32

Chapter 32 – Wolves of War

Winterfell, the North…

Ashara rode her horse towards the enormous stronghold of House Stark and was feeling increasingly nervous the closer she got. She had loved the man that ruled this castle…once. Back when they had been teenagers, her beauty had attracted the attention of his older brother Brandon and his best friend Robert Baratheon amongst others but it had been Ned that had caught her eye. He was so different to most of the men that she had known; quiet and sure but also shy and responsible. Most men his age that she had met were concerned solely with glory, money and sticking their cocks in as many women as possible but with Ned it was different. He had been gentle with her, even blushing much to her own humour and when she had finally brought him into her bed he had been determined to marry her, to preserve her integrity. No one was holding a sword to his head as her brother Arthur might well have done if he had known but Ned had told her that he would beg his father to talk to her's about it and she had believed him.

Then in the blink of an eye things had changed, Rhaegar and Lyanna had run off together and Ned's brother and father had been killed by the Mad King. When she learned that Ned had married Catelyn Tully to secure the allegiance of the Riverlands, she had cried all night, the betrayal had cut so deep however practical his actions might have been. But worst had yet to come, the apparent murder of her close friend Elia Martell and her children which she had helped nurse was a heavy blow but a stronger one had yet to come when Ned had come to Starfall and presented her family's ancestral sword and a word that he had killed her brother.

Her misery had made her so distraught that she had not been able to face him when he had dared show his face at her family's castle. That very night she had flung herself from the highest tower of her family's castle, intending to reunite herself with her brother and her best friend in the next life only to wake up in Qarth weeks later with no idea how she got there. A Red Woman named Kinvara had told her that the Gods had saved her life because they had a purpose for her, she had then given her a mask and told her that if she could not bear to be Ashara Dayne anymore then she should try being someone else so with that she had donned the mask and become Quaithe a name she had used for nearly twenty years.

Her days under the tutelage of Kinvara had taught her to wield powers she had never known she had and allowed her to make a life for herself in Qarth but that had all changed with the return of magic to the world in full force and now had brought her here to face the man that she had loved and who had abandoned her without so much as a letter.

Wrapping her magic around herself to render her body unnoticeable she slipped in amongst the army that had camped itself around Winterfell. They would never allow her access if she simply appeared at the gate, she could feel their fear of the war that had gripped the kingdom so harshly. Her help she hoped might make things easier for the Starks, although she was still deeply unsettled at the thought of facing Ned again. He had not broken her heart, he had smashed it completely to pieces and while she might know from her visions that this place was where she might do the most good it did not make it any easier to be here.

Her spell worked well as she moved through the castle gates without a single guard taking notice of her and through the busy courtyard into the castle.

-x-

"Twenty Five thousand men, scattered across the North my lord that is all that can be raised. The Boltons and Stannis Baratheon can field close to the same." GreatJon Umber said angrily as he and the rest of the loyalist lords took a good long look at the large map of the North that had been placed on tables in the Great hall. Small figures of wolves represented the positions of their scattered army around the North while a flayed man represented the Bolton forces and a Stag the forces of Stannis Baratheon. Ned would never openly in front of his lords' curse or lose his composure but he was sure feeling like it right now. The loss of White Harbour and the Manderlys had been a massive blow to his House and the true lords of the North, one that would haunt him for a long time. It had shifted the balance of power into a near dead lock with the Boltons, Ned knew he would need to strike swiftly to regain the initiative. However the conversation was stopped in its tracks when a cloaked figure appeared at the door.

"Guards!" Ned called out, wondering what fresh hell had descended on them now only for him to be rendered speechless at the cloaked figure dropped their hood and revealed the face of one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen, one that was as familiar to him now as it was twenty odd years ago. "Ashara!" He choked out and the lords who had been present at the tourney of Harrenhall all gaped as they too could remember the famous beauty that was supposed to be long dead.

For Ned however the blow was far more personal, seeing the woman that he had loved and lost was like a tear being made in his heart. He might have grown to be fond of Catelyn, even loved her perhaps in a strange fashion but his feelings for Ashara had always been there in the back of his mind, especially after her supposed death. He had fallen for her from the moment he had first seen her but the cold expression on her face right now stopped him for saying anything else, her fury he supposed should have occurred to him before. Another of his past regrets come back to haunt he thought mockingly.

Ashara however did not mess around and got straight down to business.

"You need to send a message to the Glovers, the mad bastard is going to try and kill them." She warned the Northern lords who all were bordering on suspicion given her sudden appearance and worry at the thought of one of the few loyal lords being attacked by the insane bastard of House Bolton Ramsay. Ashara however then dropped a real blow to Ned as she turned to face him. "And I believe that your wife is dead, killing herself so you would be free to act."

The news brought a look of horror to Robb's face and one of grief to Ned's who turned to Maester Luwin who had studied the strange situation that they had found themselves in and told him.

"Send the fastest raven you have to Deepwood Motte, I only hope we can reach Lord Glover in time." Ned then left the hall, the rest of the men looking at him with understanding and sadness while Robb went to find his wife only for the blasted Dayne woman to speak again this time to Maester Luwin.

"I think Lady Alys has just gone into labour, I think your services are required in her chambers."

Needless to say both Robb and the old Archmaester ran as fast they could to Alys' side.

Deepwood Motte, the North…

The warning from Winterfell about the possible attack by Ramsay and Roose arrived too late as Deepwood Motte found itself under attack by Bolton soldiers. Men on the walls did their best to hold them off with arrow and ballista fire but the smoke and fire of the catapults used by the Boltons had already opened considerable holes in their defences and blocked their vision.

Lord Glover looked down from the walls and grimaced as he looked at the desperate situation that he was in. Most of his army was near Ironrath, he cursed his naivety that had made him fall for Roose's bluff attack sending his army away from where it was really needed. He could see the Bolton troops were already nearly at the gaping holes in his walls and would soon take the castle. He turned and ran down the steps to the smaller gate on the other side of the castle were his wife Sybelle was getting on her horse with their infant daughter Erena strapped to her chest with the help Larence Snow, the bastard of House Hornwood and his ward. His son Gawen had apparently already left under the guard of what few men he could spare, he hoped that be splitting them up they had a greater chance of slipping away from the Boltons.

"Robett come with us please?" Sybelle begged him as she grabbed the reins of her horse tightly, desperation in her eyes as she looked to him but taking her hand and placing a quick but tender kiss upon it.

