught a Stark before. 

He hadn't asked why. He didn't need to. Sansa did not want to become another Elia Martell if the city fell or a Rhaella Targaryen if the city stood. 

So he trained her. He trained her harder than he'd ever been trained in his life. 

The girl wasn't a natural, not at all. She was a slow learner, she admitted that, but she learned.

It took some time but Loras had managed to make her a somewhat competent fighter in her own right...hopefully that would help keep her alive...and work to his Grandmother's plan.

Davos

The Onion knight rubbed his tired eyes as King Stannis and King Robb had finally come to an agreement....after hours of teeth grinding, swords being pulled out, birthright talks, revenge, and northerners never forgetting, the two men had finally come to an understanding. 

Robb would remain King of the North and the Trident, and Stannis had even agreed to let him keep the Vale if he managed to get hem to join in the war effort, in turn, Stannis would keep the rest of the Kingdom and Robb would help him eventually bring Dorne into the fold. Something that Robb only agreed to if King Stannis sent his ships to help crush the Ironborn. 

"They will pay the Iron Price for their treachery." King Stannis promised darkly. 

The young wolf growled in satisfaction, the darkness of rage overtaking him. Davos now understood while he was called the Young Wolf and if the details of the Red Wedding were true, the event had only made the young man more feral. 

Robb placed the wolf head, the piece that represented his house on top of Casterly Rock. "The West burns," Robb whispered darkly. "If they wear the sigil of the lion, they must die. No survivors, no prisoners, and no mercy. This is their price for the war they started." Robb snarled, voice raising in volume and menace. 

"We will not rest till the head of the false Stag's head is on a spike, the Quen Regent's head with her bastard, and Tywin Lannister pays for the crimes against the realm."

"And what of the Ser Jaime Lannister, the King Slayer?" Stannis asked.

Robb's face twisted into a cold emotionless state that could rival the wall. "The man crippled my brother, breaking guest rights...I will let the Direwolves deiced his fate." Grey Wind howled loudly at his owner's side, and the Northern lords chanted "The North Remembers!" while The Baratheon men yelled, "Ours is the Fury!" In return.

Stannis and Robb's eyes met and the two Kings walked forward and shook on it. 

The fury of the North...Aye, Robb could swear to that.

Robb

Night had fallen upon Riverrun again, King Stannis had departed, not wanting to waste any time, and at daybreak, Robb would do the same. It had taken more ravens than he'd been able to count, and many dealings, but he had convinced the Karstarks to return to the fold, with the promise of blood for blood. Alys Karstark, the only known surviving member of the family had agreed to bring the Karstarks and the Starks back together on the terms that they keep their land, all crimes of their father are forgiven, and that all the Lannisters die for what they did. 

Robb didn't argue a single word of it. 

The Karstarks, Umbers, and Manderly would go on ahead, Robb had left the members of the Brotherhood without Banners lead them, it had angered some of his Lords, but their respect for the men who had survived so long without an army trumped their pride. 

His mother and sister would leave for the Vale with Ser Edric Dayne and other Stark and Baratheon men to persuade his Aunt to join the fight. His mother swore they she would be returning with the Knights of the Vale even if she had to chain her own sister up and demand it. He would travel further south, to King's Landing with Stannis. His Guards hadn't been happy, GreatJon mostly, about leaving him, but Dacey Mormont had sworn to stay by his side, he would survive. The Reeds and Mormonts would go North to clear out the Ironborn and Bolton bastard haunting the North. Stannis had sworn when the war was over, the Greyjoys would die. Robb would have the heads of that cursed family and finish what his late father and King Robert had started years ago. 

Arya ran into the room, panting and smiling broadly.

"Robb! You must come quickly!" She yelled.

The Young wolf tilted his head in confusion but followed his sister out of the room without question, running after her.

The two wolves ran to find their mother sobbing on the floor, something was there next to her and when Robb got close enough he too felt tears come to his eyes.

The ancestral blade of the Stark house, Ice, the blade of his father and every Warden of the North before him, lay before them. 

"How?" Robb whispered out. 

"I don't know." His mother cried softly. "The GreatJon found the blade carefully tucked away in a crate close to the castle right where he makes his daily patrol."

It was planted, that was the only explanation he could think of someone had wanted to them to see it. 

"Was there anything else?"

Catelyn nodded her head and handed him a small scroll.

The Red wolf grows strong, protected amongst the flowers

We pray the North remembers when the lions fall.

"What does that mean, brother?" Arya asked. 

Robb held Ice in his hand, holding the blade firmly. "It means our house has more allies than we thought in the Lion's den." 

When the castle had finally returned to its slumber, Robb once again found himself awake.

He climbed out of his bed, Grey Wind following him without a beat, he kissed his sleeping mother and his baby sister that slept in her arms on the heads and excused himself from the room. 

Dacey Mormont greeted him from outside his room with a silent nod. Dacey had always chosen to watch the royal family when they would sleep. He often worried if she got enough sleep, but then he remembered he was no one to talk about sleep.

The two walked in silence around the castle, Grey Wind a bit ahead of them, and talked about everything that had been transpiring. He informed her of his house's blade returning and she informed him that the Greatjon was currently piss drunk and arguing with the Blackfish about if the Queen Mother would enjoy a tour around the Umber lands when the war was over. Robb did not pry further as to the interest Greatjon had in his mother, nor did he even entertain the thought. He had enough mental scars. He did not need more. 

The two eventually came to the roof and they sat against a wall together, shoulder to shoulder. Grey Wind Settled by their feet.

It was then Dacey noticed something. "You finally shaved!" She cheered.

He rubbed his naked face, feeling odd without the scruff he had grown over the last few months. "I began to look more wolf than man. I did not want the stags to mistake me for a beast."

Dacey rolled her eyes "And yet you refuse to cut your hair."

Robb sighed, chuckling to himself as he ran a hair through his long scruffy hair. He looked more like his half-brother now than ever before. "Maybe I am a wolf."

Their eyes met and Dacey leaned her head on Robb's shoulder, yawning.  "You will always be my wolf." Dacey softly muttered. 

It wasn't long before he felt Dacey's breathing slow down and watched the woman, his sword guard fall asleep against his shoulder. Hesitantly, Robb placed his arm around her, letting the woman fall asleep in his arms.

Not long after, he felt himself slipping away, and he too fell asleep, and for the first time in many months, Robb Stark did not dream of the nightmares of the Twins. For so many nights his dreams had been haunted by Walder Frey and Roose Bolton...In his dreams he killed them every time...but not this night, no. Tonight he dreamed of life after the war, with his brothers and sisters, and a boy named Eddard Stark who's mother was a she-bear and father a young wolf.

Sansa

She ran through the woods, dirty, panting, yet she couldn't stop running, no not yet. She had to keep pushing herself. Her pack, wherever they were, needed her. She had been given a second chance, sparred from death or worse by the false stag or the lioness. 

Stopping wasn't an option, she wasn't as strong as the others, but she was smart, smarter than the rest, smarter than them all of them. As she came into the clearing, she knew she was close. It was colder here than it had been on the road of crowns, the familiar feeling of home, yet something was...off. 

It didn't take long to find out what was different. Walking carefully through the outskirts of the castle of winter, she saw the bodies of men littered the ground, bad men. She could feel it in her bones. They were bad, turncloaks. traitors. She saw one from a distance, running towards his horse, and by instincts, she chased after the greasy man. 

Just as the man was about to touch the reins of his horse, an arrow pierced his genitals from the back and the man fell to the ground, screaming in agonizing pain, voice echoing in the empty clearing. The horse took off in fear after seeing it's owner collapse. The man held himself, crying in pain and rage. He tried crawling away, but she stopped him mid crawl by stepping on his back.

The man flinched, feeling the weight on his back.

She heard him whimper, yet all his fear did was make her mouth water. Traitors always did taste splendid.

Letting out a feral growl she pounced on the man, yet she made sure to stay away from his throat. She wanted to savor the taste of his pain, his fear as she mauled him. His screams were so sweet to her ears, she had no idea why, but nothing was going to stop her. 

Finally, she held her mouth open, teeth close to his neck. 

The man let out a pathetic, painful sob, and then without another word moment, she sunk her teeth into his jugular and ripped it out, forever silencing him.

Tully blue eyes snapped open as Sansa finally returned to the realm of consciousness. She rolled her tongue around in her mouth tasting blood, but the Red Wolf only smiled to herself at the beautiful dream. Her muscles were sore, body aching, but the Red Wolf would not worry. Her claws were sharper, and her mind awakened. She would be with her pack soon...

Lyanna

"Serves the stupid bastard right," Lyanna Mormont said as she and Prince Rickon inspected Ramsey Snow's half-eaten body.

Behind them, Shaggdog was chasing and playing with his littermate, a gentle and elegant looking wolf. 

"Your grace, can you please get those wolves under control." Maege Mormont muttered as she cleaned off her sword. 

Rickon nodded his head. "Home, Shaggydog! Home, Lady!" 

Shaggydog and Lady stopped their playing to walk over to Rickon and the two wolves licked the young Prince, earning a giggle from him, and a reluctant smile from Lyanna.

"You might have some stones left in you, after all, Kraken," Maege said as two men came to inspect the body of Ramsey snow.

Jon Snow and Theon Greyjoy, deserters of the Night's Watch stood over the dead body of Ramsey Snow outside of fields of the burnt Winterfell. 

Lyanna stood next to the prince mauling their current situation over. Theon Greyjoy was a Turncloak, Ned's bastard was at the wall, and all reports of Princess Sansa's Direwolf was that she had been killed on the King's Road...None of it made sense, yet here they were. The night had been long, and it had taken everything and more to drive the Boltons out of Winterfell, but the capital of the North was now restored. 

There must always be a Stark in Winterfell and Prince Rickon was home.

Chapter Text

Lady

She can taste it...the sadness. The hopeless despair her human is feelings. She knows not of why her human feels it, but it infects her, making the sad. She can feel her littermate getting further and further away from them. The gentle wolf did not like to fight, no. Her female littermate did, just like her human's littermate. She wished their eldest littermate was here. He would know what to do. He always did, but like the others, only the two of them had gone to the road of crowned men. 

Soft, yet heavy footsteps of a reach her ears. She perks up, smelling her human's Alpha come closer. He is burdened, an unspeakable task has been thrust upon him. She cries for she knows not what her human's Alpha suffers from. She slowly walks to him as he kneels, licking his hands. There is a pain in his tired eyes as his rough hands brush the silky smooth fur that her human works so hard to maintain. 

Lady's mind is own her human, hair like the hot light the humans make every night to sit in front of. She had not seen her since she had gone off with the bad human. She did not like the bad human or his pack. They made her feel uneasy. She did not want to hear them, no her human would be upset if she did, but yet she did not like her human around them. The bad human and his pack were not good for her human. They did not have her human's well being at heart. Her littermate knew and she wonders where her littermate has gone?  

The Direwolf whines louder. She wants her littermate to come back. She wants to go home to her pack waiting at the stones of winter. She wanted her human! She did not like this road of crowned men. It made her feel...uneasy. 

Lady watched as her human's Alpha brandished something that she recognized as what the other humans used to kill. She tried to back away, but her human's Alpha pulled her closer. Panic began to rise within her. 

What had she done wrong?! She was good! Her human had always said so every time the ball in the sky would rise and when it fell. She would brush her coat, and give sweet kisses to her fur. 

Where was her human?!

Lady began to cry more. She had done nothing wrong! She wanted her littermates, she wanted her human! 

The Direwolf licked her Alpha's hands through the fear. She felt that he did not want to hurt her so why was he doing this?! 

She saw her human's Alpha raise his hand and Lady gave one final cry of pain.

Lady thought of her human's kind face and then the world went black.

Eyes slowing opening up, Lady tried to sit up but felt a burning pain. She felt the hands of a human on her. It is not her human's. Beside her is a wolf, slain, and Lady whines, lowering her head. She did not know what was going on. She wanted her human...

The humans treat her injury, but it still burns. They then leave her and go about their ways. Lady whines again. She is scared and alone. She cannot sense her littermate or her human and it fills her with an emptiness she does not like. It hurts to walk, so she does not move. Besides, her human will be looking for her. She can't go. 

Lady finds a nearby pile of leaves and lays down on them, giving a soft whine as she does. She is good and she will wait for her human. 

The orbs in the sky change, and still no sign of her human. She is not worried though. She is good and her human loves her. Lady knows her human will find her. Her injury is healed, which makes tracking and hunting easier. She misses the sweet food her human use to give her, but she knows she will taste it again. Till now, the little prey will do. 

Her days are simple. She wakes up, hunts, drinks from the river, and returns to the spot that the other humans left her by. They must have left her there for her human. She knows that she will be there soon. Lady knows that her human was going somewhere. She must have still been wherever that was. She knows if she stays put her human will find her soon. So she stays there.

Lady knows she is good and that her human loves her. 

She is starving. The other forest creatures have learned to avoid her space, yet she cannot leave...Her human is coming for her and she is good....she is good and she knows that her human will come for her...

Lady is weak, she hadn't eaten in too long, and no other creatures had gone her way. Why hadn't her human come back yet? 

Lady whined putting her head down. Was she...was she not good? Had she angered her human? 

The Direwofl howled softly, calling out to her human and littermates.

She howled, and howled, and howled, hoping to hear her human's sweet voice or her littlemate's calls.

She wanted to go home.

Theon

Theon thought himself lucky, at least in small parts. When he had arrived at Castle Black Jon wasn't there. The rumor was that he was dead. 

Theon wasn't sure why, but that made him feel mournful. It wasn't like him he and Snow were close. No, not even close. They did group up together though, train together, and even eat together. Jon being bastard and him the Stark's ward, it wasn't like they were apart of the main family...except...

There were times that Lord Stark would bring them to the main table for their name days or big celebrations. When that didn't happen Robb had always made it a habit to join them at their table even though as the heir to Winterfell, he should be seen at his family's side and not with the bastard and ward. 

He asked Robb why he did that.

Robb would always say that he was with his family when he sat down at their table.

Theon's arrow missed it's target, hitting off into the powdery snow. 

Theon glared in annoyance. 

How did thinking about Jon turn into thinking about Robb?

Neither mattered. Both more than likely died. Jon beyond the wall and Robb in battle. 

A part of him didn't want to believe that. 

Theon pushed that part of himself down. 

It had been some weeks some months since Theon had joined the crows, and it wasn't that bad. Sure it was cold as fuck, but it was safe, for the most part. When he had first arrived there had been a fight here and there. Doubts about his skills and other implications were thrown his way. Luckily none of it fazed him. There had been worst things he had heard growing up in the North. 

His thoughts of the past were shaken when an injured Jon Snow came riding. or passed out, into the castle on a horse.

"Well fuck me gently with Longclaw," Theon muttered to himself.

He thought of just waiting or hiding from Jon, but he knew that sooner or later they'd have to talk. So...might as well get it over with.

"What's the worst he could do?" Theon thought to himself.

A bleeding, exhausted Jon Snow jumped his bed and tackled Theon, roaring in rage. 

"Apparently a lot!" Theon thought.

The two men wrestled on the ground, there was punching, kicking, yelling, and Theon was pretty sure Jon tried to fucking bite him!

"You bite me!" Theon screamed as he pulled Jon Snow's long hair and bit him back. 

Poor Sam didn't know what to do. He wanted to help Jon, but he also didn't want to get bit...by either of them. 

Finally, brothers of the black stormed into the room and broke up the fight. 

Though they did it by knocking both out.

After their first, second, and third fight, Snow and Greyjoy were forced to just stop fighting or they'd be punished accordingly. The Lord Commander had turned a blind eye knowing their history was complicated, and his soft spot for Jon, but no more. It had been made clear that their next fight would be their last in the Night's Watch.

So they went about their business. Jon and Theon rarely saw each other anyway. Jon was busy dealing with some trouble he had gotten into that had ended with him missing from Castle Black in the first place while Theon was busy as a Ranger. 

As time went on things went relatively back to normal. He would see Jon sometimes and out of forced obligation from the Commander they would greet each other, and such. Jon had informed the watch of the King Beyond the walls impending attack, but few believed him, but Theon did. He didn't doubt the Wildlings. The North doubted the Iron Born, and look what that got them.

Nothing really was out of the ordinary though...Ordinary by Night's Watch standards. At least until news of the Red Wedding hits the Night's Watch.

Stories are scarce and contradicting, but they all have one thing in common: The King had gone to the Twins for a wedding and that same night the Twins were burnt to the ground.

There were so many rumors. 

Stannis had his demon witch set fire to the Twins.

The Lannisters had planned a sneak attack on the Starks and Freys.

Someone had mentioned Ashara Dayne and Lady Catelyn had burned down the Twins in rage. That one was his favorite. 

Finally, a letter comes and everything makes sense.

Theon reads the letter that had made its way across Westeros like a plague. 

“The wolves had feasted hardy at the twins! The Northerners had made sure that the Freys were greatly rewarded for their hospitality. During the festivities, the wolves had found their missing pup and a scarred hound. Alas, all good things come to an end, the wolves had left the Twins burning with gratitude. It was unfortunate that the Lions couldn’t make it, but the wolves appreciated that they had sent their regards. They hope to see the Old Lion soon. They mentioned something about getting their Red Wolf back and putting the false Stag’s head on a spike…ah, my memory ain’t what it used to be. The North remembers though…they always remember…

Sincerely,

The Late Walder Frey.”

The Freys tried to betray Robb Stark, and in turn, Robb burned the Twins. He doesn't know why he jumps off his chair, laughing like a demented child. Robb fucking Stark! The Young Wolf! Betrayed, outnumbered, out planned, and drunk had managed to destroy an entire house! 

The happiness leaves him when he realizes that it doesn't matter to him. Winterfell is under control of...someone. He wasn't sure if that someone was the Iron Born though. The reports he was hearing did not sound like things they would do. 

Jon would probably want to read this, so he went to find the gloomy bastard where he always was.

Brooding over some high part of the castle... 

Jon

Jon glared at the letter from his brother as he stood in one of the highest towers of the castle. His brother had somehow, someway, managed to survive. Why had he called him Jon Stark in the letter though? He was a Snow. Not a Stark. 

He heard a door open and he turned to see Theon walk in.

"So you got the letter then." Then said as he noticed what Jon was holding.

"Aye." Was all he replied to Theon. Jon left the room, Theon following close behind him.

Jon went to his room and began to pack. 

"What are you doing?" Theon asked as he watched him.

"Leaving," Jon answered without missing a beat. 

Theon walked closer to him, voice filled with...concern? 

"Are you kidding me? You'll be branded a dester-"

Jon cut him off, slamming him against a wall roughly. "When my father was locked away, I did nothing. When my father lost his head, I did nothing. When you and the Iron born came to our home, I did nothing! I will not let our brother die alone! Do you hear me Greyjoy?!" 

The Kraken looked into the wolf's eyes, and the two stared at each other unblinking. Finally, after what seemed like three winters, Theon's lost gaze turned hard and he spoke.

"Let's go."

Theon said the words like an oath.

Jon accepted it.

Osha

A part of her will always curse Robb Stark's name for not just giving her a quick death, and instead of making her sworn to House Stark, but she was, and thanks to that she found herself loving the young Princes. It had been some time since she had separated from Prince Bran Stark, and she often wondered how her little Prince was doing. She knew he was in safe hands though. The Reed siblings would keep him safe. Meera looked at Bran like he was the sun, and she knew the young Prince looked at her like the moon. She sent a silent prayer to the Old Gods to watch over Bran Stark and the Reeds.

Osha watched as the Wild Wolf, Prince Rickon Stark slept curled against her chest, snoring softly. Shaggydog was out there, somewhere. Hunting? Watching? She had no idea. It was only when the young Prince slept that the Wolf would leave his side, and only if Osha was with him. Then again, she was always with the Prince. She had made an Oath and as a Free Woman, she would never break it. She was sworn to House Stark and that way it would stay until the day she joined the gods. 

They were supposed to go to Skagos, and they had started on their way when words reached her ears about the Red Wedding. How Robb Stark had survived the attack on his life made by the Turncloaks and Oathbreakers Roose Bolton and Walder Frey, all orchestrated by Tywin Lannister. The Boltons were cowards who hid in the shadows of the North and The Freys were cowards and weasels. Only the Old Lion of the Rock would be as brave and pragmatic to the Wolves at a wedding. Robb Stark had won though, House Frey was dead, as was House Bolton since the North had gone into a full Civil War to kill and destroy every member of House Bolton there was.

No one had sided with the Boltons, maybe if Robb Stark had been killed, but since the Starks lived, their King, their only chance for a free North, the Northerners did not kneel. For what is a Lord to a King? A Bolton Lord at that, A man who breaks guests rights then sucks the cock of the Golden false Stag. No, he had no friends in the North. Winterfell would be under siege for Gods know how long, but till then she had brought the Young Prince to Bear Island. 

Bear Island had been good for the Prince. To be around people again, to continue his training and education. The Wild Wolf trained every day even though he was barely ten. It did not matter though. His brother had been but a boy himself when he had marched off to war. She softly brushed a stray strand of hair out of the boy's face. His hair had grown long. Long enough that it rained past his shoulders. His face, while still childlike was beginning to show the hints of maturity that would be blessed to him in the next coming years. The people of Bear Island said that he resembled the Young Wolf, and she could see some of Robb Stark in her Prince.  She kissed the Prince and curled up back with him, giving him warmth. She was not the boy's mother, or even sister, yet she loved him like he was her own kin.

They break their fast early and meet with Lyanna Mormont in her mother's Solar. The young girl is but bit older than Rickon, acts far older. Osha is glad for her influence, the little Prince acts more mature around her and wishes to please. Osha chalked it up to puppy love, but if the rumors were true, he was not the first Stark to be smitten with a Bear at a tender age...

"Prince Rickon Stark," Lyanna Mormont bows, as she does every time. "Lady Osha." She offers her, but Osha rolls her eyes and sits down in a nearby chair. Rickon joins her, Shaggydog at his feet. The Beast made many nervous on the road, but the people of Bear Island regard him with such good favor, one would question if the damn Direwolf was a prince himself.

"How did you sleep, your Grace? Lyanna asks as politely.

Rickon smiles brightly, "Very Ly!" He says disregarding her more formal way of speaking to his little nickname he called Lyanna Mormont, a name that only he and he alone could call her. "Shaggy and I were tracking some Ironborn who had been sneaking around in the woods..or camping." He said with a shrug. "Pretty sure Shaggy ate them."

He then pets the beast, who loved the attention and wagged his tail.

"Very good my prince," Lyanna replied. 

It was no secret anymore the Starks were skin-changers, Wargs, as some called them. There had been whispers that Robb Stark was one by how he commanded Grey Wind, and of course, she had seen first hand Bran command Summer, so after so many talks of Wolf Dreams, she came to the conclusion that all Starks must be able to dream through the eyes of another. The Mormonts used that ability to stay a step ahead of the Ironborn. They were hoping that Rickon would be able to control Shaggydog while he was awake, but his control wasn't as good as Bran's.

"So any news from your sister?" Rickon asks, she knows that the Prince wants to ask about his family, but also that he doesn't want to be rude as well. Manners were slowly returning as well luckily.

Lyanna beamed subtle at the Prince. "My sister did send a raven." 

Lyanna slid the letter over to Rickon who read it.

"The West Will burn."

"Well isn't that a lovely poem, aye?" Osha speaks for the first time.

Rickon chuckles while Lyanna offers her a smirk. 

"Your Grace,"

"Yes, Lyanna?" Rickon asks.

Lyanna smiles brighter than Osha had ever seen her do before. "Its time to go see my mother." 

Catelyn 

The sun was shining on the day she left her son and she felt that was the saddest thing.

Catelyn watched as her son, her young man, the King in the North & King of the Trident, the feared Young Wolf, complained and muttered light curses under his breath as he had his hair cut and beard shaved. Her son's hair was now almost to his waist, and beard covering most of his face. He hadn't really made himself presentable since before the Twins, and since then had forgotten all about such vain things. Though she mused that it was time. His face was now clean shaven, and his long locks of hair were now resting slightly below his ears. 

Robb looked up at her with his Tully blue eyes and offered her a small smile that did not reach his ears. He resembled the boy he had been, yet this damned war had taken so much from him. Gone was the light-hearted playfulness that sparkled in his eyes whenever he'd see his family. The warm-hearted kindness that lay behind every smile he gave. Now his face was carved by war, smiles stained with scowls, and eyes that never seemed to be as full as they once had been.

Her son favored her looks over his father's, but he had never looked more like Eddard Stark than he had now.

"Mother?" Robb said, hoping to ask her a question.

"Yes, my boy?" Catelyn said softly.

She watched as he bit the inside of his cheek, unsure of himself, which worried her. As complicated as their relationship could be, Robb had never been one to withhold his feelings from his family. Finally, he spoke and her heart broke.

"Would father be disappointed in me?" He asked, eyes downcast, voice bitter and lost.

Catelyn allowed herself a few tears and cupped her son's face in her hand, making him look at her. "Your father would have been so proud of you, Robb," she said through tears. "And I am too." 

Robb's absorbed her words and she watched as his face contorted into relief, joy, anger, and finally sadness. For the first time since the Twins, her son had allowed himself to cry and wept into her arms. 

They stood outside Riverrun, Catelyn with her guard Ser Gendry, and some Stark and Baratheon men, Robb meanwhile only had Dacey Mormont and Grey Wind, but the King had to travel light and sleep through the shadows. Greatjon would be leading the charge west with the Karstarks and Manderlys. 

Arya walked closer to Robb, and she watched as her daughter fought down the urge to cry. She was as upset as her. The last time a Stark had gone south he had died, and now Robb was doing to just. Robb lowered himself to Arya's height and kissed her on the top of the head. 

