Chapter 34: The Krakens

It was only after the slaughter that Jon realised he had just made his first kills. He had been ready to use his blade on Viserys back on the journey to Vaes Dothrak, but he had never actually killed a man until the slaughter of the Lhazareen village. Khal Drogo's Khalasar had met with a smaller one led by a Khal Ogo, and the two battled in the middle of the village, with the Lhazareen ending up as collateral damage.

"You did well." Jory Cassel said from behind him as the Khalasar rode out, onto the next village.

"I feel dirty." Jon admitted. "They were normal people."

Jory nodded. "Aye, but still…" He trailed off.

"This is not Westeros, Jon Snow." Ser Jorah was riding up to them from behind, followed by Daenerys on her Silver. "These people, this is their way of life."

Dany looked over at Jon. "Are you alright?" She asked, concerned.

Jon nodded, he hadn't taken any wounds from the battle thankfully. "Aye Khaleesi, I'm just struggling not to see his face, that's all."

"How is the Khal?" Jory asked the Targaryen Princess.

In the aftermath of battle, one of Khal Drogo's blood riders grew unhappy with Daenerys claiming all of the women for her own to save them from the rape that usually followed a Dothraki victory, and Drogo had ended up killing him, taking a small wound to the chest in the process. Jon had been impressed at the show from the Khal, defeating the blood rider without using his own weapons, but instead the man's own arakh after disarming him and cutting his throat, with Drogo pulling his tongue out through the neck wound. It reminded Jon that he never wanted to fight the man one on one.

Dany looked off into the distance. "It is a flesh wound, nothing more." She said simply. "The women of Lhazar suffered more than he did."

"You saved the witch." Jon noted. "Why?"

Dany turned to look at Jon inquisitively. "I saved all the women."

"But only after you saw her being led away." Jon had seen it all.

Dany smirked. "You're perceptive." She noted. She looked at her bags that were draped over Silver. "These eggs I have, do you know when the last one hatched?"

Jon nodded. "5 years before King Aegon III died." He remembered from his lessons with Maester Luwin, as well as from the reading of his Father's house that he had done on the journey across the Narrow Sea."

"And not one egg has hatched since." Dany noted. "There have been eggs of course and attempts to hatch them. But none have hatched since that day almost 150 years ago." She looked back at where the Lhazareen women were being herded behind them. "Don't you think a little magic may help?"

"THEY'RE COMING HOME! THEY'RE COMING HOME!"

Robb groaned as the shouting woke him up from his deep slumber. Wylla stirred next to him, unhappy at the awakening as well. The door burst open and Wylla made sure to cover her bare skin, and Robb sat up to see Arya bursting into the room. "Arya, we spoke about privacy. It's not just me in here anymore." Robb reminded her as if he hadn't been married for over a year already.

"I don't care!" She exclaimed happily. "Father and Torrhen are coming home!"

That was news to Robb, as the last he had heard Lannisport was yet to fall. Thankfully he had a loose pair of trousers on, so he got out of bed, allowing Wylla to wrap the covers tightly around her body. "Where did you hear this?" He asked her, grabbing a white undershirt to cover his bare chest.

"Mother got a letter from Father." Arya explained. "They won Robb! The Lannisters are dead!"

Robb laughed, surprised. "Is this true?"

"Why would I lie?" Arya asked defensively. "Of course it is! Tor sent one to Sansa too!"

Robb looked pleased at that and ruffled his little sister's hair. "I'll come down to the Great Hall in a moment for some breakfast, why don't we share the letters then?"

Arya nodded, running out of the room almost as quickly as she came into it. Robb closed the door behind her and turned with a wide grin on his face. Wylla relaxed the covers around her, getting out of bed to put a shift on. "It's really over?" Wylla asked, hopefully.

Robb shook his head. "There's still the Ironborn to deal with. They've been thrown off of our shores, but many Northerners want their revenge, myself included."

"Robb… we've just had a baby." Wylla reminded him. "Don't leave Beron."

Robb smiled sadly and walked over to his wife to kiss her forehead. "If I am tasked by Father to bring justice to the Ironborn I shall do so, My Lady. I owe them after Rillwater Crossing."

"You won that battle." Wylla said pointedly.

"And got injured in the process." Robb countered.