"I must cover your escape my love. Now go and do not look back." He urged her, slapping the horse for good measure so it took off followed by Larence Snow and whatever men he had left. It brought a lump to his throat to see them go but he knew that he was going to lose this battle and would not allow his family to become hostages of House Bolton. With his sword in hand and his resolve strengthened by the love he held for his family he returned to battle and arrived on the scene just as the Bolton soldiers under heavy fire from what men he had left forced their way into the castle. With a roar he charged and with sword waving almost wildly he attacked the Bolton men, intent on keeping their attention on him rather than his fleeing family. His frenzied attack put the overconfident Bolton men on the back foot and he slaughtered almost five of them before he was finally felled with an arrow to the eye, fired by a smirking Ramsay Snow.

-x-

Roose was satisfied with the capture of Deepwood Motte, he had removed a major obstacle to his plans and more importantly a supporter of the Starks from the war. True their army was still in existence but without their lord to issue orders they were no real threat. That was however until he discovered that his son had killed Lord Glover and allowed the man's children and wife to escape.

The soldier that had delivered the news cowered before the temper of their lord while he raged and demanded his son be brought to him. This was the second time Ramsay's actions had cost him dearly, first allowing nearly all their hostages to commit suicide and now this. He could not guarantee that the Glover army would not attack him now he thought with anger and was faced with the prospect of have to leave considerable forces here to defend against a possible counter attack or abandoning the castle he had lost men taking. He could replenish his losses with the army of Stannis Baratheon but it weakened him greatly to have lost so many men. The funeral pyres had been big as he like many others had taken to burning bodies now rather than leave them as possible recruits for the White Walkers if they should ever get past the Wall.

When Ramsay finally arrived, still smirking from ear to ear like he had achieved something Roose lost his temper and struck Ramsay hard on the face before telling his men while breathing rapidly.

"Hold him down, straighten out his left hand." The men did as their lord bid while Ramsay looked up furious.

"Father, get these men off me!"

"No, you allowed the wife and children of Lord Glover to escape, I told you to secure the second gate but you failed to obey me. Now I will take something you will miss until you learn your lesson." Roose told him coldly before drawing his still bloody sword and cut Ramsay's left hand clean off. Ramsay yelled out in pain as blood spurted out of the open wound and Roose added before he left the room. "If you fail me again I will take something you will miss far more." Looking intently at the area between Ramsay's legs. "Get a maester for him." Roose then said almost as an afterthought before walking out of the room, fully aware of the glaring eyes of Ramsay behind him.

Moat Cailin, the North…

Rickon Stark was unsure of what to make of the situation in the North and the Riverlands. Why he thought would houses turn on their liege lords for no apparent reason? He knew the history of House Bolton well from his lessons with Luwin but why the other houses had turned on their family as well confused him greatly. Had the Starks not ruled the North wisely for thousands of years? Had they not been good to their people? The questions spun around his mind as he grappled with them, looking around the impressive new keep where he and his brother had taken refuge so exploration could take his mind off what might be happening to his father, mother and oldest brother further North.

Coming to the godswood he was surprised to see his betrothed Wynafryd Manderly who was kneeling at the foot of the Weirwood tree. The fact she was praying unfortunately did not surprise him he thought with sadness, not after what had befallen her family at the hands of Stannis Baratheon. Her grandfather, father and uncle all burned to death on the pyres alongside icons of the Seven. And as of yet there was no news of her sister Wylla who they could only hope was being held in the dudgeons of her own ancestral home. What did surprise him however was that she was praying to the Old Gods? The Manderlys having come from the south originally were well known for worshipping the Seven regardless of how much they were mocked for it by the other Northern houses. Curious he moved closer to hear what she was saying, however stealth was not his forte and she heard him almost immediately.

"You should probably go back to your great uncle and ask him for lessons in sneaking before you try and creep up on someone Rickon Stark. Your brother is far better at it than you." Her words were sharp and showed her annoyance at being interrupted. Rickon instantly felt guilty and apologised.

"I am sorry my lady, I was just coming to see if there was anything I could do for you." Rickon said thinking quickly. His father had told him that one of the worst things you can do if someone is feeling bad is ask them if they are alright so he refrained from asking her that and chose the next question that came into his head. While it did not provoke an angry outburst like he feared it would she was still clearly irritated.

"Find my sister. Bring my father and my grandfather back from the dead." Her voice lost its irritation as she spoke as sadness took over. She looked at the Weirwood again and continued. "The Seven have never answered a single prayer, I hoped that the Old Gods might as they at least show themselves occasionally." She said thinking of the incident at Driftmark which had spread like a plague once the sailors had gotten hold of it and began their game of drunken whispers. Rickon knowing that to her the world must seem incredibly uncertain and scary right now so he came up to her and put a hand gently on her shoulder and told her.

"We will get your sister back. Shall we pray together?" He asked and Wynafryd looked uncertain of him for a moment before nodding her head slowly. Both turned to the Weirwood and began to pray, neither missing the slight shaking of the branches and leaves when they were done.

Saltpans, the Riverlands…

House Cox ruled the town called the Saltpans and had done for as long as long as the Riverlands had existed as a kingdom. The town was coastal and reasonably wealthy but that had more to do with the skill of the town's merchants than its ruling house. The family had actually accomplished so little that even after all this time they still had not gained a noble title so they remained as knights rather than lords, being that in name only.

Their army however marched alongside the Freys all the same, perhaps to finally gain the title that they wanted so much. Lady Cersei had promised them that much and more land besides but for now the town was content with the extra gold that the Frey army that had camped outside their town was bringing to their economy. Many of the men that should have been defending the town were completely drunk as were the Frey soldiers that had camped outside or had taken rooms in the taverns if they had the coin. That was soon to be something they would regret, if of course they lived through what followed.

The loud but distant roars were the first real indication that anything was wrong and everyone looked around to find the source of the noise only to see nothing at first and many thought that it was just their imagination till it happened again moments later. Men grabbed weapons but it was with clumsy hands they gripped them, many still being drunk or hung over leaving them completely unprepared as the thundering hooves of the Lannister army came over the hill and charged straight at the Frey camp and the town beyond. Men that were sober or had enough of their faculties to get into battle formations moved forward although they were ready to bolt as the size of the Lannister army became apparent, especially with the loud blowing of their battle horns. However it was not the Lannister swords and spears that delivered the first blow as over them flew two enormous dragons that overtook the horses and blasted the quivering line of men with great bursts of flame. The screams of the men were terrible but it did not affect the Lannister men, except for Sandor looked unhappily at the two huge beasts, uncomfortable with being this close to fire.