"And what do we say to the God of Death, little sister?" Robb asked.

Arya smirked. "Not today." 

"Aye," Robb replied. "I have to go meet King Stannis and end this war...I need you to protect mother, make sure Aunt Lysa says yes. We need her troops." 

Her youngest daughter nodded her head. "I'll bring you an army brother, and we'll get Sansa back!"

Her son nodded her head. "Aye, we will."

The two siblings shared a long hug. Neither wanted to let go, but they knew it was time. Robb gently let go of Arya and the girl placed her forehead against his. "Please come back, brother."  Arya didn't want him to go and it pained Catelyn to watch, but she knew they could not follow him where he was going.

"I have to kill them all, sister, and then I will come home," Robb whispered as he wiped away Arya's tears. "And remember,"

"Stab them with the pointy end," Arya said with evil glee. "I will. Especially cousin Robert." 

Robb kissed Arya on the forehead and let her run to the party that Ser Gendry was leading to escort Catelyn and her to the Vale. 

Catelyn heard Ser Gendry offer a small jest at Arya, who in turn punched him hard in the chest. 

Robb then went to Catelyn's side and hugged his mother warmly, making her try to hold back the tears as her oldest said goodbye. "I will bring Sansa back, mother. I will avenge all the Nothern families who died and father." 

He sounded so sure of himself. Not an ounce of doubt in his voice. Maybe they could win. Just maybe. She had faith in her son. "I know, my son. Now go, you clever boy. Go and be a King." 

Robb hugged her one last time and went to get his horse ready. 

Grey Wind, who had been busy this entire time playing with Nymeria, went to Arya's side and offered a sloppy goodbye to her daughter before he came forward to bid goodbye.

Catelyn pet the Direwolf on the head, who nuzzled and licked her hand. "Keep my son." 

The Direwolf barked at her, almost understanding the command and ran to Robb's side. Robb greeted the large wolf with affection and fed him a treat. Catelyn smiled, the great King in the North carried treats on his person just in case he wanted to spoil his Direwolf. 

Dacey Mormont then walked to her and kneeled "Queen Mother," She started, and Catelyn fought the urge to correct her. Oh, how she hated that title, but yet it was now hers to bear. She mused that this was what her son had to go through. He was raised to be a Lord, not a King, as she was a Lady, not a Queen Mother.

"I will protect the King with my life, your grace." She said with a voice full of conviction. "I will be his sword, his shield I-"

"You have helped my son's smile return." Catelyn started, catching the She-Bear off guard. "Keep my son's hope alive and make sure he never forgets what love is, Dacey." 

Dacey did not say anything, instead, she bowed her head, speaking softly so only the two of them could hear. "Robb Stark is my King, my comrade, and my...friend." Catelyn caught the hesitation on the word friend. "It would grant me no higher honor than to stand by his side for the rest of my life." 

Catelyn wondered if Dacey meant as Robb's trusted knight or maybe...maybe something more, but did not press the matter. This was war, and such things could come at another time. She kissed Dacey Mormont on the head. "Your mother would be very proud of you, Lady Dacey."

Dacey Mormont again did not say anything, but a silent thanks and went to join her son and his Direwolf.

She watched as Robb and Dacey exchanged a few hush words. He offered a smile, a small smile that he only gave the likes of his mother and sister. The two climbed onto their horses and gave a final farewell to the party behind them, and then disappeared into the rising sun. 

"Aye, you raised a good King," Greatjon said as she approached. 

Catelyn wiped away a tear, "Let us go, we mustn't take any longer than we have." The Greatjon placed a hand on her shoulder and she touched it with hers. 

The man had been a comfort to Catelyn, talking to her not as a man of the North, but as a grieving father who had lost a child just as she had. It hurt to say goodbye to him as well, but it was their duty, and as a Tully, one could not ignore their duty.

"Till we meant again, Catelyn." 

"Till we meet again, Greatjon." 

And without another word the Greatjon Umber left with his party to burn the west, and Catelyn left with Ser Gendry and her daughter to recruit the Vale.

Jaime

Oh, how he missed that damned Bear that the Boltons had.

Jaime had been back in the capital for some time now. His hair was cut, beard shaved, and he was fitted with a pleasant golden hand to replace the one he had seemed to lose.  Of course, Roose had made arrangements for Jaime to book safe passage back to the King's Landing, but since Roose was, well currently dead, he felt no need keep it a secret on whose men held the blame for his lost sword hand. 

Apparently that did nothing to help the current situation though. His father turned the cloaks of House Bolton and Frey and that did not end well. Robb Stark still lived and the only thing left of House Frey wash was ash. While House Bolton had only Ramsey Snow, who was close to being Ramsey Bolton, but since his father had failed to uphold his end of the deal, no such luck would find the bastard. The said bastard was now held up in Winterfell, but with the entire North against him, it was only a matter of time till he too joined his father in hell. 

Jaime thought it ironic that his father had taken such a risk to make a deal with the Freys and Boltons and now since it had failed, the only thing his father could do was fight them. So Tywin Lannister had everyone killed but Brienne, who in turn was now a "guest" of house Lannister, but it wasn't like they could do anything to her. House Tarth was sworn to Renly Baratheon and even though Renly was dead and House Tarth had not declared for Stannis, Tywin felt no need to gain any more foes in this war. Stannis and Robb Stark had both lost men, and both would want the Lanisters dead, it did not take a fool to no sooner or later the two would join forces. Balon Greyjoy was dead, but Asha Greyjoy was rumored to have become their next Queen, she would not side with the Lannisters either. Dorne hated them, for the death of Elia Martell, so they were out. All they had was the Reach, and well that....that was not going so well.

After Joffrey, charming as ever, had beaten La- Princess Stark, he corrected himself mentally. The Girl had entitled herself and refused to be addressed as anything else. Oh, that had earned her many scornful looks from his dear sister and chuckles from Tyrion and Bronn, but she never lost her respectful tone while speaking to them, so Tywin so no reason to punish the girl. Anyway, after his charming "nephew" had Princess Sansa almost beaten to death, in front of the Tyrells mind you, Loras had become the girl's personal bodyguard and followed her around whenever he wasn't around Margaery Tyrell, who was now slowly keeping her distance from Joffrey.  Oleanna assured his father that the marriage would go on as planned, but his father was no fool.

The Tyrells were slowly moving their army out of King's Landing, not enough to be a full-on withdrawal, but it was clear that House Tyrell was lost to them, which was entirely on Joffrey. Mace Tyrell was many things: Arragont, foolish, and a glory seeker, but he would not send his daughter to become the next Rhaella Targaryen. 

So that is where they were. He wondered what his father would do next?

The Kingslayer found his brother looking out to the training ground, and he wondered what he was observing. It was night, and all the knights, if that's what you wanted to call them, had already left hours ago.

"Hello. dear brother," Tyrion said softly. "Have you come to watch the knights train?"

Confused, Jaime peered over into the dark training grounds to see it lit by a few torches, and down below was Loras Tyrell, which didn't surprise him much, the boy had focused his attention on training, but what did surprise him was that Lad- Princess Sansa, was training with him as well. And to his surprise,  she wasn't fairing as bad as one would think. 

He watched as she dashed madly around Loras, while her footwork was still sloppy at times, her movements with the sword were graceful and fluid as the Flower Knight. Now, of course, Loras was indeed taking it easy on her, but still, Loras was regarded as one of the best knights of the Kingdom. A sting of resentment went to Jaime as he realized that he would never be able to fight Loras to prove that he was better. No, his days were not behind him...not yet at least.

"It seems the Princess really is a wolf," Jaime says, hardly holding in his amazement. 

"So it seems." His brother sighs. 

Tyrion

The West was burning, and there was nothing they could do. It was only a matter of time before Robb Stark finally appeared back on the map for revenge against the Lannisters, but none of them assumed he would go to The West, and yes he had taken many of their castles in the days before he had been betrayed, but ever since the Red Wedding, the Starks had gone quiet. Now the West was burning. The Umbers, Manderlys, Baratheon, and somehow even the Karstarks, Gods know how the King in the North fixed that trainwreck, were leading the attack on the West. They had already recaptured Ashemark, the Crag, and the gold mines at Castamere, Nunn's Deep, and the Pendric Hills.

Robb Stark had survived, his mother had survived, they had even found the lost Arya Stark, and now the West was burning. They were now calling the Starks...

"The Wolves of Castamere," Tyrion pausing as he read off of a scroll sent by a raven. "Have taken Lannisport, and any surviving Lannisters have now been captured." 

To his credit, his father does not show any emotion, but the King, Joffrey does.

"I will kill that dog's cunt sister!" Joffrey hisses like the little pussycat he is, shooting up from his chair. "I-"

"Will sit down!" Tywin orders loudly as he slams his hand on the table, shocking the room quiet. Joffrey looks like he wants to argue, to fight but instead, he leaves, muttering curses as he goes.

The Old Lion stares at his family in disgust, and without another word leaves the room. 

The Tyrells abound them before the next moon. 

Joffrey had struck Margaery, and it had taken the combined force of all the Tyrell guards to stop him from becoming the next Kingslayer. Oleanna does not promise anything, nor does she offer to stay and try to make what had happened right. Instead, she leaves King's Landing with her grandchildren and the Lannister's last hope for survival withers away.

"Yes, now the rains weep o'er his halls and not a soul to hear" Tyrion softly said as he swallowed some whine and Shae swallowed him.

Rickon

The soldiers parts ways as Prince Rickon Stark rides into camp on Shaddydog's back, Lady Lyanna holding onto his back. The Young Prince dismounts the Direwolf, feeding him a treat he kept on his person then walks into the tent. 

He walks past the soldiers, head held high, and stopped in front of Maege Mormont and Galbart Glover, who kneel, offering a,  "Your Grace." Before standing again. 

It felt odd at first, being referred to as a Prince, but Lyanna and Osha taught him he must move past his own feelings of doubt and command the North until his brother returned home. 

"Please come home soon, Robb." Rickon thought as he looked at the map, studying it. 

Maege and Galbart had informed him that taking Winterfell could take months. There were hostages inside, and the castle would not fall easily. Though Rickon, the clever boy he was, knew things about the castle that no one would know unless they were a Stark. During the Greyjoy invasion led by Theon, he had recalled the tale of how they had hidden in the Crypts and had snuck out through them as well. No one but Bran, Hodor, Osha, the Reeds, and himself knew about that passage though. It was a sworn Stark secret in case of an emergency.

Rickon then came up with a plan, a tactic he had learned from Robb once when it had been up to them to capture Jon, Bran, and Arya in a game they were playing. It had only been Robb, Theon, and himself, and they had to find a way to sneak up and capture them, without altering to all of their presence. So Robb had devised a plan to have Theon serve as a distraction, while Robb and himself moved on to attack on two fronts.

"It'll be simple," Rickon said in a voice that he did not recognize as his own. "The Glovers and Reeds will continue to push forward, increasing their assault on Winterfell, meanwhile, the Mormonts will sneak through the crypts and invade from the inside out. While the Boltons and their bannermen are busy with the Glovers and Reeds, the Mormonts can take the castle from within and open the gates." Rickon moved pieces that were made to look like the houses around. "Then we'll kill every Bolton in my family's castle," Rickon growled, earning a growl from Shaggydog as well.

The room stared at Rickon in amazement, a boy only ten, yet he had come up with a plan to end a siege that could take months, in a simple night. 

Rickon to his credit did not break eye contact with anyone in the room, nor did he show how terrified he was with an entire room staring at him. Osha and Lyanna had been teaching him to control his fear and anger, so instead of showing in on his face, Rickon calmy counted in his head, thinking of things that made him happy to calm his nerves as he continued to tell the room of his plan.

He thought of his father's wise eyes, his mother's loving kisses, Sansa's gentle hugs, Robb's brave words, Arya's playful spirit, Bran's brotherly love, Jon loyalty, and finally he thought of Lyanna Mormont, just Lyanna. The girl that had become his best friend. The two were as close as they could be, and Rickon promised after the war was over he would let her foster at Winterfell to train under the King himself. It was the least he could for her. She was amazing to him. The best.

They moved through the crypts quickly, Rickon leads the charge much to the anger of Lyanna, but even Maege had told her that as the only one of the Starks who knew the and was present, they needed Rickon or they would waste time, so Lyanna had agreed. She was right though, even Rickon knew how dangerous it was for him to be here. He had learned how to fight with a sword and spear, yet that would not do him much good against opponents who were bigger and stronger them him with years more experience, yet that would not stop him. He was a Stark and there must always be a Stark in Winterfell!

It was a massacre after that. 

Mormont soldiers stormed Winterfell, screams were heard of the dying but were drowned out with "The North Remembers!" or "King in the North!" and of course "Here we stand!" The Mormont's house words. 

Rickon does his best, cutting down enemies with his sword as he glides around the room with his short sword and Shaggydog guarding him. 

The gates to Winterfell open and just like that the Castle is now under full attack. 

Everything goes according to plan, well almost everything.

Rickon did not expect to see a White Direwolf come to his rescue last minute, nor an arrow to silence an oncoming screaming attack from harming Shaggydog. 

It is then that he sees his half-brother Jon, and surprisingly the Turncloak Theon fighting alongside the Glovers and Reeds as they take back the castle. There are battles raging on all around, and it's when the final forces of the retreating men are ambushed outside that Rickon knows they won. 

They cannot let the traitors escape, no. Not one Bolton or their bannermen can be left alive. So the Northern forces attack without mercy, killing any man that dared betrayed House Stark, and by extension, the entire North. 

As men die by their swords, maces, and Direwolves, Rickon sees a dirty man running to a horse, and he can tell, even from his position on Shaggy, that the man is Ramsey Snow. The Raping, murdering bastard of Roose Bolton.

"Go get him Shaggy!" Rickon commands as he jumps off the Direwolf and the beast makes his way to Ramsey.

The man is too far though, fast as Shaggydog is, Rickon knows that Ramsey will escape and that in itself is a loss. No one, not anyone with Bolton blood can survive. The Boltons had been their rivals for hundreds of years, and the attempt on the King's life was the last offense they could take. 

Just as Ramsey was about to touch the reins of the horse, Rickon watched as an arrow zoomed through the air and went right through Ramsey's testicles and penis. The man screamed a high pitched cry of agonizing pain as blood poured from his genitals, staining his clothes. The arrow had come from Theon, who seemed rather proud of his shot.

Before Ramsey could even register what was happening, another Direwolf was now on him, mauling him and feasting on his flesh.

Rickon knew that the Wolf was Lady and screamed in joy. 

Lady looked up at Rickon from her meal, she was starving it looked like, skinny for her large size and her once shiny coat was covered in dirt and grime. The beast looked at Rickon with hungry eyes until she sniffed the air and tackled him. Loving rubbing her bloody snout all over Rickon, and covering him with the blood of Ramsey Snow. 

Shaggydog then tackled Lady, before Ghost got in on the play war, and then all three direwolves were on Ramsey, eating him. Rickon chuckles as he watched Ramsey's body get eaten. 

Jon and Theon had come up to him, both dressed in Night's Watch clothes and it didn't take a genius to know the implication that their presence gave. Theon must have joined the Night's watch to erase all his crimes and then after hearing of Robb's survival both men abounded the watch to help the cause. In another situation, Rickon would have wondered what would now happen to his brother since he knew that his father would do deserts, then it was war, and Robb would send a thousand men to the wall to save Jon's life. 

Rickon hugged Jon close and his quiet half-brother hugged him back. There were tears in his eyes he was sure, but he did not hide them, nor was he ashamed. He broke apart from Jon and looked at Theon, who was hanging back. Rickon nodded his way but said nothing. Theon still betrayed them, and one good dead would not erase the bad. 

Lyanna Mormont had found them and after she had finished lecturing him about the dangers of losing the only Stark in the North, two had gone about inspecting and gathering Ramsey's head. He could tell his brother was disturbed, but Rickon knew they had to send a message. 

Jon had help decapitate Ramsey and they had placed his head on a spike pointing south, in the direction of King's Landing. The belonged to the Starks again.

Rickon found out that after leading the charge to retake Winterfell, he was now called the Prince who won the North. He hoped his family would be proud of him.

Daenerys 

Daenerys starred at the message in front of her, not believing it, she was shaking, joy, disbelief, and anger all at once. It might have been a trap, could be a trap, but if what Varys was anything to be right, and he usually was, this was an offer she could not turn down.

An invitation to return to King's Landing, not for war, but to be a Queen and join the Targaryen house with House Lannister. She would have to marry the King, but she would gain the Iron Throne and passage home...A choice had to be made.

Robb

They arrive at Dragonstone without trouble, and the Onion Knight shows him to his room. Stannis will meet with him on the morrow, but for now, the King was busy. Robb did not protest. They had ridden without stop, and some rest would do him good, even if he would not sleep much.

Robb arranged his room into a small war room and studied a map that he had set up. Grey Wind slept near the bed on a blanket that had been laid on the floor, tired from the journey. 

The door to his room opened, and Robb already knew who it was.

Dacey Mormont walked into the room, looking exhausted herself, and sat on the bed, scratching Grey Wind's ear when he licked her hands. Robb abounded his map and joined Dacey Mormont on the bed.

"So, here we are," Dacey said as he yawned softly.

"Aye," he replied. "Here we are." Robb yawned as well.

They were tired, beyond tired, exhausted honestly, yet that didn't stop them from talking. They talked about their families, both hoping their mothers were okay. Spoke about battle plans, comparing bears and swords, and even taking bets if the Red Witch was actually a witch-like his mother had told him.

After a few hours, Dacey had fallen asleep in his bed, Robb made the choice not to sleep in bed with her. God Forbid rumors stark. No, he wasn't ready for that, nor did he want Dacey mother to kill him. King or not, a woman's daughter was her daughter.

Robb got off the bed, but just as he did, Dacey grabbed his arm. She did not say anything, nor did she look at him, but the implication was there that she did not want him to leave her.

So instead, Robb took a spot on the floor next to Grey Wind and lets his backrest on the side bed near her pillow. Grey Wind falls into his lap, while Dacey falls asleep in the bed, letting her head rest close to his as she sleeps.

Davos

The Onion night returns later in the night to offer King dinner but opens the door to a charming sight. The great Young Wolf, King of the North and Trident, was sleeping on the floor with his head resting near the bed's pillow and his Direwolf's head in his lap, while his trusted Knight, Lady Dacey Mormont, slept in his bed with her head next to his body.

Davos closes the door gently, not waking them and walks out.

As Davos walks to go find the Princess Shireen, he thinks that tonight he will tell her the story of the Young Wolf and She-Bear. 

Chapter Text

They call him the Young Wolf...

Stannis

In the early days of the war, Stannis had mixed feeling of Robb Stark. He was Eddard Stark's oldest son, one of the only men Stannis could honestly say he respected. Ned had been a good man, and he would mourn his passing till his dying day. Looking at Ned's Son Stannis realized that Robb too was a good man. He had his doubts about the young Stark, and after Robb had been named King, Stannis had wanted him dead, but it was clear that the boy did not want the Iron Thron. He did not want anything but justice for his family and to go home. A desire that Stannis could more than sympathize with.

Stannis longed to go home. His real home. To Storm's End. The home where he had been raised with his brothers.

Thoughts of Renly and Robert began to fill his mind, and Stannis pushed them away. There was no time for that. No time at all.

The two kings had begun laying their battle plans even further. The West had the Umbers, Karstarks, Manderlys and the Brotherhood without Banners, the Queen Mother Catelyn and Princess Arya were working on the Vale, and he and the Young Wolf would deal with King's Landing. It came to his attention that it was not good enough to just win the throne, but he had to win the people as well. Stannis had never thought that ideal true, but it was clear that the people could make or break any king. Robb Stark was named King by his people, his younger brother had his allies back his claim, even Robert, who at his best was not the greatest king, had been king for as long as he was because the people loved him.

The people did not love the Lannisters. They hated them with a passion, or as a Robb Stark joked, "With a Fury".

The Stark boy chuckled at his own pun, and even Stannis found offering the young man a small smirk. 

Finally, Stannis asked the question that had been bothering him since the day he heard that Robb had been named king.

"Why are you fighting, Stark?" He asked bluntly. "What do you want from all this?"

Robb let his hands rest on the large map that lay before them, the young man exhaled a breath, one he might have been holding in since the meeting began. "I want justice," Robb gritted his teeth in rage "My father is dead, my wife and unborn child, countless Northern men..." He pounded the table with his fist, Stannis did not flinch nor did the wolf wake up from his slumber. "The Lions have been allowed to do what they please for far too long. I am no fool, Baratheon. I know my history. I know how the Lannisters sat back until the end of the rebellion then only sacked King's Landing when it was clear your brother would win the war. I know what his mad dog did to Princess Elia Martell and her children." 

Stannis saw how Robb's rage leaked into his voice as he talked about the fate of Elia Martell and her children. It was no secret the King in the North had a soft spot for children, maybe it was because he was but a boy himself when the war had begun. He thought about his bastard nephew Edric Storm and was filled with shame. Robb Stark had killed Rickard Karstark, a man who shared the same, if not very distant and deluded, blood as his out of justice for murdering the Lannister boys, but he was willing to give his own bastard Nephew to the Red Woman to further his cause.

"Eli Martell deserved better," Robb said, mourning a woman he had never met nor would ever. "Her children deserved better, the north deserved better than a man like Tywin Lannister!" Robb pounded the table again in rage. 

'So this is the rage of the wolf...' Stannis thought to himself as he watched the Young Wolf beat the table in rage for a moment longer, losing himself in his own controlled rage. It was only when Grey Wind whined at his feet did he see the rage in the young man's eyes finally fade.

Robb sighed and placed the fallen pieces of the map back on the table. "The realm will never be at peace until men like Tywin Lannister are dead. The Old Lion Tywin Lannister must die, the Lioness Cersei Lannister, The Spider Varys, the old doddering fool Pycelle, and the traitorous bastard Petyr Baelish...until these men are all dead, my family will never be safe."

"You do this for your family?" Stannis asked, speaking for the first time.

"Yes," Robb Said softly. "I do this for my family. I did this for Sansa."

"I would have saved her if I had won the battle of Blackwater." Stannis said, gaining a shocked looked from Robb "I would not have harmed her. If you kneeled, I would have returned her to you."

Robb chuckles darkly. "And I might have considered it. The Lannisters would have been dead and I would be given my sister back."

"Well, there's always next time." Stannis joked dry, not even cracking a smirk.

The two kings stared at each other and then both men laughed lightly at the dark humor.

At that moment a knock was heard at the door, Grey Wind ear's perked up. "Enter," Stannis said as he beckoned the knocker in.

In came Dacey Mormont, the young wolf's trusted sworn sword. She entered the room holding a letter in her hand.

Stannis had heard some whispers through Dragon Stone since the pair arrived, yet he did not partake, rumors were for young girls and schemers. The Young Wolf and She-Bear were only close allies and all talks of a nothern romance were just hush rumors...He did wish his daughter would stop writing her little stories about the pair though. He knew Shireen could get bored, but if he had to read one more fictional story about Robb Stark and Dacey Mormont he would be forced to break his oath and go back to war with them.

The woman kneeled and offered an apology for interrupting their meeting, then she smiled brightly at Robb Stark and held out the letter to him.

Robb took the letter and Stannis watched at the young king's face broke out in the largest smile he had ever seen.

Dacey 

Dragonstone was boring. It had only been maybe a week since they had arrived at the former Targaryen stronghold, yet it bored her to tears. She had trained with the soldiers, yet found herself besting them, none really giving her a great challenge. Robb had been busy with Stannis from sunrise till sunset, and she did not mind if her King was occupied by. Riverrun had been the most time she had spent with Young Wolf since he had fostered at Bear Island as a boy for a year. They had only been at Riverrun for a few months but it had gone faster than she had expected. So as Robb was busy, and Grey Wind would never leave his side, she found her time being spent with the Princess Shireen.

The Princess was a sweet girl, very smart, and it turned out the girl rather enjoyed writing stories. One story was actually about the Young Wolf and herself. When Dacey had asked the princess what made her come up with that idea, the girl said that the Onion Knight had inspired the tale.

Dacey made a note to kill the old man when the war was over. Stannis wouldn't have a problem finding a new Hand of the King...He was a likable man.

Dacey wondered what she would do after the war was over. She was her mother's heir after all, and as heir, she would have to return to Bear Island and relieve her poor little sister who had been thrown into the role of Lady of Bear Island until her sisters returned. At the thought of her sisters, Dacey sighed. She missed them so dearly. She had not seen any of them since before the Red Wedding, which was almost a year ago at this point. Alysane, Lyra, Jorelle, and little Lyanna, Gods she missed her sisters. 

As she thought about her sisters, the Onion Knight had come to her holding a letter in his hand.

"Ah, Ser Davos, I was meaning to speak with you," Dacey growled, eyes gleaming in rage. "The Princess tells me you have inspired some interesting tales of King Robb and I."

Davos laughed to himself, holding out his hand with the missing fingers in surrender. "Oh, my lady I would be no good in a trial by combat, but I do have something that may please the King in the North."

Ser Davos then handed her an opened letter, and her eyes widened in shock. "Gods! The King may not kill you yet, Ser Davos."

"I would prefer that." Ser Davos said with a chuckle.

Dacey had then knocked on the door to the King Stannis' war room and entered after hearing the man's call. Kneeling before the Kings, she offered the letter to Robb who gently took it.

