Chapter 31: The Flayed Wolf

Jon had once thought that the sight of the mauled Direwolf mother was the most disgusting thing that he had ever seen, but seeing Daenerys force an entire horse's heart down without throwing up was now right at the top of the list. After the ceremony was complete and the prophecy made by the Dothraki Priestess, he had to excuse himself from the temple of the Dosh Khaleen. He didn't know how long it had been since he left the tent, but by the time he realised what time it was Jorah Mormont had left and come back again, grasping a letter in his hands.

"News, from the West." The Mormont knight explained.

"What news?" Daenerys asked. Jon immediately stood up and turned to her.

"Khaleesi." He bowed his head.

Dany smirked. "None of that, please Jon. To you, I will always be Dany." Jon nodded awkwardly but couldn't yet bring himself to be so formal with another man's wife. "What news?"

"Lannister and Baratheon are at war." Jorah explained. "Apparently the Usurper found out that the Lannister woman's children were not his, and he has gathered a vast host. They have already trapped Tywin Lannister's forces in the Westerlands by taking the Golden Tooth, along with House Tully and Stark."

"My family?" Jon asked quickly.

Jorah scrolled through the message again. "Lord Eddard and Torrhen are with the King in the West, Robb Stark was leading a host of men down to King's Landing." Jon breathed a sigh of relief. "This news will be old, Jon."

"But it is welcomed all the same." Dany insisted. "Already things are changing vastly out of hand across the Narrow Sea." She had told Jorah everything after he had proved his loyalty to her, and the Targaryen looked between her two most trusted men. "That is why things must go as similar as possible. We must hatch the eggs, and to do that we need to encourage the Khal to go to war."

"How can we do that?" Jon asked. "He seems content to sit until your babe is born."

Dany thought for a moment, before she turned to Jorah. "Keep an eye out for any messages from the Spider. He knows about Rhaego now and I'm sure he will have arranged some form of assassination. We thwart that in the process and blame the Usurper, and Drogo will have no choice."

She then smiled at the pair of them before returning into the temple, leaving the two Northmen staring at her as if she had gone mad.

In the few months on campaign Torrhen had gotten used to the stares from the Northmen and Rivermen as he and Balerion went about their business, although this time he felt the eyes of every single man in the camp around Lannisport.

"Has nobody here seen a dwarf before?" Tyrion Lannister exclaimed loudly. He was sat atop Torrhen's horse with the two Lannister children while the Stark walked alongside them leading his horse Obsidian towards the main tent, where he reckoned King Robert would be in a meeting with his commanders. He was fairly surprised to see Ser Perwyn Frey standing by the tent dressed in the golden Kingsguard armour and draped in a white cloak, but his attention was taken by Tommen staring at the steady bombardment of Lannisport.

"There are so many fires…" The boy whispered.

He was right, half a dozen plumes of smoke rose over the walls that Torrhen could see, and he knew that the loyalists were camped all the way around the walls and could imagine more would be seen in the coming days.

"That's what happens in sieges Tommen." Myrcella whispered back, hugging the boy tighter. They stopped before the tent when a Stark soldier came to take the reigns of Obsidian, and Torrhen helped the three prisoners down.

Ser Perwyn poked his head through the tent for a moment before returning and stating. "His Grace will see you now."

Torrhen led the way into the tent and saw a handful of the commanders standing around a now covered up map table. He saw his Father alongside Lord Umber and Ser Barristan, he saw Edmure Tully stood by a couple of Frey's and the Blackfish. He also saw a host of Reachmen, but only truly recognised Loras Tyrell. He bent the knee towards King Robert. "Your Grace."

"You should have been in this meeting, boy." Robert said coolly. "Where have you been?"

"I've never been in a siege before." Torrhen said. "I was bored, and Balerion wanted a hunt. I thought it fun to accompany him."

Robert grimaced. "A hunt." He said plainly, and Torrhen couldn't tell if it was admonishment or jealousy in his tone. "And what, pray tell, did you come back with."

Torrhen grinned. "Lions, Your Grace." He stepped aside as Balerion's growling forced the three prisoners inside.