Either riding straight through the fire or around the Lannister men charged into the enemy camp with swords and spears swinging before moving onto the town. Enemy soldiers, stumbling around in a daze were completely helpless as the Lannisters attacked and the dragons intimidated the town's folk into surrender with just a few flybys. Shaena on the back of Terrax smiled as she felt the wind in her hair and broke the town's will to fight with only a few passes. She looked down, glad again that in this life she had not developed a fear of heights as she looked down the ground beneath her and saw the ruler of the town, Ser Quincy Cox and his sons riding away from the town presumably to save their own necks while their holding was taken by force. Frowning at such cowardice that instead of just surrendering they would run and leave everyone else to die (including their own wives and daughters who Shaena saw were not amongst them), she decided not to let them get away with it and urged her dragons into a dive down at the fleeing men who had not chance of escape as she unleashed her dragons' fire again.

The Frey army camped outside though was broken swiftly by the Lannisters efficient and ruthless slaughter as were the men of House Cox. However unlike some of the other battles that they had been in the Lannisters did allow men that surrendered their lives, Sandor despite his unease at being so close to the dragons found himself a nice stack of gold in the remains of the Frey camp and looked ready to enjoy it if barrels of wine and two whores at his side were any indication. Hadrian as he walked past raised an eyebrow and said with humour.

"Do not spend it all at once." Sandor responded by laughing, raising a brief salute to his liege lord before pulling the whores into his tent where they would be assured some privacy. Hadrian meanwhile had other matters to attend too. Making his way to the town's keep he could plan the next stage of their campaign to put down House Frey and his sister especially now he had the Saltpans as a logistics base to operate from for the immediate future. Looking up he saw the two dragons Terrax and Sheepstealer circling overhead with the tiny figure of Shaena just visible on the back of Terrax.

Seeing that Shaena was not going to be coming down for some time, Hadrian went to the solar that had belonged previously to House Cox and considered all the work ahead of him with a sigh. The granddaughters and grandsons of Ser Quincy that had been abandoned by their elders would need tending to, supplies would need to be acquired and their next few targets chosen. Such he thought were the burdens of leadership.

-x-

Later that day a column of men baring the same banner as the Lannister men in Saltpans arrived, ten thousand reinforcements from the Westerlands along with fresh supplies and rockets. Despite how welcome the men were given the war that lay ahead of them, Hadrian felt unsettled and would probably have looked as such if he did not hide his emotions like he did. Leading the column was Ser Raphael Daniels, a man that he had left behind to seek his revenge against Baelish. The man that had loyally stood at his side for over twenty years. Someone he might call his best friend and was hoping that he had not ruined their friendship despite leaving him behind in the faith that he would help his son if he needed it. He would soon find out however if Raphael had seen it that way. A comforting hand on his back made him turn and see Shaena smiling.

"He will understand. You had no choice." Her words brought comfort but that was soon brought to an end as Raphael dismounted his horse and walked over, his face neutral and expressionless. The two friends came face to face with each other, a tense silence followed as the people watching wondered what the two men would do next.

"Did you get it out of your system?" Raphael asked, wanting to know if his liege lord had managed to find the peace he had been lacking when he had set out on revenge.

"I did." Hadrian answered back, hoping that Raphael could understand. The knight nodded and offered his hand, a sense of relief gripped Hadrian as he took it and the two gave each other a manly hug. While they did this Raphael noticed Shaena and then the two dragons who were feasting on cattle not far away and said.

"I see you have a story to tell."

"Indeed I do, but first." Hadrian said with a smile while Shaena came forward. "This is Shaena Targaryen and the woman I intend to marry, those great beasts are her dragons; Terrax and Sheepstealer."

Raphael just shook his head, only Hadrian could go off on a mad quest for revenge and find not only a hidden princess but two dragons.

Riverrun, the Riverlands…

Cerenna Tully, formerly Lannister was looking through the lists and maps of her husband's homeland to try and find out how dire the situation was. She cursed Edmure under her breath so the guards could not hear her, she had been urging him to take the situation more seriously but he had allowed the Freys to gain more and more momentum until it had finally boiled over into a full blown uprising. So many Riverlords had gone to their side that the conflict was not looking like it was going to be possible for House Tully to win and she wondered if she was going to die. Cousin Cersei although Cerenna would never acknowledge any relation between them had clearly lost any sense of kinship and had vowed to exterminate every single member of House Tully. Cersei had even named her as being a target despite being related albeit distantly and no one had been more relieved than she had when Cousin Hadrian had sided with House Tully and brought his army and amazingly two dragons to help her put this uprising down. How he had managed that defied every piece of logic she possessed but she could not deny it was an enormous relief that they might have a chance yet in this war.

Following his advice she had reached out to whatever houses might remain loyal to her and those that had chosen to stay neutral, promising whatever she had too to get them on side and thanks to her Cousin Hadrian's backing, she had gotten a sizable army of twenty three thousand men largely from Houses like Blackwood, Mallister, Mooton and Smallwood. What she now had to decide was where to use those troops, if she was ever to be respected in the Riverlands then she was going to have to be the one to strike back against Cersei. Her husband was currently passed out drunk in their rooms after a night of mad fun with the boot lickers that followed him around and Edmure had foolishly trusted with important positions. They kept assuring him the situation was in hand, but at least she thought with some relief he had been able to do his 'husbandly duty' she thought gently rubbing her rounded stomach as the next Lord of the Riverlands grew inside her and was nearly ready to be born. She with a hand still protectively over her stomach looked down and tried to decide where to make her first attack, praising her Genna for teaching her to think for herself rather than bow to her husband's whims as her own mother had always told her to do.

Deciding to use them to raid the lands of rebel houses until a target of opportunity arose she got ready to write her messages to send by the fastest ravens.

Kings Landing, the Crownlands…

Margaery was taking her guard of Tyrell knights and Ser Clayton Archay of the Kingsguard through the areas of the city were the poorest people lived. That was not to say it was the slum she had expected though since those places had been largely cleared out by Hadrian Lannister when he had been regenerating the city, housing here was not the best quality but certainly far better than it would have been elsewhere she thought.

Arriving at the orphanage she was met by the caretakers of the children who kneeled deeply to her as she stepped off her horse.

"Your grace, we are truly honoured by your visit. The children were most excited to hear you were coming." The woman who was in charge of the place said with a gushing tone that Margaery had come to expect although she still found it odd though welcome to be referred to as 'Your Grace'. The caretaker then added. "It will be of much comfort to the children to see a face that does not frighten them as the septas and septons have been doing a lot of late." The woman added, worried at how often the Faith Militant had come around the orphanages to scare the children into following the Seven.