Robb

"In the name of Robb of the House Stark, King in the North and the Trident, Lord of Winterfell, and Protector of the North, I, Rickon of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Prince of the North, sentence Tywin Lannister and Joffrey Waters to die. House Lannister is now branded an enemy of the North. We will not kneel to the false Golden Stag nor the Lions. Joffrey Waters, the incest born bastard of the Kingslayer Ser Jaime Lannister and former Queen Regent Cersei Lannister, is not our King. The Iron Born are gone, my brother, Bran Stark and I live! House Bolton is dead and Winterfell is now and forever occupied by a Stark. The North remembers the sins committed by the Lions and we will not rest until House Lannister has paid the debts they have collected through blood. I have sent this letter to all of Westeros, so you may know that the North will never forget. Winter is coming and it is the time of wolves."

Stannis had found his way to Robb's side and read the letter along with him, and the Baratheon let out an earthy chuckle, perhaps the loudest laugh Robb had ever heard from the man.

"Gods, I may give my daughter's hand to your brother." He muttered. The man had never thought much of the youngest Stark, but there was now a new found respect for the little Stark.

The Young Wolf could not contain the face-splitting smile that had found itself on his face. His baby brother, the Wild Wolf of Winterfell, was alive! Not only alive, the little runt had taken back Winterfell! Their home, the capital of the North. So many questions were in his head, but he could only think of one thing to do. 

"Excuse me, your grace, I must respond to this letter" With that Robb exited the room, Dacey and Grey Wind trailing close behind him. 

The three entered Robb's room and he closed the door behind him. He paced the room, not even able to hold in his excitement. His brother was alive! Winterfell was the Starks again! His brother would now be called the Prince who won the North! 

"My brother is alive!" Robb said excitedly to Dacey, who was bursting out the seems with joy herself. She had only met the Wild Wolf less than a handful of times, but Robb could see the relief in her eyes as well. 

It was at that moment Robb felt overtaken by a sense of happiness that he hadn’t felt in ages and he picked up Dacey and spun the knight around, not an easy task since the woman was his equal in height, but he found her slender body not as heavy as it appeared in armor. Dacey laughed as he spun her around. Grey Wind barked happily, running around the two, which was a rather humors sight since the Direwolf was now almost fully grown and could topple them both.

When Robb finally placed Dacey down, she placed both of her hands on his face, fingers touching his shaven face as he laced his around her upper waist. He could not hide the large smile on his face and she smiled fondly back at him.

"I am happy for you, Young Pup." She jested sweetly. 

Robb could not take his eyes away from hers and he sighed deeply, resting his forehead against hers. "I thought him dead, I thought Bran dead." 

"I know." She whispered softly. "Go write to your mother. She will want to know your brothers live."

He found himself lost in her eyes, and for a moment, just that moment, Robb felt himself lean forward and eyes close.

"You lost this war the day you married her." Rickard Karstark's words echoed in his voice.

"The King who lost the North." His words grew louder.

Robb stopped himself, not daring to move closer. He held her close for a few moments longer, enjoying the warm of Dacey's body, he then let the knight go, remembering himself. "Thank you, My Lady. You have been one of the best knights I could have ever had." 

Dacey smiled sadly at his words, but he did not understand why, maybe she was missing her own siblings. 

"It is an honor, Your Grace, and think nothing of it." She replied to him.

He offered her another large smile and grabbed a parchment to write his mother. He would not dishonor another, not lose another because he was a foolish boy. No. He would accept this win. News of Bran and Rickon had almost cost him the war, he would not let this news do the same.

Dacey sat next to him, and punched him roughly in the arm, yet offered him a playful smile. "I will not let you spoil this moment with you brooding Stark nature, Young Pup! She growled. 

"As you wish, Lady cub." He jested back at her lightly as he began to write. 

Dacey beamed and rested her head on Robb's shoulder, sighing in content. "We will kill the Lions and then we will go home. Maybe get Grey Wind a Bitch to hump."

Grey Wind howled happily. 

The Young Wolf howled as well.

Tyrion

When the letter from Prince Rickon Stark had reached King's Landing, Tyrion was sure that the Gods were now laughing at the Lannisters for thinking they could mock the many of the laws set down. He wondered if it was too late to book passage to Bravos? He wondered what Essos was like at this time of year? Dronish tits might be nice. Oh, right. He was a Lannister and was borderline an enemy of the damn country thanks to his father's mad dog.

The small council, minus his father, had sat around the table bickering for hours on what to do. There were more Starks that had been before this damned Red Wedding. Every month it just seemed like more of them were popping back up, even if they were thought dead. He was half expecting Ned Stark's bloody head to come back to life and start spitting shit on Joffrey if this trend kept up. Maybe the ashes of Rickard Stark would form a sentient ash monster and kill them all. Or perhaps Brandon Stark would unstranggle himself. Oh, the possibilities. 

The twit Littlefinger had been missing since the Red Wedding had been revealed as a failure. His father had ordered him to secure the Vale through Lysa Tully, but he had not returned. 

Varys was uninterested, and more than likely the man already knew. 

His sister was no help, her mind elsewhere.

And his nephew...well.

"I will kill that little cunt!" Joffrey raged throwing a fit. The boy had already been on the losing end of trying to control Sansa Stark, and now that he had been publicly shamed...Well, the boy was lost in rage. "I want every soldier! Every damned soldier to go to the North and-"

Tyrion had left after that, not willing to hear the boy king anymore.

Hours later, and much wine, Tyrion had found himself in the training yard as the sun began to set, and as he expected, there was Sansa Stark practicing her sword work.

Loras Tyrell had left with all the other Tyrells and since he had not been officially sworn into the King's Guard, he could not be held up to an oath he did not take as of yet, so the Crown could do nothing. The Tyrells had been one of the Lannister's biggest slights, but with Baratheon and Stark calling for their blood, there would be no point in going to war with the Tyrells. Sure, they would win in the end, but at what cost? The only reason they had even managed to last as long as they did was the fact that Rob Stark was unlucky and Stannis Baratheon unloved, but now, the Lannisters were both unlucky and unloved, and even worse, the fear that their father had used to command respect for their family was fading. His father was desperate and he feared what would come next if he would admit it.

Sansa danced around the training dummy, still sloppy at times, but her time with Loras had helped her greatly. 

Finally, the girl sethed her sword and sheathed and sat next to Tyrion. 

Sansa

She must have been a sight Sansa mused to herself. dirty, covered in sweat, wearing clothes fit for a man, oh, how Arya would laugh if she could see her now. 

"My Lord," She said as she sheathed her sword and sat down next to him, smiling brightly.

"I would assume you have heard the news from Winterfell," Tyrion stated.

Sansa held out the parchment, smiling cheekily. "I did indeed, My Lord. It would be safe to assume King Joffrey is not pleased." 

Tyrion sighed. "Yes, my nephew is indeed very pleased. So please he wants to send every soldier in our army to destroy Winterfell." 

Sansa rolled her eyes. "That would not be wise, not at all. Winterfell only fell because of Theon Turncloak. It won't fall twice." She had faith in her family. From the letter, Rickon had sent she had been able to tell that her youngest brother had been a wise little Prince and he would sooner die than ever leave home. He was a Stark, and there must always be a Stark in Winterfell.

"I won't be able to stay forever, My Lord." She said after a beat of silence. "The Lannisters and Starks will not both survive this war. One of our houses must die." 

Tyrion did not disagree with her, instead, he just sighed loudly and drank more wine that he had hidden away in a large vile. 

"Indeed Princess Sansa." Tyrion finished the vile. "You're training has been progressing well, even with Ser Loras gone."

Sansa nodded, not informing her "husband" that Lady Tarth had taken up the role of training. The large woman who had come with the King Slayer was a treat, yet she seemed like she needed to tell her something. It bothered her, but she could wait.

Jaime

Cersei had left him, abounding their love without reasons. So now he was left alone. Jaime was not sure what would become of his life now. He could not fight like he use to, nor did he have the same place he could have in his family. He mused that maybe he could take up his father's offer of becoming his heir, but what was the point? The West was burning thanks to the North and the Baratheons were breathing down their necks. This was the end of days for the Lannisters so why other is trying to hide it.

So instead of fighting, Jaime and his golden hand walked the streets of King's Land now and again. Of course, there would be some heckler or trouble, but Bronn cut them down before things got out of hand, an act that always made him agitated since he had missed being able to do his own fighting. He was working with Bronn, but it would take years to able to fight even half as good as he had once been, even Sansa Stark, a woman who had only been with the sword for a few months, could more than likely hold her own against the man he was now.

Jaime found himself one night walking the streets with Bronn, following him to his fondest whore house until he had almost tripped over a young girl that had been abounded on the ground. His better instincts getting the best of him, he tried to wake the girl, only for her to mumble out a name "Arya Stark." And then passed out.

After asking Bronn to do some digging for him, It turned out the girl was supposed to be trained by Littlefinger to be bred as a wife for the Bolton bastard, but now that House Bolton was dead and Littlefinger had vanished, the girl was of no use and had been cast aside.

Just like him..

Sansa

One day Sansa had found herself being led by Brienne of Tarth, a giant woman seemed to finally be delivering on the secret Sansa knew she had. Brienne had guided the Red Wolf out of the Red Keep, and by the Gods she was so happy to be anywhere, even for a moment without being followed, but of course, there was always someone watching. It didn't matter if it was a guard or spy, someone was always watching her. That in itself must of been the reason why the Female Knight felt the need to lead her down so many different roads and corners until she found herself in some small building. 

Brienne then sat Sansa down and sat across from her.

"Do you know what I brought you here, Lad-"

"Princess." She corrected the knight without missing a beat.

"Princess Sansa,"  she corrected herself. "There is someone you must speak to, a girl, a girl who claims to be your sister." 

Sansa looked at Brienne in doubt. "My sister is with my mother and brother." 

"I know," Brienne replied, "Yet that is why you must speak with her."

It was then a small, pretty girl with eyes as brown as her hair walked out into the open and Sansa felt her mouth gaped open.

"Jeyne?" Sansa asked shaking. She had not seen Jeyne Poole since she had hidden away in the tower when her father had been arrested. The girl, now young woman looked so much different...so fragile.

Sansa stood up and slowly made her way to the girl, she reached to touch Jeyne, but she flinched.

"It's okay," Sansa said softly as she attempted to touch Jeyne again, and this time the girl let her. "It's me. Sansa Stark of Winterfell."

It was then that Jeyne's mind seemed to of remembered her and the girl's face flushed with pain and sadness before she tackled Sansa, crying into her arms.

Sansa held her childhood friend close, crying for the first time in many moons. Suddenly she was no longer the only northern girl in a city of lions.

The Tyrells abounding the Lannisters had left them in a bad spot. No more would the reach give food to King's Land, and Joffrey, the good king that he was, was letting whatever he had gotten be delivered only the crown, letting the people fight for scraps. 

That went as well as one would think.

Riots soon erupted throughout King's landing, which was not an unordinary occurrence, but one particular riot had managed to breach the Red Keep when one disgruntled guard had stopped giving a rightful shit about the crown. 

It was at that time Sansa Stark had made it her move to escape. 

Jeyne, who Tyrion had manage to convince his father to make her a handmaiden for the crown, was scared, yet Sansa had managed to calm her friend with the promise of home.

Quickly grabbing scissors, the girl chopped off her hair into a short and uneven cut, not even bothering to mourn the loss of her fiery locks. She wore her training clothes, and proudly admired how little she looked like a Lady. Gods, Arya would be proud of her. She then did the same thing to Jeyne, who gave her no trouble except for when she had flinched when Sansa had brought the scissors down on her hair the first time.

Thankfully Brienne had not been far off, the woman had become the shadow and was quickly making her way to Sansa's quarters to protect her. 

What came next was simple, but not easy. Brienne and Sansa fought their way through the riot, simple because Brienne was able to pass the girls off as squire as hers. Lose training clothes and some nearby blood and grime had disguised the girls well. 

They slipt through the battle, fought when they had to, and finally, the three made it to...Jaime Lannister.

"Kingslayer!" Sansa growled raising her sword. In the Red Keep, she could not attack the clawless lion in fear of Tywin's rage, yet this was not the Red Keep.

To his credit, Jaime, who had half expected the attack, caught Sansa's sword in his golden hand and slapped her to the ground with his other hand.

"If that is all, Stark Wench, I would like to continue rescuing you," Jaime said to her. 

Sansa spits some blood out of her mouth that had formed after she had bit down on her cheek accidentally because of the slap. "Why, Kingslayer?"

Jaime at first did not answer, but offered his flesh to her, the same hand he had slapped her with. Sansa, not really having many options, took Jaime's hand.

"I made an oath to your mother. That is all." Jaime said to her.

Sansa did not argue with that and the four made their way to some horses that Jaime had stashed away. 

She would not forgive the Kingslayer. No, not after what he had done to her family. That being said, yet she had offered genuine thanks to him. She then watched as he and Brienne shared some tender words between each other, but they made their way out of King's Landing. 

Jeyne cried, holding onto her, and Sansa cried too. They were free and nothing would bring them back.

It had been a long time since they had escaped King's Landing. They had ridden non stop until the horses could not be pushed anymore. They found themselves in the Riverlands, staying in an abounded keep. They would stay there for one night and leave after the horses had been fed.

Brienne had been out hunting while Sansa had stayed with Jeyne. The girl would not handle being left alone yet, and she did not want to leave her for Jeyne was the only connection she had to Winterfell.

So they talked. They shared their horror stories of King's Landing. Sansa had thought her time in the Lion's den had been horrible, but Jeyne...oh Poor Jeyne. The things that had been done to the girl of the North, what she had been trained to do. Sansa wanted to kill everyone. It did not help her when she had heard that Littlefinger had been the one to issue her "training".

She swore she would have that man killed, and she would swing the sword like her Lord Father would have done. By the Gods, she wished that her Uncle Brandon Stark had finished the duel with the petty man.

"I missed you, Sansa," Jeyne whispered into the night as the laid on the cold floor together. There was no bed, but both girls had worse. "My father...he's dead." 

"Mine is too," Sansa offered sadly to her friend as she edged herself closer and held the Poole woman. "But we mustn't let the Lions win, Jeyne. We must get to the North, to my brother Prince Rickon Stark."

Jeyne cried harder.

"Sansa, I am not a Princess, I am not even a Lord's daughter!" She cried. "I am stewards daughter who's only skill is being used as a whor-"

Sansa cut Jeyne off by hugging her tightly. "You are Jeyne Poole! A daughter of the North. It does not matter who bore you, what crimes were committed against you. You are special to the North, and you are special to me! May the Gods be damned themselves if they disagree." 

Jeyne, to her credit, did not cry, no instead Jeyne melted into Sansa's embrace and stayed there the whole night, falling asleep.

The Princess held the daughter of the North close, not letting her own doubts and personal nightmares show while she held Jeyne. "I will protect you." She whispered to Jeyne as she slept.

Arya

When they had finally arrived at the Eyrie, her mother had gone to speak with her aunt while she had stayed behind with Gendry, who she refused to call "Ser Gendry". 

The two were training amongst the Knights of the Vale. Yohn Royce watched them trained, praising Arya's water dancing, and questioning if Gendry actually been descendent of a bull since he compared his footwork to that of a castrated one. 

Arya had decided she loved Yohn like a grumpy uncle who knew how to stab things. 

Her cousin Robert was, well he was a wimp. A big little wimp who looked like a gust of wind could blow him away. 

When Arya had found her mother and aunt, the two were engaged in a screaming match, she had never seen her mother so enraged.

"Your nephew almost died! Our father's Kingdom was raped and people butchered! Yet you sit here in your castle in the sky waiting. Waiting for what, Lysa? Your boy will not live long enough to be a man grown if the Lion chooses to come for him! You ran from Robert's offer to send your boy to the Rock, what will you do when the old lion demands Sweetrobin?!"

Lysa hissed in rage. "Don't you dare-"

"Or what dear Sister? Do you intend to threaten me twice with your moon door?" 

Arya growled, Nymeria, in turn, growled louder at her side. "What did you do, Aunt Lysa?" Arya said dangerously low.

Catelyn and Lysa turned to look at her, her aunt backing away at the sight of the large wolf. 

"Sister, why must we fight?" Her mother begged. "Stand with me and fight!"

"I will not put my son in danger!" Lysa screamed back. "Petyr promised that-" Lysa clapped her hands over her mouth and Catelyn stalked forward to her slowly, eyes in slits, voice low. Her mother had tried to appeal to her as a Tully, yet now she was a Stark, the mother of Wolves.

"Lysa," Her mother said slowly. "What did Petyr promise you?" Catelyn was now staring her sister down, her ice blue Tully eyes were merciless and cold as the wall. "Did he promise you that the Old Lion would not harm the vale?" Her voice was now mocking and dark, "Did Petyr say he would raise Robert as his own..." Catelyn barked out a fake laugh, "Now I see, he had done when he has always done, had he claimed he loved you and adored you? Oh, sweet Lysa..."

Lysa was now fuming with rage "The hells with you, sister! Petyr loves me!" 

"No, he doesn't, Lysa." Catelyn spat coldly. "He has only ever claimed to love me, but it is nothing but an obsession. He will NEVER love you, or anyone for that matter!" Catelyn saw the crack in her sister's mind, and she would break it. "He will never love you, Lysa. He never has. You are a pawn to him. A puppet in his game for the power he so craves!"

"Liar!" Lysa screamed back, tears running down her face. "He swore he loved me! He made love to me! Promised us a life, proclaimed that I was the only woman he loved! That not even that old fool Jon could love me. That's why he had to die!"

Lysa did not know that her screaming had attracted many Knights of the Vale to the room, worried about their Lady's safety, but at the outburst of Lady Arryn, none knew what to do.

"Oh, sister," Catelyn said sadly. "What have you done?"

Her aunt snarled at her mother. "Oh, now you care dear sister?!" Lysa screamed. "You are given to Ned, and I am tossed to an old man, forced to marry-"

Catelyn slapped Lysa across the face. "Our homelands were sacked, people murdered and raped, and tell me Lysa do you know where Edmure is?" Catelyn asked.

Her aunt looked away "No." She whispered.

"That makes two of us." Her mother spat. "Last time I saw him he was being carried off by the Freys to bed his wife, but Gods know what actually happens to him! It has been almost a year, Lysa! A year and you have not done anything for our family. Our house words are Family, Duty, and Honor! You have shown none of this." 

Lysa did not know what to say, so she looked away.

"Seven Hells..." Arya muttered under her breath.

Lysa, now stripped of rank and title, was now another held in her room under arrest. Her mother would go to her every day to try and talk to her, but she would not speak. Time would still progress and Catelyn had convinced the Vale to fight for the Starks. They had felt dishonored not fighting the first time, but their Lady's word was law, but now that Lysa was apprehended. It was nothing for them to declare themselves to the wife of the late, but beloved Eddard Stark. They had declared Robb their king and bent the knee to his Queen mother.

Then the day had come when her mother had found all the letters that Littlefinger and her aunt had been exchanging. Every letter held the instructions to burn them after they were delivered, but Lysa kept every damned letter. Her mother had figured it was because she loved him so much.

The letters turned into her aunt's sins. Everything, from the poison of Jon Arryn to instigating the war with the Lannisters, betraying her father, and so much more. 

"She will have to be put to death," Catelyn said sadly, hanging her head low. This woman was not her sister. She might of lookedat Lysa, but no, her sweet sister was dead, whoever this just bored her face. 

"Please do not hate her, Arya." Her mother had said to her one night. "She is what this game does to you, twist and turns you into something you are not." 

Her mother blamed Litlefinger and refused to ever call him by his real name again. 

The Vale would now want his head, but Lysa had already warned him of their impending arrival. Her mother had not known Aunt Lysa was that lost and did not think it wrong to warn her. 

Arya was not worried though. There would be nowhere for Littlefinger to hide. The wolves would have him dead. 

Lysa's execution was not public. None had been there but the Starks and some knights of the Vale. Sweetrobin would not watch.

'No child should ever have to witness a parent's death.' Arya thought somberly.

Catelyn would not throw her sister through the moon door, no she would end her life with dignity. 

"In the name of Robb of house Stark, I, Catelyn of house Tully and Stark, Queen mother of the North and Lady of the Riverlands, sentence you to die," Catelyn said the words as a low whisper, crying freely. 

Her aunt did not scream, she did not say a word. All she did was cry silently, and Arya cried as well. This was their family, but thanks to this war they had no choice. Her mother would not ask someone else to do the deed. Lysa would not survive at the wall, and she would not jail the silent sisters. 

"I love you, Lysa." Catelyn whispered through tears.

The sword was brought down on Lysa, and her mother let out an anguished cry to the Gods, cursing them with her tears. 

Then the letter came. Two actually! One from Winterfell and one from Robb.

Her mother had not been herself since she had executed Lysa, and when Arya had come running into the former Jon Arryn's solar with a happy Nymeria and a flustered Gendry, who for no reasons she could remember had lips that had been bright pink, almost like they had been bruised from kissing, no Arya had no idea...A small smile found its way to her face when she looked back at the older boy, only for him to avoid her gaze.

Baby.

Arya held out the letter to her mommy-mother. Her mother. She had said mommy by accident in front of Gendry and the damned bastard would now mock her day and night. He still would cringe whenever he'd thought the memory in a jest to her. She noted to punch him later. 

Catelyn took the letter and read Robb's words than the one from Winterfell, and started to cry tears of Joy, which caused Arya to cry.

Seven hells she hated crying!

"Your brothers live!" Catelyn screamed in joy picking Arya up with a strength she did not know she had.

Joffrey

Joffrey paced back and forth through his chambers. The rioters had practically ruined the Red Keep. His guards had put them, traitors, down, but that did not excuse their acts! He would punish the peasants at first chance. He would-

The door to his chambers was kicked open. 

Joffrey ran to his crossbow that had been on a nearby table, but he was rushed by the first intruder and held down on the ground.

”You filthy-“

His words were cut off by his attacker bringing down a fist on Joffrey’s back. Then again, and again, and-

Joffrey's world had gone black.

When he had come to, he had been placed on his knees in a dark room. There was no entrance, no window, barely any lighter than that of a candle. He could not speak since his mouth was gagged with a dirty cloth, and hands bound tightly by ropes. 

A hooded man then brought in Lord Varys. Then the man that smelled of silk perfume began to speak, but was thrown to his knees and beheaded without another moment. 

Joffrey screamed through the gag in his mouth. 

This was it, the dirty traitors must have taken the city while the riots were taken this.

Was this Robb Stark? His uncle Stannis? 

The next was brought in was the sneaky man Littlefinger.

The man looked haggard, bloody, and holding onto life by willpower alone. 

Joffrey watched in horror as the man was thrown into his knees and he too then lost his head to the voiceless executioner.

It was a horror. He had to watch as man after man was brought in to be killed. Ilyn Payne, Meryn Trant, Osmund Kettleblack, Boros Blount, and finally Pycelle was killed. Joffrey had lost control of his bowels and bladder at the time and was crying in his own filth. He was then beaten. Beaten in ways he did not know a man could be beaten, and then finally he was thrown in the blacks cells.

Time...time had become lost to him. The beatings, the watching men die. He always thought he was strong, but there was nothing in him that could survive this. In the black cells, you could not tell what time of a day it was, how many days had passed. All he had known was that once a...whenever, a man would come into his cell, drag him into a dark room, make him watch as some men were killed, then beat him. Some days he cried, other dies he pissed or shit himself, but lately, he did nothing. It did not matter. He was not leaving this place.

He had long ago stopped thinking of who was doing this, but rather the why, and try as he might, he could not pick a single individual. There were just too many, 

So Joffrey Baratheon, or Lannister, or Waters, or whatever the hell the people were now calling him sat in his own filth inside the black cells. Eyes bloodshot, yet dry. There were no more tears he could cry. No, that was over. Whoever was doing this did not care.

 They had eventually removed his gag, but that did nothing. Any insults he screamed did not faze, any promises he made did not intense All he could do was accept his impending fate.

At last, the day had come when it was his turn, Joffrey had been thrown on top of a chopping block, a giant ax above his head. 

A voice then called out to him. 

"Will beg for mercy?" A cold voice said to him.

Joffrey looked out into the darkness, chapped lips parting and glassy green eyes tired. "I will beg for nothing," Joffrey said calmly. He hung his head on the block and starred at the hooded man. "Let this debt be paid and I be free of his cursed prison." 

The hooded man said nothing, nor did he make an action. Instead, he starred down at Joffrey before removing the mask, and the old, cold eyes of his Grandfather was staring back down at him.

Joffrey's eyes widen, and the boy king laughed as he started to cry through his maddening giggles. Tywin still did not say a word, even when the boy's cries starting echoing throught the black cells. 

Daenerys

It had not been easy to travel to King's landing...well maybe she wasn't being honest. It had been easy physically, but mentally it was a nightmare. She had not slept, no not since she had boarded a ship that the Lannisters had sent to gather her from Essos. Her children were not pleased, yet they complied after some coxing from her. The dragon Queen felt a sense of...lost as she sailed home to Westeros. She had been on her way to Pentos, but what was the point? Yes, returning may have been a trap, and it did not sit well with her at all. She was no fool, her brother had taught her the ways of the Lion, yet...Here she was on a boat back to Westeros. She had done her best to avoid Ser Jorah Mormont after he had confessed his love for her, and while a part of her did find the idea...favorable. Drago was still too fresh in her mind. 

Maybe that was why she had left. To escape Drago's ghost...her brother's ghost.

When she had arrived at King's Landing, the sight before her eyes had brought her to gentle tears. The sigil of her house, House Targaryen flew proudly among the Lion's. The people of the Red Keep had all come to greet her. Whispers of the "Dragon Queen." and the "Lion's wife." Were whispered as she walked. 

Against her better judgment, Daenerys felt a sense of happiness that she knew it her heart was foolish. These people knew her not, yet...it felt could to be a Queen, even if it were lies to persuade her.

