Queen of Fire, King of Ice

[moffnat]

Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, red

"At the ready!" came the commanding shouts of Queen Daenerys, ringing over the chaos of the battle to come. Drogon circled above Winterfell while Rhaegal and Viserion stayed by their mother, menacing beasts at the hind of her forces. The Bolton men were strong and diligent when it came to their loyalty, ferocious in their nature and merciless in their methods. Dany had heard of the sigil of the flayed man and what it meant to those who still held such old-fashioned, disgusting traditions. It was time House Bolton was eradicated. Daenerys proudly shoved her fist toward the sun and gave a cry in Valyrian, a word that meant "slaughter" and "sacrifice" all in one that no other phrase in the Common Tongue could express. The Unsullied had chosen to take this battle in their hands, leaving the Second Sons to aid Robb with the capture of Winterfell and the security of the remaining gates.

The banners of Bolton burst into flames.

Rhaegal and Viserion were attentive in listening to their mother--they lit aflame no tree in the wolfswood or the ancient Godswood of Winterfell, nor did they seek to melt the castle to the ground. Their focus was primarily on the Bolton armies which diminished in less than an hour, so hopeless was their cause, so few were their numbers in comparison to the Queen Across the Sea. Daenerys stepped forward through hers and Robb's collective victory after the main streams of battle were done, through the broken gates in the king's castle and towards the inner courtyard.

Instantly, she felt her heart shatter.

"Ruins," she muttered under her breath, eyeing the splintered shops and torn memories of a city that once was. "This is ruins. Winterfell, it's..."

"Demolished," Ser Jorah added. "I never thought--I never dreamed..."

"This is Lannister work, I'm sure of it." Ser Barristan wore a grim frown as he looked upon the fractured space of what was once the greatest hold in the North. "Boltons might be the direct cause, but Roose had orders. I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if Tywin Lannister was at the head of this monstrosity, Your Grace."

"Nor would I." Daenerys lightly kicked a small piece of castle rubble with the tip of her boot. "My people have their work cut out for them, that much is clear, but I'm confident they will see it done. Ser Jorah," she stated, turning to the Bear Knight, "find any and all soldiers you can that remember the original layouts of Winterfell, the parts that are destroyed. Take notes on all they say. Gather them and provide them to Hizdahr zo Loraq. Tell him to illustrate the plans and write them in Ghiscari, to be handed out to all the head architects in the caravan. I will gather the same information from King Robb sometime during the night and provide those myself, I want every stone to be the way that it was before the massacre."

"Yes, Your Grace."

"Ser Barristan," Dany called as Jorah left her presence. "Take five-hundred men from either side and patrol the perimeters. Set up a watch and keep us informed if the Boltons come with any reinforcements."

"Of course." The elderly man hesitated before taking his leave. "Where will you go, my queen?"

"The Godswood." Daenerys turned a somber glance towards the blood pink shades on distant leaves peaking over the tops of the nearest towers. "I have a feeling he will be there."

 

[domino]

King Robb of House Stark, grey

The Seven had not protected his mother, wife, and unborn child. The Old Gods had not protected Winterfell.

And yet... the Godswood held a comfort to it, and Robb found peaceful solitude within. It was a strange thing, to have seen his home in ruins, yet to sit calmly in the Godswood. He seated himself beneath the weirwood heart tree, upon the same rock he'd seen his father sit so many times before, and cleaned his sword of the blood of Bolton bannermen. Before settling, he had wiped his hands and face with water from the pond - though a more thorough scrubbing would be needed later. Grey Wind laid next to the pond, jowls and front paws still tinted red.

Despite Winterfell's state, the king was happy to be home, no matter how short the stay. He should have felt grief for broken stone, splintered wood, and lives lost within the walls of Winterfell. Instead, he found contentment in a crushing victory over Roose Bolton and the knowledge that the man was running home with his tail between his legs. The greatest castle of the North was back in the rightful hands of the Stark name.

He did not worry that Bolton might have time to bolster the Dreadfort, or that Tywin Lannister might have time to send reinforcements to his lackey. Certainly by now Tywin heard of his and Daenerys' growing forces, and was in the process of pulling his forces back to King's Landing for his own protection. No Lannister forces would come this far North, not when the Lord of House Lannister needed his own men to protect himself when the sights of dragons and a direwolf turned southward.

The king's squire waited patiently beyond the trees of the Godswood, under strict orders to allow no one but the queen past him. Robb had given his men their orders and desired a quiet moment to himself. Not even the queen's commanders would have been allowed past, but when the silver queen approached, the young man merely bowed his head respectfully and let her pass. "Your Grace."

The Godswood was nearly silent, despite all the brutality that had gone on around it. Robb didn't need to think beyond the trees while he sat under the heart tree. He had a single task laid before him, and it was simply to clean his blade in the company of his ever faithful direwolf companion. In the silence, he heard footsteps draw near and was glad to see his squire had followed direction when he looked up to see Daenerys approaching.

Briefly, the thought crossed his mind that she sought him out in the same way his mother would seek out his father in the place he sat now. His mother had always held to the claim that the only place she felt like a stranger in her own home was here in the Godswood.

"Come," he requested of the queen, moving to the side so that she could share the space of the rock with him. "Sit with me a moment."