Loras was the first to react, grinning from ear to ear. Ned just looked baffled, whilst Torrhen's uncle Edmure was bemused. The first noise though came from the King, who let out roaring laughter.

"Father…" Tommen whimpered, but that only served to make the King slam his fist on the table, making the wooden object shake under the force.

"I am not your Father, bastard." Robert growled menacingly.

Tyrion looked to interject. "He's a child, Your Grace… he doesn't understand."

That didn't help Robert's mood one bit, as he glowered down at the little man. "Then somebody should let the bastard know that his Mother is an incestuous whore and will die an extremely painful death once I get my hands on her."

"Robert." Ned said quietly, warning his friend. "He's only a boy."

"And an innocent one at that." Tyrion added. "Possibly the only innocent boy that claims descent from my Father."

"Not including yourself in that, Imp?" Loras smirked.

Tyrion shook his head, but his eyes looked angry. "Oh no, I've done many a thing that would shatter anyone's innocence, Lord Tyrell."

"How did you capture them?" Ser Barristan asked, eager to steer the conversation away from Tyrion Lannister's many misdemeanours.

Torrhen shrugged. "They were camping in the woods to the South. I stumbled across them."

"And why are you not inside the walls of Casterly Rock?" Ned asked Tyrion. "Surely you'd have been safer there."

"For a time." Tyrion nodded. "Although my Father seems hell bent on getting us all killed, and whilst I'm here partially to save my own head from being detached from my body, the children are innocent in all of this. I came to bargain for their lives."

"Not Joffrey's?" Ser Barristan asked.

Tyrion showed his dark glare then. "Joffrey is a monster. He can rot with the rest of them. I ask only one more favour."

Robert clenched his teeth. "You are in no position to bargain."

"Jaime." Tyrion said firmly, and a wave of muttering filled the tent. "Spare his life. Send him to the Wall or Essos or whatever, but please, Your Grace, spare him."

"You wish for me to spare the man that cuckolded me?" Robert was turning red at this point. "You have a funny way of asking to be executed, Lannister."

Tyrion glared right back. "My Father will die, my sister will die, my cousins will likely die too. I only ask that Jaime be spared, and I will forever be your loyal man and House Lannister will stay in the background of Westerosi politics for generations. I swear it."

Robert was about to explode in an angry tirade, but Ned got to him first, whispering in the King's ear. Torrhen was amazed at his Father's ability to calm the Baratheon King, but Robert began breathing heavily and turning a normal shade once more. "Ned… I'll look weak." He said unhappily.

"The bigger picture, Robert." Ned said quietly. "The Night's Watch could use a man like Jaime Lannister."

"Will he be loyal?" Lord Umber asked. "Pardon me for interrupting, Your Grace, but it's my lands closest to the Wall. I won't have no traitor go there only for my people to be the first in a long line of vengeful killings."

"I will make sure of it." Tyrion nodded. "Do what you like with me and the rest of them in Casterly Rock, but please, spare Jaime and these two."

"We would never harm children." Ned said quickly, before Robert even opened his mouth. "Although, understand our position, we cannot allow Tommen any freedom."

"Send him to Oldtown." Baelor Hightower suggested. "The Maesters have no family names. Tommen Waters can become Maester Tommen."

"And the girl?" The Blackfish asked, as though Myrcella wasn't standing there quietly holding her brother tightly.

"The Septa's." Ned suggested. "There's a motherhouse in Oldtown too, is there not?"

"There is." Baelor nodded.

Loras Tyrell wasn't convinced. "Is it wise keeping the two in the same city?"

Ned fixed the young Tyrell with a stern glare. "They are but children, Lord Tyrell, and by the sound of things the only friends they have are one another." He turned to Robert. "You cared for them both once, it would be cruel to separate them."

Robert nodded. "Aye, send them both to Oldtown. But under strict instructions that they fulfil their training and swear their vows of chastity. I will have no threat of further bastards hanging over my own heirs."

"A note?"

After the meeting Torrhen had handed the Lannister prisoners over to the King's own soldiers and snuck away to his tent for a lie down, although he had barely been there for 5 minutes before his Father had pushed his way through.

"I was bored." Torrhen shrugged.