Ser Jorah led her, along with the King's Guard to the Red Keep. People kneeled and bowed before her as she made her way to the center of the room, to the Throne itself. There Daenerys saw something King Joffrey. A young man who must of been close to her in age, yet he looked so much older. His eyes starred ahead of hers in a...searching kind of way, his hair was cropped short in an almost militant look, and unlike the Queen who was staring daggers at her, he was dressed not in fine filks, but a more combat oriented simple outfit like his grandfather.

The young King looked at her and smiled. It wasn't a cruel smile, nor was it a happy one. It was a smile that looked far off, yet placed on a face that seemed unsuited to smiling. "Welcome...my Queen."

Jon

Jon sat in his old room at Winterfell. The room was much smaller than he had remembered...that or he had just gotten bigger. He had been confined to the room ever since the battle of Wolves had ended. He had seen Theon get led to his old room as well, which had surprised him. He had assumed Theon would be killed on sight. Of course, he hadn't voiced that thought to Theon...much. Just now and again on the from leaving the wall, till when they had stormed Winterfell. 

He wondered if Robb would kill him. Their father had killed many deserters of the Night's Watch, so why wouldn't Robb follow in his duty?

The bastard of Winterfell shook his head. It was foolish to think those thoughts. Robb would never hurt him, even if he deserved it. He let his hand scratch Ghost's ear, showing the Direwolf some affection. The Wolf was allowed to leave of course, and he would leave to play with Lady and Shaggydog, but Ghost would always come back to him.

It then a knock was heard at his door.

"Come in." He said softly, letting his hands drop from Ghost's side.

A man walked into his chambers, a man he could not remember. 

"Hello, Jon." He greeted. "It has been some time."

Jon tilted his head in confusion. The man laughed softly.

"Forgive me, Jon. My name is Howland Reed. You would not remember since you were nothing but a babe when I had seen you last."  

Jon nodded his head, not really knowing what to say.

Howland sensed his uncertainty and rushed to the point. "I will not keep you, Jon. I just wanted to give you this." he reached into his pocket and handed Jon a letter.

"What is this?" Jon asked looking at the letter but stopped when he recognized his father's handwriting. "What the hell is this?!" He asked shooting up, as did Ghost, who had already stepped forward and showed his teeth silently at Howland. 

The smaller man held up his hands in a surrender. "It is something your father wanted me to give to you if he would pass. It is about your parents.

That had quite Jon down, who flopped down on his bottom on the bed. "My...my parents?" Jon asked.

"Yes, Ned wanted you to know everything one day...and well, here it is, Jon."

Jon stared at the letter and looked at it. This would tell him who he is...where he is, but yet...something in him didn't want to know as well.

He was the Bastard of Winterfell, the man who accepted his title and had left all that pain behind before he had gone to the wall.

Jon thanked Howland for the letter, and the man then left his room.

He wanted to open it, to read his father's words. Know about his mother, but...but what if it changed him?

What if his father had done something horrible. What happens if his mother was Cersei Lannister?! He had heard rumors that the Queen had tried to...persuade his father and...

Jon Shriver, blocking out the thought that he did not need. 

The Wolf of the Wall looked to the letter in his hands then to the candle next to him...He then burned the letter from his father. It pained him to do it, but the boy wanted to know who his mother is, but the man was content to know who his father had been and who his siblings were.

That was enough for him, bastard or not, he was a Stark. Helping take back Winterfell had proven that.

Greatjon

Maniacal glee was heard through the West as the Karstarks, Manderlys, and Umbers fucked up the south and by the Gods was it glorious! 

Greatjon had lost count how many Lannisters he killed, and not to stroke his own ego, those blokes did not stand a chance!

Sandor Glegane, who had come to fuck the King in any way shape or form, was having the time of his life. Greatjon watched the man mowed down Lannister force after Lannister force.

Castelyn Rock falls, and the Greatjon can only laugh at how everyone, including himself, would have never thought the Rock would fall. Yet here they fucking were! Drinking and laughing as Lannisters were either locked in their rooms like spoiled children or in the dungeons. 

Gods he wished King Robb was here to enjoy the moment. He would more than likely smile ear to ear and Dacey would love that. The two fucking kids thought him blind!!!!! Thought that he! The GREATJON UMBER! Could not see that the two were eye fucking each other harder than the bastard of Winterfell did the Red Wolf, or was that the Kraken that was checking Ned's daughter out? Gods he was drunk! 

The Greatjon threw his cup and quickly grabbed another.

Ah, he missed Cat. The mother of wolves had the North in her alright. She was fierce and more than a treat to talk to on his late night patrols. Yet she was at the Vale.

Greatjon had been getting everyone's letters. The Princes were alive, Winterfell had been taken back, Lysa Tully was a crazy bitch, which again, that last one every one knew. 

The Lord of Houe Umber found himself in Tywin's study, and as he casually browsed through the documents, he found many interesting things.

The Lannister mines were up, documentation proving that the Lannisters owed the Iron Bank Serious money, and...

By the Gods!

Greatjon roared in rage as he trashed Tywin's room in a blind rage, throwing everything into disarray. 

The letter was to Tywin Lannister from the late Talisa Maegyr, but in the letter her name was Jeyne...Jeyne of House Westerling of the Crag. The Greatjon raged and roared, destroying everything in Tywin's office before sitting with his head in his hands, mourning for the Young Wolf and the fallen comrades at the Twins. This girl...was she truly one of the Lannister's puppets? Had the Red Wedding happened for nothing?! Had his son died for nothing?!

"Gods...what has this boy done to deserve so much grief?" Greatjon whispered to himself as he thougt of his King.

Bran

Miles, miles, and miles away from all life, Bran Stark was carried by hodor out of the Three-Eyed-Crow's cave, and into the sunlight with Meera, Jojen, and Summer close behind him.

The gentle giant then placed Bran down.

The Third son of Eddard Stark's leg wobbled as he stood up, on his legs. 

Bran Stark, the broken Wolf, could walk again!

Chapter Text

Letters of Westeros

 Robb

Dear Rickon,

Where do I begin? I...I am so happy you are alive, baby brother. We thought you and Bran lost. There is so much I want to say, but I'm not sure how to word it. I can't express how sorry I am for failing you, brother. I should have been there for you. I'm sorry you had to deal with the Iron Borne, The Boltons, and whatever else Life has brought upon you since you've been gone. Please, tell me Bran is okay. In the last letter, you sent to all of the Lords that he was alive, but where? I will send my men to the ends of the earth to get him home. I will go myself. For mother, to see you boys alive would do her good that not even the Gods could match. I have heard rumors that the Iron Borne have fully retreated. It seems the Krakens cannot fight the Wolves. I have also heard other rumors...the Turncloack Theon Greyjoy, is he really there? Rickon, brother, please do not trust him. Behead him. Feed him to Shaggy, but please, brother, do not let that traitor live. If you must, let him rot in a cell till I get there to kill him. I have heard. Rickon, I am proud of you. Do you remember Dacey Mormont? Well, she cannot wait to see you again as well. She hopes you are treating her sister well...The Mormonts have been very good to us, brother. Make sure they know that. I need you to release Jon. I will not execute our Kin. I have legitimized him, brother. He is a Stark now and I need him with me. You are the Wild Wolf, the Prince in the North, Winterfell needs you. I love you, Rickon.

Your brother,

Robb.

Dear Jon,

I will not execute you. The Gods can burn if they think I will ever hurt you. You are my brother, my best friend. I will send Lord Commander Mormont as many soldiers as needed to get your freedom from that damned Oath. You did not desert, you aided the North, that is what the Watch does. I will not let anyone tell me different, brother. I will sooner melt the wall than let otherwise happen to you...I am lost, Jon. So much has happened. So much blood, so much death. I left this home a boy, and now I am wolf, fighting like a mad dog to stay alive. I tried to be like so much like father, but I failed. My wife, my child, all gone. I do not know who I can even whisper these thoughts to besides you...and Dacey Mormont. Do you remember her, Jon? She's helped me greatly. I don't deserve her kindness. She almost died for me, but she never looks at me in anger, brother. She looks at me...in a way I don't understand. Talisa never looked at me that way...Is wrong I no longer dream of her eyes, but that of another? It has almost been a year, but is it right? No matter. We have other concerns, brother. I need you here, not locked away in your room like a child. Even Rickon has more authority than you. Does that not burn, brother? So prove to me you are as man as Rickon and join me in avenging our father and saving our sister. You are now a Stark, by the Old Gods and the new. No longer will you be a Snow. 

Your Brother,

Robb

Dear Mother,

I miss you. How is Arya doing? Has she killed the Baratheon knight yet? Please tell her to stop sending me drawings of Dacey and I. There are enough odd stories I am being forced to read from Princess Shireen. She writes many of them, but never finished them. It is actually frustrating to be left waiting for her...Not that I am interested in her stories. I just read them to pass the time at night. Please do not tell Arya. Burn this letter, mother. I can not take any more drawings. Grey Wind grows restless here. He wishes for battle, and as do I. I want to go home. I want to see our family together, to share a feast and to have our Direwolves sleep at our feet. Mother...I am sorry about Aunt Lysa. I can not imagine a harder thing to do. Do not blame yourself. She was lost to us a long time ago. She would have let us die if it meant that cursed Littlefinger would love her. We will be together soon, mother. Rickon and Bran live! I will bring Sansa home soon.

Love,

Robb

Dear Arya,

Stop sending me these cursed drawings! Grey Wind has stolen one and I do not know where he had hidden it. I am a King! I do not need princesses making art and stories of me. How is your training going? I hope you are sharping your mind as well as your sword? I know you would wish to be with me, sister, but I need you and mother to finish what you have started with the Vale. Make sure our cousin is able to stand and lead. You are not just a warrior, but a princess. That means more than just singing songs and wearing dresses. I need you to make sure the people know that House Stark will not abound its people, that we are a stronger together than apart. You are the She-Wolf, Arya. Be safe, sister.

Your Brother, 

Robb

Theon Turncloack,

Why? 

-King Robb Stark.

Jon

Dear Robb,

Howland Reed came to me the day your letter arrived. He had left me a note that father had left me about my mother. I burned it...I know you will wonder why. All my life I wanted to be a Stark. I wanted to be like you. To have Lady Catelyn look at me the way she looks at you and our siblings. I wanted to be a Lord's son, to walk in his footsteps. Maybe that is why I joined the Night's watch. To feel like I belonged somewhere...But I still felt alone. When father lost his head, I was not there. When you almost died, I was not there. I cannot do that anymore, brother. Sansa, Arya, Bran, Rickon, you, I was not there for any of you. I realized that I didn't need to find a place to belong, I already had one. Home. Winterfell. I belong with you and our siblings. I know what it means to love someone you feel like you cannot deserve. The Mormonts are good, Robb. Do not push Dacey away. Jon Stark? I could get used to that. I will be at Dragonstone in the next coming nights. I know how you feel about Theon, brother...Don't kill him. Exile him, send him back to the Wall, but don't kill him. He helped Save Rickon and kill Ramsey.

Your Brother,

Jon

Dear Arya,

I have heard great things about you, little sister! The demon of the Moutain! What have you been getting into? Have you fed our cousin to Nymeria? Ghost misses you too. I hope Needle isn't dull, but then again I hear you've become close with a Blacksmith so he might fix it.WHo knows!? I am heading to fight with Robb and make sure he stays out of any more trouble.

Love, 

Jon

Jaime

Tyrion,

Well, where do I begin? Let us just assume this is in your hands and not in that perfume wearing Spider, Littlefinger, or our father. You must be wondering as to the why I betrayed our entire family and escaped with the Stark Girl, Poole wench, and the giant Tarth Woman? Maybe you blame our dear sister for rejecting me after my heroic return, or the blasted oath that I made to Catelyn Stark, or maybe just another way to piss off our father. Honestly? I'm not sure myself. I almost regret it. The Stark girl spends her days whispering with Poole or dancing around with her sword like a child. Frankly, it's embarrassing. I spend more time correcting her footwork than anything. I wonder if her sister is any better? I had heard Syrio was tutoring her while I was in the Riverlands...visiting. I suppose I should end this letter. Don't want my movements tracked ...And Tyrion, I couldn't tell you thid in person, mostly because I don't think I could have stomached it, but...Tysha...She was no whore. I never bought her for you. That was a lie that Father commanded me to tell. Tysha was ... she was what she seemed to be. A crofter's daughter, chance met on the road.

I'm Sorry,

Kingslayer

Dear Joffrey,

What does a man say to the King who happens to be his Nephew...and his son? Well, I would suppose I would say I am sorry. I'm sorry I couldn't have been a father to you. I'm sorry Robert never made time for you. I'm sorry your mother raised you...wrong. You don't have to be what you are. I don't think we'll win this war. Even with Dragons. Join the Night's Watch, go to Braavos, Essos, Ulthos, seven hells, even Asshai!  Just don’t stay onthat damned Throne. It will cost you your life. Maybe runaway with that dragon girl. I heard Targaryens are hot.

Love,

Father

Sansa

Dear Young Wolf,

I am safe. I amguided by a Ruby as I return to our pack. I have a loyal Plate of Blue with me. I will return to the castle of snow soon, brother. The Wolf Dreams...have you been having them too? My sweet wolf is alive. I can feel it! She is home with our kin. The Kraken is there...I may kill him, brother. No more Wolf blood will be spilled.

Love,

Lady

Catelyn

My Dearest Rickon,

My sweet boy! Gods, so many nights crying over the loss of you and your brother. Even as I write this I am weeping. Your sister is well, and brother strong. I will be returning home within the fortnight. My sweetling, do not let any harm come to you. Trust the Mormonts, Trust the Glovers, and trust yourself. I love you so much. The Direwolves will keep you safe and will protect you from harm. My brave Prince...you've made us all so proud.

Love,

Your mother.

Jon,

Nothing can take back the past...I was wrong. Wrong with how I treated you and wrong with how I saw you...You saved one of my sons and you are going to join my other. You are your father's son and if it is not too late...I would like to be your mother.

-Catelyn

My Dearest Robb,

I miss you too, my son. Not a night goes by that I don't think about you. I pray tha you return home, that you can bring Sansa home. That you may grow old and have a life outside of all this. Please, Robb. Do not let me lose you. The North, your siblings, Dacey, and I need you. You are so brave and quiet I forget you are suffering. Blame yourself no longer. Let go and find love, peace. I beg you, my son. I will be returning to Winterfell very shortly. Your siblings need me. We will be together soon, Robb. That is right. I love you so much, and I know we'll be together soon. You Wonderful boy...You brave man. 

Love,

Your Mother.

GreatJon

Cat,

I hope it is not dishonorable to call the Queen Mother a nickname if so tell the King In the North I am sorry! I write to you with news of the worst to bear. We have taken the West, it is all but ours but have discovered dark words of treachery. The departed Queen of the North, she was not who she claimed to be. A woman named Jeyne Westerling she was. Persuaded by her mother and the Lannisters to get close to King Robb. Let the King know, tell him to let go of the woman. It does not say of what she was after or if her heart changed, but Cat, our King deserves to know that his heart should not weep for her any longer. It is not my place to tell the king. I hope to see you again, my wolf of the water.

-Greatjon.

Dacey

Mother,

The Young Wolf and I are safe! Please give my love to my sisters, and please make sure Lyanna doesn't kill the Wild Wolf. The young Prince might have escaped the Kraken, but I doubt he will survive the Little Bear herself. How are you mother? Have you slept? Of course not, because sleep is for the winter, and it is not winter yet. I miss you all. I miss Bear Island. It is not terrible here. Once you get over the endless fictional stories the Princess writes about the Young Wolf and me. Little Lyanna tells me that a bear falling for a wolf would be crazy...Do you think so, mother? I think it is possible for a bear and a wolf to fall in love. I think so...Be safe mother. I will be home soon.

Love, 

Dacey

Joffrey

Dear Robert Baratheon,

Tywin has told me you were never my father...It makes sense, looking back on it. I suppose I am writing this letter to a dead king for my own benefit. I'll burn this letter after I'm done. Tywin, the man I will no longer call grandfather, had me locked up in the black cells for two months. I watched him as he killed men who were traitors, threats, or just weak. He Starved me, beat me. I slept in my own shit and piss for months...The reason? To make me experience suffering. You were never a father to me. Mother was never honest, and my real father? A one-handed turncloak who ran off with the Stark Wench...No one in my life ever really cared I realize. I am set to be wed to the Dragon Queen. I suppose that is...Such Irony, Tywin killed her cousins, you killed her brother, and my father killed her father. Tywin has brought Daven Lannister to be my new sworn guard and mentor. I can actually duel with a sword properly. No thanks to you... I see no point in this. The game is boring now. Robb Stark? Stannis Baratheon? Bugger the both of them. I wanted to be like you. A proud and Strong Baratheon. I was wrong though. I am no Baratheon or even a King. I am Joffrey Lannister, the Bastard Usurper. My crippled father gave the idea to leave this all behind...I may just do that. Let Tywin Lannister and the dragon queen fight over the damn Throne...I am through with this cunt city...The Mad King should have burned it to the ground.

-Joffrey Lannister.

Howland Reed 

Dear Benjen,

I helped your family regain Winterfell. I left your nephew a letter about his mother. He Burned it...Part me is...happy he did it. Ned raised him right, and maybe it is better this way. I've seen the trouble in Jon, and now, I don't see the same trouble. What is dead, should stay dead. I know you will continue to punish yourself for not saving Lyanna, Ben. I feel it. It was not your fault. You were but a child. So was she. The thought of speaking to the crown prince of the 7 Kingdoms probably sounded like an adventure. She didn't know it would end in her getting taken, nor did you. It was a mistake. Rhaeger took advantage of a child, and the realm suffered. I wish one of us was there. To go with her, to save her, anything. Maybe things would have been different. You could have had a family, Ned could would not have blamed himself, and maybe Robert and the realm could have been saved by her...If you get this letter, Ben, please, please keep Meera, Jojen and Ned's boy safe. Bran is the key to saving Westeros, maybe everything.

Be well old Friend,

Howland.

 Tywin

Gregor Clegane,

Burn Winterfell. Prince Rickon Stark is to be taken care of. As for everyone else...do as you wish. Skin the bear, drown the mermaid. The Wolves must no longer howl.

-Tywin Lannister.

Chapter Text

Debts Paid

Tywin

Since the days of his father, Tywin had done all in his power to restore his Family name to respect, to build a legacy. The Lannister name meant power and fear, but then the War of the 5 Kings changed everything. The Young Wolf and The Burning Stag were closing in on the Lions. You would think his family would use their head for once, for once, and rise to the challenge, but no. The war had been started by his children and grandson and it was just going downhill ever since. All the work he had put into seating Cersei as Queen, for nothing. The Lannisters were never the name since Robert Baratheon, the drunken fool had died and she had sunk her claws into the throne. 

The War was going on too long, they were losing funds, soldiers, and the people were turning. Lions do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep, but their allies do and the longer the war went on, the less they had. He had hoped the Red Wedding would end the problem in the North and they could focus on Stannis, but instead, it had turned into a nightmare. He respected the strength of Robb Stark, but it did not erase what was true.

The Young Wolf wanted blood and the realm now knew it. 

House Frey died the night of the Red Wedding. The Starks burned the Twins to the ground. Tywin had sent some scouts to recover any intel they could, unmarked soldiers of course, but the only thing they found was Edmure Tully, Roslin Frey, and a few Frey girls. He had them locked up somewhere in the darkness of King's Landing they were sealed. He needed Tully blood to be able to hold the Riverlands when they won the war, but the when was slowly turning into an if.

The Tyrells were already uneasy with them after watching Joffrey brutalize the Stark girl, a girl who was becoming increasingly harder to control as the months went on. Eventually, Robb Stark had shown himself and the Westerlands, his West, were under attack. The Rock had fallen. The Tyrells broke faith after that, and there was not a thing he could do. Start another war? He hadn't the resources. 

The Bastard of Roose Bolton had taken the North under the instructions he had given him well before the Red Wedding, and all he had to do was keep the damned castle and he'd be Ramsey Bolton instead of Snow, yet the bastard failed. He didn't even manage to capture the heir to the Iron Islands or the Stark boys. The bastard had even been killed by Rickon Stark!  A boy not even old enough to grow a beard.

He had to give up his plan for the North. It was lost to him. The Jeyne Poole girl had been forgotten about. She had been kept under his thumb in hopes to sell her to the Bolton Bastard and claim it was the lost Arya Stark, yet no, that plan was worthless. The Starks had the North again, and the West was burning. His oldest son, the fool that he was, had dishonored him again and had disappeared with the Stark girl, losing him the last bit of leverage the Lannisters had over the Starks. They had started with 3 Wolves, and now they had none.

Robb Stark was personally still not seen. He was operating from the Shadows, and Tywin could only grudgingly respect the boy for that.

Respect did not win wars though, and he had lost most of his allies. For his time in King's Landing, he had ignored the Spider, but he knew that man had his own agenda. So he had reached his final verdict. 

Daenerys Targaryen.

The Daughter of the Mad King, the man who slighted him at every turn. The cousin to the family he had put down, the sister to the prince who destroyed the realm with his selfish desires. His own son had killed her father, and now it was time she came home.

He had Varys do the groundwork. 

When your enemies defy you, you must serve them steel and fire. When they go to their knees, however, you must help them back to their feet. Elsewise no man will ever bend the knee to you. Tywin was not his daughter, he knew when a war had to be won with blood and when a war had to be won by ink. 

The girl had jumped at the chance and was now returning to Westeros as a Queen to marry Joffrey, there was just a single problem: Joffrey himself.

The boy was out of control, petty, childish, weak from Cersei's coddling, weak from Robert's neglect, from always getting what he wanted but never earning it.

Joffrey was ruined by his parents...a voice in his head told him that the boy was not a Baratheon, but only a Lannister, a product of his children's shame, and the more he looked at them, honestly looked at them...The Old Lion knew it to be true. His children had failed him. Jaime, Cersei, the monster. All had failed him. 

So Joffrey would not fail him. He would break the boy and remake him in his own image. If not, his brother would do, and if he failed too, he would burn Dorne to get their sister back. The Lannister will not fade into obscurity. 

The first was to clean King's Landing of the rats, Snakes, Spiders, and little birds. 

Varys, Littlefinger, the corrupted King's Guard members, City Watch, and all of Vary's spies, were put to death. It had not been easy to track them all down, but the Starks did do him some favors. Littlefinger could not run to the Vale any longer after Lysa Arryn had been executed by Catelyn Stark, a move he agreed upon personally. Varys had been hiding a boy, the alleged survived son of Rhaeger and Elia. Of course, it was nonsense. The boy turned out to be no Targaryen. He was, however, a Blackfyre. Tywin had decided to keep an eye on the boy.

So he threw him into the black cells. A safe place for the "dragon prince" to be had. The boy had raged and cried how he was the true son of Raeger...that fire died out when even Varys told the boy he was nothing but a Blackfyre bastard who had survived the purge. A creation to be used, a pawn. Tywin watched as the fight finally died from the boy's eyes and he was carted off. He would find a way to get Myrcella back and wed her to the boy...once he went through corrective lessons.

Tywin executed the Traitors.

Varys: The Spider was killed for years of treason, but mostly because he was too knowledgeable to be left alive. He had raised a pretender to usurp the throne and knew far too many secrets about the Lannisters thanks to his children's foolishness. The Spider was undermining the crown from the shadows and it was time for it to end. Tywin made sure the sword missed his neck when his execution came.

Petyr Baelish and House Baelish: Tywin had Petyr killed, as well as anyone even closely connected to him. The man was stealing money, playing both sides, and Tywin was no fool. He saw it all but knew a pathetic man like Littllefinger had his use...That use was dead now and so he had to be too.

There were others, so many others, but Tywin lost count and eventually, after two months of purging the filth, he had Joffrey brought before him.

The boy had been beaten, starved, and endured hell in the two months. The boy he knew was dead. Before him now was a lion.

Joffrey stood up to him, cold blue eyes daring Tywin to kill him, and Tywin knew he had won.

The story that was told to the public was that the King had fallen ill, in actuality, no one had known where he had gone. Not even his mother, oh, Cersei had raged and caused mayhem, but there was always Tyrion to make peace of her mess. When Joffrey had returned to the public, he was a new man.

Two months of readjusting, a month of training with the new commander of the King's Gaurd, Daven Lannister, and Joffrey was only his way to being the King he was supposed to be. 

Joffrey had abounded everything that had been of Baratheon decent, burning the sigil, and now went under the name Lannister.

When the Daenerys arrived, Tywin watched as she rode through the capital, the people greeted her as a Queen, her small dragons flying near and high. Daenerys had entered the Throne room and for the first time in years, a Targaryen and a Lannister stood side by side. 

They were not wed as of yet, the terms would be that the Dragon Queen could have some time, but the sooner Joffrey was wed and the dragon girl with child, the faster they would be able to win the war.

Meanwhile, a man named Euron Greyjoy had pledged his loyalty to the Lannisters, which was an odd thing, since Asha Greyjoy had taken over as Queen of the Iron Islands. Tywin had thought that maybe the Iron Islands were going through a civil war, but no matter. Euron Greyjoy would be another tool in his war.

The last problem he had to deal with was the Starks. The West was burning, the Riverlands were now under control of Brynden Tullys again, and the North had the Starks. Something had to be done. So Tywin had enlisted the Moutain to end Winterfell. There would be no siege. Just the murder of Prince Rickon Stark. Without a Stark in Winterfell, the North would fall all over again.

Joffrey

The Dragon Queen...Daenerys had been here for maybe a week, and she was already settling in. His Grandfather would spout words of wise rulings, and He would just nod my head and say yes. His mother hated her, but then again, what doesn't his mother hate? He hardly bothers with either of them anymore, and the Dragon woman is just to keep his grandfather's wrath from him.