"It is an honour and a privilege to visit your orphanage. I make it my duty to ensure that the children had have no fathers or mothers to provide for them are given every opportunity to become whoever they want to be. I have always known love and affection from my parents, hopefully these children might at least get some hope and joy from me." Margaery said with a wide smile. While it did aid her in building a good powerbase, aiding orphans and the poor was something she enjoyed doing regardless. Their smiles and happy voices were more than worth the expense she thought with a smile, kindness was rarely forgotten by those that experienced it especially when little of it appeared elsewhere in their lives. The mention that the Faith Militant had been coming around and scaring children did bring a brief frown to her face and she told the much relieved caretaker.

"I will arrange for extra guards and issue orders for no member of the Faith to be granted entrance to the orphanages. I will not allow for children to be threatened in their own home. I will also see to it that the orphanage is restocked with regular food and the worn furniture replaced." She said sternly and with gushing thanks the caretakers led her inside the building.

As the carer takers of the children led her on a tour of the orphanage, Margaery was impressed at how much could be made off of little coin. After all these places were funded solely on the charity of the crown and the noble lords that took an interest which unfortunately had slackened somewhat in the recent years with all the political upsets and warring. She noted that some of the furniture and beds could use replacing and that their cupboards looked rather bare of food. That at least she could deal with.

Soon she arrived in the main courtyard of the building where the orphan children had been lined up to meet her. She frowned at that, she would have preferred to meet them when they were more relaxed but she thought with resignation this would have to do. Putting on her warmest and friendliest smile she spoke to the children who kept their own eyes firmly on the floor as they bowed or curtsied.

"Would you all like to hear how my husband and I fought the Dothraki on the back of a dragon?" She asked and instantly their eyes all moved upwards and they wanted to speak and beg to hear the story but for their warnings of their caretakers to behave to stop them cold. The lack of a response did dim Margaery's own joy but a little girl, no more than four name days old came over and tugged gently on her dress. Margaery looked down in surprise while the caretakers held their breath in horror that she might be offended, but Margaery just smiled at the little girl who was adorable with her dirty blonde hair and dimples.

"I would like to hear the story. Please?" The little girl asked with her luminous blue eyes near impossibly large. Margaery knelt down much to everyone's surprise so she was on a closer level to the little girl and asked.

"I would love to tell it to you. What is your name?" Margaery's heart went out to the young girl that was wearing only a very simple and worn blue dress, such a lovely child deserved to have a happy family she thought sadly and Margaery then made the decision that she was going to try and find the girl a family or at least find someone at the Red Keep who would look out for her. Surely there must be someone that would take the girl in and give her the life she deserved. She was so caught up in these thoughts that she nearly missed the girl answer her question.

"Minisa." The little girl answered and Margaery said with gentle mirth.

"Such a serious name for a little girl."

"I like my name." Minisa said suddenly cross as she perceived that Margaery was making fun of her like all the other children had. It brought a gasp to the rest of people present especially the caretakers, sure that she was going to be offended but Margaery surprised them by laughing. She then told the surprised and slightly confused Minisa in an almost conspiratorial whisper.

"I like it too. Come on." She said, gently taking the little girl's hand and leading her to the fountain in the centre of the courtyard where she settled onto a bench with Minisa in her lap and told the story to the children who settled around, completely enthralled of the idea of flying into battle on the back of a dragon.

Winterfell, the North…

Ned was staring into the fire as he brooded. He had tried not to consider the possibility but that his wife of twenty years was dead and gone at the hands of the Boltons still stabbed deeply at his heart. Whatever problems he and Catelyn had between them he knew that with time they could have worked around and address them. Now he thought depressed Catelyn would not meet their first grandchild, Alys was so close to giving birth and in fact had just gone into labour early today. Luwin and everyone had assured Robb who had taken to pacing outside the chamber that all was well but the young man would not shift from his place outside their chambers. That Catelyn was missing all this and the anticipation of the first Stark of a new generation being born was a bitter stone that had settled deep inside him and refused to be moved.

How his other children would take the news he could only guess at, Robb had retreated to his rooms with Alys and yells of anger had echoed all across Winterfell late in the night while Ned himself had become even colder and bitter. He had written the letters to his children personally, not wanting Luwin or anyone else to do it as they were his children and therefore it was his responsibility. The added dagger to the heart that was Ashara's sudden and miraculous reappearance only complicated the situation further, the former love of his life clearly held a lot of anger towards him and how could he blame her after all the things he had done. Abandoned her, killing her brother and marrying another woman after swearing he would only take her as his wife. He had hurt her deeply and now that his wife was dead he could only think the gods were punishing him for all of his past sins.

The door to his room opened and Robb entered carrying a bundle in his arms. Ned instantly got up from his seat and with wide eyes looked at the small baby in Robb's arms.

"A boy, your grandson father." Robb said with tears in his eyes proud as only a new father could be who was experiencing fatherhood for the first time despite the pain of his mother's demise that was surely below the surface. Ned both pitied and envied his eldest son, the young man had no idea of the highs and lows he was going to experience.

Smiling at the young babe and unable to find any other words Ned asked with a small smile.

"What is his name?"

"Alys and I decided on Benjen." Robb said with pride and the name nearly brought tears to Ned's eyes, the notion that his first grandchild would be named after the last of his brothers touched him more deeply than he could have expected.

"Benjen Stark." Ned said with pride as he carefully took his grandson from Robb and held him with the experienced hands of a father of five. The sight of the tiny babe with the grey eyes of a Stark peering up at him was indescribable, much like it had been when he had first held his own children. With a smile on his face Ned gently rubbed his thumb across the babe's head before his face darkened and he looked to Robb.

"What the Boltons have done to your mother and the North as a whole cannot go unpunished, it is time we reminded the North why our house's words are 'Winter is Coming'. We will do what our ancestors should have done centuries ago and wipe the Boltons from the face of the North forever." Ned said with his intent obvious and anger laced into every word. Robb nodded in agreement, it was time to strike back against the Boltons and their allies. "Gather our men and send for Yara Greyjoy, I have task for her also." Ned said, it was time to make people remember the name Stark.

The Godswood, Kings Landing…

The High Sparrow was feeling increasingly confident in the success of his crusade as he looked at the jars of green liquid that were being piled up near the symbol of the heathens, the Weirwood tree. The idea that it could be a sacred place would have made him laugh if it had not been such an insult to his own faith. Now at least he thought with relief he would finally strike a blow against the heathens and their barbaric cult of a religion.