 

[moffnat]

Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, red

The great Heart Tree at the center of the Godswood was unlike anything Daenerys Targaryen had ever seen. The pale trunk was wider than Drogon's neck and the face engraved on it stood ten times more pleasant. Gentle leaves the color of a grapefruit's flesh whistled in the soft breezes that rolled through the North, and the silver queen clutched the warmth of her fur cloak closer about her shoulders. Leaves crunched under her boots with each step, and Daenerys couldn't help but smile at the sight of the king gentle cleaning his sword under the protection of his gods. The Targaryen stood with the sun glittering off her golden gown with the Harpy emblazoned on the breastplate, her hands folded before her, a soft grin on her face.

"This is strange to me," she said in admiration, craning her neck to look up to the sunlight peeking through the trees. "I've never seen this before, it's...magnificent, Robb. Truly." The queen lifted her skirts and sat in her typical regal way atop the bench adjacent to where the King in the North was perched.

"The Meereenese are moving into the city," she informed him with an air of joy about her. "I've asked Ser Jorah to collect information about the structure of Winterfell from your men. I thought, once you're finished with your sword, we could go over the details as well. I want everything to look the way it was. The Meereenese like to put their own little mark on things, but this is different and I want them to know that."

Dany eyed Grey Wind and chuckled at the stains on his snout. She clicked her tongue and held out her hand, and the beast stood obediently to come to her side and allow her to pet his head with affection.

"Is there something else you wanted to discuss, Robb?"

 

[domino]

King Robb of House Stark, grey

Dany's smile proved to be infectious, and one quickly found its way upon the king's features. It remained in place as she spoke of her people settling within Winterfell and the castle's subsequent rebuilding. He would be happy to provide all the information he had about his home - and even draw up the structures for her builders. Perhaps that was where his sense of peace came from, the knowledge that Winterfell would be renewed.

Robb found it hard to pull his gaze from the queen, who looked regal and beautiful as she ever did. Eventually, though, he looked back down and finished wiping down the blade of his sword. "Winterfell was built around this Godswood eight thousand years ago by Brandon the Builder," he informed the queen. "It has been the seat of the Stark name ever since. No matter how many times it has been sacked or burned, it still stands."

The king fell silent for a moment, wiping his blade one last time before sheathing it again. "We've both been on the road of battle and conquest for quite some time... I thought it would be nice to share a fleeting moment of peace. It is hard to say when we will get another chance at it."

He watched Grey Wind soak up the queen's affection, finding it an interesting thing. The direwolf was exceedingly protective and gentle with those of Stark blood - he had not even taken to Talisa as well as he had already taken to Daenerys. Robb knew his companion was an excellent judge of character, and was glad to see that the queen had gotten the direwolf's approval.

 

[moffnat]

Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, red

He's such a curious thing, she thought with great affection, petting the animal behind the ear. Much like Robb. Much like me.

Daenerys drank in the direwolf's attention and appreciated every nudge he gave, every little kiss of affection from a bloodthirsty beast. Grey Wind reminded the queen very much of her dragons, dangerous and tumultuous with no lack of a hot temper. She supposed that was what attracted her to the wolf, in a sense. Familiarity. When the direwolf left her company in preference of his master's, Daenerys rose from the obsidian bench and stood face-to-face with the carved expression on the Heart Tree's great hueless trunk. She had half a heart to touch it and see if the face would flinch or smile back, but the notion must surely be disrespectful and she turned the thought away. Daenerys faced Robb where he sat with another kind and gentle smile.

"A moment's peace," she agreed. "Sounds appropriate. It'll be another long and grueling march to the Wall, no doubt." The queen offered her hand to the seated king and moved her fingers towards her in a 'come hither' like motion, summoning him to his feet.

"Walk with me?" she asked in a soft tone. "Come out of this cold, you can pray here later when our people are settled and night has fallen. I need the grand tour of my sister kingdom's capital, and who better to provide assistance than her king?"

 

[domino]

King Robb of House Stark, grey

"The cold? I hardly noticed," Robb replied in a teasing tone with a grin. He stood from his perch and walked over to Daenerys, offering the silver queen his arm. When she linked her arm with his, the king took the lead and walked them back out of the Godswood - which was the only place untouched by the sacking and burning. Even the Boltons knew better than to do something as foolish as offend the gods.

The king took Daenerys throughout Winterfell, wherever it was safe for them to walk. More than once they had to step over debris, but despite its state Robb still spoke fondly of his home. Along with the escort, Robb gave Daenerys many stories - both the history of his home and his own tales from within the walls. He told her of the Kings in the North before him and then the Wardens of the North that followed, after his House bent to Aegon the Conqueror. There were many stories of the Stark's honorable actions he offered, and towards the end he gave a glimpse into his life before the war began: he spoke of growing up his with the honorable and noble care of his parents, bickering sisters, teaching young Bran to hold a bow and finding Arya better at it, discovering direwolf pups, and hosting the late King Robert Baratheon and his horrid family.

Winterfell was a massive castle that took them a fair amount of time to walk through, especially when they stopped to talk about so many places within its walls. It would look much different after the Meereenese were able to start rebuilding, and the silver queen would have to visit after the work was done so she could see the capital of the North in all its glory. The king would draw up some diagrams and write instructions for her builders that night before resting, so that the architects would have good references to start with when they were ready. He also had messages to be delivered to other holds in the North, asking supplies be sent to Winterfell for those that would stay behind to work and protect it.