Joffrey feels panic rise into his mind as memories of the cells haunt his mind, they distract him where he doesn't even see Davan Lannister's boot connect with his chest.

The sword thats in his hands fall, and his body is smashed against a nearby tree that he knows bruises will form in the morning, but he didn't stop. The Old him would cry, whine to his mother, but Joffrey realized his mother was just as bad as Tywin, as Robert, he pushed himself up, ignoring the pain, and ran forward, picking up his sword against as he did so to match the man's blade. 

They trained like that every day, from sun up to sun down. 

Davan was a knight in the Lannister army, his father had been killed in the same battle that had ended with his uncle-Father, getting captured. So now the man was in the Hound's shoes as Commander and Mentor. Joffrey didn't mind him, not as ugly as the Hound was, or smelled as bad. 

They trained for a bit more till Joffrey had found himself slouched over his sword, looking out at the setting sun.

A worthless city filled with dirty peasants. Gods he hated it here.

Once he had wanted to rule the Seven Kingdoms, to be a King like Robert Baratheon, now he realized the Kingdom was shit and Robert was just a drunken Stag that never got over his Nothern whore. What a waste of such strength. 

Davan told him stories of the free cities, and Joffrey thought of the letter his Kingslayer father wrote. Braavos...Maybe he could hone his skills enough he could be a sellsword. Kill for money? He'd do it for free, getting paid would just be a lovely bonus. 

Joffrey actually tossed the idea around in his head as he silently bid Davan a farewell for the day and thought about Braavos again. The free city, no laws, no Starks, Baratheons...controlling mothers or scheming grandfathers. He could leave it all behind. No one would ever care to find him. It wasn't like he'd have to go to the Night's Watch. He could go to the free cities, make a name for himself. The Sellsword King! They could sing songs of him. His mother and GrandFather can fight over Tommen.

For a second Joffrey thought of his brother, then shook it off. Tommen was Tommen. A child. It mattered not to him. 

Joffrey's thoughts were broken when he noticed his mother standing in front of him holding his crown in her hand, grip tight on the crown and face flushed with anger. 

"Have you forgotten something?" She hissed.

Joffrey strolled up to, grabbed the crown, "The dreadful thing is ugly." Joffrey said in a bored tone. 

"You are a king!" his mother yelled in fury at him. "All that I've done  for you-"

"Me?" Joffrey hissed back. "Did you fuck Uncle Jaime for me?" 

Cersei slapped Joffrey across the face.

The young Lion did not whimper like he had done the last time he had been slapped, instead, he slowly turned his eyes to the crown in his hands.

Joffrey took the crown and then smashed it into the ground, causing a loud clanging sound as he did so. 

The Bastard King then left Cersei there, standing alone.

It was only when he reached the end of the halls did he hear his mother's sobs reaching his ears.

Joffrey did not turn around. 

Yet a small part of him cried on the inside.

 Rickon

The young bear walked along through the Godswood while the Prince in the North walked by her side, as well as Shaggy and Lady. Lyanna had taken over watching over Lady until Princess Sansa returned from the War.

"My mother tells me that the Lords are asking for Theon's head." Lyanna said.

She watched as Rickon fought the urge to react to her news, he had heard it many times before, but the subject was being brought up more and more.

"They want him to pay for turning his cloak and as a message to the Iron Islands. Once Theon dies, the Greyjoy name dies as well." 

"But what of his sister and uncles?" Rickon as he pets Shaggydog, trying to calm his nerves. Lyanna remembered a letter from her sister that said Robb would do the same.

"The family is in a civil war, half on Asha's side, and the other on Euron." 

Rickon rolled the information over. "Who stands against us?" 

Lyanna sighed "Both I would assume. We have Asha's brother and Euron is a savage."

"Robb wants me to take his head." Rickon revealed.

"Was it an order?"

"No."

"Then you have time."

Rickon wanted to argue but didn't. He never could argue with her nor cold any wolf. The Starks and Wolves were too close. He left Lyanna after that and made his way to Theon's room, knocking lightly before entering. 

For his credit in helping take back Winterfell, Theon had been given his old room back to stay instead of being forced into the cells. There were guards watching his every move though. He was not allowed to leave his room unless escorted by a guard that would follow him like a tail throughout his journey.

"Rickon," Theon offered as he sat by the window staring out at something the Prince could not see. "Is it time for my final walk?" 

The boy scratched his hair, not really knowing what to say. He was too young for this. Rickon wished Robb was here to handle this. Robb was strong, smart, Robb was king. Rickon was a boy, and handling a turncloak was too hard for him. Theon had grown up with them, played with them. Only a year older than Robb, Theon was the only other brother he knew besides Robb, Jon, and Bran. 

"My lords ask for your head, my brother asks for your head," Rickon says sadly. "And yet I can't seem to say yes." He tries to talk in his Prince voice, forcing his body to stand strong, his hands not to twitch and eyes to meet Theon's. "I'm only a boy of Ten, Theon..." 

"You should just kill me, Rickon." Theon says voice filled with guilt. "I abounded the Iron Born, Betrayed your family, and deserted the Night's watch. I am not Jon, Robb will not pay his soldiers for my freedom like his."

Jon had left Winterfell for Dragonstone some time ago, but not with the blessing of the others. Whispers of Oathbreaker were tossed around in the shadows, in his ear. The North was not too pleased with Jon leaving, many looked the other way due to his father, brother, or even the fact that he indeed did help secure the North, yet that did not erase the Traditions set down for generations. The Night's watch was an oath, Jon broke it. As did Theon.

The crimes of a man are erased when they join the Watch, so they could not hang Theon as a Turncloak, but both Jon and Theon deserted. Lord Commander Mormont had not asked for either of their heads...yet, but the North was. They would pay the prince for Jon. Any soldiers captured would be given two options: Join the Nights' Watch or Death.

The Night's Watch was slowly gathering new numbers. Mostly from the West and parts of the North that had stranglers from the Iron Islands. 

"When Robb returns, he will choose your fate, Theon." Rickon said firmly. "I am only the Prince, not the King." 

Theon didn't reply after that, but Rickon knew he understood.

Rickon turned to leave, yet stopped, "Thank you for letting Bran and I leave before Winterfell was attacked." He said.

"You were my brothers." Theon softly replied, not looking at Rickon.

Osha

The Direwolves howled into the darkness as Rickon slept in her arms. The Boy had slept in her arms since he had been six and still did now at ten. She would not shame him for it. Rickon loved her and she him. The Prince was her little brother in everything but blood. Yet tonight something was wrong. She could feel it.

She held him close, trying to calm his soul as he tossed and turned in feral madness. Shaggydog, who had been at his side, howled and barked loudly, rage and fear from Rickon found its way into Shaggy and the beast was losing its mind. Or was it Shaggy's rage and fear finding its way into Rickon? 

The Starks were Wargs and their Direwolvs were imprinted on them. There were times when this would happen, but she could wake Rickon from his slumber. Shaggydog began to pace around, snapping at the air.

Osha looked at the beast and saw that his eyes had were now blue, the eyes of a Tully, the eyes of Rickon. The boy was the wolf! She looked down at Rickon's snarling, sleeping form. Did that mean Shaggy was inside Rickon?

The sound of crashing echoes from outside the castle walls and fire erupts.

"The hells!" Osha screams as he places Rickon in the bed next to the increasing feral Shaggydog. 

Looking outside she sees fires all around the outskirts of the castle walls. The men of Winterfell are already preparing their weapons.

"Osha!" Rickon screams.

She turns to look at the young Prince and watches as his eyes quickly turn from green to blue. 

"We're under attack!" Rickon said as he is already on his feet, dressing. 

"I know, my little Prince." The Free Woman says as she helps Rickon dress. 

The boy throws off his sleeping clothes, not even bothering to hide his naked body from Osha as quickly throws on new clothes. She helps him dress in his small armor that had been fitted for a boy of his age. Armor was never really made for children, but Rickon had argued that it would be foolish for him not to be protected. The armor held the sigil of House Stark and Tully, Rickon had it made to show respect to both of his family's great houses.

Rickon grabs his short sword, a blade with a Direwolf engraved on its hilt, Shaggydog is given armor that had been built custom to a Direwolf's body, and she dresses in Stark armor, grabbing a spear and shield before running out of his room, Shaggydog, and the Prince close behind. 

They are greeted by the sight of men arming themselves and flooding the halls of the castle, a small group of soldiers, Glover and Mormont, are already outside, the sound of battle touches her ears and Shaggydog has already become enraged. Prince Rickon was afraid. He did not voice it, but Shaggydog felt how he felt, and the beast would only go into his rage fits when the young Prince was feeling fear and rage. 

Lyanna Mormont finds her way to them, dressed in Mormont armor and holding a Mace that was built to be used for her smaller stature. 

"How many men are attacking the castle?" Rickon asks hand firmly on his short sword.

"A lot"." A new voice says.

The group turns to see Theon dressed in Stark armor, holding his bow and arrow." 

"What are you doing out of your room, Greyjoy?" Lyanna asks, an ice in her voice.

"Well, I thought an extra sword might help," Theon said honestly.

It was at that moment a fire arrow zoomed past them and smacked into the stone. 

Lyanna looked to Rickon, who in turn just nodded and jumped on top of Shaggydog and the group made their war to find Maege Mormont.

Osha had hoped it was just some foolish Iron Born who had not learned their lesson yet, or Bolton men looking to make a last stand, but no, it was something far worse.

The Moutain the Rides, Gregor Clegane, Tywin's Mad Dog was at their gates, along with his small army from his house. Sellswords, cutthroats, and any man willing to take up arms against House Stark. They were pounding at the Gates. Osha could see from her position they held prisoners, maybe from Winterfell, maybe from somewhere else North. Rickon stood by her, shaking with rage. 

"They will out there for awhile, we should be able to starve them out, or at least call for reinforcements," A Glover soldier said, not realizing his prince was behind him. 

"You would have me sit behind a castle wall while the people of the North are left to that mad dog?" Rickon questioned, anger clearly written on his face. 

The soldier looked back at Rickon, a mixture of fear and shock written on his face. "But, your grace...you don't mean..." The soldier looked at Rickon's defiant face. "Your grace, I mean no disrespect, but you are but a chil-"

"I am your Prince!" Rickon growled slamming his sword into the wall hard enough for the clanging sound to echo throughout the halls silencing everyone. The only sound that was heard was the battle outside. 

Her little Prince starred at the soldiers around him, most were that of Glover, Mormont, and the few Stark men left, they were tired, weak, the Bolton siege had left them beaten. 

"I am but a child, yes!" Rickon barks, his wild hair hiding his face, making him look like a wolf himself as he bore his teeth through the moonlight. "I am the child of Eddard Stark, your former liege lord! Catelyn Stark the Queen mother. I am the brother of your king!" Rickon's voice filled with conviction as he held his sword tightly. "I will rot in the crypts a boy then let that mad dog anywhere near more innocents." 

Maege walked forward, along with her daughters, who kneeled. "Here we stand!" Maege roared.

"Here we stand!" Her daughters said all at once.

Osha watched as the soldiers all kneeled, finally it was just her and Theon left. 

"I will serve you till my dying day, my Wild Wolf." Osha said, kissing the top of his head, not caring if he was the prince or not, then kneeling to his side.

Theon and Rickon's eyes met, Rickon pleading with his eyes, Theon unsure in his. The Kraken then gave a melancholy smile and kneeled.

"My sword is yours in victory and defeat, from this day...until my last day," Theon said, and Rickon knew by the way he spoke the words, Robb had heard the same.

"The Prince in the North!" Osha shouted, and as she yelled it, the other Nothern lords and soldiers joined along.

Rickon and Theon found each other's eyes again, he nodded at the Kraken. The Prince then howled out: "The North remembers!"

Lady

Lady ran through Winterfell, custom armor deflecting the sharp sticks that were trying to stab her. Her Littermate's human I given it to her. She pounced and tore at the intruders who were trying to take her home. This was her human's her! And she was a good girl. 

Another bad human had fallen to her and Lady saw the leader of the bad humans, a large beast, she heard her littermate's human call him a Moutain. He held the bear girl by the throat, trying to crush her. Lady growled in a primal rage and jumped onto the man, holding onto the back of his neck with her teeth. 

The large man let go of the bear girl but gripped her, then flung her into a wall, causing her to yelp in pain.

Sansa

Inside their tent, Sansa tossed and turned in her sleep, grunting in anger. Jeyne Poole, who was sleeping in Sansa's arms, felt her distress and gently touched her face.

"Sans?" She asked gently.

Sansa shot up from her sleep, screaming "Winterfell!"

Jeyne screamed as well.

Sansa ran out of her tent and into Brienne's. "Winterfell is under attack!" 

Brienne who had been sleeping at the time, woke up, trying to focus on her eyes, it was only after a moment did she notice the urgency in Sansa's eyes, but something else had called to her attention that she felt the need to voice.

"Sansa," Brienne started, "Why are you naked?"

Sansa looked down at her self and blushed, grabbing the nearest blanket and covering herself with it, however, this was Brienne's blanket and when Sansa took it away, the naked body of the Kingslayer was revealed.

Sansa screamed.

Brienne screamed.

Jaime just groaned and tried to cover his shame with his golden hand.

Jeyne Poole did not leave Sansa's tent but instead dressed in private, softly talking to herself, trying to calm her nerves from all the people screaming.

 The four raced to Winterfell on their horses, Sansa doing her best to block out the mental images in her head. Luckily the sight of Winterfell on fire, again! Was distracting enough for her.

It hadn't taken them long to reach the gates of Winterfell, they had been riding for days and the only reason they had even stopped was for the fact that it would've been easier to book passage inside then while everyone was sleeping. Sansa had planned to enter during the day and plead the case of the Kingslayer, in no way had she forgiven him for what he had done to Bran, but he would at least be given the option to be exiled from the North or sent to the Night's Watch for saving the Princess and Jeyne.

"Oh no," Sansa whispered as she bodies that bore the sigil of House Glover and Mormont outside of the gates.

The battle was raging inside as they stormed into Winterfell. 

Cries of "The North Remembers!" "Here we Stand!" and "For Winterfell!" were blended in with the cries of death and battle.

"It's the Moutain!" Yelled Jaime from his place on top of the horse. 

Sansa spun around just in time to dodge a heavy swing from Gregor's Broadsword.

Brienne met the large man with her sword, as Jaime and Jeyne tried to gather the wounded away.

The Moutain roared and swung madly at them while all they could do was go on the defense. He was quick for a man that big. Sansa had remembered the way he had fought The Hound in King's Landing the first time she had been there. Gods that had felt like so long ago.

She had no time to go down memory lane though as Gregor brought his blade down again, Sansa rolled out of his way, while Brienne jumped over it, sending a power kick into his face.

Gregor, however, was unaffected by the kick and grabbed onto Brienne's leg, and swung her into a wall, instantly knocking her out. He made his way over to Brienne, when a mace cracked into the side of his face, knocking out multiple teeth of his.

Maege Mormont, the owner of said mace, sunk it again into his face, knocking out more teeth as his face lunged back in pain. The Moutain and Maege fought, her being slower but more tactical than him, yet the Moutain's speed and range were too much. 

The Moutain swung his sword, and Maege managed to duck under it, but he had grabbed the older woman by the neck and stabbed her through the stomach and tossed her aside.

"Bastard!" Sansa screamed as she rushed the monster of a man with speed that would make the Flower of Highgarden proud. She slashed at him, using any and all opening in his weakness she could see. While the Moutain was fast and strong, he lacked any strategic thought in his head. His strokes lacked any style to it and it became clear he had never fought a fight that did not rely on strength. 

So she drew upon that. Sansa stabbed him between his shoulder blades then started to run. The Moutain ran after her.

Sansa made a mad dash inside the halls of Winterfell, screaming her brother's name "Rickon!" She yelled.

Rickon

"Rickon!"

Rickon knew that voice! It was the voice of his sister.

Osha was holding an unconscious Lyanna Mormont, the girl was had been knocked out by the Moutain, but luckily Lady had saved her. Currently, the Direwolves were with Theon, who was still outside running a high body count of the Moutain's men. 

"Take care of Lyanna!" Rickon said as he ran out of the room.

Osha grabbed his arm, stopping him mid-step. She then grabbed him by the face and kissed him hard on the forehead. "You come back to me alive, little Prince." 

Rickon hugged Osha, kissing her on the cheek before running out.

The Moutain's men were not trained soldiers, that was the first thing he noticed. They were not Knights, even Gregor himself lacked any real skill. Rickon ran through the halls of Winterfell, sidestepping a soldier and swinging his shortsword at an enemy with a scream of rage. As the one man fell, Rickon used the corpse as a stepping stone and jumped onto another man, sinking his teeth into his neck. The man screamed and began slamming his back against the wall, crushing Rickon against it. Rickon did not stop though and sunk his teeth in deeper then  clinched his teeth around the man’s jugular and ripped it out. Blood drenched the boy's body as he howled loudly, resembling Shaggydog.

Rickon jumped off the slowly dying body and continued to run, it was then that he found his Sister Sansa running, screaming his name.

"Sana!" He shouted down.

She looked up at him, and cupped her hand around her mouth, tears forming in her eyes. 

Rickon ran towards her, crying for reasons he didn't understand. 

Sansa opened her arms and he jumped into them.

The Stark siblings held each other close, crying into each other's arms. 

Rickon sobbed loudly, taking in his sister's new appearance. Her hair was cropped short in a boyish cut, her clothes looked more of that of a knight than a proper Lady that she had always tried to be, and just from the fact that she was holding him up, he could tell she had newly formed muscles.

"Baby, brother," Sansa whispered as she cupped his chin and held their foreheads together. They were both covered in blood, grime, and dirt, yet neither cared. They were together again. 

Rickon cried hard, not knowing what to say. He had been away from everyone so long, not even seeing Bran. Sansa felt the same. She had not seen anyone since Arya.

"The Lone Wolf dies," Sansa started wiping a warm tear away from his eyes.

"But the pack survives." Rickon finished as he hugged his sister close.

A loud bark caught their attention and both turned to see Lady and Shaggydog, covered in blood, yet perfectly fine, save for a few scratches.

"Lady?" Sansa whispered tears in her eyes.

Lady

"Lady?" Her human called out to her.

The Direwolf whined loudly, wagging her tail. It was her human! Her human had come back to her. 

Lady sprinted to her human, and jumped onto her, knocking the smaller girl to the ground.

Her human held her close, crying hard. 

"Good Girl, you are so good." Her human cried and Lady cried too as she nuzzled into her human.

All the years alone, wondering, and finally, she had found her human. 

Lady knew that her human loved her. She was a good girl, and her human had meant it. 

Theon

Theon sent another arrow into the Moutain as the man roared in Pain and fell to his knees. He looked to the Kingslayer, who was helping a slowly recovering Brienne to his horse. The Northern men begin to surround The Moutain as he screamed and snarled like a Mad Dog, but he had no more energy left in him.

"All bark, no bite." Theon said as he sent another arrow to his side, sending the man doubling over. 

Theon looked around as soldiers began to gather the fallen, and finish the stragglers off.

Theon held his bow in the air and screamed: "For Winterfell!" 

"For Winterfell!" The Soldiers yelled back at him. 

Theon made his way into Winterfell, holding his head high. No one had attempted to arrest him and send him back to his room, but he had not bragged either. There was a humbling feeling after the battle, Winterfell had not fallen again, and the dead would not have died in vain.

He made his way into the Maesters chamber's to see Maege Mormont and her daughters around her. Maege would not be long, not with the wound the Moutain had inflicted her with.

Her oldest, Alysane was scribbling her last words, tears trickling down her face. The Lady Bear held her children close. 

"Greyjoy, ya did good." Maege said as she chugged some milk of the pup. Enough to knock out a normal man, but Maege downed it like water.

The archer bowed thanks and left the woman to have her final moments with her kids alone.

Theon made his way into the solar, Sansa and Rickon were speaking softly when she saw him and her eyes flared up.

"Turncloak!" She screamed as she raised her sword.

"Sansa, no!" Rickon screamed holding her sword arm. "He fought with us, he's on our side!" He pleaded.

Sansa reluctantly lowered her sword, growling lowly. 

It was at that moment Jaime walked in and Rickon turned feral.

"Kingslayer!" He screamed raising his sword.

"Rickion, no!" Sansa screamed.

"By the Gods." Theon muttered to himself.

 Jon

When he arrived at Dragonstone, it had been raining heavily. Ghost was drenched. 

The Knights greeted him with respects, the servants took his drenched clothes and offered him dry ones along with food. When he had changed, he had begun his hunt for Robb.

They walked through the halls of Dragonstone and before he got too far he was greeted by Princess Shireen.

"Hello." She said.

"Hi." Jon replied.

"I'm taking your Direwolf." The Princess said grabbing Ghost and leading him away.

Jon, who had no idea what was going on just stood there in shock and confusion as his deadly, giant, killing Machine Direwolf was lead away by a small Princess.

"You were right, black really is your color." Robb said as appeared to his brother.

Jon looked to see his brother in the doorway and he smiled brightly.

The two ran at each other and hugged the other close, neither wanting to let go.

"Its good to see you, Stark." Jon said, wiping the tears that were forming in his eyes.

Robb smirked and held out something to Jon "You as well...Prince Jon Stark"

Jon took the parchment from Robb's hands and read it carefully, he then looked at Robb with tender eyes. 

Robb placed a hand on his brother's shoulders. "Now you have father's name. You're a stark, Jon." 

The two brothers hugged again until they heard Stannis' booming voice.

"Will you boys of winter stop hugging! By the Gods, if Shireen sees this we will never hear the end of it!"

The Starks laughed and broke apart from each other. Stannis came forward to them.

"Winterfell was attacked." He said bluntly. "Tywin's Dog lead a Thousand men against Winterfell after you left, Stark."

"Are they alive?" Jon said in fear, he knows what kind of man Gregor Clegane was.

Stannis smirked, and both boys felt a chill go down their spine. "Gregor Clegane was defeated by Prince Rickon, the Turncloak Theon, and Princess Sansa." 

Robb and Jon were speechless.

"Sansa?" Robb asked slowly. "She's out of King's Landing?"

"She can fight?" Jon asked bewildered.

"Yeah, she can fight?" Robb asked equally confused.

Stannis rubbed his tired eyes, holding back the urge to bump their heads together. "Apparently so. The Kingslayer is there with Brienne of Tarth,"

"Kingslayer?!" Jon and Robb said at the same time.

Stannis wondered if they were parrots. "Yes, the Kingslayer. They have captured Gregor Clegane and are probing him for information. Among the dead are Galbart Glover and Maege Mormont."

The room then got very quiet.

"I have to go." Robb said as he left Jon and Stannis.

Dacey

Dacey heard the door open to her chambers but did not bother looking. Grey Wind sat with his head in her lap, whining softly. She looked forward into the darkness, eyes unblinking as she held a letter from Winterfell.

"Mother." Dacey softly said.

It was Robb who had came into her vision, kneeling in front of her.

He didn't say a word, he just grabbed her and held her close. 

She touched his face with her hands and fought every urge that screamed in her body, yet she couldn't stop her foolish mouth. "Don't go." She said in a voice painfully weaker than her own.

Thankful Robb didn't. He threw off his cloak, and armor and laid in bed with Dacey. The two laid in bed together, not saying anything for the moment. There were a few tender tears that slipped through Dacey's eyes, but the woman would not cry. They had been raised as soldiers and knew the risk from birth.

She remembered when Lord Eddard Stark had been killed, how lost Robb had been. He had found her that night and she had made him the Oath that she would help him make the men responsible pay for what they had done to his family. She had invited him to her bed that night. They had not done anything. She had just held the boy king and let him cry into her chest as he whispered his threats and hatred to her. 

Now he had found his way back to her bed, yet it was her who cried into his chest, whispering words of hatred and death onto her enemies. 

 Dacey thought about how a war would always take the things they loved. Robb had lost his father, she, her mother, The Karstarks their sons and father, The Umbers their heir, The Glovers their Lord, and so much more. It would never stop, not as long as the war continued. 

"Robb," She whispered as she held him. "Promise me..." She couldn't finish her words, Robb seemed to of known.

"I promise." Robb softly said back. 

Dacey snorted. "You don't even know what I was going to say."

"It doesn't matter." He replied.

Dacey smiled, and leaned up at Robb, as he leaned down at her. They held themselves there, neither wanting to be the one to move first.

Grey Wind, who had been long fed up, gently pushed Robb's lips to her.

That was the night that Dacey Mormont, the Lady of Bear Island had kissed Robb Stark, the King in the North. 

Tyrion

The last few weeks had been hell for Tyrion. Jaime Leaving, finding out the news about Tysha. The Imp didn't know what to do. 

What could he do? Steal his father's crossbow from his shelf, sneak up on him when he was on the shitter and shoot him? Yes, that was an option he could take, but would it be the right option? No, that would not be at all. Tywin dying would not end his legacy, all through the war was doing a pretty good at that.

The Starks and Baratheons were at their gates almost, Sansa Stark more than likely back at Winterfell, the Starks held Winterfell again, The West was burning, his brother had turned his back, and now.

The only thing decent that had come out of the ordeal was Joffrey, who seemed to act nothing as his true self. He was not a good person, yet he was not cruel. He stayed out for hours hunting, finding crops, just anything to make his time in the Red Keep less frequent. His hostility was not forgotten, yet it had yet to appear. Daven Lannister, a man who was distant family, was slowly becoming the closest thing Joffrey had to a father. The man would train with Joffrey, sit with him, in fact, he recalled seeing his Nephew search him it. 