"Sieges are boring, Torrhen." Ned chastised. "But you don't wander off in enemy territory just because you're bored!"

Torrhen swivelled so he was sat down on his cot and looked down at his feet. "I had Bal."

"Balerion is one Direwolf, Torrhen." Ned explained coldly. "A formidable beast for sure, but how many Direwolves survived you?"

It was a low blow, but Torrhen winced at the memory of Lady's body being brought back to Winterfell. "I was careful." He said, but it was half hearted.

"You should have taken somebody Torrhen. What if the Lannister's had a guard? What if they had captured you? Think before you act, please." Ned was on his knees now, his hands on Torrhen's own knees.

"I will, Father." Torrhen nodded. "I'm sorry."

Ned sighed before smiling quickly and ruffling Torrhen's growing hair. "Sometimes I look at you and I forget that you're actually older."

"I can't wait to be older." Torrhen smirked. "I miss my beard."

Ned barked out a laugh, standing up to his full height. "Don't wish away your childhood, you'll never get it back."

Torrhen grew silent, his eyes narrowing. "My childhood ended the day you were arrested."

Ned couldn't respond to that, and the only noise was the low snoring of Balerion on the bottom of Torrhen's bed. "Aye, I suppose your childhood was stolen by me in this life, too."

Torrhen looked up at his Father. "I wouldn't change it though, Father. This second chance is a blessing, and one I fully intend on making the most of."

"It's not just you though." Ned sighed. "Sansa is to wed within the week, if she hasn't already."

That got Torrhen's full attention. "They were to wait."

"Lord Bolton is impatient, and worried for his House's safety." Ned explained. "Robb gave them his permission with my blessing, under certain guidelines."

Ned explained the conditions to the younger twin, and Torrhen gritted his teeth. "I should be there. She's my sister."

"And she's my daughter." Ned reminded him with a wry smile. "We'll have a modest feast when we return to Winterfell, I promise."

"It doesn't feel right." Torrhen sighed. "She wasn't there at my wedding, and now I'm not there at hers."

Ned placed a hand on his son's shoulder. "You'll see her soon, and Mira too."

"I hope so." Torrhen said wistfully, although the pair of Starks were interrupted as Ser Arys Oakheart burst into the tent panting.

"My Lords… we've breached the walls… Lannisport is open to us!"

Ned immediately stood straighter, and his Lord's face was put on. "Get your armour on now, Torrhen." He commanded. "Ser Arys, with me."

And with that he left the tent at pace, leaving Torrhen still as a rock for a moment, before he sprung into action and got himself prepared.

Sansa was the most beautiful thing that Catelyn Stark had ever seen. The young maiden wore a fine gown of ivory coloured linen, and topped it off with a thick woollen grey cloak, with the snarling direwolf of her house proudly running along a green ledge on her back, and Catelyn hated it all.

"You're too young." She kept whispering as she brushed her daughter's long, auburn hair. "Far too young…"

Sansa however, smiled at her through the mirror. "You know why I have to though, Mother. We need to keep House Bolton on side."

"They're our vassals." Cat retorted. "They should follow us anyway."

Sansa chuckled lightly. "As should House Frey follow Grandfather, yet now they will likely only answer to the King after his marriage. Robb has made it clear on what is to happen. We both shall stay in Winterfell until I am 16, you know this."

Cat did, but the thought of her daughter marrying a Bolton this early still disagreed with her. She tied Sansa's hair up into a stunning Northern style and took a step back. "You look beautiful, Sansa."

The younger girl beamed at herself in the mirror, before the door swung open and in came a scowling Arya, holding the hand of the barely walking Sara Stark.

"Mama!" Sara shrieked.

Catelyn forced a smile as she saw her youngest daughter in her dress. "Why aren't you a pretty little thing." She cooed, picking the one-year-old up.

"Why do I have to wear a dress though." Arya said grumpily. "I'm not getting married."

"Because no matter how much archery training you do, young lady, you are a Lady of House Stark." Catelyn said firmly. "You will not shame us today."

"You look lovely, Arya." Sansa told her sister. Arya looked over at Sansa like she had grown an extra head. "I mean it! I'm not looking for any fights today I swear it."