"I hope I have not bored you," Robb told Daenerys, realizing how much he'd been talking since they first left the Godswood. He had lost track of his mouth and it had run off well ahead of him. The Mother of Dragons was incredibly easy to talk to, despite her reputation. Her company was quite pleasant as well. He only hoped that she found some entertainment in his tales.

 

[moffnat]

Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, red

Daenerys was as good a listener as any, providing Robb with her pure and undivided attention with each word that left his graceful mouth. She took his arm delicately as he led her across courtyards of stone and rubble, through what remained of the Great Keep and through each important king and warden in the Stark family history. They stopped to admire tapestries that hadn't been burned, relics of the Northern past as well as his own personal one, and an altogether panoramic view of what life in the North had always meant to a man or woman of the Stark line. There was great pride in him, she could feel it in the way his muscles tensed and the strength in his unwavering voice.

He is proud of what he is, she thought in gentle admiration. There is no doubt in my heart that he will remain just as proud for the rest of his life.

"Bored me?" Daenerys chuckled, keeping her pace with the king. "On the contrary, Your Grace. You've taught me quite a bit. My brother chose to teach me mostly about my own House and the histories in our reign rather than the tales and trials of other Houses, and while I see the sense in that, I see that it was quite foolish as well. A queen must know about all her people and her neighbors. Viserys was an idiot not to teach me more of the Northern history and traditions, but I suppose that makes me doubly thankful to you."

I am thankful to you on so many levels, now.

The queen let her arm slip out of his and she stepped gracefully in front of him, holding out a quill and parchment from her fragile hands. "Here," she stated, "for your descriptions of returning Winterfell to it's glory. When you're finished, either hand them to me personally or Ser Jorah and we will see them translated and provided to the Meereenese." Daenerys returned her hands to her side once the king had taken her gift.

"Now, forgive me, but I think the both of us could use a long both and a nice meal before sleeping in featherbeds underneath a safe roof, am I correct?" Her smile was bright and genuine. "I will see you in the morning, Robb, and from there we will plan our next move."

 

[domino]

King Robb of House Stark, grey

Robb bid the silver queen a good night before they parted ways. The King in the North returned to the godswood for a time, taking in all the comfort of familiarity that the ancient wood had to offer. He wondered if Bran or Rickon had taken solace beneath the Heart Tree after he left. Neither of them seemed particularly drawn to the godswood, so perhaps they hadn't. If they had, he hoped that they found the same comfort he now found.

Eventually, Robb retired for the night. As Daenerys had suggested, he had a warm bath drawn, but did not linger very long to enjoy it. The man scrubbed himself clean of the grime of battle and was done with it. However, he was not prepared for sleep. By the light of a few candles, Robb was up late into the night writing instructions and drawing references for Winterfell. Though he'd been gone from his home a long time, he remembered it as if he'd never been gone at all. His descriptions were intricate, leaving no detail to question, and his illustrations needed no imagination to see what was needed.

By the time he was done, there were only a few hours left before dawn. Though a feather bed was a welcome change, it could not hold the king's restless soul for long. Being in Winterfell's ruins made him feel the need to do something. It did not matter what he was doing, so long as it would eventually lead to their benefit. How could he just sit idly by, when there was a war to fight and a castle to rebuild? There was a drive to keep moving, keep going forward - even if it meant little to no rest.

So, Robb was up with the very first glimpses of dawn. He prepared for the day on his own, since his squire hadn't even made it up yet, and found his way out to the encampment that surrounded Winterfell. Soldiers were just beginning to stir when the king found himself among them. He made a habit of spending time amongst the men who fought for him. It was the least that he could do, seeing as they were so willing to lay their lives on the line for him. The king would not do them the disservice of hiding behind their lines in battle, nor would he see himself in plush comfort when they were not afforded such a luxury.

Roose Bolton had not returned after fleeing the castle, and scouts had not caught sight of any returning forces. The king found his first assumption of the man's intentions to be more likely - that Bolton was reinforcing the Dreadfort and waiting for them to come to him. Facing down such a force as he and Daenerys had, and the men they expected to add from the Wall, some of Bolton's men might come back to their good senses and throw down their swords. If not, they would fall just as their lord would. Robb would strip the Bolton name of title and holdings, and place another, more worthy family at the Dreadfort.

The sun had climbed well above the horizon by the time the king returned to the confines of Winterfell's walls. The Bear Knight was the first of Daenerys' entourage that he saw. "Ser Jorah," he greeted the man as he approached. "I have the instructions and plans necessary to begin the rebuilding of Winterfell." Robb reached inside his cloak and pulled the several pieces of rolled parchment out. They were absolutely full of his neat script and drawings, but he'd wanted to make sure that the architects and builders had everything that they needed.

 

[moffnat]

Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, red

As always, Daenerys Targaryen rose with the sun. With a great ball of fire hanging at an incomprehensible distance over her silver head, every instinct within her woke and prepared for another day of grueling questions, another day of conquest and unfortunate uncertainty. Her dreams had not been pleasant and her night's sleep even less so, resting within splintered walls of a Great Keep that once was strong. Knowing the history made it haunt her all the more. The ghosts of Stark kings and queens crept into her sleep-filled thoughts and made for a restless, undesirable night. Daenerys was almost thankful for the risen sun when she woke to see it peeking through the tapestry.