It didn't matter. Tyrion was dead with the Lannister name. Jaime had lied to him, Cersei was always a monster to him, Joffrey was even worse, and then there was his father. The man that...that broke Tysha. Tyrion would not flee the city though, now, it was time to send a raven to Stannis Baratheon and Robb Stark. 

Chapter Text

A Time for Wolves

Daenerys

The Iron Throne, her Birthright, her family's legacy, the object that thousands were living and dying by at the moment. Daenery walked through the Red Keep, touching the Throne gently. It was then that she froze, head swinging, she let out a soundless scream as the visions from the House of the Undying flashed before her again.

She came upon a feast of corpses. Savagely slaughtered, the feasters lay strewn across overturned chairs and hacked trestle tables, asprawl in pools of congealing blood. Some had lost limbs, even heads. Severed hands clutched bloody cups, wooden spoons, roast fowl, heels of bread. In a throne above them sat a dead man with the head of a wolf. He wore an iron crown and held a leg of lamb in one hand as a king might hold a scepter, and his eyes followed Dany with mute appeal. The Wolfman starred at her, eyes cold and blue. The man-beast then opened his mouth and howled, yet instead of the sound of wolf, the ungodly screams of the dead echoed out through the wolf's mouth as it rose from the throne. The Wolf held a giant sword of ice and charged at her, howling the screams of the dead.

"You'll cut your hands on that blasted thing." A voice said.

Dany's head whipped out of the visions and back to reality. Next to her was the King.

Joffrey stood next to her, glaring at the Throne. The stories she heard from Barristan Selmy about the boy king was nothing like who she had met most recently. Then again, Joffrey had hardly talked at all, at least not while she was around him. He would spend more time with Daven Lannister, Lord Commander of the King's Guard, training, constantly. Sometimes she'd even see him with the sellsword Bronn but he never spent any time in the Council meetings. In fact, he never even wore his crown anymore. He walked around in armor that held no sigil, bore no crown, and showed the utmost contempt for everything.

"He doesn't want it." She thought to herself.

Barristan had told her that Joffrey wanted to be Robert, but ended up as Aerys...Ironically, she had never known either man. Not the Mad King who abused her mother, or the Stag who took her throne. 

The main reason Dany had even agreed to return to Westeros was that she knew barely anything about what had happened twenty years ago. After arriving at the capital though she had found out everything her brother had told her was a lie, from a certain point of view.

Her father, Aerys, was a madman. He raped her mother, burnt people alive, tortured them, and slighted every soul that had ever tried to work with him. Her father was an evil, foolish man, yet, he still wasn't as foolish as her brother.

Rhaeger, a man obsessed with a child's fable. A man who abounded his wife and children to the dragons and lions as he whisked away a young teenager from her family, betrothed, and then started a war. A war that he hadn't even joined until close till the end. Barristan idolized her brother, but Dany had to accept the truth. Her brother, like her father, was a selfish fool.

She thought of her brother, and regret filled her. Viserys was many things, but at most he was a creation of her family's mistakes. If she not older, who knew? Maybe her fate would have been the same as his.

"You've spent your whole pining over the blasted thing, why don't you take a seat?" The King said as he bowed, a mocking gesture. 

Dany said nothing to him, walking past and sat down on the throne. 

Joffrey clapped his hands, "How does it feel?" Joffrey asked her in deadpan excitement "To sit on the throne that thousands died for. Renly Baratheon died for it. Eddard Stark, the honorable fool that he was, died for it, and by the Gods, so many more countless men have died because." His voice was bored, yet she could taste the bitterness in it "House Bolton, House Frey, Elia Martell, your cousins, brothers, and Robert Baratheon."

That was odd she thought. He referred to his father by name.

"Robert Baratheon was your father." She replied. "The Demon of the Trident. You talk of him as if he is nothing to you."

Joffrey smiled coldly, and leaned low till his eyes were leveled with hers "My father is Jaime Lannister." He whispered softly.

She stared at him wide eye, knowing the implications were there. 

"The Queen mother?" Dany asked.

Joffrey nodded his head. "It would seem us Lannisters have more in common than thought with you Targs." 

The Wedding had come and gone, and while she had no plans to let the Prince bed her, she had somehow found herself on top of the little lion, screaming out in pleasure as she rode him.

Truth be told, she had been very lonely after Drogo's death. It had been...hard losing him. She did not think to love him at first, but as time went on, things had changed. With him gone, she had taken to having different lovers in her bed when the loneliness crept into her mind. Most of the time it would be her Handmadians, but she had made an exception. 

Dany growled out a final lust filled moan as she collapsed on top of Joffrey, sweating, and both clinging to each other's bodies as their climax slowly faded. The two shared a lust filled kiss, though she felt no romantic love for him, and she doubted he felt any for her. They then broke apart, and the King began to dress.

She had been his first, she could tell. They had spent several hours locked in his chambers, and she doubted they had been quiet. It did not matter. The city was still celebrating. When he finished dressing, she noticed that he had not stopped moving around the room, in fact, he began to pack. 

Finally, after he finished, he offered a mocking bow, then handed her a crown, his crown. "Well my Queen," He mocked the title again, and she rolled her violet eyes, glaring at him. "The throne is yours." 

Truth be told, Dany had multiple plans for the little young, most of them ending in Dragonfire, but she had guessed that it would take time after they won the war of course. She had only ever agreed to the marriage because she knew that no matter what she would have to face Stannis Baratheon, and the North if the rumors were true of their alliance. So to avoid the bloodshed of many, she thought it better to wed the Lion and become Queen by right and by marriage. No one could argue her claim now. She was the daughter of the true king and the wife of the current king. She had planned to get rid of most of the Lannisters in time. In fact, the only one that had given her pause was Tywin Lannister himself. The old lion was a formidable foe and had helped destroy the last dynasty of her family. She did not think of him lightly and knew his reasonings for wanting her to join houses was the fact that he was out of options. 

Yet here she was, in the bed of her husband and he was giving her the crown.

"What are you getting at, lion?" She did not call him Stag, as did no one anymore. Not even his own mother seemed to calm him a Stag. It had been widely accepted that his father was not Robert, but just like Tywin's involvement in the Red Wedding, the man would never claim it a fact.

"I have done my duty. We are wed, you are bedded, and now the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms." Joffrey then placed his sword in its sheath. "Now if you excuse me, I have a boat to catch."

"What are you talking about?" Joffrey did not reply, instead, he threw on a cloak and grabbed his bag and left his room.

Dany quickly threw on some clothes and followed Joffrey out of his chambers, trying to keep up with the fleeing king.

When she had finally found him, after chasing him for what had seemed like miles, he was in front of a boat, Daven Lannister was there, as well as Bronn the sellsword.

"What the hell is going on?" Dany whisper-yelled, trying not to attract attention, Joffrey however just seemed to be even more bored, yawning, and Dany regreted even more sleeping with the prince, wedding night or not. "Where are you even going?!" 

The ship is question wasn't large, maybe enough a few people at max. Daven Lannister and Bronn were throwing perversions inside the boat as the new husband and wife talked.

"Drop the act, dragon. You do not mean to be my wife any more than I, your husband. You're here for the throne, and more than likely my grandfather's life." Joffrey explained dully, yet there was a hint of amusement in his voice "Take your revenge on my grandfather, kill the Baratheon, hell, burn the entire kingdom and become Queen of the ashes if you bloody well want. I am done with this city, this damned game of thrones, and this war." 

Dany was speechless and against her better judgment, she gave the prince a piece of her mind.

"You started this fucking war and now you're going to run!?"

Joffrey smiled, a true shit-eating grin "Indeed." He then jumped on the boat. "The North, Stormlands, and soon the Reach will be at our assholes, and I intend to not get fucked like a common whore."

She could not believe this. She did not love the King, no, in fact, just from the stories alone she had hated him, yet she had just married him and shared his bed. "You would abandon you, people?" She threw her hands up, not even believing his words "You are a sad, little boy. Just as Barristan said. 

That had apparently struck a nerve because in the time it took her to blink, Joffrey was in her face.

"I know your story my Queen yet if you think this miserable lot of insects deserve saving, you are wrong!" Joffrey yelled, anger in his voice "The same people who praised your family, cheered when my father stabbed yours in the back and slit his throat. The Same people who cheered for the Rebellion leader Eddard Stark, calling him a hero, called for his blood before I had him killed in front of his daughter." Joffrey spit on the ground, showing his disgust "Westeros is a Realm of whores and bastards, and if I am going to be a king of any kind, I will be the Sellsword king."

Joffrey then grabbed her and forcibly kissed her. She fought against him, half-heartedly. She could not help it. It was not that she even liked the boy king, yet her desires for the flesh were strong in the last months. Regaining her senses, she found herself and pushed away from him, slapping him roughly.

Joffrey for his part did not react. He had already been slapped so many times at this point, he didn't feel like fighting her. 

He looked at her with cynical sad eyes, and for a moment, she saw the eyes not of Aerys the third, or Robert the second, just of Joffrey. The confused boy king.

"There is nothing for me in Westeros..." Joffrey said sadly.

Daven placed a hand on his shoulder, and even Bronn seemed to look off. 

"I took Eddard Stark's head, but it was not I who started the war." With that, Joffrey bowed to her and jumped on the boat. "Do thank my Uncle for this safe passage." 

Dany mouth hung open. The Imp?! He had been the one to arrange all of this! 

"If you ever find yourself in the free cites my Queen, come find me and maybe I can give you an heir to your dragon throne," Joffrey said with a chuckle.

Bronn then cut the rope, and the boat with Joffrey Lannister Baratheon, first of his name, sailed away to the free cites, leaving her as Queen of the seven kingdoms.

Sansa

 Winterfell was slowly returning to a somewhat normal status, as normal as it could get anyway considering the fact that there had been the most documented attacks on the castle in all of the history of the North since the dragons had taken their crowns. 

The dead had been buried, the fallen put to rest, and propper funerals had been had for the brave souls that had defended the North from the Mountain and his army. The Mormonts had returned home to their Island to bury their mother. They had sent word to Dacey Mormont who has still at Dragonstone with her brother Robb, but she knew the woman would send her love to her sisters, and eventually return in time to mourn for the former Lady of Bear Island. 

Meanwhile, there was the matter of the Turncloak and Kingslayer, who much to the chagrin of both men, had been forced to share a room till She and her brother could figure out what to do with them. It was honestly a stalemate though.

The second she had seen Theon, she had drawn steel against him, intending to cut him down, if it had not been for the intervention of her baby brother, she would have. Meanwhile, Rickon had tried to do the same to Jaime, which in turn, she had to calm him down. It was not an easy task, to say the least, to contain their hatred for each respected man. Rickon would never forgive Jaime for hurting Bran, she did not either, she would hate the Kingslayer forever for crippling him, but she also owed him her life. She felt a deep hatred to Theon for betraying their family, but Rickon, who held his own grudges, had stuck up for him since he had helped not once, but twice to keep Winterfell safe.

She did not even know what to write Robb, what could she? It would be too much. She decided that Robb had to decide Theon’s fate himself.

As of now, her and Rickon were ruling the North. She could not believe the lengths her baby brother had grown. Once he had been a boy of six, offering his sweet kisses to the cheek and light laughter in his wild, unruly state, and now, while still feral at times, he was a wise beyond his years Prince, who more often than not, was the most realistic speaker in the room. He looked like the spitting image of Robb as well. She remembered her elder brother as a child of ten while she had been even younger. Rickon wore the same face, and she prayed that her brother would grow into the same man.

It was an odd, yet comforting feeling being home. She had not seen Winterfell in so long, it felt like a dream. 

Sansa recalled years ago dreaming of Southron dresses and worshiping the Gods of the seven, marrying a knight and having his babies, living happily as a mother.

Gods! The hells had been wrong with her. 

The North was her home, and she a wolf. Her pack was all she needed, and if she never married or bore a child, she would not mind.  Her duty as a Princess of the North, Trident, and apparently Vale, if the letters her mother had written to her brother before she arrived, were to the people and making she they lived lives of joy and safety. 

Sansa was stirred from her thoughts as a Jeyne Poole shifted in her arms, nuzzling into the girl's neck. Sansa stroked the girl's hair, placing a light kiss on top of her head as they rested in bed. 

Jeyne had started coming to her bed during her time in the Red Keep. The poor girl had been so abused and alone, she could not sleep without crying, so Sansa had invited Jeyne in her bed to sleep. Jeyne cried the first few nights, but in time she adjusted, and her sleep finally returned to her. There had been nothing romantic about it. Then, when they had been on the road with Brienne and the Kingslayer, Jeyne had also slept in her tent with her. It hadn't come to the point of anything more till one night the girl had kissed Sansa after a nightmare. 

One thing had led to another, and that night Sansa had made love for the first time. To a woman at that! 

She wondered if her mother would judge her...She hoped not. Her mother had always loved Jeyne when the girl was her friend, so shouldn't she love her now that the girl was her lover? 

Sansa had written to the Vale hoping to hear from her mother, but cousin Robert had informed her in his last raven that Queen Mother Catelyn had left for Winterfell as soon as she had received the letter with Rickon declaring himself Prince of the North. Sansa stifled a giggle at her cousin's eager words of becoming King of the Vale one day.

Lady, who had been sleeping next to the bed, since her friend had become much too big since she had last seen her, rose up from the floor and gave her some gentle licks to the face, showing off her affection for her human. Sansa kissed the wolf and held her large face in her hand. "I had missed you so much." She whispered to Lady, who leaned into her touch.

Sansa would never say it out loud, but after she had thought her father had slain Lady, she had a hard time connecting with him or even feeling a part of her family. Her brothers and sister all had Direwolves, and now she had nothing. It made her want to run away to be a Southron girl even more. She could never stay mad at her father though because she knew he loved her and seeing that he had sparred Lady proved it even more. She wondered if Arya knew? Her father more than likely intended to retrieve Lady after he returned from King's Landing. It had devasted losing her so much. She missed so many people who had been lost to them during the Stark massacre in the Red Keep. Lady, Jeyne, and her family's trusted friend Jory, even Septa Mordane. It saddened her to know she'd never so many faces again.

Lady sensing her human's sadness, nipped at her chin and licked her more. Sansa giggled at her wolf's added affection and kissed her on the head again.

"Everything okay, Sans?" Jeyne mumbled, looking up at Sansa.

"Of course, Jey." Sansa whispered softly as she brought the girl's lips into a loving kiss

Sansa, Rickon, Osha, Jeyne, Lady, Shaggydog, Howland Reed, and Brienne had been standing outside Winterfell with a small party as they waited for her mother's convoy to arrive. Rickon bounced on his feet lightly, trying to uphold the image of a mature young prince, while also fighting with the little boy who wanted to see his mommy. Osha had her arms wrapped around the boy and would offer him a kiss on top of the head to calm him. Sansa smiled watching as Rickon kissed her back on the cheek. She had not met the Free Woman prior to leaving Winterfell, but she was glad that someone had been watching over her brothers while they had all been apart. It broke her heart to know that Bran was still somewhere out in the North, but she trusted Howland Reed's children.

Rickon and Sansa were dressed in simple clothes for that of their stature, both of them had the sigils of House Stark and House Tully imprinted on their clothes. Sansa, who had grown used to wearing clothes fit for a boy, so she hadn't returned to wearing her dresses. She doubted she ever would.

It was comfortable! Gods, she had become Arya.

"There they are!" Rickon yelled. 

Truth in the Prince's words, the Queen Mother Catelyn, Princess Arya, Ser Gendry, and Nymeria appeared in sight of the Stark children. 

Sansa, who tried her best to stay composed, broke out in a mad dash to her family, but not before grabbing Rickon's hand and helping him run. Lady barked happily and chased after them while Shaggy was already springing ahead of them.

Catelyn and Arya, who had been sleeping in each other's arms in the cart they rode in, jumped off it and ran to the two of them, Nymeria ahead of both of them to get to her Littermates.

The three Direwolves found each other and started barking and biting each other in a playful way. Shaggy and Lady had shown extra attention to Nymeria and were both tackling the wolf.

The two groups of running Starks finally made contact with each other and all that was heard was the sobbing of happiness as Catelyn embraced her oldest daughter and youngest son.

Witnesses to the event could only smile as they watched the Stark reunion they had all been hoping for.

"My little boy," Catelyn cried as she kissed Rickon, she then looked at her daughter, shocked at how different she looked. The shock wore off in a moment and she had her arms around Sansa, crying. 

Arya tackled her baby brother, and two started to wrestle as they hugged and kissed each other on the cheek.

"Forgive me, mother," Sansa said as she pulled away from her mother's embrace. 

Sansa then jumped on top of her baby brother and little sister and started to wrestle, causing Arya, who had not expected her dainty sister to be so strong, yelp in surprise. 

"That's not fair, your bigger!" Arya screamed.

"Deal with it, midget!" Sansa yelled back as she overpowered both.

Catelyn, who was watching from the sides, could not contain herself, and in a very unladylike fashion, jumped on top of the children and began to play wrestle with them as well. 

The two parties of people had finally joined the group watched in amusement. Howland Reed watched the sight with a sad smile, Brienne was overjoyed, Jeyne was crying, Ser Gendry was smiling, and the Direwolves were barking in happiness.

After many hugs, kisses, and crying, it was time for the group to split apart once they got into Winterfell. 

All going their separate paths but Sansa, Lady, Jeyne, and Catelyn, who were on their way to Robb's Solar that Sansa and Rickon were now equally sharing. Even though the young Prince had been in the solar longer than her, Rickon had not tried to keep her out for gender reasons. The North had become an equal opportunity Kingdom since Rickon had been left in charge, no doubt to the influences of the Mormonts. Rickon and Robb had even been sending letters back and forth to remove the stigma of bastards in the North and force all Bastards to be taken care of by their father. They would still be the absolute last when it came to inheritance, yet they would be deemed worthy to at least be considered. The true born heir would also now be chosen by birth order of all children, not just the gender. Of course as to not cause a riot of angry young lords, the law would only affect children born after the law would be declared. 

Sansa opened the door for her Queen mother, while Jeyne and Lady stayed out. Both knew this was a talk that had to be s private one held between mother and daughter. 

"I'll find you later, okay?" Sansa softly whispered to Jeyne as she pressed their forwards together.

Jeyne nodded her head softly "Okay." She whispered back.

The two shared a gentle kiss. "Now away with you." Sansa lightly said, causing the girl to smile brightly before walking away with Lady in toe. 

Sansa closed the door and sat next to her mother, offering a small smile as she exhaled a breath she had not yet realized she was holding in.

"You must have so many questions," Sansa said with a nervously laugh. She realized the last time she had seen her mother, she had been but a girl who had not flowered, obsessed with knights and Southron life, and now she was a woman of the North, a wolf, in love with another woman.

Catelyn smiled at her daughter, not a hint of judgment written on her Tully features. "My daughter," she softly said as tears found their ways into her eyes "Dressed as a boy, hair chopped, kissing a woman and fighting with a sword.." she closed her eyes wiping away the tears that were flowing down her cheeks. "Are you happy, my Sansa?" 

Sands grabbed her mother's hands and held them close "Yes, mother."

Her mother stroked her cheek, kissing her on the forehead, "Than that is all that matters, my sweet child."

Sansa began to cry as well, the fear of being judged fading away from her mind. "And you will not shun me if I never take a husband and marry Jeyne?"

"Oh, Sansa," Catelyn hugged her tightly "You could marry your half-brother Jon and I would still love you." 

Sansa pulled back, smiling through tears, "You called him my half brother! Not a bastard." 

Cate nodded, smiling at her daughter. "You are not the only one who has changed." Catelyn then paused for a moment, looking hesitant in her thoughts before finally speaking. 

Sansa, gripped her mother's hands, "Whatever it is, mother, I will not judge you as you have not judged me."

"Are you sure?" Catelyn asked.

"Of course." Sansa replied.

"I will always love your father, yet I may be falling for another," Catelyn said fearing her daughter's reaction, yet there was none. Sansa stared at her blankly and Catelyn feared that she had made a terrible mistake, at least that was, until her daughter had thrown her arms around her.

"Oh, mother...I am glad." Sansa would always miss her father and thought about him often, yet her mother deserved to be happy as well. "Who is it, mother?"

Catelyn smiled sheepishly, "The Greatjon Umber."

The high pitched squeal of excitement Sansa let out had undoubtedly reached through Winterfell and beyond the Lands of always winter.

Jeyne

 If Sansa was going to get her Queen Mother's blessing then Jeyne knew there was someone she had to find as well...

Jeyne had found Arya training with Brienne and Rickon while Nymeria and Shaggy watched. Brienne was having the two children spare, and while Rickon's skill was beyond impressive for a boy of his age, Arya still outclassed him in experience. 

The Poole girl stood off to the side till Brienne had motioned to Arya of her presence. 

Shooting Rickon a glare that said, "This wasn't over." Arya made a way over to her. Nymeria barked at Lady and the two wolves began to play, or rather Nymeria played while Lady barked happily. 

"Hello, Princess Arya," Jeyne said timidly. Sansa was helping her with her confidence, yet she still found it hard to talk to people that were not Sansa, Brienne, or even Jaime. "I was hoping I could speak to you for a moment.

"Okay," Arya said sheathed Needle and walking off to sit with Jeyne.

The two sat in silence for a bit. Arya waiting for Jeyne, and Jeyne...waiting for herself to build up the courage to speak.

Finally, after many failed attempts to speak that ended with Jeyne opening and then closing her mouth right after, Arya finally spoke for her.

"Listen, I already know you're in love with, Sansa," Arya grumbled. 

Jeyne looked at her surprised, but Arya shrugged, "Rickon cannot keep a secret to save his life." 

"Do...Do you approve?" She asked not meeting Arya's face.

Arya paused for a moment, as if thinking, she said: "Would it change anything if I didn't?"

Jeyne looked at Arya hurt but straightened her back and held her head high for once. "No." She said stronger than she thought she could still sound. "Princess Sansa loves me and I love her."

Arya gave her a blank stare for a bit, and Jeyne started to shake, expecting the younger girl to hit her, but then Arya's face broke out into a large smile. "Good! Cause that's all that matters."

Jeyne threw her arms around Arya and began crying out thank you and apologizing for ever calling her Horseface as a child.

The youngest Princess pats her on the back, silently wishing she had actually said no to avoid the unwanted human contact. 

Robb

Today would be his last day at Dragonstone and instead of meeting with the Stannis or the other Lords, Robb had been standing on a ledge, brooding as he read over a letter from his mother. His forces on the Western front had finished their conquest and were now marching to meet with the Knights of the Vale and soldiers from Riverlands. The Reach had declared for him, Loras and Garlan Tyrell were leading the soldiers to meet with any remaining forces that had been in the Storm Lands.

Knowing of the uneasy relationship between the Martells and the Lannisters, Catelyn had traded the false knight Gregor Clegane to House Martell for exchange for their loyalty. The entire realm knew about the injustices done to House Martell by the Lannisters: Elia Martell and her children had been butchered by the Moutain under the orders of Tywin Lannister, and his mother had brilliantly used the Martells desire for revenge to get them to declare for him. The Martells never blamed the Starks for Elia, and his father had sent his own personal condolences for the crime after it had happened. Oberyn Martell would be personally leading his soldiers. 

Catelyn Stark had secured her son, not just a few Houses, but most of Westeros. He was not a politically minded person, yes he had gotten better, but Robb knew he'd never be as good as his mother, Sansa, or even Arya. His baby sister might deny it, but she was as Tully as she was Stark. The men of his family were not as lucky to be gifted with the mind for politics and He, Jon, Bran, and Rickon had taken too much after their father. They were learning though.

Stannis had his army and Robb now had an even larger one. He knew he would need them too. Tywin had married his miserable shit of a Grandon to the Dragon Queen. The Woman came with the Unsullied and a few Dothraki. Most of them had deserted the Dragon Queen since none of them had ever crossed the sea, yet enough had followed her to still make them a threat. Then there were the 3 Dragons that they had to contend with. 

All of that should have been what was consuming his mind, but instead, he was staring at the dark words his mother had told him about Talisa, which was not even her name. Her true name was Jeyne Westerling. She had been pressured to pursue him by her Mother who in turn was pressured by Tywin. He remembered the night he had met her...After taking the Crag he had been injured and had just gotten news that Winterfell had been sacked and Bran and Rickon were more than likely dead. It had been too much for him and he had sought comfort in Talisa...He chose her honor over his own, and now he knew it had not even been worth it. 

Robb wanted to scream, rage, cry, yet nothing had come to him. Learning this had...hurt, yet as much as he wanted to hate her, Robb couldn't. It was War, and like he, Talisa was just another victim. He wasn't sure if he ever was actually in love with her. He had not been given the time. Yes, he did love her, but he was not in love with her. That took time, trust, and experiences...something he and Talis- Jeyne, had not been given. 

Sighing, the King in the North ripped up the letter and let it go blowing in the wind. 

Grey Wind placed a large paw on him, and Robb pet him lovingly then gave him a hug. "It's okay, boy. Just letting go." Robb says to Grey Wind who rests his large head on Robb's shoulder.

The King embraces his Direwolf for a few moments longer before pulling away and standing back up.

He hears footsteps behind him but doesn't turn around. He could tell that the footsteps belonged to Jon. He'd live with his brother for long enough to know how he walked.

His brother joined him with overlooking the rising tied, Ghost had followed Jon and had joined his Littermate in nesting in the soft grass by their humans.

"I never thanked you for not taking my head for deserting," Jon said.

"You're my brother. I never would." Robb replies. "I'll sooner start another war then let anyone hurt you."

Jon turns to Robb, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Then don't kill Theon."

Robb looks at Jon conflicted "Jon..."

"Robb please-" Jon started but is cut off.

"It's okay, Jon." a voice says behind them.

Robb freezes, already knowing the voice.

