Chapter 41: Fire and Blood

Torrhen had been born during the last winter, but he didn't have any memories of it at all. He had known snow of course and had had to deal with the winter brought by the White Walkers before he died, but there was something different about the Frozen Shore. It was a beautiful white sheet that covered the land, and the cold was evident, but it wasn't as harsh and biting as some that Torrhen had known.

They landed in the large cove that separated the largest part of the Frozen Shore from the Frostfangs mountain range. Torrhen stepped off of the boat and crunched his boots on the snow underfoot, staring at the jagged mountain tops on the horizon. "That's where we need to go." He told his party.

"We'll set up camp here." Domeric Bolton said, stepping off of the boat next, closely followed by Cregan Glenmore. "The sun has started to get lower and we would be better off setting off at dawn."

Torrhen nodded, and he helped out with the other 14 in their group as they set up tents and he even helped Harwin, one of the guards that Ned had sent with him, prepare meals for the horses. By the time the camp was set up in a manner that would be easily defendable the sun had truly gotten lower in the sky. They started a campfire and half the men sat around it, while the other half guarded the perimeter. Torrhen sat beside Domeric Bolton as he chewed on his oatbread and noticed Domeric snorting out a laugh. He looked and saw the Bolton heir unwrapping a lemon cake. "She must like you a lot if she shares those." Torrhen noted.

Domeric smiled. "I am rather fond of her too. I perhaps shouldn't be given the age difference, but Sansa is a sweet girl. Not like any other I've ever known."

"Aye, that's true." Torrhen noted. "I'm glad you get on well. There was a time where she was worried because of our houses history."

Domeric nodded knowingly. "We've spoken about that." He murmured. "The Dreadfort is a dreary place it's true, but it's home."

"Just don't show her the room with the skins when you do travel back there with her." Torrhen grinned.

Domeric feigned innocence. "What room?" Torrhen snorted a laugh and took another bite, while Domeric pulled out a piece of parchment from his satchel. "I was thinking about the responsibility put on my shoulders just by having this marriage on the journey up here. Our houses have long been enemies."

"We heard stories about the men of the Dreadfort coming to steal us away as children." Torrhen told Dom. "Old Nan is a fanciful storyteller."

Domeric grinned. "I should have asked to wed in the wildling custom, then your stories would be reality." Torrhen chuckled, shaking his head. "Seriously though, my Father taught us the same things about Winterfell and our heritage." He sighed. "Spending time in the Vale opened my eyes a bit to the reality of the world. I don't want my House to be known as the antagonistic one in the North. I want us to be different."

"You are the heir." Torrhen shrugged. "One day, you will rule the Dreadfort and whatever you wish for House Bolton can be a reality. Your destiny is your choice, Dom."

Domeric smiled. "I'm glad you said that." He handed Torrhen the parchment. It was a scribbled sigil, a white longsword with a border of blood red on a navy background. "Our current banner glorifies an outlawed act. I would change that."

Torrhen nodded. "I like it." He admitted. "You are still showing your words and that you are a house to be feared, yet you're losing a stigma that your family have had for generations."

"My Father would never agree." Domeric chuckled, taking the parchment back."

"You are an anointed knight, are you not?" Torrhen asked him.

"I am." Domeric confirmed.

Torrhen grinned. "Then use it as a personal sigil until you come into your title." Domeric had a thoughtful look on his face at the suggestion, and Torrhen continued. "Ask Sansa to stitch you a surcoat to start with and see if you like it." He pointed to his tent, where the first banner that he had received in this life flew proudly. "She made that for me, she's extremely talented."

Domeric nodded. "Aye, I might just do that."

Torrhen grinned, getting to his feet and stretching. "You're not the only one eager to see hostilities between our houses put to one side, all of us in Winterfell are eager to do so as well. Remember that." He clapped Domeric on the back and went to retire for the night, leaving the Bolton heir lost in his thoughts as he pondered on what to do.

"And it's not just thieves, My Lord. There's wolves in them hills now, more than I ever seen. They come down in the night and they kill my sheep. My three sons all died in the south fighting with you, my lord. I have no one to man my flock now. Only me. I can't keep watch all day and all night."