"Your Grace?" came the soft voice of Missandei from behind a paper screen. "I laid out breakfast for you. Shall I draw a bath?"

"Mmm. Yes, please." Dany gave a great stretch and a yawn, slipping from the sheets and padding gracefully across the room. When the bath of scalding hot water was prepared, the young queen lowered herself into the heated embrace and sighed of deep relief. "Thank you, Missandei. I needed this."

"You're welcome, Your Grace."

"Before you go," Dany stated, lifting her head to look upon her handmaiden. "I have a question for you. What do you think of the King in the North?"

To her great surprise, Missandei blushed. "I think he is just and kind, Your Grace. I see the way he talks with his people. Very much like you."

"You think he's handsome, too?" The queen laughed, "don't worry, there's no shame in that. Even I'll admit that he has a certain...quality about him." Though, it was clear that Daenerys thought more of him than that.

"I suppose, Your Grace," Missandei stammered out. "I have heard about his wife and mother, and his unborn child. It makes me admire him more that he remains at his status through all of those horrid things." She bit her lip. "Again, like you."

"Yes," Dany agreed. "We certainly have a lot in common." She picked up the sponge and looked at it in sad contemplation a moment before scrubbing fresh soap along her skin. "Will you fetch him for me, Missandei? Not now, of course. Once I've finished this bath. The sooner we get to planning our march on The Wall, the sooner it will happen." The ghosts of Winterfell give me no rest.

"Of course, Your Grace." Missandei took a deep bow and returned to her work along the table. "I will bring another setting for the king as well."

"Good," Dany said, "and bring something Meereenese or Dothraki here too. He showed me Northern dishes, I can show him a few of mine."

It was slowly becoming less about courtesy and impressions, and more about seeing him smile.

 

[domino]

King Robb of House Stark, grey

After seeing the plans and instructions he'd drawn up to the proper hands, Robb found other tasks to keep himself busy. He tasked some of his scouts with traveling ahead, to see if anything waited for them on the road to the Wall, and to find the status of the Dreadfort and Bolton's forces. The king wanted to make sure that there would be no unpleasant surprises when they started their march again, and that they would not leave Winterfell only for Bolton to return in order to recapture the castle. They may have been leaving a pocket of soldiers at the castle for its protection, but if they were to face the traitor again, they would do better with the full strength of the forces they had.

Honestly, Robb doubted threats from either direction. If Stannis knew they were coming, he would remain at the Wall. It would be the safest place for him and his men, and one of the few places he could dig in to try and outlast the army that marched for him. Word was quickly spreading through the North that their king was riding alongside the Mother of Dragons and freeing the land from Bolton and Greyjoy forces as they went. The support of the people was returning to the Stark name, and Stannis Baratheon would find no allies beyond Castle Black. The Night's Watch could even try to throw him out, since a battle there would only hinder them from protecting the Wall.

It was during his considerations toward their future over the coming days that Missandei found him and extended an offer to share breakfast with the silver queen. He graciously accepted the offer - though he'd briefly entertained the thought of skipping breakfast - and followed the woman to Danaerys' chamber. It seemed to be turning into a habit, the two sharing meals together, a habit that he didn't mind in the least. More and more often one invited the other to enjoy food with them, and the king was glad for the comfort that the queen's presence allowed.

There was a smile upon the king's features even before the door was opened for him and he stepped inside. "Good morning, Your Grace," he greeted the silver queen. "How did your first night in Winterfell find you?"

 

[moffnat]

Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, red

"Rather disturbed, if we're being honest." Daenerys greeted Winterfell's king with a sad smile, crossing the room in grace to sit at the center table by the fire. She gestured casually to the chair across from her. "Winterfell is beautiful. It made me restless and displeased to see it in ruins. I should very much like a better tour when the city has returned to what it was, whenever that may be."

The dragon queen sat straight in her seat and reached across dark mahogany, retrieving a massive cloth map of Westeros and rolling it out across the surface. She placed the tokens of various houses across the Northern region; the direwolf, the dragon, the flayed man and the flaming heart were the most dominant and necessary to keep in mind. She sat back in her seat and draped the fur blanket closer about her shoulders, letting the fire crackle a few more moments. Then, she spoke.

"Your brother," Dany stated, "do you think he would abandon the Night's Watch and join us? He could be your heir until you've settled again. He would be a valuable asset. There's also the question of what we intend to do with Stannis--personally, I would like to see if he would come to my side. For a man so keen on honoring birthrights he should have no protest in proclaiming me as queen. The priestess he carries around with him won't be coming along, though. I've had enough demon magic for one lifetime."

Daenerys picked up the little painted figurine of a flaming heart and a stag's head, pondering it as if it held the answers to all her plaguing questions. It would benefit her to have Lord Stannis on her side, that much was clear. She could win over his armies without any bloodshed and have another experienced battle commander on her council. However, surely he had become drunk on the powers of a king and might not give up his claim so easily. She hoped that the Night's Watch would not get involved in the crossfire--the Wall might be seven-hundred feet high, but she had three dragons and much more determination than her enemies. Stannis's forces would belong to her, with or without the lord's consent.

"I'm wondering whether or not we should march on the Dreadfort first, or wait until after we recover your brother. He could oversee things in Winterfell and make a new Lord of the Dreadfort while we're away at war. I suppose the choice is up to you."