He was however somewhat worried about the effect the new queen Margaery Targaryen was having on the people of Kings Landing. Her visits to the orphanages and ordered the guards to prevent any of his septons and septas gaining entry to try and 'convince' the children to swear to the Seven had been making strong waves amongst the common folk who were singing her praises and that of her husband who had sailed off to tear down the fanatic fire lover Stannis Baratheon. It should be him the High Sparrow fumed that had the love of the people, he was the instrument of the Seven here in this world. He had been serving and protecting their souls longer than the slip of a queen had been alive, were they so fickle that a few honeyed words and a consignment of fresh furniture and food for the orphans could turn their heads so easily? It seemed so the High Sparrow thought with anger, still he could take some comfort that all that was about to change.

The pyromancer took a gentle hold of the green jars as he went to place them against the wretched tree when they were suddenly interrupted by a group of gold cloaks. Who had summoned them? The High Sparrow thought with anger.

"That's wildfire!" One of the Gold cloaks said in horror and before he companions could stop him, the lone soldier charged towards the pyromancer shouting. "You will not threaten the true gods of Westeros!"

The lone guard collided with the pyromancer and together they flew into the pile of jars, shattering them and leaving both men soaked to the skin in the substance that instantly ignited from their body heat. Green flames moved so rapidly that the two men had no time at all as they died screaming, everyone watched paralyzed with fear as they saw the men die and be reduced to dust. But just as soon as it had started the fire died out.

The rest of the gold cloaks looked in horror at where one of their men had been just seconds before and they began to feel the rage bubbling up inside them. One of their own and more importantly a good friend had just been burnt to cinders right before their eyes, all due to this barefooted bastard that dared call himself holy. Without any hesitation the unit sergeant came forward and delivered a strong right hook to the High Sparrow who had been in complete awe of what he had just seen and was instantly winded and unable to resist as the manacles were locked around his wrists.

"We are taking you to Lord Tyrion and Queen Margaery. They will judge you, count your blessings I will not spill blood in a holy place." The Sergeant hissed into the High Sparrow's ear before dragging him by the chains on his manacles through the city streets.

-x-

The jeers and rotten fruit that were thrown at the High Sparrow as he was dragged through the city streets were a strong reminder to the man about how low both he and his faith had fallen in recent months and years. His rough white robes were stained with all the rotten fruit thrown at him while his legs and feet were soon bleeding from being dragged over the stone of the city streets. But the wound to his pride was the worst as the humiliation of being dragged through the streets like a common criminal bruised his ego and dented his confidence. If the Seven had a hand in this, he could only think that they were teaching him a lesson in humility so he would learn from their teaching and continue his attempts to reinforce their will on the people. So he straightened his back as they arrived at the Red Keep and moved through the passages till they reached the throne room.

The courtiers all made the High Sparrow sick to his stomach as he saw them milling around the room in their fine and expensive garments while they sipped on wine and slept with whores. He would make all of them face the judgement of the Seven he thought will heady anticipation. Still in the grip of his own delusions he turned towards the throne were he could see the new 'queen' Margaery Targaryen although in his mind she was still a Tyrell as she had not married the new king under the Seven and was little more than a whore, sleeping with a man outside the marriage bed. At her side as she sat on the Iron Throne the demon imp stood looking at him with withering contempt, that made the temper of the High Sparrow raise even higher like he was the unnatural one, the whoring drunk.

"Your grace we caught this man trying to burn down the Godswood with wildfire. And he killed one of our men with his accursed liquid." The Gold cloak sergeant said with anger and the entire room gasped and started talking amongst themselves furiously over what had just been revealed while Margaery's eyes widened before narrowing as she looked down the High Sparrow who likewise gazed at her.

Ever the woman of the people Margaery made her statement with them in mind.

"What you have done is inexcusable. There are no words that can save your neck, everyone in Westeros is free to practice whatever faith they wish. Your attempts to force everyone to worship the Seven are a personal affront to the liberty of everyone that lives and that you would use wildfire to not only destroy a symbol of faith but murder a man reveals to all of us that you are nothing more than a madman, one that the world will be glad to be rid of." Margaery said as she rose from the throne where she sat in her husband's absence. The High Sparrow, unafraid to die merely glares as he prepared to speak but suddenly a blow from the sergeant to his throat stopped him cold and left him gagging for breath. While the High Sparrow was gasping for breath and the court dancing to their queen's words Tyrion jumped in with his suggestion.

"Your grace, perhaps it would be better to simply ensure the High Sparrow…disappears. He does not deserve to become a martyr to whatever band of thugs and fanatics he calls his followers so we do not allow him the public display he clearly wants." His words were carefully delivered, Tyrion had not anticipated this scenario but it was a sign that the gods were on his side, however much of an irony that was he thought with derision.

Margaery looked at him intently for a moment and Tyrion could almost see the wheels turning in her head as she tried to pick his words apart to discover any hidden intentions that he might have. Tyrion certainly thought she was an improvement on the previous queen, this one actually had a clever mind in her head. This assumption was only reinforced when she gave him a nod and told him.

"See it done Lord Tyrion. I never want to see him or his kind in Kings Landing ever again." Her normal voice so sweet and tender now was cold and strong with the strong will that lurked behind the rosy façade. Tyrion nodded in return and thought that he might like this new queen after all.

-x-

"Where are you taking me? Some quiet beheading in a damp cell?" The High Sparrow asked as he was dragged down into the Black Cells by a few of Tyrion's sellswords, ahead of the man himself. Tyrion however did not answer the question and they kept descending lower and lower into the earth below the Red Keep. The High Sparrow did not let that stop him from talking however. "It does not matter what you do to me, the Light of the Seven will shine over Westeros again and the rest of you and the heathens will burn in the Seven Hells while I ascend to join with the true gods of the world." The High Sparrow said with complete assurance, not in the least afraid to die. But Tyrion did not intend to kill him, not yet.

Arriving at the cell in the lowest part of the Black Cells, the men threw the High Sparrow into the cell which seemed far larger than it really was in the dark with the only illumination now coming from the torch at the wall opposite the cell door. The man scrambled to his feet but did not see the executioner and his sword around. Tyrion fed up of the High Sparrow simply said.

"Let us see if your gods can get you out of this." And Tyrion then slammed the door firmly shut and locked it.

The High Sparrow suddenly realised what Tyrion intended to do and if he or indeed anyone else had been able to see him in the complete darkness of the cell, they would have noticed all the colour draining from his face. He stumbled in the pitch black of the cell to try and find the door and became completely disorientated as he tried to find his way around merely by touch. Already in his mind the images from his nightmares were forming in the dark to torment him and he started to pray desperately to the Seven for deliverance, something that would not come until his old body succumbed to dehydration.