The pair turn around to see Theon Greyjoy behind them. Robb looks at Jon, silently asking as to why Theon was there. Jon tries to talk, but Theon interrupts him again.

"I've got it, Jon." Theon says walking closer to Robb. 

The Young Wolf tensed as Theon came closer. 

Theon slowly crept closer and closer to Robb till he was in front of him. 

"I just wanted to tell you I kept my promise," Theon says not being able to meet Theon's eyes.

Robb looks at him questioningly, and even Jon is confused. 

Theon reaches into his tunic and hands Robb over a parchment. 

Robb takes the parchment and reads it, then slowly puts it back down.

"It's from your sister...She's declared for me as well in exchange for peace...but why?" Robb asks.

Theon shrugs "Better late than never." The Kraken says.

Theon then gets on his knees and lowers his head in front of Robb. 

"I am ready to face the King's Justice," Theon says softly. 

Robb got down to eye level with Theon, looking him in the eyes. "Look at me." He says, but Theon does not raise his head.

"LOOK AT ME, THEON!" Robb yells in rage, making Jon and the Direwolves jump. 

Theon slowly picks his head up, looking at Robb in the eyes.

"Are you my brother?" Robb softly asks.

Theon's eyes widen as water begins to build up in them as he chokes back a sob, he then says "Now and Always."

The Hours later he had found himself in Dacey's room, watching as she dressed for the march to King's Landing. He sat in a nearby chair, Grey Wind at his feet as his trusted sword donned the armor of her family. Her hair had already been tied back and Robb honestly thought she could not have looked any more beautiful. 

"And what are you smiling about, Young Pup? Dacey says coming closer to Robb, who stands up to meet his knight. She readies herself for a snarky reply, but instead, her King wraps his arms around her and holds the new Lady of Bear Island close, kissing her on the top of the head.

"Thank you, for everything," Robb whispered as he holds her close.

Dacey isn't sure what to do or say, the two hadn't moved any further than the sole kiss he had left on her lips many nights ago yet it felt right to be where he was. 

Robb pulled away from her head and Dacey placed her battle-hardened hand on his face. Most men would probably prefer the touch of a delicate hand, one that held no marks, yet Robb loved the way her hand felt on her face. It was the hand that held the sword she fought alongside with, the hand she would use to point at him when she was giving a jest, the hand she had laid on his the night of the Red Wedding when they had believed their lives at an end. 

"Here we stand." Dacey says softly, reciting the words of her house.

"Here we stand." Robb repeats. 

"Just you, me, and an army ready to shove our swords up the Lion's ass," Dacey said as she, smirking wickedly as her eye's playful looked into his own.

Robb grinned back at her "I couldn't think of anything better...Let's go win a war.

King's Landing

The day had finally come, Robb stood in front of the armies of The Reach, Storm's End, The Vale, Dorne, the Riverlands and the North. Next to him were Stannis and his party made up of his trusted generals and Hand of the King Davos Seaworth. The Queen and Princess had gone to Storm's End to be with the newly legitimized Bastard Edric Baratheon and Mya Baratheon, a woman his mother had found at the Vale. Robb's trust allies, that would follow him into the heart of the battle were Dacey Mormont, Jon Stark, Theon Greyjoy, the GreatJon Umber, Ser Gendry Baratheon, and Oberyn Martell, who he knew was just coming to have a chance at personally killing Tywin. 

Robb looked at Stannis, silently asking the man what now. While for the first time in his life Robb realized Stannis needed his help. Stannis was a man of few words and was not the most charismatic person to rally the soldiers. It was then Robb realized the task would have to fall on him, yet he didn't know what to say. He was scared out of his mind. The March to King's Landing had been mostly him trying not to shit his guts out in fear.

Against his better judgment though, Robb Stark walked forward to stand in front of the crowd of armies before speaking as loudly as he could, hoping some would here.

"I had started this war wanting revenge, wanting to kill every Lannister and rescue my family, go home. All I had wanted out of my life was to be a Lord's son...I had no idea how to be a King." Robb said honestly. "I made mistakes...more than I could ever count. Winning every battle, yet losing the war. Now I realized this isn't about revenge."

Robb looked back at his guards, "Its not." He says truthfully.

"It is for justice," Robb wields Ice in his hand, the large sword almost an extension of his body. "Today we remember Elia Martell and her children! We remember Jon Arryn, Robert Baratheon, and my father Eddard Stark! We remember every man, woman, and child who has died in this horrible war! I ask you all to not fighting today for the sake of blood, or vengeance, but for Freedom! For Justice!" 

The armies roar, holding up their various weapons and shields. 

Ghost and Grey Wind howl loudly. 

"Here we stand!" Robb Stark roars holding up Ice to the heavens "We face an army of Lions, Unsullied, Dothraki, three dragons, yet we will not fall today! No longer shall the realm bow to the Lion! No longer shall we let our lives be destroyed by the Dragons! 

Robb and Stannis met eyes once more, and then Stannis turned to the men and raised his sword Lightbringer. 

“Charge!” The Stag Ordered.

Thus the battle began.

Chapter Text

We Remeber

 Kingswood 

Their final night before the last battle. They gave their speeches, rallied the men, and everyone was willing to do what must be done. Robb walked through his army of the North with Grey Wind, shaking hands, smiling, and jesting at times. Finally, after hours of talking, he had found himself at his personal camp that was made up of Jon Stark, Dacey Mormont, Theon Greyjoy, Greatjon Umber, Sandor Glegane, Edric Dayne,  and Oberyn Martell. 

Robb sat down near the fire, exhaling deeply as he scratched Grey Wind on the ears. Grey Wind leaned into his head, grunting in happiness. 

"It's been one hell of an adventure," Robb said to the Wolf who barked back at him. "I couldn't have done this without you, boy." He said placing his head against the wolf's head. It was true, without Grey Wind he would have been dead long ago. Every battle, every altercation, it was always Grey Wind there for him.

Grey Wing was now the size of a horse and was the main reason Robb had a bigger tent than everyone, besides Jon that is since Ghost was that large as well. As the Direwolf and King sat at the fire, Dacey Mormont sat down next to him, plopping down. Soon he was joined by the others around the fire, and the air was filled with laughter and stories as the small group talked amongst each other.

Jon took a seat next to Dacey, causing the King to raise an eyebrow. Jon chuckles and shook his head, giving a signal that all was well, so Robb nodded and turned back to look into the fire. Jon grabbed Longclaw from his side and held it in his lap. Dacey, who had been watching Jon from the corner of her eye stared at the sword.

"Aye, my family's sword," Dacey muttered looking at the longsword. "My mother had thought it had died with my uncle." 

"No," Jon said simply. "I had saved him from..." Jon's voice trailed off and his eyes met Theon's, who had been looking at him, waiting to see if he would voice the truth of how he had gotten the sword. Jon remembered killing a Wight to earn the sword, but none of the truth about the others yet beyond the souls in the North still fighting...none besides Theon and Robbat least. Theon because he had served in the Watch to see it and Robb because Jon had told him so. He wondered how the Watch was fairing without him. After Jon had gotten back to Winterfell he had told Rickon about the problems further North. Rickon believed him, telling him stories of the dreams Bran was having before they left.Their youngest brother spoke of a place of always winter, and in it, Bran had seen the Heart of Winter. Whatever Bran had seen there had left him in years. The first problem they had to deal with though was the Wilding attack that was about to hit the Wall. Rickon ordered some of their loyal bannermen and Stannis sent his men to fight as well. Jon hadn't known much, but he knew it was a one-sided fight and many wildlings would have to be dealt with, yet still the Others...

Jon shook his head, clearing his thoughts. A different enemy for another time. 

"I saved him from an attacker and he gave me this as thanks." Jon looked at the sword sadly, then presented it to Dacey. "This belongs to House Mormont...This belongs to you."

Dacey looked at the blade longingly. She would be a liar if she said having her family's ancestral weapon, yet...

"Jon,  I will not steal your sword," Dacey said lightly. "What are you going to do? Punch the dragons?"

Robb, who had been silent throughout the conversation, choked back a laugh at the mental image of Jon punching the Targaryen girl's dragon. "She's got a point there, brother."

"Aye, she does." Jon agrees but hands the sword over to Dacey anyway. "But this sword belongs to the Mormonts, not the Starks." Jon said. He had loved the blade when he had still been a Snow. It had made him feel like more than just a bastard. He believed that was why Commander Mormont had given it to him, yet he wasn't ashamed of being a bastard anymore. There was no shame in it. He had more than other bastards would ever have. He had a family, a Direwolf, a purpose, and a seat at Robb's table from this day till his last. He would find his own path. No matter what it be.

 Dacey took the sword, hands shaking for reasons she didn't even understand. She stood up, unsheeting the blade and swinging it, taking in the feel of it. She then sat down and hugged Jon tightly. "Thank you, Jon." She said softly. 

Jon's eyes widen and he shoots a look at Robb, making sure his brother isn't ready to kill him, yet his brother just smiles and he settles. He hadn't been back with Robb long, but he knew Dacey Loved the Young Wolf and he loved her back. As he held Dacey, Jon thought of a Wildling woman kissed by fire beyond the wall and thought of a sweeter time. Gods he missed her. Yet he doubted they'd meet again. A time of passion was not love, even if he felt it. 

Dacey let go of Jon and caught Robb's eye, beaming at him as she held her family's sword. She hugged the blade close, fighting back the emotions that were welling up inside her. This sword was her uncle, this sword was her sisters, this sword was her mother. 

Robb looked at his own family's sword Ice. This could be his last battle with it. He wondered if he did fall who would take up the sword for him. Jon might fall with him as well, and Bran was somewhere further north. So they were out of the question. That meant his heir would have to be Sansa. Robb wondered how his younger sister was. After he heard she had survived he had changed his will to write her back into it. He hadn't seen her since she had left for King's Landing as those nightmares ago. If he fell then she would have to take up Ice and finish what he started. She would be the Red Wolf, the Queen in the North, as well as Queen of the Trident and the Vale. It made him smile internally as he thought of the mental image of Sansa running around with the giant greatsword Ice in her hand trying to kill the Old Lion Tywin, and it made him chuckle on the outside too. Without knowing it, he began to howl loudly and the group around him silently watched him. Some with small smiles on their face like the Greatjon, his brother, and Dacey, who thought of Robb's smile as a rare yet treasured sight. 

Ser Sandor Clegane sat himself down, drinking some Ale. "The fuck is the King laughing about?" He asked. Thanks to his efforts in the West, Sandor had been knighted and would be more gold than he could hold when the war was over for the reward of protecting Princess Arya Stark and his help in saving the Queen Mother and King.

"Just thinking about a Red Wolf running around with my sword." Robb lightly said as he drank some Ale as well. 

"I think you've had enough, your grace," Greatjon said laughing loudly. "We don't want you ending up like that lightweight!" he then pointed to Ser Edric Dayne who only had two cups of Ale each and was already dozing off.

"No, Arya that is not legal in Dorne either..." Edric mumbled.

Robb shook his head, ignoring the knight. Gods he missed his siblings. He couldn't wait to see the little pups again. He sat back and aimed his head towards the stars, "I can't wait till we can have another feast again." He spoke out loud. He couldn't wait to dance with Sana, talk with his mother, wrestle with Arya, go horse riding with Bran, whenever he got home and share stories of adventure with Rickon. He thought of lazy mornings with Grey Wind, playing with the wolf from morning till night. His eyes fell on Dacey and he smiled gently. Robb thought of days in Bear Island, walking with Dacey, talking with her, sparring with her. That would be...good. He was ready, he was ready to start a new life. Hopefully, he lived. 

 "Aye," Jon agreed, looking up as well. Jon thought of finally sitting at the table with his siblings with pride. Catelyn and he had been trading letters back and forth and while they weren't the closet yet...it felt good to actually have someone he could think of as a mother in his life. After burning Howland's letter he often thought about if it had been the right or wrong thing to do, yet he didn't regret it. As much as their relationship wasn't the best, Catelyn still fed him, Catelyn still let him sleep in her castle. Catelyn, while not the best in his childhood, was still his mother. They would make right what was wrong somehow.

Dacey thought of her sisters. Teaching little Lyanna new fighting moves and bossing around her sisters, playing with her niece and nephew...Visting her mother's grave. Her eyes met Robb, who quickly turned away, staring at his sword like it was the most damned interesting thing in the world. She smiled softly. The boy could run into war head first and not blink an eye, yet even after they had shared a kiss he still was not sure what to do with her. She wasn't sure if Robb knew of his feelings for her, yet she did. She loved Robb Stark. Not just as her king, or as her friend, but she loved him as a woman does a man. They had been friends since they were kids. She followed him into the hells of war and held him as he cried. A bear could wait for the wolf to figure somethings out. The war came first.

Greatjon thought of Cat. Her hair kissed by fire hair, her sharp wit, the way her hand felt in his when he shook it, her soft body in his arms as he hugged her. Aye, the King was going to kill him. 

Sandor was going to go to Dorne after the war. He and Oberyn had become close in the war and after bonding in their shared hatred of Gregor, he agreed to help bring justice to the false night together for House Martell, for Elia Martell...For the sister Sandor remembers from his nightmares that screamed and pleaded for help, yet her pleas fell on dead ears. No, not now. Sandor would end Gregor. 

Theon imagined Winterfell. He imagined coming back as a hero, him and Robb being good again. They had talked on and off since their first meet up again in years, but they were still long away from being back to normal. He would fight for Robb and not fail him this time. He would go home to his family of wolves and then to the Iron Islands to see his sister. He would redeem the name Greyjoy maybe even earn the respect of his real brothers again.

Edric thought of home as well. He hadn't been to Starfall since before his Eddard Stark had ordered him to take the Moutain in all those years ago. He missed home, he missed the feeling of the Dornish sun kissing his skin. He did plan to visit Winterfell before returning home. He wanted to see Princess Arya one more time.  The young prince blushed slightly as he thought of the Princess. They had gotten to know each other over their time on the road and it wasn't until she was gone that the young Lord of Starfall knew...The Lord smiled to himself. 

Oberyn imagined what life would be like after the Lannisters and the Moutain were gone...So many years living with rage and hatred, so long planning and this little Wolf, no older than ten had given him his revenge along with the boy's siblings and mother. What would be his life after that? Oberyn realized he could finally put Elia to rest and move on. That...that would be freeing. 

Robb stood up, holding his ale in front of his friends and comrades. "I may not live to see our glory," He said holding his glass high.

Dacey, Greatjon, Theon, and Jon who had grown up hearing the Nothern chant joined in with Robb, "I may not live to see our glory!" They said repeating the King.

"But I will gladly join the fight." Robb continued.

The four Northerners repeated him. "But I will gladly Join the fight!"

"And when our Children tell our stories," Robb said looking directly at Dacey, causing the woman to smile as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and looked away. "They'll tell the story of tonight." 

Jon listened to the Northern chant and for the first time, he thought of a life where he could have kids, a life where he could own land and rise above. He wasn't a bastard anymore, yet with Robb, he never felt like a bastard. With Robb, he was just...Jon. As much of a Stark as his half-siblings. 

As the group started to break up, Jon stood up and held his glass high.

"Let's have another round tonight!" He said loudly.

The group exchanged glances then smiled, sitting back down.

"Let's have another round tonight!" Robb said grabbing his ale.

Dacey scooted closer to Robb, cheekily smiling, "Let's have another round tonight!" 

"Let's have another round tonight!" Oberyn and Edric said at the same time.

"LET'S HAVE ANOTHER FUCKING ROUND TONIGHT, YA BUNCH OF FUCKING CUNTS!" Sandor yelled like a madman as he chugged two ales at once. 

Greatjon was the last to say anything, standing up and holding his Ale high he began to sing. "Raise a glass to freedom! Something they can never take away." 

The people who had never heard Greatjon sing were surprised and impressed with his lovely voice, yet for the likes of Robb, Jon, Dacey, and Theon, it was just a pleasant sight that they had not seen in many moons. 

"No matter what they tell you!" Greatjon sang, "Let's have another round tonight!" 

"Raise a glass to all of us," Oberyn sang, surprising everyone that he had known the Nothern song. Though it shouldn't surprise them since the Red Viper had traveled much of the world and spent time learning about many things.

Dacey, Theon, Jon, and Robb joined in the singing, "Tomorrow they'll be more of us! Telling the story of tonight!"

"They'll tell the story of tonight," The group around them sang along, learning the words as the Northerner's repeated it. 

The camp echoed with singing and laughter as the small group enjoyed their final night before the battle.

Stannis looked out from his ship, in the distance was King's Landing. He would take the city this time and let none stand in his way. Not just because the Throne was his right, but that it was the right thing to do...It is what Robert would have done, and maybe even Renly. 

He heard footsteps behind him and turned to see Gendry, his nephew. The boy had insisted on coming along with him instead of the Stark boy.

"Nephew," He muttered. 

"Uncle." The boy responded politely. 

Gendry played with his Warhammer, mind spinning. He had gone from a simple blacksmith apprentice, a bastard, to a Knight in the brotherhood without banners and now he was a Prince and heir to his uncle King Stannis if anything were to happen to him and the princess. He had cousins, Edric, Mya, and Shireen. All three of whom were at Storm's End, his future home. They had been writing each other every chance they could. Oddly enough a man named Mace Tyrell had been writing him inviting him to High Garden. In fact, he had gotten letters from many of the Tyrells. 

"I got another Raven from the Tyrells today." Gendry said to him.

Stannis ground his teeth. "Leave them, boy. They are allies of the Wolf, not ours. If it was up to me I would have had all of their heads for aiding the Lions.

The Baratheon boy nodded his head, hiding the parchment that had been signed by Margaery Tyrell.

They sat in silence for a moment, Stannis sighed, knowing why the boy was here. "You wish to know about your father don't you, boy?"

Gendry nodded his head, "Yes, Sir." He replied.

Grinding his teeth again, Stannis wished his daughter was here. She was better at words than he. "Your father...your father was..."

"I heard he was a drunken fool." Gendry whispered in shame. Knowing his father couldn't have been a good man.

"No." Stannis sternly said. "Your father was a hero. He ended the war, killed Rhaegar, and held the realm together in a peace that died with him." Stannis talked in a voice he did not know. "This is why we are here, Gendry. To avenge your father, to finish the job he started."

Gendry lifted his head up at Stannis, hopes lighting as well. "Can you tell me?"

Sighing Stannis began to talk more of Robert, telling the boy war stories and of his brother's best moments. It surprised Stannis to know he had more positive memories of Robert than negative. Before long he found himself chuckling at the memory of his wild brother. 

As the Baratheons talked, Davos sat off to the side, enjoying a book he had borrowed from the Princess. 

Hours later after many had gone to sleep, Robb and Grey Wind were a little aways from camp. Sleep had evaded them, so Robb had taken Grey Wind further into the woods to play fetch. A simple and almost childlike game considering the events that were about to happen, yet the wolf deserved some fun. Though he had to toss a log instead of a stick since Grey Wind was very large at this point. The wolf padded his paws on the ground in excitement, waiting for Robb to throw the log. 

"You want this? Robb whispered making Grey Wind growl lowly at him. Ever the smart wolf, Grey Wind knew the others were sleeping so he did not bark like he would do if this was in the day.

Robb chucked the log and Grey wind took off after it. 

The two played the game back and forth till they were interrupted by Dacey Mormont, who walked into their little clearing with a yawn. 

"Now shouldn't you two wolves be sleeping?" She asked, jesting lightly. 

Robb smiled and walked up to Dacey, who in turn walked to him too. She leaned into him and let the comforting feel of his arms draped around her as she rested her head on his shoulder with a sigh. 

"We're going to fucking kill some lions tomorrow...you ready?" Dacey asked softly.

"I hope so,' Robb said truthfully. "I...I don't want to die." He whispered, sounding more like the young man he was and not the confident King Persona he put on. "What if I fall, or Jon, or even Theon? What if they hurt Ghost or Grey Wind" he was rambling now, anxiety choking in his voice. "What if I lose you-"

Dacey cut her King off by smashing her lips against his as tackled him to the ground. The two kissed each other roughly, opening their mouths to each other. Built-in tension and cravings rising to the surface as they grabbed the other's body. They both wanted this badly. 

They broke apart, gasping for air. Dacey looked down at Robb, tracing her fingers against his face lovingly.

"We are not going to die," She said as she kissed him lightly again. "We're going to win, we'll beat the Lannisters, and we'll go home." 

Robb kissed her back gently, and their hands started to explore the other's body, but they were stopped as Grey Wind jumped on top of them and started to play.

Dacey and Robb let out a laugh, ignoring what had just happened and started to wrestle and play with the Direwolf. Grey Wind deserved more than enough love for always coming to their aid in battle.

King's Landing

Tywin sat in the office of the Hand of the King. He could never sleep before a battle and with this being the biggest of his life, he knew that sleep would not come. Tyrion had been quiet of a late, keeping to himself, barely even drinking. Cersei had not taken Joffrey disappearing well and was a shell of her former self. Daenerys...the woman was hard to place. She had never seemed to like Joffrey, yet if all accounts of the bedding and screaming were to be taken into consideration, then she had at least shared a bed with him. No matter. The Dragon and Lion's houses were tied at last. 

The imposter who had claimed to be Rhaeger's son was banished to the Black Cells and his army from the Golden Company had declared for Daenerys instead. They had her army of savages, the Unsullied, and Qyburn had been experimenting with her dragons, though the girl hadn't known yet. She would in time. They were growing larger faster, which would help in the wars to come.

Stannis would be attacking from the rear with his Navy as well as the Greyjoys, so that is where the Golden Company would meet him, as well as the Unsullied. The front would be the rest of Stark's army. That is where his forces and the savages would fight...He prayed it would be enough. 

Tywin looked into the darkness as he thought of this damned war his family started. Robb Stark was like him. A poor boy forced to fight a war for his father's foolishness...He respected him for coming this far, but this is where it would have to end. Tywin would burn the realm to end this war and if he had to become the Lion of the ashes then so be it!

"And now the rains weep o'er his hall, with no one there to hear." Tywin called into the night.

Let it be known that the War for the Five King's started with a loud howl from King Robb Stark's Direwolf Grey Wind.  

The battle became a bloody one soon, men of both sides fell as the forces of Robb Stark's met Tywin's head on as they charged at the gate of King's Landing. In the rea of King's Landing the Battle for Blackwater had begun again, but this time with the Greyjoys and Stannis' side by side. It became clear that the battle was changing in the tides as the Stark forces and Baratheon began to overtake Tywin's. 

Men fought and men died as weapons of all times were used to kill the other. The Stark forces began to overtake the savages and Lannisters, and the gate to King's Landing would be there's soon.

That is when the Dragons came. 

Viserion had taken the rear and began laying havoc on Stannis and the Greyjoys.

Rhaegal had taken the front. The Dragon had flown above the Stark forces and let out an inferno of fire, killing many soldiers from house Tyrell. 

Robb and Jon looked on in horror as a creature from Old Nan stories rose from their nightmares and started to burn their comrades into ash.

"Robb get in there! We'll handle this!" Jon yelled as he ran to his horse, sliting the throat of Lannister soldiers he did so. Robb, who was beyond conflicted, knew he had to push forward and led his men deeper into King's landing as the armies from the Reach, Riverlands, and Dorne fought alongside his company. 

The fires from Rhaegal were making it harder to attack him, yet the beast was not fully grown nor had a rider to control it. Thus he was just attacking blindly, killing any man that got in his sight without knowing friend or foe which made it easier for Jon's forces to attack him as well as the enemy. 

Oberyn had thrown a well-aimed spear at the dragon and managed to hit the dragon in ts inner wing when it had begun to fly, causing it to yelp in pain. Jon grabbed a lance that had been left by a corpse of the Lannister and charged at Rhaegal. The dragon though spotted him at the last second and sent a wave of fire at Jon, luckily Edric Dawn had raced his horse at Jon's and managed to save him at the last minute by tackling him off it just as the horses were burnt to ash. 

The Dragon dove to attack Jon but just as it was about to snap its teeth around him the beast stopped short as Ghost had pounced on it's back, biting at his neck. The Dragon tried to reach Ghost, but the Wolf kept biting down on it and avoided his attacks. Just as Rhaegal was about to latch his teeth into Ghost, the dragon screamed in pain.

Jon looked down to see that Edric Dayne was further below the beast as well and had stabbed it with his sword Dawn as it was flying into to kill Jon. Rhaegal flipped Ghost off him with a whip of his head and when the Direwolf went to pounce on him again, he cracked his tail at him like a whip, sending the wolf away from him as it cried out in pain. 

"Ghost!" Jon screamed as he punched the dragon with his bare hand, ignoring the feeling of pain that screamed through his fist. 

Edric dug the blade in Rhaegal and he let out a cry of pain as it felt the world fade. The dragon looked at Jon in hatred and was ready to breathe fire on him again.

"Jon!" Edric screeched "Kill it before it breathes again!" 

The Sword of the Morning pulled Dawn free of the dragon and quickly tossed it as Jon. 

The dragon screeched in rage and dove at him, yet Jon thrust the blade forward, ramming it through the dragon's head. The dragon let out a weak cry and died instantly. 

Jon ripped dawn from the blade of Rhaegal's mouth, the dragon that had been rumored to be named after Daenerys’ brother Rhaeger, the man that kidnapped his aunt. He did not know why, but by killing the dragon he felt as if he had done something that his father and Robert Baratheon would have been thankful for. 

"Ghost!" Jon remembered and sprinted towards his Direwolf. 

Ghost was laying on its side, breathing heavy as blood dripped from the wound that the dragon had left. He couldn’t move. All the Direwolf could do was whine as blood dripped from him.