 

[domino]

King Robb of House Stark, grey

Robb walked over to the table and sat across from Daenerys as she spoke. He could understand the silver queen's restlessness in the broken castle - he'd felt it as well. That was what saw him up into the wee hours of the night, and up again before the sun. It was regretful that she was unable to find a peaceful night's rest within Winterfell's strong walls - if one of them was to get a decent night's sleep, he would wish it for her. There was nothing to be done about it now, though. All they could do was push forward.

The King in the North listened to what Daenerys had to say, taking a few moments to think before offering up his own thoughts. His blue gaze was fixed on the war tokens upon the map as he took their situation into careful consideration. Truthfully, he'd planned on asking Jon to leave the Night's Watch. He knew his brother would take the oath of the Watch much more seriously than most others, but many things had changed since the oath had been taken. Their family was scattered and broken, their home in ruins, and a war raged on. With the promise of legitimacy as a Stark and a pardon for leaving the Watch, he hoped to convince Jon the Wall was not a place for him.

"I will speak with Jon - privately," Robb finally spoke. "If he was to agree to leave the Watch, I believe it would be in the confidence of a private conversation. As for Stannis... I will leave the decision of what to do with him, to you. While he may currently be in the North, he resides in the South and therefore he falls under your rule." Were it up to him, the king would see both Stannis and that damned Red Woman to the sword. He'd heard all manner of horror stories involving them both - shadow demons, burning people alive, burning Heart Trees and images of the Seven alike, kinslaying... None of that would stand with him. However, as he'd said, Stannis was part of the South and therefore his fate was Daenerys' to decide.

"I think our first priority should be the Wall. There's still the chance we may catch Stannis off guard, if he is too occupied with Wildlings and such beyond the Wall. The Dreadfort will remain in place, regardless if we march on it or the Wall first. However, the same cannot be said for Stannis and his army. We may give Bolton time to reinforce the Dreadfort, but such a host as we have now - and even larger if we take Stannis' beforehand - Bolton will not hold the castle long. I expect after today's defeat and seeing us bearing down upon them, some of the men may choose surrender, rather than fighting for a lost cause."

 

[moffnat]

Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, red

Robb's search for justice in all things was no secret across the vast lands of Westeros, which caused Daenerys to sit shocked when Robb stated that he would leave Stannis's fate to her. It was not a response she had been expecting and was pleasantly surprised that he trusted her with such a weight, and the more she thought about it, the more she realized that she should have expected nothing less. The South was her responsibility and it was only natural that the King in the North should leave all things in it's regard to the queen.

That didn't stop her from cracking a little smile.

The grin faded quickly however, as the rest of his plans fell from his lips and spilled over the map of war, and Daenerys mentally moved the pieces and deduced the solutions. "That leaves us with a problem," she said finally. "If Roose Bolton is south of us, he can escape. Winterfell would not withstand an attack from all of the Dreadfort's might, which he might be foolish enough to throw at us. I'm sure he knows we intend to go to the Wall. Either he will go there to warn Stannis of our arrival or send a bird. Either way, word has undoubtedly reached Stannis and your brother..." Daenerys lifted a hand to scratch her chin in thought. "If Roose goes to the Wall, however, I'm sure he would be met with death. Stannis does not take kindly to those who murder and House Bolton is guilty of much. But if he travels South he could rejoin with the Lannisters. That would pose a problem as well. I think Stannis should be our priority, but do we have a choice? If we go to the Wall immediately we run the risk of Lord Bolton tucking tail and running South to Tywin." Her violet eyes flickered up to meet his. "Do we want to risk that?"

A part of her wouldn't mind. Tywin's host was great and would be even greater with the Bolton host at his side, but with the poison drawn from the North Robb was twice as likely to reconquer his kingdom and ignite the flame of one final rebellion that would free his people almost indefinitely. A roused and united North would help her take the South, and no doubt some Southerners would come North to support their rightful Queen.

However, the North was Robb's. Just as he had given her the final say in the South, she would give him the final say in the North.

 

[domino]

King Robb of House Stark, grey

"I would not be so sure of what Stannis does and does not take kindly to," Robb commented. "Especially with the Red Woman at his side and the Iron Throne on his mind."

No matter his personal distaste, the king would honor his word to leave the fate of Stannis Baratheon to Daenerys. The Lord of Dragonstone - for what little time he had left bearing the title - fell under the queen's rule and Robb would not go beyond his own authority. He trusted that Daenerys would make the correct decision, and respect that whatever she decided to do was right.

That still left them with a problem, though. "Let Bolton run South. Let his men see him for the coward that he is," he stated, feeling the rise of fiery vengeance start to well up. "He can't have more than a few thousand men left after those we killed here in Winterfell and in the days on our march. The Bolton name doesn't inspire the same weight of loyalty that the Stark name does. His men will only desire to remain in their homes, next to their fires, and prepare for winter, rather than march South to save Roose Bolton's hide."

After a moment of contemplation, Robb leaned forward and picked up a Flayed Man token and moved it to King's Landing, but kept it distinctly separate from the many lion heads there. "I doubt Tywin would receive Bolton well. It's no secret that Tywin does not tolerate those who fail him... and Bolton has done plenty of that. He didn't kill me, didn't keep Winterfell, didn't hold the North." It was a small list, but the Lord of House Lannister would not take it as a light matter. In fact, Roose Bolton might get a welcome with swords if he traveled South to hide behind his master.