Wylla took a step back, looking at him disapprovingly. "We have that monster in the cells, along with Theon. Send Balon Greyjoy a couple of heads, or hands, or anything to ward him off. He can stay on his islands."

"It's not that simple." Robb sighed. "The King will want revenge, as will all of the North, and a Stark must lead them."

He kissed her again on the forehead before Wylla left for her own personal chambers so that they both could get changed for the day, and once Robb had tightened his boots he gestured to the snoozing Grey Wind to move, and the pair went down to the Great Hall, where Arya, Rickon and Robin were having their breakfast being overseen by Cat. Domeric and Sansa were at their own table.

"Where's Sara?" Robb asked.

"With her nursemaid." Cat replied. "She ate earlier."

Robb nodded, sitting down opposite her and spoke to one of the serving girls. "Some of the fish with some toast, if you will. And a small glass of ale."

"Milord." The woman bowed, departing.

Robb turned to his Mother. "I hear we're to be back to an almost full castle soon."

Cat smiled. "Luwin came to me in the night with the news."

"What did Father say?"

Cat handed him the raven message. It detailed the battle and the aftermath, while explaining that He and the Northmen were coming home that very day. "This must be two days old."

Cat nodded. "Likely they are at the Golden Tooth by now."

Robb then saw that there were instructions for him at the bottom. "We need to send ravens to the Lords and Ladies that we will combine the harvest feast with a celebratory feast to mark the end of the conflict with the West."

"I'll see to it." Cat responded.

"Add a note on the one to Ironrath that Mira should come to Winterfell as soon as she is able." Robb noted. "I'm sure Torrhen will want her to be here when he arrives."

Cat smiled knowingly and agreed to that with a nod as Robb's breakfast arrived. He began to tuck in quickly, all the while his mind was going over what was about to happen with the Ironborn.

Part of Bran's lessons had been to attend the Small Council meetings as the group's cupbearer. Instructed to stand in one corner and just to listen, he had taken to his new task with as much maturity as the youngster could muster.

He had gotten to know many of the people's names too. Sitting inside as an interim council were Stannis Baratheon, who lead the meeting, Renly Baratheon was in his old position as Master of Laws, but other than that this interim Small Council was entirely different to before the war. Ser Morton Waynwood, the heir to Ironoaks, was filling in as Master of Coin, although he seemed slightly out of his depth. There was no officially appointed Master of Whispers with the disappearance of the eunuch Varys, but Lady Olenna Tyrell had made her way to the Red Keep and was filling in for inside the castle, while Ser Davos Seaworth was bringing the whispers from the city, as well as filling in as Master of Ships. Also on the council as advisors were Lord Yohn Royce and the recently arrived Ser Stevron Frey, who was representing the Queen. Also on the council was the new Grand Maester, Gormon Tyrell.

The meeting was coming to a close as the group spoke about the repairs to the city and preparations to send a force to meet the Ironborn. "All repairs to the fleet have been made." Ser Davos was telling them all. "The ships that remain will be ready to set sail again as soon as they are supplied."

"Good news." Renly nodded. "Good work, Davos."

"Ser." Stannis corrected. "I knighted Ser Davos myself, remember."

Renly bowed with a grin on his face. "How could I forget."

"We did receive a raven from Casterly Rock in the early hours, Lord Stannis." Gormon Tyrell told the Baratheon. "From His Grace."

Stannis glared at the Grand Maester. "Why not lead with that?" He asked. Tyrell apologised silently and handed the raven letter to Stannis, who broke the seal and read the note. "The battle in the West is won. Tywin Lannister and Cersei Lannister have been executed. The Kingslayer is on his way to the Wall, and Lord Tyrion has been sworn in as Lord of Casterly Rock and Warden of the West. Ser Kevan's twin sons have been taken as hostages, with Martyn Lannister going to Highgarden and Willem Lannister going to Winterfell."

"Ah, wonderful." Olenna murmured. "A lion in my castle."

"One of the better ones, by all accounts." Morton Waynwood noted.

Olenna eyed the man up. "Perhaps you would like to take him instead?"

Stannis looked at her sternly. "That is the King's command, and you shall obey it Lady Olenna."

Olenna smiled. "But of course."

Renly took the letter from Stannis and flicked through it. "He's also named you Hand of the King brother, did you not get to that part?"