"Thanks." Arya mumbled awkwardly. "We saw Dom on the way up, he was talking to Robb."

Sansa suddenly grew a bit nervous. "What if he thinks I'm too young."

Arya snorted, much to the disdain of her Mother. "Arya!" Catelyn scolded.

"What?" Arya protested. "He's always asking how Sansa is, wondering what sweets she likes, if she likes horses, what her favourite books are. He doesn't care if she's young, he just wants a happy marriage."

Even Catelyn had to admit that while the elder Bolton outright terrified her with his narrow glares and his reputation, Domeric seemed to be more like her Ned, having taken to the Vale as a second home and brought on board the values instilled there. She saw Sansa's delighted grin and sighed, stroking young Sara's auburn hair.

"He's so kind." Sansa said dreamily. "Not at all like his family."

"And thank the Seven for that." Cat said quietly. "But be cautious with your words, Sansa. Do not offend the man who's castle you are to live in."

Sansa nodded. "Sorry Mother."

A knock at the door came then. "Are you ladies decent?" Robb's voice called through.

"Come in, Robb." Sansa replied. The door opened and revealed Robb in a fine, dark blue doublet with a thick wolfskin cloak, tied together with two metal direwolves interlocking their mouths. Grey Wind was at his side.

"Wylla has taken Beron, Rickon and Robin down to the Godswood, and the Direwolves have gone with her." Robb explained to Catelyn. "Everybody is waiting."

Cat smiled sadly. "Very well." She said, tucking a strand of hair behind Sara's right ear before turning to Sansa. "I shall see you down there." She kissed her eldest daughter on the cheek before leaving the room, reminding herself internally to not cry.

In the absence of both Ned and Torrhen, Robb had been the one to give Sansa away while Roose Bolton conducted the service. Even as he walked down the lantern lit aisle he noted that the war had meant there was a distinct lack of senior Lords and heirs at the wedding. The Smalljon's toddler Ned Umber was the most senior noble available from Last Hearth, while places like Deepwood Motte, Karhold and White Harbour could only send women of their House.

It was only after the ceremony that Robb noticed just how few people were left in the North. Granted Lady Dustin was here, as well as Lord Bolton and the elderly Lord Ryswell, but even House Forrester were completely absent, a fact that annoyed Robb more than it possibly should have. That being said, the heir to Winterfell saw how happy his sister was as she twirled around the dancefloor with her new husband, and he sat contently next to his wife, who had their son sat on the table watching the festivities, being gently jigged around by Wylla to the music.

He also saw Catelyn on the dancefloor. His Mother had cheered up greatly in the last couple of hours and was currently twirling both Rickon and Robin around teaching them both some dance moves. Robb burst into laughter when he saw his youngest brother fall flat on his arse at one of the moves, and he sipped some more ale to calm himself down slightly.

His good mood was interrupted as Maester Luwin made his way towards the head table. Robb didn't take his eyes away from the dancing but leaned towards the elderly man. "What is it?"

"News from the South, My Lord. As well as from the Wall."

The latter surprised him. "The Wall?"

"The First Ranger is missing." Luwin said quietly, so only he and Wylla heard. Robb's wife, thankfully, continued acting as if everything was alright.

Robb sighed. "He knows the lands Beyond the Wall better than anybody. I have faith he will find his way back to Winterfell one day. What of the South?"

"There is a sense of stalemate." Luwin explained, handing Robb a letter from Ned. Robb read it and sucked in a breath. He looked up again after he had finished and saw his Mother looking over, concerned. Shaking his head and smiling widely, Catelyn seemed appeased and began to drag the young boys around the dancefloor once more.

"Lannisport is close to falling." Robb explained to Wylla, who he knew was listening. "But Tywin Lannister is devious, he has bought the Golden Company and they are besieging the capital."

"Bran?" Wylla asked.

Robb shook his head. "No news, but he is Stannis' squire and we would have heard if the King's own brother was dead. No news is good news as far as I am concerned."

"What will you do, will you march South?" Wylla asked.

Robb shook his head once more. "If I were to ask the men here to march again they would I'm sure, but reluctantly and too slowly to make any difference. No, we stay here and rule, keeping one eye on the Ironborn and the other on the Wall."