Ned Stark was holding his weekly court session with the newly returned Robb at his side, although he knew that all the heir of Winterfell wanted to do was to spend time with his son, Beron. The younger future Lord of Winterfell had just turned one, and Robb already lamented the time he had spent away from the boy.

"Go into the Wintertown to the orphanage there." Ned instructed the shepherd. "Pick out three boys from there and I shall pay for them personally. I'll also let you leave with a pouch full of coin for you to use to improve your fields to stop the wolves."

"Thank you, milord." The shepherd bowed his head.

"Ser Rodrik." Ned called out to his Master at Arms. "Assemble a group of five men. I want them to travel with this man here and to comb the lands for any sign of these thieves. Capture them alive, I will deal with them myself."

"Very good, My Lord." Ser Rodrik also bowed his head.

Ned turned back to the shepherd. "See to my steward and he shall give you the gold as well as go with you to the orphanage."

"Thank you again, milord." The shepherd bowed before he was escorted out. Ned leant back in his chair and sighed an audible sigh of relief.

"Is that it for the day?" He called out. Nobody came forward to say anything else, so Ned stood up.

"Quickly, My Lord." Maester Luwin said. "A raven came from the citadel. A white raven."

That brought a coldness that made even Ned shudder throughout the Great Hall. Robb was the first to react vocally. "Summer is over then." The heir said.

Ned nodded. "And Winter is Coming." He stated plainly. "Very well. Robb, organise preparations for a final Harvest Feast now that Summer is over. Luwin, draft out a letter to the Lords and Ladies of the North inviting them for the feast, but make it clear that since we already celebrated a similar celebration after the Lannister war ended it is not compulsory and that their duty to their people in preparation for the coming Winter is far more important."

"My Lord." Luwin bowed, leaving the hall. The rest of the audience had already filtered out, leaving only the two Stark's.

"We need to make sure our stores are full too." Ned explained. "I'll draft a letter to Highgarden to see if they can spare any supplies. Thankfully, the Lannister gold we took is plentiful."

Robb nodded. "I'll write to Lord Manderly too. Mayhaps his being in the Capital can gain us new trade relationships from the Free Cities."

Ned nodded, clapping Robb on the back. "Good, you're thinking like a Lord." He could see Robb looking towards the door and chuckled lightly. "Go, spend time with your boy."

"Thank you, Father." Robb grinned. The younger Stark bolted from the hall, leaving Ned alone to ponder on the future now that the long summer was finally over. He thought of Bran in the South, who should soon be back in King's Landing after his ordeals in the Iron Islands. He thought of Torrhen North of the Wall and prayed that his mission was successful. But above all, he prayed for the unlikeliness of all of their planning being unnecessary, and for a short winter to come without the added issues of war.

The arrangement to buy all 8,000 Unsullied as well as the half-trained boys went down smoother than the last time. Thankfully neither Jon nor Ser Jorah questioned her decision, thanks in part by the trust she had placed in them by explaining her past life.

Missandei had settled in nicely too, with Dany gifting her one of the Targaryen's dresses to wear rather than the slave rags that she had come to Dany in as soon as they arrived back on the ship. Dany had given both Irri and Doreah some free time for themselves and the Targaryen let Missandei style her hair too and used the time to get to know her once friend again.

"So where are you from?" Dany asked, knowing the answer but wanting to get the girl to open up.

"This one is from the Isle of Naath, Your Grace." Missandei answered dutifully.

Dany smiled knowingly. She had been to Naath once, after the conclusion of the Ghiscari Rebellion, and had taken a ship full of Unsullied as well as Grey Worm and Missandei there to stay before Dany rode back to her fleet on Drogon. She hadn't seen either of them again. "I hear it is beautiful." Dany said softly.

"I would not know, Your Grace." Missandei said softly. "Me and my brothers were taken very young."

Dany froze. "I'm sorry." She whispered. "Are they…" She trailed off, not wanting to know the answer.

"Two are dead." Missandei said sadly. "But Marselen is part of the Unsullied group that you will be purchasing."

"I'm buying your brother?" Dany asked with a smile. Missandei nodded as she combed the brush through Dany's silver hair. "I'm glad."