"I didn't want to cause a scene." Stannis said quietly, and Bran thought there was a little hint of embarrassment on his face. "No matter, he has also charged me with preparing to bring him back Balon Greyjoy in chains to face the King's judgement, so I shan't be here for long."

Gormon Tyrell reached into his robes and pulled out the pin that signified the Hand of the King and handed it to Stannis. "Congratulations, My Lord."

The sentiment swept around the room from all inside it, and Stannis nodded firmly. "Unless there is anything else?"

No new points were raised, and so the Small Council began filtering out, with Renly clapping Stannis on the back as the younger man departed. Stannis put his hands on the table and leant on them, letting out a sigh. Bran stepped forwards then. "Does this mean we will be going to the Iron Islands, Lord Stannis?" He asked.

Stannis looked at the young Stark. "We will. You can go now, Brandon, but tomorrow I want you to join me on the Fury at dawn, and I will instruct you on what I know about naval warfare."

"My Lord." Bran bowed his head, eager to get to the next day. He walked slowly out of the Small Council chamber before running gleefully out of the Throne Room, rushing to get to the training yard for another lesson.

As dusk began to fall on the North and the summer snows had stopped, leaving a light dusting on the ground, Robb took the meal that was meant for his old friend down to the dungeons. He walked down the corridor that housed both Greyjoy men currently appreciating the hospitality of Winterfell, passing by Victarion Greyjoy's cell and stopping by Theon's. The door opened and Robb stepped in to see Theon on the bed. The Greyjoy heir sat upright quickly, looking at him.

"Robb…" The man whispered.

Robb placed the tray down on the small desk in the cell and turned towards Theon sternly. "The Ironborn have been beaten back from the North." He replied coldly. "Soon we will be on our way to Pyke to raze the castle and kill your Father."

Theon gulped, but nodded. "As is your right." He said solemnly.

"You don't approve?" Robb asked, an eyebrow raised. "I'm sue if you saw the devastation your family has brought on the coastal villages you'd change your mind."

"I approve." Theon said quickly. "I just wish I could have done something, helped you in some way. I could have got him to stop…"

Robb barked out a bitter laugh. "I know exactly what would have happened had you have contacted your Father. You would have been insulted by him treating you as a Greenlander as he calls us. He would belittle your clothing, your arrogance, and he would have encouraged you to attack us to please him."

"No." Theon whispered. "I would never betray you."

"Why not?" Robb asked. "You're a hostage after all, you always have been."

Theon stood up, his eyes darkening in anger. "But I was still your friend." He said firmly. "That hasn't changed." He sighed. "I remember Pyke, not very well but I remember it. My Father was bitter, he wanted a crown and he didn't care how he got it. He got my brothers killed with his folly, and now he has rebelled again knowing it would mean my death." He spat on the ground. "Lord Stark has been more of a Father to me than he ever has."

Robb looked at him in surprise, ignoring the banging on the walls from the next cell. "The North will never trust a Greyjoy, I hope you realise that."

Theon nodded. "I know."

Sighing, Robb walked forward and gripped Theon's shoulder tightly. "Have a think about your loyalties, Theon. Have a think about who cares and who doesn't. If you choose your blood then so be it I wouldn't blame you for that. But with your name now comes certain consequences that were not there before. King Robert wants your Father dead and won't care how many heads he collects in the process."

"You all treated me as family, even though I wasn't." Theon said, the realisation of his choice sinking in. "I will always appreciate that."

Robb smiled. "Have a think." Was all he said before he turned around and walked back out of the cell door, hoping that his friend made the tough decision that would spare his life.

There was just sand for as far as the eye could see. They were travelling Southwards to find more villages to plunder, although Jon and Jory were again towards the back of the Khalasar while Daenerys was at the front with Ser Jorah. It was a slow and boring ride, and Jon could tell that Ghost was getting agitated with all of the walking.

Suddenly they stopped. "What's going on?" Jon asked. "We should be riding for a few hours more at least.

Jory shrugged, and the Northmen waited for a few minutes until the news filtered through that the Khal had ordered them to stop.

They set their tents up before going to find Daenerys or Jorah. It was mid-afternoon when Jorah found them and brought them towards the main tent. Inside Jon was shocked to see the Khal lying on his back weakly, a poultice on his wound. Dany was behind his head, cooling the Khal down with a wet cloth. "What happened?" Jon asked.