Tyrion turned to the stone masons he had brought with him and stepped back as they went to work, bricking up the cell door, leaving only a tiny gap for air to enter so the High Sparrow did not get off so lightly with suffocation. He might have simply had the man killed if he had not called his wife Tysha a whore and their children demon spawn over the course of Tyrion's campaign, the mere remembrance of the word directed at his wife never mind their children made him furious enough to strangle the life out of the old fossil. His remaining followers would be arrested as soon as he could arrange it for whatever crimes he could make stick.

Brutal work Tyrion thought, but finally the Faith Militant was vanquished. Hopefully things would finally settle down…at least after Stannis was dealt with Tyrion thought with hope as he left the Black Cells once the work was done.

Barrowton, the North…

Ned led the column of infantry and cavalry forward through the hills towards Barrowton, a large town and chief holding of House Dustin and one of his primary opponents in the civil war. He had bolstered his forces on the flanks as they marched on, his eyes wide and alert for any sign of the enemy. He had chosen this route specifically because the Dustin scouts were sure to discover them, he might not be as good at tactics as his old friend Robert had been but he was not a fool either. He only hoped Lady Dustin was arrogant enough to take the bait.

Through the breeze and quiet hills he could hear the men of House Dustin as they moved out from the hills behind them. Ned gritted his teeth as he drew his sword, Ice and the men he had been leading turning around looking unsurprised. This had been discussed with the unit captains beforehand to ensure their men did not panic in the face of the expected ambush.

Ned's men drew their spears and formed a vicious wall just as planned which slowed the Dustin attack almost to halt but then Ned took a large horn off his belt and blew hard into it creating a blast of noise that was audible for a long way around just as intended. The area was silent for a moment after that as the Dustin soldiers looked around to see what on earth the Stark lord was trying to do but that was soon apparent as the air was filled with the thundering sound of horses and charging men. The Dustin soldiers looked around and saw a large force of men rushing up from behind them and not just men. A number of horsemen and giants thundered alongside the Free Folk infantry force, terrifying the Dustin men who listened intently as they were enveloped and Ned delivered his terms.

"Men of House Dustin, you are good men and loyal to your lady. But she is not loyal to you for she has condemned by siding with House Bolton and Stannis Baratheon against the true lords of the North House Stark. They would seek power when we should be seeking food for the coming winter, when we need to stand together they would divide us. So I offer you this choice, bend the knee to me and join our fight against the barbaric House Bolton, who kidnap and hold good people hostage to force the co-operation of their families. Who flay men and women alive to decorate their halls and assisted Stannis Baratheon, the fire loving fanatic that burned alive the members of House Manderly a noble house that had done him no harm and invaded the North itself! It is up to you." Ned said loudly to the gathered men in front of him. Many looked unsettled, more inclined then they would like to admit to turn on their lady who had sided with the man that had sacked White Harbour for no real reason and murdered a lot of people by burning them to death. Many had not liked the actions of the Baratheon king but were too scared of their lords to do anything about it but faced with death here and now they were seriously considering defecting to the Starks. A chance to avoid their homes being ransacked was a definite point in favour of defecting and some men began to drop their weapons.

Fury however gripped Beron, a loyal servant of Lady Dustin and a leader of her men at arms. He without warning charged straight at the Stark lines, the men around him in disbelief that the man could be that foolish, a point that was proved only a second later when one of the giants Wun Wun grabbed him by the head and swung the screaming man around like a sack before throwing him almost carelessly against the rocky hills around them where his head split open like an overripe fruit and brains splattered all over the ground around him.

Seeing this display shocked everyone, even Ned and Robb but had a dramatic effect on the Dustin soldiers who stared wide-eyed at what had just happened to one of their greatest warriors and without any hesitation began throwing their weapons to the ground. Robb and the rest of the men cheered and began to gather the discarded weapons and shields handing many to the poorly equipped Wildlings.

Ned remained completely stoic as they did this, as cool as the land which he called his home. His ambush had gone better than expected, now all that remained was bring Barrowton to heel.

-x-

Barrowton was one of the largest towns in all of the North and was the primary reason that House Dustin had become as powerful as it had but the sight of their own army marching disarmed surrounded by soldiers of House Stark took the fight out of the settlement, letting them past without interference until they came to the walls of Barrow Hall, the castle of House Dustin. It was a much smaller castle than Winterfell with walls nowhere near as high but Ned noticed still had a number of archers on them. Turning to the best archer in his own archer, the Free Folk girl Ygritte and told her.

"Keep those archers under cover, give the battering ram to Wun Wun." Ned ordered and Ygritte surprised him by laughing.

"You call those boys archers? It is good I find you so funny Lord Stark otherwise I would be insulted." She said with a cheeky smile that nearly made Ned sigh in exasperation but he restrained himself as Ygritte and her hunters began with their own bows to fire arrows at the men on the walls with frightening accuracy, even managing to pick off a few while Wun Wun with a bloodthirsty smile on his face picked up a long shaft of Ironwood that would have taken five normal men to lift and charged straight at the wooden doors that kept them from entering the castle.

The first hit made the doors stagger, the men inside were startled as the second hit broke large bits out of thick wooden door, many of them looked around as if they thought they might find another exit only to realise that they were trapped by the same walls that kept their enemies out. Some went for their weapons but it was with quivering hands that they held them, not understanding how they had gone from being so secure to vulnerable so quickly.

When Wun Wun on his third swing bashed the remains of the door off of its hinges and burst through followed by Wildlings and Stark men, many of them froze not having a clue how to deal with a giant let alone all the men at its back. Some just gave up and threw down their weapons, the fight leaving them. Some decided to charge as Lord Stark and his son Robb entered in full plate and furs with swords already in hand.

Ned with the skill of an experienced soldier easily parried the clumsy strikes from the foolish guardsmen and cut them down with Robb exercising all the training he had put in since the Battle of the Wall to cut down the guards that dared attack him. After that the last of the Dustin men dropped the weapons.

With a quick survey of the yard, Ned was all business as he gave his orders to his men and Robb.

"Strip the Dustin men and the castle of any armour and steel weapons you can find. The Free Folk need proper weapons and equipment if they are going to be able to assist us in this war. Robb send a raven to Winterfell confirming our capture of the castle and have the smiths work on making armour for the giants. That would make a fearsome sight indeed." Ned said, Robb nodded and went to carry out his orders while Ned walked into the castle that he had captured without any real difficulty intent on finding the lady of the castle, Lady Barbery Dustin.