The King in the North chuckled before speaking again. "Roose Bolton could very well have lost this war for Tywin, because he didn't manage to kill me at The Twins. I'm sure Tywin would realize that as well. I don't doubt he'd kill the man that cost him the war." That would take vengeance out of his own hands, but he could live with Bolton being killed by the very man he turned traitor for. Thanks to Roose Bolton, Robb had a very powerful ally and together, he and Daenerys had the best chance at overrunning Tywin Lannister.

 

[moffnat]

Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, red

Daenerys considered him a moment before speaking. "That's a sound conclusion, and is entirely possible, but I think that with the knowledge of my three dragons Tywin Lannister will take all the men he can get. Lord Bolton is also a great battle commander, so I've heard it told, and he knows you. He knows how you fight, your tactics. While it's true that he didn't complete the task I think Lord Tywin would rather retake a failure than risk losing the war without him."

It brought her joy to know that Tywin would have to recycle broken bridges just to try to stop her fire-breathing children.

"As for Stannis, I suppose we'll have to see when we reach the Wall. I plan on offering him Storm's End once more if he turns his men over to my command and denounces the Red Woman from his side. And swears fealty, of course. He took Dragonstone from my family but he has proven great in battle, and he loves his country. I think he could be reasoned with should the adrenaline of potential power be removed from his mind."

Daenerys broke her gaze with the war table then, looking up at the king with the smallest hint of a smile. "I think our plan is settled, then--heading for the Wall at morning's light. As much as I'm sure you would love to stay and oversee the reconstruction of Winterfell, there are more pressing matters that need attention to." She stood in grace and reached forward a gentle hand to place on Robb's shoulder, her thumb rubbing in a maternal manner along the tunic.

His shoulders are strong, she thought, I can feel it through his clothes.

"Everything will work out the way it's supposed to. We'll make it to the Wall and deal with whatever comes upon us, and then move on, and all will be well." The silver queen removed her hand from him reluctantly, returning it to her own side as if nothing had happened.

"See to your men. We leave at dawn."

 

[domino]

King Robb of House Stark, grey

With a plan laid out before them, there was nothing left to do but prepare, then follow through with it. Though there was little left inside the ruins of Winterfell, it was scoured for anything that would be of use - particularly clothing suitable for the cold. Despite Winterfell's position deep in the North, the Wall would be even harsher than the seat of House Stark. The Northmen were prepared for the cold, but each of them knew that Daenerys' men would not be ready for it. They gathered what they could find, and took what they could from those fallen on the battlefield.

With the first light of dawn, Robb set his back to Winterfell and alongside Daenerys, led their host further North. Though the Kingsroad would leave them vulnerable to attack, it was the best and most direct route to the Wall. Certainly there was no force equal to theirs in the North, and only those beneath the Flayed Man sigil were willing to stand against their true liege lord. The Kingsroad allowed them to move faster, which served them now and would serve them later on as well. The sooner they got to the Wall and back, the sooner they could deal with Lord Bolton if he had not tucked his tail between his legs and run South. They could also move South sooner as well.

As they continued their trek, the joint host found little resistance. So far North, there wasn't much gain to be had by other Houses. The only castle remaining between them and the wall was Last Hearth. Though it would take a couple of days out of their journey, they left the Kingsroad for the last castle in the North before the wall. Hother Umber had mixed feelings about welcoming them, but ultimately got over the loss of his nephew and many of the Umber's forces at the Red Wedding. He'd grudgingly and half-heartedly agreed to back Roose Bolton, but didn't actively lend his support. It was easy enough to throw his support behind the King in the North, seeing him alive and well - and with the Queen Across the Sea, no less. Hother gave them most of what was left of Last Hearth's guard, and told them Mors had taken a few boys to the Wall to aid Stannis.

After garnering that last bit of support, all attention was set to the Wall. It was hard to say what they would find when they got there - if Stannis would have dug in and reinforced Castle Black, or if his arrogance fueled by the Red Woman would see open gates and a demand that they bend the knee to him. Bitter cold had long set in, and was accompanied by bouts of snow during their last leg of the long march. For the sake of Daenerys and her men, Robb hoped that their time at the Wall would be short. Such a harsh place was bound to be hard on all of those not used to the cold climate of the North.

The Wall crested the horizon long before Mole's Town or Castle Black. Though there were many tales about the massive size of the Wall, none of them seemed to do it justice - stretching from one side of the horizon to the other, and well beyond. It became abundantly obvious that no words could ever do the construct justice. It was a sight to behold, but they had serious business to take care of.

When the little village half a league from Castle Black came into view, banners bearing the flaming heart and stag became visible as well. From their position, it was hard to say if there was a garrison in the village - and if there was, how many soldiers waited. There were no lines of men ready with sword in hand, yet. There was no cover to send out scouts, nor would it do any good as it would now be quite obvious to their opposition that they were coming.

"Perhaps it would be wise to see just what waits for us, before pressing forth with our full might," Robb said, turning to Daenerys who rode beside him. "I would not see you directly in harm's way if it can be avoided. I can take a small force ahead - enough to withstand attack, should Stannis make an offensive move - and find what state Castle Black is in."

 

[moffnat]

Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, red

This is why the South fears winter so.