"He fell." Jorah answered honestly. "He won't last the night."

"Fuck." Jory swore. "What happens now?"

Jorah looked around. "Gather your Northmen and the Direwolf, we shall slip out at sundown and head for Asshai…"

"We will do no such thing, Jorah." Dany said firmly yet calmly, not looking away from Drogo.

"Khaleesi…" Jorah begged. "When the Khal dies…"

"I know what happens, Jorah." Dany said with a dreamy voice. "But that is not what is destined to happen."

"What happens?" Jon asked.

Jorah sighed. "When the Khal dies everyone will start fighting for the right to be the new Khal, and after all of that is done they won't want any challengers. They will keep the Khaleesi a hostage and wait for the babe to be born before feeding it to the dogs."

Jon grew angry at the thought. "I won't let them." He growled, his hand on his sword pommel.

Dany smiled sadly up at them. "They won't get the chance." She told them, standing up. She looked between the three men in the tent. "Do you trust me, all of you?"

Jorah nodded immediately, while Jory looked at Jon, who nodded the once briefly. "Aye, I do."

"Then I do to." Jory said.

Dany smiled. "Then trust that what I am about to do is for the good of all mankind." She told them all. "Gather your men and arm yourselves. I want you all standing guard outside the tent." The tent opened up and the Lhazareen witch came in. "Go." Dany insisted.

Jon nodded, and led the three Northman out of the tent whilst wondering what Dany was so worried about that required their armour.

Robb loved the time he got to spend later on in the day, between his dinner and the time he usually went to bed, where he could relax a little more and spend time with his son. Little Beron was half a year old now and growing quickly. His first tooth was starting to show however, so the baby was grumpier than usual.

As Robb was holding Beron about to put him in his cot a knock on the door came, and in came Wylla who looked over and smiled at the sight. "I was just putting him down." Robb said quietly, not wanting to disturb Beron's snoozing. He placed Beron gently into the cot and tucked him up.

"I know you like to watch him drift off properly." Wylla said just as quietly. "But there's been an incident." Robb looked at her, alarmed, when a wet nurse came into the room to sit with Beron. Sighing, he put his thick cloak back on over his shoulders and tied it together, so it stayed up.

"Stay, Grey Wind. Protect Beron." He bid his Direwolf, and he began to walk with Wylla as she explained what had happened. "I don't know how it started, but I was with the cooks going over our stores when a guard came running through saying there had been a breakout."

"Theon?" Robb asked immediately, almost hopefully.

Wylla shook her head, and Robb's hand went to his sword at the thought of Victarion loose in the castle. "He's been subdued." Wylla said quickly, easing Robb's worry. "But… well your Mother bid me to get you."

They stormed down towards the Great Hall where a small crowd of guards had gathered in a circle, swords and crossbows all trained at the kneeling Victarion Greyjoy, his arms had been rebound and an arrow was sticking out of his shoulder. Cat and Arya were there too, as well as a snarling Nymeria. He made his way over to his family, before noticing that Arya had a bow in her hands. "What happened?" He demanded to know.

"He broke out of his cell." Arya pointed the bow at Victarion.

"I can see that." Robb rolled his eyes. "The full story. Now!" He barked at the entire room.

Cat placed her hand on Robb's chest. "Calm yourself Robb." She said soothingly.

"Milord." One of the guards said from behind him. Robb turned to see the man was bloodied in the face with a gash.

"Brynan." Robb greeted.

"The squid here broke out as he was getting his supper, stole some keys and went to the next cell." The guard Brynan answered. "He killed the other men on the door and broke in, beating on Theon."

"Traitor." Victarion snarled, only for Nymeria to growl louder, her teeth bared as she moved closer.

"Continue." Robb commanded, his face dark.

Brynan nodded. "Well we got there in time, but Theon, he's in a bad way milord. We dragged him off of the boy, but he'd got a knife you see, I got me face slashed but Harwin and Norren…" He trailed off, anger hitting the guard. "Well he got away and ran for it. I tried giving chase, but I only had one hand you see, trying to keep this from bleedin'."

"He ran into the courtyard." Arya picked up the story. "I was with Nymeria practicing." She held up the bow. "When I saw him and Brynan giving chase. So I shot him."