When he finally found her she was in her private solar and Ned frowned when he remembered the letters his older brother Brandon had written to him about her. She was a tall woman and handsome in her strength and dignity but there was a deep bitterness about her as she looked on him that he could well understand. Both he and his family had inflicted much pain on her over the years; starting with Brandon's seduction of her and later death before the death of her husband and brothers in the war and his own personal failure to bring their bodies home. Why he had done that? Ned honestly asked himself and he could not find an answer, his mind had been in such a muddle at the time with the revelations Lyanna had told him and her death, not to mention having to worry about Jon's safety and it had seemed the most sensible thing to do. Something he had come to regret over the years and now it seemed had come back to haunt him.

"Lord Stark, I take it my men are laying in a pit somewhere out in the countryside? Or have you actually done the decent thing and brought their bodies' home this time?" Barbery asked him with bitterness in her deep and cultured voice. Ned however did not let her words get to him and said.

"Most of them were so disgusted by your choice of allies they defected at the first opportunity. Given what the Boltons and Stannis Baratheon have brought to the North I would have thought it was expected. But then again revenge has blinded better and smarter people to a better path, you certainly were. Not only have you brought down destruction on yourself but when I am done here I will ensure that House Ryswell is next to feel our swords ending your line and that of your father forever." His own voice had grown a great deal colder as he spoke and Lady Barbery had narrowed her eyes at him.

"We die without regret, nothing you can do to us will compare to what past injustices go unpunished." Barbery told him and drew a dagger. Seeing the threat Ned raised his sword but as the woman looked like she was going to charge him an arrow soared just a finger's width away from his ear and struck Lady Barbery Dustin right between the eyes. Turning around in surprise Ned saw Ygritte standing there and she gave him a brief shrug.

Ned now with a bad taste in his mouth decided to leave the room, giving orders as he went to get some fresh air.

"Have the body burned and its ashes put in the family crypts." He would not allow her to be buried as was the normal custom given the coming of the White Walkers. He would not give the accursed ice demons another soldiers for their undead army.

-x-

Robb meanwhile was still searching the castle for any remaining troops or useful information and was just about to end his brief check of the castle's dudgeons when a moan from one of the cells alerted him to someone being held there. Opening the door with caution it was soon apparent that there was no danger as the sole occupant of the cell was a ragged looking man with an overgrown beard and dressed in what had once been a red tunic and breeches of good quality but now hung off an emancipated frame. The man's eyes however were alert and as sharp as ever as he looked up and did his best to bow to Robb.

"Lord Stark, I Ser Kyle Condon would thank you greatly if you would free me from this cell. There is much I would discuss with you and your father." The thin bearded man said, identifying himself and Robb nearly did a double take as he stared long and hard at the man that had accompanied Lord Cerwyn to the last harvest feast at Winterfell. He had been a lean and fit man not too many years older than Robb himself with a trimmed beard and a loud but joyful laugh. Not the man in front of him that looked like he had aged decades since Robb had last seen him.

"Of course Ser Condon." Robb said and released the knight from his manacles and gave him his own cloak which Ser Condon gratefully took. However the knight had an important piece of information that he had to pass on immediately, concerning his own lord.

"Thank you Lord Stark, I am glad to call you my future liege lord but I have to report that there are a number of prisoners being held at the Dreadfort to force the compliance of Northern houses. Lord Cerwyn was being held there to force his son's hand in supporting the Boltons but Ramsay Snow has flayed Lord Medger Cerwyn alive and is now trying to cover it up. I saw it all before I was moved here." Ser Condon said with a voice full of hatred but although Robb was appalled to hear what had befallen the previous Lord Cerwyn it did present an opportunity for them to exploit.

"Ser Condon." Robb said as he helped the weak man to his feet. "I need you to write a letter to Cley Cerwyn as soon as possible, if we move quickly then we might be able to save your lord's son. And if you could tell us which houses sided willingly with the Boltons it would be most appreciated." Robb added, it would certainly help to know where to best target their strikes.

He also hoped the idea that he had just had might swing the war in their favour, at least more so than it was now. While he desperately wanted to be home with Alys and their son, he knew that for them to be safe he had to keep going.

-x-

Ned meanwhile was on the castle walls, getting a most welcome breath of fresh, cold air after that business with Lady Dustin. He did not enjoy wiping out entire dynasties, especially as the last Lord Dustin had been a good friend to him but he could not afford open rebellion in his lands while the harshest winter in centuries was on its way and worst the White Walkers were going to descent on them. He would need every man he could get to fight them, that was the reason he had spared the Dustin men.

He was about to go back inside and discover how the search of the castle was going when he noticed a commotion in yard, looking down he saw Mance Rayder and his wife Dalla and some of their men surrounding a cage where a loud growling could be heard. Curious about what was the source of the all the commotion he moved quickly down the nearby steps into the yard.

"What on earth is going on?" Ned asked as he pushed gently through the crowd to finally get a look at what was going on. When he finally did his breath caught in his throat.

Inside a cage with a broken open door was a magnificent black direwolf, it was an older one that his own children's judging by its size and had the most intense looking red eyes. It was a fearsome looking beast Ned thought in awe but it did not lunge or strike out at the men and women around its cage. Instead it sat inside and growled at anyone that dared approach it.

Ned did not know why but despite the warnings of the people around him, he walked slowly towards vicious looking wolf that would surely have savaged him in an instant. However after a small growl the magnificent wolf just turned its head to look at him with interest, its red eyes looking at him with curiosity. This curiosity allowed Ned to get close enough to gently run his hand along the wolf's head and scratch behind its ears. The wolf instantly showed how much it enjoyed this by its tail wagging with a heavy thump against the metal on the cage and gave Ned a rough but tender lick on the face causing the men around to laugh. Ned meanwhile was unable to explain the sensations he had begun to experience while petting the wolf. It was almost as if he could see through its eyes, feel 'his' impulses and hear through his ears. Was this what his own children felt their own direwolves? Ned wondered and decided that this was to be his wolf.

"Ranger. I shall call you Ranger. Is that okay?" Ned asked the wolf who responded by licking his face again.

"You Starks and your direwolves, I would not be surprised if this wolf was the father of your children's wolves." A voice said as Ned got up, still scratching Ranger behind the ears. Turning around it was Mance Rayder who had said it, earning a laugh from the men around him and Ned while too stoic to be embarrassed did need to talk to Mance. So he decided there was no time like the present and discussed a decision he had made just then in the heat of the moment.

"Mance Rayder I need someone to hold this castle once myself and my army depart to hunt down more Bolton supporters. If you are willing then I will name you its new lord and raise House Rayder to take the place of House Dustin as one of my strongest vassals." Ned said, shocking the former member of the Nights Watch and King Beyond the Wall as well as the men around him, but in Ned's mind at least it was a good choice. Mance was a smart and cunning man and someone that could be counted on when the situation was dire, who better to make the new lord of Barrowton. Mance appeared speechless for a moment but his wife Dalla was not and slapped him on the face and answered in his place, shocking Ned and the rest of the men around.