"Mother preserve us." Wylla gasped. Robb quickly snapped his head towards her and was relieved when she was grinning. "Your sister is dancing."

"Of course she is, it's her wedding." Robb said, confused.

"No!" Wylla laughed. "In the corner."

She didn't point, but Robb didn't need her too. There in the dark he could just make out Arya dancing with Cregan Glenmore, the young man that had become a firm favourite to most of Robb's siblings, including him. Robb grinned at the sight. "He did help her with the bow." He noted. "Although I may need to keep him as an advisor, if he can convince Arya to dance…"

"Robb!" He heard a tiny voice come from beside him. Luwin had gone and in his place stood a slightly wobbly Sara Stark. She put her arms out towards him expectantly, and he duly obliged and picked her up. One of the handmaids was close by.

"Apologies, milord. She wouldn't sit still." She said, her head lowered.

"That's quite alright. Go and enjoy yourself, I'll take care of my sister." Robb smiled politely. The woman bowed and left the room, and Robb placed Sara down on the table next to Beron. It was strange, the war still raged down in the South and the lives of two of his brothers and his Father were still at risk, but up in Winterfell watching as Sansa and Domeric celebrated their union in the only way they could for a few years, Robb felt happier and more at peace than he had felt in a long time.

The Great Hall of the Red Keep was packed with soldiers. Bran was sat to one side with Summer just waiting to hear what the plan was now when Stannis came in flanked by a number of the senior Lords and Knights.

"Ser Davos has destroyed their ships." Stannis began, before gesturing Bran over towards him. "But his men are sailors, not land soldiers, the Golden Company would slaughter them on land."

"He is to blockade then?" Lord Hunter asked.

Stannis nodded. "They may be in the city, but they will never leave it alive." He looked towards Bran. "But we are not defeated yet. The King will be close to taking Casterly Rock and we still have allies."

"Where?" Yohn asked. He had a dark gash on his forehead. "The Vale numbers are depleting, as are your own."

"We have enough to hold the Castle." Ser Aron Santagar stated.

"And enough food within to withstand a short siege." Stannis finished. "The victory is still within reach, My Lords."

Yohn looked at Stannis with a wry smile. "You have a plan?"

Stannis nodded, looking at Bran. "I do. Come, Brandon." Stannis then walked past the Iron Throne and into the Small Council chambers, shutting the door behind Bran when the youngster entered. "You performed admirably."

"I stumbled and hit my head." Bran said sadly.

"You survived." Was the curt response. "Than in itself is an achievement. But I have a greater task for you now."

"Lord Stannis?" Bran asked.

Stannis motioned for him to go to the table, and Bran saw a large map of the Red Keep sprawled on top of it. "Do you know the history of the Red Keep? The stories of King Maegor?"

Bran nodded. "Maegor the Cruel oversaw the completion of the castle and invited all of the builders to feast with him before having them all killed, so only he knew the secrets."

"And do you think that nobody else found out?" Stannis asked, one eyebrow slightly raised. Bran wasn't sure, so he remained silent. "Varys wasn't just telling secrets to the King; he was keeping them from my Brother as well. He knew the secrets of the castle better than anybody alive, and he knew that there are secret ways out."

"You want to leave?" Bran asked quickly, instantly regretting it as he saw the look Stannis gave him.

"I am my Brother's representative here in King's Landing and the people expect to see me fight for them." Stannis explained. "But you are a boy, not well versed in warfare yet but you would be a valuable hostage if Ser Kevan got his hands on you. If we fall and you are captured, Robert's entire army would be forced to withdraw. That is why I want you to find this exit here." He pointed to the map, close to the dungeons. "Search the dungeons as quickly as possible. You will take half a dozen knights with you, and you are to travel Southwards to the Kingswood with this letter." Bran was handed a note from the Lord of Dragonstone that was sealed with the golden wax of his House. "Once you enter the woods, find the Reach army."

"The Reach have another army?" Bran interrupted, before looking apologetic. "Sorry…"

Stannis nodded briskly. "Led by my brother. Find them and we'll have King's Landing in our sole control in no time."