Daenerys rode forward bundled up atop her horse, huddled closely in armor and a thick cloak that barely sheltered her from the worst of the icy might. Everywhere she looked, the earth was smothered in a hueless blanket and alabaster lust that was hauntingly attractive and mystical in an indescribable way. It was beautiful indeed, and utterly terrifying. When Robb spoke to her about their next course of action, it took a moment to register his voice with how focused she was on trying not to shiver out of her skin. It seems that this wonderland has a price.

"I a-appreciate the gesture," she stuttered, "but there's no doubt that they've already s-seen my dragons. The know I'm here. We're here."

Dany craned her neck toward the sky and watched Viserion encircle the sun, glittering gold on his scales, and off in the distance Rhaegal was flapping his emerald wings to the beat of his heart. Drogon hadn't been seen in a few days, most likely hunting or finding something to occupy his time that Daeneyrs could only hope didn't involve the destruction of some poor village, much akin to the one that lay before her. Mole's Town looked empty save for the flaming heart banners of "King" Stannis, and she could see the soldiers beginning to form together and prepare for an attack as if the town left something to protect.

"Pity their sigil is a heart on fire," she chuckled, shivering. "Ill-fitting, I think. W-We should go explain that we come on terms of peace. I don't want bloodshed here." The silver queen looked over to her Northern companion, who didn't look the least bit disturbed by the subfreezing temperatures and the iced surroundings. He would have melted in Meereen. A part of her wanted to see him in a tokar and the Great Pyramid, under the sight of the Harpy. "Come with me?" she asked. "It is more fitting that they see the both of us. Ser Jorah and Ser Barristan will accompany me, you may choose two of your own men as well. Not too many. I don't want them thinking we come for a fight." Dany gripped the fur cloak tighter about her slender shoulders and gave orders to Grey Worm and Daario Naharis, while the two men she'd asked company from came immediately to their queen's trembling side.

"I don't expect Lord Stannis will receive you well, Your Grace," Ser Jorah said with concern. "Nor his combatant king."

"That is his choice." She shrugged. "He can follow me and throw his allegiance at my feet, or he can answer for his crimes."

"Will he hold his word, should he choose to join?"

Ser Barristan gave a little laugh. "This is Stannis Baratheon," he stated simply. "He would follow a rock to it's demise and keep it's promises should he live to tell the tale."

"I hope you're right." Daenerys looked up once more to the shining sun, feeling no heat radiating from its shimmering glow, and pressed onward.

 

[domino]

King Robb of House Stark, grey

"I will go with you," Robb easily agreed with a nod. There was only one he chose to be at his side - and it wasn't even a person. Grey Wind wouldn't remain behind even if the king told him to stay. They were coming upon people who could pose a threat, and the wolf would not be from his master's side.

As the small group moved forward, the lines of men opposing them took formation, but a few stood ahead of them to act as envoy. "Halt, in the name of Stannis Baratheon, King of the Andals and the First Men, and Protector of the Realm. State your names and business here," the man who seemed to be in charge of the group demanded.

Robb raised a brow and glanced over at the queen before deciding to take it upon himself to answer. "I am Robb Stark, King in the North, and I travel with Queen Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen - if you could not ascertain as much by our banners. Step aside and let us pass, we will take our business to Lord Stannis ourselves."

"None shall pass," the man stated, holding himself slightly taller in hopes that it gave him more authority. "Especially a pretender king and queen who would oppose the one true king of Westeros."

Robb took the insult in stride, actually seeming a bit amused by the situation. "One way or another, we will make it past your lines. I suppose it would be hard for you to notice our own lines of men, twelve thousand could be easy to miss," he said, casting a look over his shoulder at his and Daenerys' joint force. At least he had the courtesy to veil his own insult behind smart, biting remarks. The king looked back to the men before them before speaking again. "All reports say that Lord Stannis has barely four thousand men at his command, perhaps a few hundred more if he managed to get the sellswords he was looking for. That still leaves him greatly outnumbered. I have beaten Lannister forces when I was the one who was outnumbered, do you think I would do worse with more men? And do you truly believe your Lord would desire open battle so close to the Wall? If he really wants to march South, he won't be able to do that if he loses all his men here, now."

The man seemed to be at a loss, unable to decide what he should do. He obviously understood the point that Robb made, but he also had his orders to follow. Then again, the king and queen before him did outnumber them three to one, but Stannis was unlikely to care. In his indecisiveness, the two men that stood at his side leaned toward him in turn to offer quiet words of advice. There was a great deal riding on what they decided to do here, even though the decision was already made for them. As Robb had said, the joint forces of Stark and Targaryen could get past Mole's Town one way or another.

"We will allow you passage to Castle Black, where King Stannis currently waits," the man finally announced. "Only your small entourage here may proceed. All others must remain where they are."

"You expect us to continue forward without a proper guard or word from Stannis himself that we will come to no harm?" Robb questioned.

"If you desire to move forward without bloodshed here, then yes." As a show of good faith, the man turned and ordered the lines of men to part for the small group. Though he could keep the group of men under his command from attacking the group, he could not guarantee what would happen at the Wall. He also had the advantage of cutting them off from their host of soldiers, if they decided to move forward.

 

[moffnat]

Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen, red

"Ser Jorah," she stated quietly. "Return to the rest of the men and set up camp at the edge of the forest, ensure everything is alright. Tell them of our plans. Don't worry about my dragons--they will go where they please and will not bother you, but I fear you coming before Lord Stannis. He would finish what Ned Stark started and remove your head from your shoulders if he could, or at the very least he would take your presence as a personal offense."