Missandei nodded. "You freed this one." She said slowly. "Is that your plan with the Unsullied?"

Dany had forgotten just how smart the Naathi was. "If all goes well, tomorrow there shall be no slaves in Astapor."

The door opened at that moment, and Dany grinned to see Jon standing there, his armour on. "Forgive me." Jon muttered.

"Come in." Dany smiled. "Missandei, this is Jon."

"Greetings." Missandei bowed her head.

Jon reciprocated the gesture before he looked at Dany. "The men are in place and Kraznys has gathered the Unsullied in the Plaza of Punishment."

Dany grimaced. "I hate this place." She muttered, before raising her voice. "Very well, we will be out in a moment. Is Drogon ready?"

Jon nodded. "Anxious, he knows something is wrong."

"He will be happy soon enough." Dany grinned. "Soon, I will show Astapor what our House words truly mean."

The Northmen split into two groups as dawn broke in the vast snowy plains of the Frozen Shore. Half of the group stayed with the raven in the camp under strict instructions to stay for ten days at the most, and if they heard nothing from Torrhen's own party then they were to presume the worst and leave the way they came. Torrhen meanwhile led his half a dozen men as they began the long journey towards the Frostfangs and the Skirling Pass that they were searching for. To even reach the mountain range took two days, and when they found a large passage leading eastwards, Torrhen knew that this was the road they needed to take. "Hold up." He commanded, and the party stopped. He made sure that he was strapped into his saddle well enough, and he let his consciousness fly towards Balerion.

The large black Direwolf then padded off into the pass to scout. Taking care to look into most crevices just in case there was a secret pathway, Torrhen must have been searching for almost an hour until he saw something interesting, a lone horseman dressed all in black. Balerion walked over towards the figure, and in the Direwolf's mind he noticed some kind of thurible in his right hand. Thinking it odd, Torrhen sniffed the horse, only to smell death.

Torrhen snarled Balerion's teeth, but the figure just cocked his head and lowered his hood, so that only his eyes and hair were visible. Balerion cocked his head, as Torrhen recognised the blue-grey eyes and dark hair staring back at him. Leaving a thought for Balerion to stay where he was, Torrhen returned to his own mind. Gasping, he reached for his water skin and took a long gulp, before breaking into a biscuit.

"What did you see?" Cregan asked from beside him. Torrhen looked around and saw his party were looking at him expectantly, some uneasy at his abilities.

"An ally." Torrhen said cryptically. "Come on, we should meet him." He pushed his Garron onwards through the entranceway to the Skirling Pass, and although he was eager he rode carefully, making sure that they weren't about to get ambushed. Luckily, they didn't, and soon enough Torrhen saw his Direwolf getting patted by the now dismounted black figure. When they were close, Torrhen said. "Wait here, I'll be a moment."

"My Lord…" Harwin began.

"It's ok Harwin." Torrhen said happily as he dismounted. "It's family." He made sure his sword belt was tight around his waist and he walked briskly towards the figure, his thick wolfskin cloak flapping in the wind. Without caution, he flung himself at the figure, wrapping him up in a warm embrace. "Uncle Benjen."

The figure hugged back for a moment, before pushing Torrhen away while keeping his hands on the younger Stark's shoulders. "You're wise beyond your years, nephew."

Torrhen grinned. "It's been said. What happened? We heard you were missing, presumed dead."

Benjen lowered the cloth covering his face, and Torrhen saw the scars and rot that had set in. "We hunted White Walker's further north. They found us instead. A White Walker stabbed me through the gut with an ice blade and left me to die. I would have joined their army had it not been for the children of the Forest."

Torrhen's face fell in sadness. "Father will be devastated." He said softly.

"Your Father knew that this was always a likelihood." Benjen said calmly. "Tell him not to worry, I will do my part here for as long as I can to give he and all of you a fighting chance."

Torrhen nodded. "We need to find Mance Rayder." He stated plainly.

"I know. The Children sent me to greet you and to guide you." Benjen explained. "He has scouts posted all along the Skirling Pass. Find his scouts and you'll be taken to him."

Torrhen nodded. "If they don't kill us all first."