Robb smirked in surprise. "You shot him?" He asked for clarification.

Arya looked offended. "I have been practicing!" She cried. "I got him, only I wasn't aiming for his shoulder…" She trailed off.

"Milady got him just right." Brynan said, nodding. "I piled on top of him and the rest of us managed to get the knife and contain him."

"Luwin is with Theon now." Cat explained. "But we knew you needed to be here to say what we should do with him." She nodded towards Victarion.

Victarion grinned, although he was still in pain. "You ain't got the balls to kill me, pup."

Robb took a deep breath, a glare on his face as he stepped forwards towards Victarion Greyjoy, his hand on his pommel. "It would be the just thing to do, you killed men of the North, you tried to become a kinslayer. That's a crime the gods won't forgive."

"Nothing happens to Kinslayers." Victarion mumbled bitterly.

"You're a strong man, an excellent warrior." Robb noted. "And in the coming war we need all the strength we can get."

"I ain't fighting my own people." Victarion spat.

Robb shook his head. "No you aren't." He agreed. "They don't need your help to die. No, you're going North, Greyjoy. You will take the vows of the Night's Watch and man the Wall against whatever is coming for us."

Victarion laughed. "I'd rather die." He spat again.

Robb smirked. "Which is why it's the perfect punishment. You either serve or take the cowards way out and die by your own hand." He knew he was pushing his luck now, but Robb felt brave when the man was forcibly on his knees before him. "Brynan. See that he is put in one of our more, suitable, cells for the night. Tomorrow he will be escorted to Castle Black."

Brynan grinned. "Aye, Lord Robb. I know just the one." Victarion was hoisted up by force. "Come on you, you'll be in luxury tonight." The man laughed.

The guards filtered out escorting Victarion so no repeat could happen, and Robb moved to fall down into his Father's lordly chair as he breathed in relief. Wylla came beside him and started massaging his shoulders, while Cat just looked worried. "Is it wise? Sending him there?"

Robb nodded. "If we didn't know what was coming I'd behead him myself, but he's a capable warrior. If he accepts his fate and does his job, he'll be a valuable asset to the Watch."

"What's coming?" Arya asked. Robb looked at Cat alarmed, forgetting that Arya didn't know.

"Never you mind." Cat said chastising her daughter.

Arya looked at Robb. "What's coming?" Arya asked again impatiently.

"Listen to Mother." Robb told his sister. "And keep practicing. You're not going to be much use if you can only hit a shoulder every time."

Arya scowled, before she smirked. "I'll show you!" She exclaimed, sticking her tongue out at Robb. "Come Nymeria! To the training yard!"

The Direwolf bounded after her mistress, and Robb smirked as Arya left the room too, passing by Maester Luwin, his robes dotted with blood. "Maester." Robb greeted, gently pushing Wylla away and sitting up straight.

"He will live." Luwin said quickly, not wanting to keep them in suspense. "His face is more bruised than the time Torrhen took a disliking to it and his nose is broken again, but that's not the worst of it."

"Tell us." Wylla said, her hand resting on Robb's shoulder.

Luwin sighed. "His arm is badly broken in multiple places. Parts of the bone in his lower arm have pushed through muscle and skin. I fear that we may have to take the arm."

Robb sighed, his left hand rubbing his forehead. "Is there no way to save it?"

Luwin shook his head. "Any attempt will most likely lead to infection. Best to take it now before it is too late."

"Then do it and may both he and the Gods forgive me." Robb told the Maester. Luwin bowed and left the room again to get to work. "This is my fault." He sighed. "If I hadn't have seen him earlier…"

"You didn't make Victarion Greyjoy do that." Cat stopped him quickly.

Robb nodded. "You're right." He told her with a sad smile. His face then grew sterner, and his voice went deeper and lordlier. "Let it be known that Theon's family have forsaken him. Tonight's attack has shown us that House Greyjoy have disinherited Theon Greyjoy. He's one of us now."

Cat looked at him. "Are you sure you want to do this?" She asked quietly.

Robb nodded, and he realised Wylla was still there so chose his words carefully. "Torrhen's dreams showed me enough mistakes that I could make. I will not abandon my friend again. So long as I am heir, or Lord of Winterfell, Theon shall have a place here."