"No, no, no, no," Jon cried as he ripped off his armor and his tunic, tying it around his wolf. "Please don't die," He said again and again as he held the panting wolf close. Edric Dayne meanwhile had stepped in front of Jon and was defending, cutting down any soul that tried to reach him as he comforted his Direwolf. "PLEASE, GHOST!" Jon cried as he held the Wolf close.

Ghost used his last strength to give Jon a small lick before resting his head back on the ground and closing his eyes. He was so tired. He wondered if his human would mind if he took a short sleep...just for a bit.

”Ghost?” Jon whispered as the Direwolf stopped whining. Jon shook the Wolf but he did not move. “GHOST!”

The only sounds that were heard were the screams of rage and despair from Jon as he held his best friend's body close.

Robb and company raced through the streets of King's Landing. "Don't stop!" Robb roared as Grey Wind ran ahead of them, doing his best to avoid enemy soldiers. Robb's company ran as fast as they could, avoiding everyone as they dived through the cites. 

Dacey swung Longclaw with a roar and tore through 4 Lannister soldiers at once as she elbowed a Savage. 

Oberyn danced around the soldiers, slitting throats and cutting ankles with ease. 

The Greatjon was knocking soldiers down like a fast-moving bolder. Cracking skulls and breaking bones with every swing of his mighty ax. 

Theon sent arrow after arrow after arrow into enemy's, watching as they fall. 

It was when they got to the Red Keep that Drogon appeared, breathing fire as it raced towards them.

The group stormed into the Red Keep as they tried to dive and hide away from the largest dragon's fire. 

Robb and Theon were Drogon's main target he chased them through the castle, crashing and destroying everything in his way.

It was then that Drogon's eye's rolled into the back of it's skull and it frooze in the air. The dragon tried to move but couldn't. Theon looked at the dragon in confusion, but Robb knew what it meant. Someone was warging into the dragon...but who? Warging into Grey Wind took it out of him, but a dragon? 

It did not matter. They needed to act now.

"Theon, take aim!" Robb howled as he fought and killed two Lannister soldiers as he swung Ice with a strong swing.

Theon shaking off his shock aimed his arrow at Drogon, but the dragon broke from of its trance and roared, fire-breathing from its mouth.

Drogon chased after the group as they sprinted and skid through the halls trying to avoid Drogon. 

Eventually it led to Robb being singled out as the dragon snapped at him, getting closer and closer. 

Grey Wind ran at Drogon ready to attack the Dragon, but Robb tackled the Direwolf, using all of his strength to get his friend away from the beast. 

Drogon set its sight on the two, roaring in rage as it dove closer, yet just as it was about to make contact with Robb and Grey Wind an arrow was sent into it's eye, making his head recoil in pain as it roared fire. Robb, not waiting for the beast to recover, grabbed Ice and plunged it deep into Drogon's heart with a loud howl. The Dragon roared, yet Robb stabbed the blade deeper till it was in him chest deep.

Panting, Robb slowly pulled the blade out of Drogon's body. Blood poured out of its body as the greatsword was held by his side. Theon limped over to him, smiling at him. 

"Theon....thank you." Robb said as he brought the man into a brotherly hug. 

Theon flinched at first but melted into the hug as well, before pushing Robb away. "Come on, your grace. let's finish this." 

Dacey was fighting Ser Jorah in the halls, the two Mormonts battling out on separate sides. 

"Please, Dacey," Jorah called out as he clashed swords with her, looking at his family's sword. "Don't do this."

"Here I stand!" Dacey roared as she punched Jorah, and clashed swords again whe nhe tried to cut at her.

The two bears danced around each other, swords clashing against each other. Jorah side stepped Dacey, sending an elbow to her neck, causing her to gasp. She fell forward, dodging his knee that nearly connected with her face, and kicked his legs out from under him.

Jorah caught himself as he threw himself against a wall, then dodged her punch. Dacey's fist connected to the wall, creating a hole, and as she pulled it out, Jorah backhanded her in the face. Dacey's lip split and she spit out the blood that had formed in her mouth. She roared at Jorah and tackled him through a partially destroyed wall. 

The two wrestled on the ground until Dacey had found her way on top of him and stabbed him in the arm with a scream before knocking him out with her armored fist. She pulled out the sword from Jorah, grunting as she did so. Looking down at Jorah she thought about finishing him off, but didn't. The man was still family. She ran past him and kicked open the door he had been guarding, yet there was nothing inside it. Where was the Queen? 

During the battle of the Red Keep, Robb had found himself fighting without his company and his guards had all been separated from him, yet he still held his own. When he walked into the throne room he found Cersei dead on the floor, a vile of what he guessed to be poison by her corpse. He walked forward to the Iron Throne, ready to touch the throne when a hot pain shot through his shoulder and leg as crossbow bolts passed into his body. He then felt a stabbing pain in his stomach. He tried to roll out of the way but he felt a sharp slash against his back, ripping open his armor. 

Robb howled in pain as he fell back on the Iron Throne, sitting on it, holding his bleeding body. Tywin Lannister was across from him holding two swords. 

"The Old Lion of the Rock..." Robb gritted out through the pain as he stood. 

Tywin nodded his head, "The Young Wolf of Winterfell." Tywin said back. "I had hoped we'd be able to meet in person." 

Robb chuckled, standing up with the help of Ice. "Aye, I will not lie, I had hoped as well." 

Tywin eyed Ice, "I had wondered where the sword had gone."

"It belongs to my family." Robb bit back.

"Indeed," Tywin replied. "These swords," Tywin said holding up his dual swords. "Blackfyre and Dark sister...the two Valyrian steel swords that the Dragons brought over in their conquest. I had been saving this for my grandchildren after the war was finally over, but it would seem...it would seem it all has to end here." Tywin sighed. 

Robb nodded back, raising Ice, "I fight for the Starks, you the Lannisters." Robb laughed internally, not letting the irony of the Kingslayer's words be lost on him.

The two men raced at each other, swinging their swords. Tywin punctured Robb's stomach, while Robb stabbed Stabbed Tywin through the chest. Both men coughed up blood and pulled their swords from each other. Robb fell to the steps leading to the Iron Throne. Tywin staggered to the steps as well, sitting next to Robb, holding his bleeding chest as Robb held his stomach, body burning from the multiple crossbow bolts he had sticking out of him. 

Tywin and Robb sat side by side, panting and bleeding all over the floor. Neither men said a word till Robb looked at Tywin, chuckling sadly. 

"We really are alike aren't we?" Robb choked out.

Tywin nodded his head, speaking slowly he said, "It...it would seem." He looked at Rob.

Robb looked at Tywin as the man's breathing started to labor, "You ready?" He asked.

Sighing, Tywin nodded his head. "Do your duty, Young Wolf."

"As you wish...Old Lion." Robb softly said, standing up on shaky legs.

"I, Robb of house Stark, King in the North, King in the Trident, and the Vale, sentence you, Lord Tywin Lannister, Warden of the West, to die. Do you have any last words?" Robb's voice was pained and horse, yet he didn't stutter. His Lord Father taught him to talk with respect and look the man you would kill in the eyes. 

 Tywin softly spoke in such a low voice that Robb could barely hear, "I will be with you soon, Joanna." Then not a word else. 

Robb used all the strength he had left and decapitated Tywin Lannister with one swing.

The Old Lion had fought and lost...Now it was his time to rest.

Robb dropped Ice with a clang, coughing up blood and falling to his knees. He willed all his strength to move.

"Dacey," Robb grabbed the edge of the throne and forced himself to stand. "Mother," he said, "Grey Wind..." 

The King in the North fell on the Throne, hanging his head low. His body was giving out on him and he could not stay awake any longer.

Robb looked up, trying to compose himself. He...he didn’t want to go. Not like this. Not when he was so close.

The Young Wolf lowered his head and closed his eyes. If this was it...he would hold himself with dignity.

The Starks never did fair well south.

As Robb start to feel himself fade, he heard the doors open and his head jerked up. 

Stannis marched through the door. Davos, Melisandre, Asha, Dacey and Grey Wind following him. "It's over!" He echoed through the Throne Room. "We've won."

Robb smirked as he bled all over the Iron Throne. "I beat you to the Throne, Stannis." The World went black and the last thing Robb heard was Grey Wind barking and Dacey’s voice.

There could be worse ways to go...

The Battle for King's Landing ended with the death of Tywin Lannister and Cersei Lannister, as well as the 3 Dragons that been brought over by the Mad King's Daughter. Daenerys Targaryen had not been found in the city. Tommen had not been found either. The dead had been accounted for, the fallen cared for in the following weeks. 

The weeks following were marked right in the history books as the Trial of the realm. The Savages Daenerys had brought over had to be put down. Most of them refused to do anything but try to fight them. The few that were smart enough chose the option to take the Black. As well as many of the surviving soldiers of the Lannisters who were deemed war criminals. 

Tyrion Lannister, the only surviving Lannister in King's landing from Tywin's branch had been given the option to bend the knee and become Lord of Castle Rock for opening the gates and saving Robb's army, as well as his treatment of the Princess Sansa Stark. 

Stannis and Robb had commissioned the Iron Throne to be melted down. Destroying the last trace of the Targaryen conquest that had plagued the realm for over 300 years. 

The Coronation of Stannis Baratheon had been a one for the ages as the entire realm had come to see it. Even the Tyrells, who reluctantly made an appearance to show good faith to the Starks. 

Robb, who had been recovering still, sat in a tower of the Red Keep watching as the people of King's landing celebrated the end of the war, a knock on the door took his attention away and Robb Stark called out to the knocker to enter. 

The person at the door had been Melisandre, who swayed over to Robb, a coy smile on her face.

"The Young Wong, my God had told me you had been given a second choice, and I hadn't believed it at first, but here you are." She purred touching his face.

Robb gently pushed her hand away, "The Old Gods had been good to me I would suppose." He said. It had been no secret that the Red Woman worshiped a different God than the ones he did, yet he would bite his teeth and deal with her crazy talk. "The Red Wedding had been a close call."

The woman smiled and Robb felt a dark feeling wash over him. "In the flames, I saw a world where the King of Winter's head was the Wolf and the realm burned...then froze, yet now the King has risen again."

"Woman, leave the King in the North alone." Stannis grumbled as he stomped into the room. 

The Fire woman sighed, and let her finger trace the stumbled jaw of Robb's. "Till we meet again, Robb Stark."

Melisandre walked out of the room, passing Stannis a polite nod and closed the door gently behind her.

Robb followed her out, then rolled his eyes once she had left. "You really need to find new help, Baratheon," Robb said as he stood up. 

"Stark you run around with two giant Direwolves and a North Man who sings as he drinks," Stannis replied as he adjusted the crown on his head. "Damned thing." Stannis muttered as he started grinding his teeth. "I never asked for this crown...Gold is cold and heavy on the head that wears it.

Robb picked up his mental crown that had swords in it, "That is why my crown is better." He said placing it on his head. 

The King of Winter limped over to Stannis and held his hand out, "I'll be leaving for Winterfell soon...I suppose this is goodbye then Stannis." 

Stannis shook his hand firmly. "Yout father would be proud of you." 

Smiling thankfully, Robb nodded at Stannis and looked back at him, smiling through his aching body. "Robert would have been proud of you too, Stannis...as well as Renly." 

Stannis looked back at Robb, a mixture of emotions played on his face, but the King of Stags said nothing. He did offer Robb a genuine smile though and Robb felt that had meant more.

"The realm may be safe, but the Dragon Queen has escaped my grasp again." Stanis said in annoyance. 

Robb shrugged, grunting in pain after realizing that had been the wrong move. "She was more than likely killed in the struggle... or worse. Even if she managed to get out of the city. Her dragons are dead, throne melted down. The time of dragons is gone forever." 

Stannis grunted but did not argue.

"My brother speaks of a King Beyond the wall..." Robb cringed, holding his ribs. "He will have to be the next to die." Robb then held his hand out to Stannis. "But, I'm heading home. I must see my family."

Stannis looked at Rob's hand and took his hand firmly. "Go home, Wolf. Your war is done here. And make sure to visit my Nephew. He has something for you."

Winterfell

As his horse came over the hill to Winterfell, Robb finally felt at home. He adjusted the heavy sack on his back, hoping not to lose what he was holding. As he got closer to the gates he saw his family and Robb's heart sore. Outside was the Queen Mother Catelyn dressed in a fine black dress that held a cloak connected with a silver Wolf and Trout. Besides his mother was Princess Sansa, who had chosen to keep her hair shorter, but let her firey bangs grow longer. Her outfit held patches of a Wolf and Trout on each shoulder. Princess Arya had actually grown her hair out yet held it in a ponytail. Her outfit matched Sansa's only while Sansa was dressed in Silver and dark grey, Arya was dressed in Blue and red. Prince Rickon had at last cut his hair and now had a short style fit for a  Lord, or prince in Rickon's case. Jon was next to his youngest brother, bearing the sigil of House Stark on his clothes, only the sigil of the wolf was White with Red eyes instead of Robb's Grey Wolf with Yellow eyes. His hair was also trimmed a bit shorter and his face was cleanly shaven. Jon looked like a true Wolf Knight.

Nymeria, Shaggydog, Lady, and a limping Ghost taking up the rear of the pack, made their way to the party of Starks. Ghost had been hurt severely during the Battle for King's Landing. There had been some touch and go moments, but luckily he had made a full recovery. Grey Wind barked in happiness as he saw his littermates and the wolf ran towards them in joy. Grey Wind licked Ghost and nipped at his fur and cuddled close to him. The other Wolves then began to attack Grey Wind in love as the Wolf barked in happiness.

Jon and Robb embraced in a big brotherly hug, holding each other close. After a few beats, the two finally broke apart.

"You look well, brother," Robb said as he took in Jon's appearance. His clothes had looked like his mother or sister had stitched them. "A little brooding still, but better than usual. 

"You look much better than the corpse we found." Jon laughed as he took in his brother's cleaned up and healthy appearance. "I see Arya's new clothes had found you well.

Robb nodded, admiring the sigil of the wolf and trout that had been stitched onto his clothes. "She has gotten much better at it hasn't she?" Robb chuckles. Robb couldn't honestly believe it. Arya was making clothes and Sansa was training with a sword. It really was the end of the world. Robb looked away from Jon and at Winterfell. He hadn't been home since his father was imprisoned by the Lannisters and here he was. The Castle was returning to its former glory. Strangers to the castle would never even be able to tell that the stone masterpiece had been sacked once. 

Robb was then tackled by Arya, almost falling backward. 

"Robb!" Arya yelled, wrapping her arms around her eldest brother. The girl had grown since Robb had last seen her, yet Robb was still able to pick her arm. Arya wrapped her legs around Robb and started sqeezing him close, trying to fight the tears. "You idoit! Jon told me you almost died!" She punched his back as he held her.

The Young Wolf glared at his brother, tossing him silent death threats as he placed Arya down. 

"Never, little sister." He whispered kissing the top of her head. 

Rickon then tackled Robb, knocking him to the ground. The Wild Wolf attacked his brother with words that were faster than Stannis pulling out his sword in a meeting with him.

"Did you take the dragons head? Where is Dacey? Is Lyanna here? Where do puppies come from? why doesthe castle make a werid noies when Jeyne and Sansa go to bed? Or when the Greatjon vists?" Rickon shot out motor mouthing.

Robb, for his part, chose to block out the last two questions, choosing to lose the battle and war and plead silence to his brother.

Raising up from the ground, Robb looked at his baby brother. Rickon looked just like him when he was that age, only older. His face had matured, his body had mucle. The boy had become a prince and led winterfell in his absece. "Rickon, Robb said softly.

The boy nodded.

The Yolf Wolf put his head down, sniffing slightly, eyes water, yet he held his compsure, "Father would be so proud."

Rickon, who had not heard much of there father felt his eyes water as well, but held in the tears. He would too old for years. Instead, he hugged his brother close. 

The two seperated and Robb ruffled his hair as he moved to greet the Queen Mother.

"Mother," Robb said in a breathless voice as the two hugged each other. 

Catelyn cupped her son's face. Gods had he grown. Robb had been born during the last war and he had become a man grown as he fought in another. 

"You've done well, Robb. You've done better than anyone could have asked." Catelyn cried softly.

Grey Wind Barked loudly.

Catelyn laughed petting Grey Wind, "As have you, Grey Wind. You have done amazing." 

Robb kissed his mother on the cheek then moved to greet his finally family member present.

He turned to Sansa, who beamed brightly at Robb. She had changed so much from what he remembered. Her face had matured from a flowing girl to a young woman. Her hair was shorter than he remebered, but he thought she looked lovely with her firey bangs hanging in front of her face. He smiled back at her. He had gone to war for her and Arya, and now they were both home...He had done it.

"It is good to see you again, sister." Robb said kindly.

Just like she had done when she had seen her other family members again, Sansa's eyes filled with tears and she through her arms around Robb. He was here and he was real. Not the boy she had dreamed of coming to rescue her, but the man that had lead the realm into a new peace. Her brother, her oldest friend, and her King. 

"I have missed you so much, Robb." She cried as hot tears fell on to Robb's shoulders. 

Robb comforted her for what felt like hours, that is until Lady, the Direwolf that he thought his father killed by all the letters from the early days before the way, tackled him and Robb was begining to think he was a training dummy. 

Lady barked in excitement as she nuzzled Robb's face over and over again. 

"I had missed you too, Lady." He said kissing the Direwolf on her head then gently pushing her off him as he stood up.

When he looked back at Jon he noticed that his half-brother had tears in his eyes. "What's the matter, Jon? Not you too?"

Jon laughed, wiping at his face. "It's nothing, Robb...there's just...snowflakes melting in your hair."

Robb touched his hair and felt it wet. Looking up towards the sky he noticed that it had begun to snow, and Robb could not help but smile sadly as he softly chuckles. 

"Winter is here." Robb said. His house and father's words finally delivering on their promise. 

The Starklings all looked too the sky, thinking of Eddard Stark.  Years later and still very much missed.

Robb took the sack that had been on his back and took its contents out. It was 5 swords that had been made of Valyrian steel, taken from the Iron Throne, and Tywin Lannister himself. The swords Blackfyre, Dark Sister, and three other swords had been reforged and turned into swords that Gendry had made for the Starklings. "Come now, let's get inside." Robb said with a smile. "It's time our family makes some new traditions." 

 At long last, a funeral had been held for the people of the Northerners who died in the Sack of Winterfell, the ones who had died when the Lannisters had attacked the Starks in the Red Keep Years ago, as well as for when the Lannisters had attacked Eddard Stark before his arrest as well. So many names: Varly, Septa Mordane, Syrio Forel, Tomard, Cayn, Hullen, Desmond, Heward, Wyl, Jory Cassel, Rodrik Cassel, and many more. Though Thanks to the death of Ramsey Snow, many of his captive victims had been returned to Winterfell like Beth Cassel and Old Nan. 

Catelyn Stark spoke of the fallen, telling tales of happier times and making the people laugh, cry, and smile fondly at the memories. It was...a bittersweet event, yet a much-needed one for Winterfell to finally have closure. 

The crypts of Winterfell, the graveyard of the Lords, Ladies, and Kings of Winter. Robb looked at the newly made statue of his father that had been built in his absence. His mother and sculptor did a marvelous job. It had looked like the exact image of his father only in stone. The King of Winter held his head down and prayed to the old Gods for his father to finally rest. Robb opened his eyes and saw out of the corner of them Jon some ways away, with his head bowed as well.

"Come now, brother." Robb said, "He was your father too.

Jon smiled sadly and joined his brother as they prayed in silence. 

Before they had left the crypts they paid their respects to the statues of Rickard, Brandon, and Lyanna Stark.

Moons later Robb found himself sitting next to Jon as they held the largest feast Winterfell had hosted since King Robert had arrived all those tears ago. Catelyn had tried to get her son to sit at the head of the table, yet he declined it in favor of working the room and speaking with everyone in it. No matter age, sex, or age. Robb had spoken to the elders, the women, even the children he had given time to. Robb had spoken to everyone.

It had been nice to hear Old Nan ramble about her stories, stories that Robb now knew to be more than just stories. Beth Cassel, the daughter of Rodrik and niece to Jory, had hugged and cried Sansa and Lady Catelyn when she had been brought back to Winterfell. The Poor girl had been locked away in the Dreadfort for so long. Robb was happy the damned Castle had been torn down brick by brick. Sandor Clegane had taken over as the Master of Arms, and while his...colorful nature was different in the South, the man was getting along well in the North. 

The Greatjon had greeted Robb with a firm shake and hugs to the women when he had arrived at the feast with his many children. Robb's eyes found Greatjon, and a silent question passed between the two. Robb knew what his mother felt for the large man. Sansa had...informed him of his mother's growing feelings and while it took a few moments of him starring off into the abyss of nothingness trying to erase the conversation of Sansa telling him how his mother is still young and how 'Needs', Robb understood what it meant. If he was allowed to love again, why couldn't his mother?

Robb nodded his head at the Greatjon and Greatjon's smile broke from ear to ear. He scooped Catelyn in a giant embrace, twirling the Queen Mother around, gaining a loud round of laughter from anyone in the room. 

The Young Wolf smiled as he found Arya, who had been sitting at a table joking with the Sword of the Morning Edric Dayne and offered her his hand. Arya rolled her eyes at Robb, yet took his hand anyway. She was no dancer, at least not without her sword, yet it was Robb and for Robb, it would always be a yes to him.

Meanwhile, Jon had done the same to Sansa, who currently had a napping Jeyne Poole on her shoulder. The girl stirred awake for a moment to wave off Sansa with a smile of approval before she went back to napping. His sister was keeping the poor girl up too late at night. 

The older Stark brothers danced with their sisters, and Greatjon had was now attempting to dance with Catelyn, though the man was a better singer than dancer. Rickon Stark and Osha were dancing as well, but to Robb, or only sane man, it looked like the two were aggressively sparring without making contact. The crowd around them tried to stay out of their way as Rickon punched the air and Osha kicked over his head. 

 Jeyne Poole had woken up and Sansa had left him to dance with her love. He watched as she grabbed the Poole girl by the waist and planted a soft kiss on her lips, whispering softly to her as they slowly danced.

Jon felt a tap on his shoulder and turned to see Catelyn offering her hand to him, and Jon sheepishly smiled and took it and the two danced. Their relationship was far from perfect, yet Catelyn was learning to love the boy as a son, and Jon was happy to finally have a mother. 

As everyone danced, Robb looked over to the Wilding woman who was dancing aggressively with Rickon. Sparing the Wildling woman had been a good call because she had become a Stark in everything but name. Robb toyed with the idea of naming her a Stark, adopting her into the family somehow...

He wondered if Jon...

Jon let go of Arya and grabbed Jon and threw him into Osha. The Free Woman was shocked at first, then smiled coy smile as she placed her hand on Jon. "Well, it looks like I've caught a wolf." Osha huskily said as she whispered in Jon's ear.

"I...I know nothing." He muttered out flustered. 

Rickon stuck his tongue out at Jon for taking Osha away from him and ran to his mother and dance with her. Catelyn grabbed her son's hands and the two danced along. She had been worried when she had first come back that Osha had stolen her place in her baby's heart, yet that was not the case. Osha was to Rickon what his sisters were. While she was still his mother and that was a bond that would never be broken.

Arya had broken apart from Robb and gave a dance to Edric Dayne, who while not her blue eyes Stag, was still someone very dear to her after her adventures in the Riverlands. So she let the blond knight whisk her away as she snarked at his flustered appearance as he held her close. 

"My king, I have saved my last dance for you." Dacey Mormont said as she came up behind Robb, surprising him.

Robb spun around to see Dacey and her sisters, all of whom had broken apart and started exploring the room. Lyanna had almost tackled Rickon, demanding a dance from him. Catelyn giggled and sent her son off with the little bear and went to the Greatjon to sit and talk.

The Young Wolf took the hand of Dacey Mormont and the two glided across the floor. They didn't say words. They never had to, yet tonight Robb wanted her to know one thing.

Robb stopped in the middle of the hall and everyone looked at their king who had suddenly halted his movements. "Forgive me." Robb said with an apologetic smile.

Dacey raised her eyebrow ready to ask what he meant until Robb kissed her on the lips in front of everyone. Her eyes widened, but after fighting the initial surprise, she melted into the kiss.

The two loved each other, and whoever hadn't known it, they knew it now.

The Direwolves were feasting in their own corner of the room, barking and howling with joy as they bit and tackled each other. A

As the feast continued to go along, all of the Direwolve's heads popped up and the doors to the hall were thrown open. All eyes turned to the door. The Howland siblings Meera Reed and Jojen Rand stood in garbs that had looked like they were made like Wildlings clothing.

The Direwolves all stood up and started to howl, even Ghost, the normally silent wolf. 

Everyone in the hall looked on in confusion into a distant howl was heard from outside the room. 

It was then the Direwolf Summer walked into the room and placed himself next to the Reed siblings.

Catelyn Stark stumbled closer to the Direwolf, eyes watering. 

Everything was quiet as soft footsteps and the sound of a cane hitting the floor echoed in the air. The people of the room listened to the footsteps until the owner of them walked into the room and everyone's heart skipped a beat at the stranger who strolled into the room, supporting himself with a cane, hair long and wild, and a peaceful look on his face.

Bran Stark, the self-proclaimed Broken Wolf, stood, actually stood on his own two feet in front of the room that was filled with family, friends, and loved ones, and smiling proudly.

"I'm home." Bran whispered as tears gently rolled down his face as he looked at his family.

The Starks starred at Bran for a moment, then, regaining their senes raised at Bran and embraced the young prince.

And with that the last wolf had returned to the pack.

The had played the Game of Thrones, Clashed with the Kings, survived the Storm of Swords, stumbled through the feast of crows, and endured through the winds of winter. Now it was a time A time for Wolves.

When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives

The End.