Benjen shook his head before pointing further into the pathway between mountains. "Travel for three more hours and you'll find a valley on your left. Take that pathway up the mountain and you'll meet an old friend."

Torrhen nodded, committing the instructions to memory. "You're not coming with us?" He asked.

Benjen shook his head. "You have your path, as I have mine." He moved one of his hands up to cup Torrhen's cheek. "We will see one another again."

Torrhen nodded, stepping backwards to allow Benjen to mount his horse again. "Head towards Hardhome. If all goes well, Father will be there soon."

Benjen nodded. "Stay alive." Was all he said before kicking his horse into action and riding away. Torrhen scratched Balerion's neck for a moment as they watched Benjen disappear, before he mounted his own horse again.

"Was that who I think it was?" Harwin asked.

Torrhen nodded. "Aye, Uncle Benjen has given us a heading. With any luck we will be one step closer to going back home before the day is done."

The gates of Astapor opened to reveal a huge plaza filled to the brim of Unsullied stood in formation. Jon walked alongside Daenerys and Missandei as they walked around to their place to make the transaction. They passed a number of Astapori citizens that had come out to watch the transaction, and Jon felt disgusted at every single one of them. Kraznys began to shout words at them as they made their way towards him, which Missandei dutifully translated.

"The master says they are untested. He says you would be wise to blood them early. There are many small cities between here and Westeros that are ripe for sacking. Should you take any captives, the masters will buy the healthy ones for a good price." Missandei translated. Jon felt himself grow hot with anger, and he kept his hand on his sword hilt for good measure. He took a look at the front row of the Unsullied as they passed them, and Jon noticed the determined look in all of their eyes. He certainly wouldn't want to face them, and suddenly doubt about if Daenerys' plan would work set in. Kraznys spoke again, and once more Missandei translated. "And who knows, in ten years some of the boys you send them may be Unsullied in their turn. Thus all shall prosper."

They had stopped in front of Kraznys, who held a giant gold whip in his right hand. Jon fixed him with his best glare, but the arrogant master paid him no notice. Dany turned and walked over to the box carrying Drogon and undid the lid, allowing the small, chained dragon a chance to spread his wings and rise into the air. Jon held his breath as the exchange took place, with Dany and Kraznys swapping the dragon for the whip. "Is it done then?" The Targaryen girl asked as if it was rehearsed. "They belong to me?"

"It is done." Missandei responded after translating Kraznys. "You hold the whip."

Kraznys then spoke something that even Jon understood. "The bitch has her army." He gripped his sword tighter, but Daenerys just turned away from the master towards the Unsullied, ignoring the pained cries from Drogon. Jon just watched her, noticing a number of common Astapori walking through the lines of the Unsullied.

Then, Dany began her plan. "Unsullied!" She cried in Valyrian, surprising Missandei who looked at a smirking, knowing Jon. "Forward march!" The Unsullied began to move forwards in unison. "Halt!"

Jon was thankful for all of the Valyrian lessons at that moment, as Kraznys was struggling to hold the little black dragon he called to Missandei. "Tell the bitch her beast won't come."

Dany turned back to face him as he said this, and before Missandei could even begin to translate, Dany snarled. "A dragon is not a slave."

Just as Missandei had been, Kraznys looked shocked at the language being used. "You speak Valyrian?" He asked her, still struggling.

"I am Daenerys Stormborn of the House Targaryen." Dany spoke proudly. "Of the blood of Old Valyria. Valyrian is my mother tongue." Without waiting for a response, Daenerys turned around to face the Unsullied, and Jon gripped his sword tightly, knowing what was to come. "Unsullied! Slay the masters! Slay the soldiers! Slay every man who holds a whip! But harm no child. Strike the chains off every slave you see!"

Jon drew his sword quickly and struck fast, breaking the chain off of Drogon and quickly thrusting his blade into Kraznys' belly. His two personal guards quickly came upon Jon at that moment, and so Jon made sure to kill them both quickly, opening one's neck with a spray of blood and jabbing his own sword into the next one's heart. He turned around to see that the Unsullied had begun their own work, leaving only corpses behind. Jon heard the flapping of wings then and saw Drogon looking at him curiously. "Dracarys." He said calmly, and he could have sworn that the dragon grinned before he flew off, blowing fire on the enemies. Jon then turned back to where Missandei and Jorah stood and re-joined them, eager to protect Daenerys.