The Bear Knight looked incredibly irritated at the thought of Stannis judging him for mistakes made in years past, but there was no denying the sense in the queen's words. "You'll send a raven when you've arrived safely at the Wall?"

"Of course," she chuckled. "I won't leave you in the dark. Go. You'll hear from me soon." Ser Jorah did as his monarch commanded, still rather hesitant, and trotted back to the thick lines of the combined Stark and Targaryen army.

"That was a wise choice," Ser Barristan said.

"It was," Dany agreed, "but one I did not want to make."

The travel to the Wall was relatively short, a few hours at most over treacherous paths and through deep rocky crevices. It was much more dangerous than she ever remembered Viserys's tellings of the Kingsroad, though like all things in the North perhaps it was simply a harsher version of the rest of Westeros. It seemed as each inch they progressed further North brought waves of iced wind that flooded over Dany's senses, and she pulled the fur cloak closer to her in attempt to shield from what her body was so foreign to.

Nothing prepared her for the sight ahead.

The queen had seen many things in her life, many terrifying and wonderful things, artistic and elegant and beautiful and horrific all in their own respects, but the Wall seemed to be a mixture of all those things and it nearly shocked her off her horse. Don't act surprised, she tried to think, Lord Stannis will surely use emotion to his advantage, and if not, his Red Priestess will pick up on the cue.

She noticed the shadows of two great dragons across the pale shelf of the seven-hundred foot Wall, and hoped Stannis trembled in her wake.

Lord Stannis of House Baratheon, yellow

Tremble, he did not.

The king, or false king some would surely say, stood at the frosted window of the King's Tower, wearing a king's crown, and yet he did not feel suited to the role anymore. His eyes watched the shadows of dragons in the sky and the Direwolf aside the King in the North, as well as the queen with hair as white as the snow, and regretted that he would soon meet them for a "discussion". All his years of fighting for his rightful crown and here, now, at the base of some Gods-forsaken spit of ice he would lose it to a dead legend and boy king. His lip curled and he turned to Melisandre, who stood gracefully at the end of the war table as if nothing were the matter.

"You lied to me."

"No," she replied coolly. "Never, my king."

"She has dragons!" The shout rang through the high ceilings, echoing his anger, and in an instant he crossed the room to lock his thick fingers around the priestess's throat and he relished in the sound of her soft struggle. "She is everything you said I was destined to be and I am nothing, your flames lied, you lied."

"I--I did not--" The woman struggled to breathe, and he squeezed harder.

"Quite right. You did not."

"The Lord of Light--gave me signs--"

"The Lord of Light betrayed me. I should have seen it long ago." Stannis released her and crossed the room back to the gloom of the window, eyes cast down on the king and queen once more, watching them dismount their horses and prepare for an audience with King Stannis. The last he would ever have built on the foundation of a lie. "I want you gone by--"

"If Daenerys was given to the flames," Melisandre choked out, "the dragons belong to you. The army is yours." The ruby around her neck glittered with the flashes of her plans. "Let me sacrifice her to our god and the final steps will be complete. Don't you see, my king?" With a grace trademarked to her, she moved to the king's side and placed a hand on his shoulder, massaging softly. "This is the Lord of Light's offering. We will have to move quickly to ensure the ritual, but before her army is alerted you will have all we have worked so hard for." Her eyes cast out to the silver queen. "She is our blessing."

"Our blessing," he repeated as if under a spell, and moments later came the knock at the door with the alert that the blessing had come seeking his audience.

 

[domino]

King Robb of House Stark, grey

On their approach to Castle Black, Robb found the shadows of Daenerys' dragons to be quite the comfort. They were walking themselves into what could turn out to be a horrific trap. Banners of Stannis Baratheon waved in the gusty, bitter winds outside the gates and men baring the flaming heart sigil on their armor manned the ramparts. It was good that Stannis aided the Night's Watch, but it left himself, Daenerys, and Ser Barristan quite alone in a sea of metaphorical flames.

At least the dragons were overhead and if worst came to worst, those two were on their side. Unfortunately, dragon's fire wouldn't be good for the Wall.

Inside the gates of Castle Black, Grey Wind gravitated closer to him, but also seemed to have a watchful eye on the queen as well. It was not something he pondered on for long, though, since there were much more pressing matters to tend to. Their horses were taken by a couple men of the Watch, who said they would tend the animals and see them ready to ride again by the time this meeting was done.

The direwolf at the king's side was on higher alert than usual. He seemed to be visually hunting for something among the soldiers and men of the Watch. The large beast scouted until his attention fell on the King's Tower, and it fixated there. Robb did not notice at first, but after a few moments he heard the low sound of Grey Wind growling. He reached over and laid his hand on the wolf's back, his hand confirming what his ear suggested - the beast was decidedly unhappy about someone.

When Stannis and the Red Woman finally appeared, Grey Wind's ears went back and the growling got stronger. Robb shared the sentiment of his companion, assuming the reaction was due mostly to the Red Woman. Just seeing her already put a bad taste in his mouth. "Easy," he coaxed the direwolf quietly. The growling subsided a bit, but the wolf maintained a rigid stance. The king would be happy to let his companion dispatch the wicked woman, but he'd given Daenerys his word to let her deal with the two.