"He would be honoured Lord Stark and I swear our house will stand firm with yours. Oh that sounds good." Dalla said as she suddenly came up with her new house's words. "Standing Firm. That will do, that will do very nicely. And our banner will be two Spears locked over a lute, that way it reflects both me and Mance. What do you think?" Dalla asked her husband however her tone was so forceful that no one could honestly call it a question.

"Yes of course my love." Mance said distantly while he glared at the sniggering men around him. Still though, it was going to be nice having a castle of his own to past down to his own son.

Goldgrass, the North…

It was a bittersweet moment for Yara as she moved silently through the woods near the castle of House Stout with a group of the best hunters and fighters in the Wildling camp to ambush the men of House Stout in the woods. It was great to be leading an attack again she thought with pride, she was never going to be beautiful or so she had been told but that did not matter to her. She enjoyed the thrill of battle, hitting your enemy and taking them for everything that they had.

But it was not the same, she thought with sadness. Not like when she had been a raider captain for the Iron Born. The thrill of the wind in her hair, the rocking of the ship and the rush of a quick but brutal fight. This ambush in the woods was nothing like that she thought but still it was good to be in a genuine fight again she thought as she moved quietly between the trees and slit the throat of another Stout soldier while the Wildling archers and spearwives at her side quietly and efficiently cut down the other groups of men that were moving through the forest trying to find them. Yara admired their skill, they were warriors she thought, like her.

Leaking their presence in the forest had been her own idea, drawing the men of House Stout out of their protective castle and into the forest where Yara and her people had the advantage. One that she was proud of and their enemy had fallen for her trap like the most gullible fools imaginable.

If it would not give away their position Yara would have loved to have laughed out loud but contented herself with a wide grin as they continued their ambushes and waited until next night fell and when they would use the armour and cloaks that they had acquired to try and sneak inside Goldgrass and take the castle for themselves although the name made her smile turn into a sneer.

Goldgrass she thought with derision. What a stupid fucking name. But that was quickly dismissed as she came across Lord Stout himself and with a smile she moved in for the kill. The fat fuck had no idea she was even there until she was right behind him and drew a red smile across his throat with her dagger while her follow warrior women took care of his personal guards.

-x-

The timing of their attack on Goldgrass was perfect as that night there was no moon in the sky and only the stars and torches provided light to see by. Perfect then for Yara and her people to move in their stolen clothing through the open castle gates. Seeing the colours of House Stout and with the light so low they could not see their faces clearly, at least until they were through the gates.

Yara and her people the instant they were inside the small castle's walls threw off their stolen clothes and readied their weapons. With Red Rain in hand Yara with a wild yell of abandon started cutting down any of the surprised guards that were left. The blood lush in her mixing perfectly with the wildlings around her who like her were enjoying the experience immensely. It was a genuine thrill that had Yara's heart thundering in her chest as she enjoyed the high of battle again.

As Yara cut her way through two guards to gain entrance to the keep of the castle she wondered if Lord Stark might let her keep it when they were done. She could be hope.

White Harbour, the North…

Stannis Baratheon stood above a table with the map showing the situation as it stood in the North and the Riverlands. The re-emergence of the Targaryens had caught him completely by surprise, from nowhere they had come over from Essos and seized Kings Landing with no opposition where he had failed although just the memory of his attempt to take the city made him grit his teeth so hard that they might break. It might have been a good thing if they had been fighting with the Lannisters keeping them distracted in the south but instead they had proven how cowardly the supposed lions were, just giving up rather than risk their own necks. However the dragons coming back were something that Stannis would never have predicted in a thousand years. The great beasts of destruction that had won the Targaryens the Seven Kingdoms the first time where something he had no idea still existed and worse he had no way to fight against. The fact made him want to scream but he kept himself under firm control as he desperately looked for a way to turn the odds in his favour. Worse the Starks had just forced him into a stalemate in the War for the North while in the Riverlands the Lannisters and two dragons had begun to prey on his allies down there. Whichever way he turned there seemed to be another obstacle or enemy in his path that he would have to tear down. Still it was not in his nature to give up and run, so he would find a way to win, Stannis thought with determination and got back to work. It might be time he thought to head out to fight the Starks himself. But then he saw a report of Umber raids on his conquered lands, his headache sharpening as he knew he would have to deal with them before he could launch any kind of concentrated attack on the Starks.

-x-

In corner of a nearby bedroom that had once belonged to Wylis Manderly, Melisandre was curled up in the foetal position as she stared intently at the flames in the grate. Her expression was frantic and filled with desperation as she stared so intently at the flames that the light was hurting her eyes.

"Please there must be a way." She said quietly, her voice scared as she saw the same vision again and again. The Azor Ahai was going to perish at the hands of the wolves, lions and dragons. Regardless of how hard she focused or what method she used the result was the same.

Stannis Baratheon was going to lose this war and die.

She saw it happening in different ways but always ending with his death. Sometimes he assaulted Winterfell and died at the hands of the Starks, other times the Lions rode him down on the plains or blasted him with their rockets. Recent visions had even shown her dragons tearing him to pieces or incinerating him with their fire. No matter what way she tried it always ended the same, there was no way to prevent it.

Why? She thought with dread as tears flowed down her face and she held her head in her hands. Why had her god forsaken this world by allowing the Azor Ahai to die? Surely he did not want the ancient enemy to win did he? She thought with terror but then just as she looked up at the fire again she saw something, a figure fighting against the White Walkers with a flaming sword just as the legends said but this time she was able to see his face and it brought a gasp of horror to her.

Stannis Baratheon was not the Azor Ahai.

And everything she had done for his cause had merely weakened the world to the White Walkers, great shame filled her up and new tears began to fall from her eye, her will shattered into a million pieces.

It had all been for nothing.

The Great Weirwood, Sea Dragon Point…

The Three Eyed Raven watched the developing Northern and Riverlands Civil War distain. When they knew the great enemy was coming to kill them all, some would still rather fight for power and wealth, thinking only of their short term gain when in the long term they would all lose. The selfish nature of man that he had seen in his visions of men since the beginning of time only broke his heart and briefly he wondered if humans as a race were worth saving. But that thought was quickly crushed as he resolved to deal with the situation he had been presented with.

Already he was placing protective wards around the Great Tree and the Wildling settlement to ensure their safety from the Boltons and their supporters in the current war and of course to ensure the great tree survived. The great tree would yet he sensed have a part to play in the war that would follow.