It was all over by the end of the day, with even a proxy council set up to govern the city. Astapor was burning and the slavers lay dead, either as bloody corpses or as charred remains. The Unsullied had reformed in their ranks and everybody was eager to be rid of the city. Whilst the butchery had been ongoing, Jory Cassel had stolen all the horses within the city and distributed them out to the remaining Dothraki before giving them out to Jorah, Missandei and Jon. The sole white mare was left for Daenerys however, and the Valyrian woman was eventually ready to leave. She walked through the ranks of the Unsullied over to where her new horse was being kept beside an already mounted Jon and without saying a word she mounted up gracefully. He moved beside her. "Are you ready."

Dany smiled softly at him. "To Yunkai." She told him softly. "But first…" She looked around her at the gathered Unsullied. "Unsullied! You have been slaves all your life. Today you are free. Any man who wishes to leave may leave and you shall come to no harm. I give you my word. Will you fight for me? As free men?"

It took a moment, but one Unsullied began banging their spears on the sandy ground, closely followed by more, and more again, and even more until finally the entire legion of the eunuch warriors were bashing their spears in unison. Jon couldn't take his eyes off of Dany as the noise carried through the plaza, and she caught his eye with a knowing smirk. It was at that moment, where the already powerful Targaryen woman was surrounded by her loyal army, that Jon knew exactly what he felt for Daenerys. It was total adoration.

They travelled far that first day on the march, and all throughout Jon had been questioning what he was going to say to Daenerys the next time they got a moment to speak. Unfortunately for him, duties for them both meant that it was the middle of the night before Jon got a chance to just relax. He got out of his armour and into something a lot more comfortable and lay down in his bed, although sleep continued to evade him. Groaning, he got up again and put his boots on. Thankfully, the nights were warm too, so he didn't need to wrap up much. Instead he grabbed his sword belt and left his tent in the direction of Dany's.

Candlelight was flickering inside, and Jon was grateful for that. He greeted the Unsullied standing guard outside and pushed through the flaps. There was nobody in the bed section, but he heard laughter coming from one of the side chambers. He walked towards it, hearing Missandei and Daenerys speaking about something unimportant. Pushing through, he was surprised to see Daenerys in a tub bathing, her nipples just above the water level.

"Jon." Dany said surprised.

"Forgive me, Your Grace." Jon immediately turned his back to protect her dignity. "I… I just…" He mentally kicked himself, not knowing what to say.

"Leave us." Jon heard Dany say to Missandei with mirth in her voice. Missandei walked swiftly passed Jon and out of the tent, leaving him standing there feel like a fool.

"I'm sorry. I should not have come…" Jon began.

"And yet you did." Dany said, and Jon heard the splashing of water indicating that she had stood. He stood there, keeping his back towards her as she got out of the tub. He expected her to put on a robe, and so when he felt her fingers on his arm pulling him to turn around he was extremely surprised to see that she was still naked. He averted his eyes, but that made for her to grin even wider. "You never were one to be comfortable with such avert nudity." Dany said jovially. "Not even after we wed before."

"I don't care about before." Jon said quickly, before realising how that sounded. "I… I'm sorry, that was harsh."

Dany shrugged. "It was honest. That's part of what I like about you, Jon Snow. You tell me the truth. So tell me, why are you here?"

Jon still continued to stare over her head. "I wanted to tell you that I… that I feel… why is this so difficult." He laughed at the last part, running his hands through his hair.

"I know what you want." Dany said softly. "I know what you feel. I feel the same."

Jon looked into her purple eyes. "Is it the me from your time you feel that for, or is it me?" He asked, unusually timid.

Dany reached up with both of her hands and held his face. "You." She whispered. She leant up on her tiptoes and planted her lips on his. Jon was surprised, but he kissed her back fiercely, allowing her to take dominance as her tongue wrestled with his own, and Dany pushed him through the translucent drapes towards the bed, the last two Targaryen's in existence igniting the old Valyrian custom once more.