33

Chapter 33 – Return and Counter Strikes

Multiple locations, the North and Riverlands…

Two of the Seven Kingdoms were held firmly in the grip of chaos; no House was able to stay neutral although some tried with a fierce desperation to stay out of the fighting only to end up involved any way. House Slate attacked House Bole, a small family with small lands in hope of an easy victory but fought them to near mutual extinction. House Grell of the Riverlands and House Chambers met near the Stony Sept and likewise few left the battlefield alive. Four houses, small ones but families all the same wiped out forever.

Ironrath, the North…

The cold of the coming winter was hard on Sybelle and Erena Glover as they and what men that they had left finally came into sight of Ironrath, the home of House Forrester and the nearest safe haven for miles. The sight of the Glover army camped around its walls along with the Forrester's own small force was a truly welcoming sight indeed and made Sybelle hold her daughter closer as she sighed in relief. At her side was young Larence Snow who had escorted them here as best he could and while many would look down on a bastard she could not fault the young man who had been prepared to shield both her and her baby daughter with his own life.

As they arrived at the camp's limits they were met by a concerned looking Lord Gregor Forrester who had never been such a welcome a sight to Sybelle as he was at the moment.

"Lady Glover, when we heard what had happened at Deepwood Motte we feared the worst." Lord Gregor said relieved a stable hand came out to care for their horses as they gently slid off, grateful to have firm ground under their feet after hours of riding. Checking on her infant daughter Sybelle was relieved to see that Erena was sleeping snugly against her chest, completely oblivious to the changes that had rocked their world. Lord Gregor took control of the situation and she allowed herself to be led inside where Lady Elissa Forrester greeted her warmly.

"Lady Glover, please take a place by the fire and warm yourself. I will have a room prepared for you and a hot meal. Do not worry, my husband will not let what has befallen your house to go unavenged." Elissa reassured Sybelle as she gently steered her in front of a warm fire which eased Sybelle's aching bones although the warming of her body and the relief of sitting down in a comfy chair did little to ease the pain that was taking firm root in her soul. Her son should have beaten her here but he was nowhere to be found and in her heart she was terrified over what might have befallen him. Her husband was almost certainly dead she thought cradling her daughter closer, she might well be all that she had now Sybelle thought as a cloud of depression settled over her.

-x-

Larence Snow was gently feeding his horse while he thought hard on the situation in the North. The balance of power seemed to be evening out with the Starks beginning to regain lost ground against the Boltons and Stannis Baratheon but the fate of his homeland still hung in the balance. He thought to all the families that had taken sides thus far and wondered how any of them would prefer the flaying Boltons and the fire crazed Baratheon to the kind and honourable Starks. He wondered what his own father Lord Hornwood must be thinking as he had apparently decided to declare neutrality, but given his castle's proximity to the Dreadfort how long would the Boltons accept that? How long before House Hornwood was forced to choose a side? He turned to his horse and gently patted it, resolving to himself that in the morning he would ride for his ancestral home and speak to his father about just what their role was too be, he could not in good conscience allow his family's army to be used against the true rulers of the North. So it was up to him to make sure that his father made the right choice.

Moat Cailin, the North…

Bran was holding his younger brother tight as the piece of parchment lay forgotten on the floor. But its contents never would be, the warm tears that were falling down Rickon's face as he was hit by the shock and grief of his mother's sudden death.

Bran himself however while he too was shaken by grief and shock of his mother's death but there was anger too, burning anger that was nearly making his body shake with rage were it not for the fact that his little brother needed comfort more than he needed to let it loose. His hatred was not solely directed at the Boltons and their lackeys though, he now held a degree of resentment and anger towards the Three Eyed Raven as well. He had asked the Raven time and again where his mother was and had not received a clear answer only that she was 'alive'. If he had known where she was being held he might have been able to tell his father who could have rescued her or Lord Lannister could have used his magic to bring her to safety, now he thought with anger it was too late.

He knew he would have to talk to the Raven again, for the sake of everyone when the White Walkers came but for the next couple of days he was staying firmly away from the Weirwood.

Ser Brynden Tully meanwhile was in the yard, using his sword to cut a practice dummy to splinters using his imagination to make it look like the bloody Boltons! He would have revenge on whoever had killed his niece…his breathing hard as he made his vow. He swore it!

-x-

Casterly Rock, the Westerlands…

Many miles away his actions and thoughts were being echoed in the mind of his youngest great-niece, Arya Stark who was using all her rage and anger to destroy practice dummies just like Brynden was. Her rage was making her act more like a raging beast than the young woman she was, her future husband Tyler Lannister watched concerned from the side, especially when he saw Arya using her magic purely by instinct setting things alike as the fire inside her leaked to the outside. He waved his hand a shower of water sprayed over the fires that had started all around, causing Arya to turn and around and without thinking move onto the attack. Needle slashed out while her Lady Talon lunged in, Tyler with razor sharp reflexes born of years of training dodged the two attacks and blasted Arya with a disarming charm, causing both of her weapons to fly out of her hands. She probably could have prevented him doing that he realised if she had been in full control of herself but her rage was so great that she was operating mostly by instinct.

A fact proved moments later when rather than go for her weapons or blast him with magic as she was surely capable of doing she leapt at him with hands outstretched, ready he was sure to tear his throat out but he was unlike her actually thinking and caught her wrists with ease, taking a firm hold before pulling her into a position where she could not threaten him. She struggled terribly but her eyes, red and bloodshot were already glistening with tears and as he held her in tight hold her struggles grew weaker until finally she could not hold the tears at bay no longer and finally collapsed in his arms as her terrible sobbing started.

Knowing the pain of losing a mother so suddenly himself and knowing that the danger had passed, Tyler gently released her wrists and pulled her into a close hug while his hands gently stroked her hair in an effort to provide some degree of comfort. Something that Arya would once have rejected out of hand but this time she desperately lent into his warm and solid body as she finally allowed her grief to surface.

-x-

Brightwater Keep, the Reach…

Sansa was enjoying the day while her husband was out in the yard again, she liked the moderately sized castle that was now her husband's and enjoyed walking around the gardens and smelling the sweet scents of the flowers. Something that sadly would soon no longer be possible as winter was coming and already they were making their stores ready for the cold. For a Northern always took winter seriously she thought with some irony, it had taken her getting involved in the games of the south to find her own inner Northern steel. It made her laugh to the surprise of everyone in range to hear it.

Coming into the solar that technically belonged to her husband but she used more than he, Sansa prepared to look over the stash of letters that had piled up and sat down to deal with them. The first one she picked was the most recent and to her surprised it was addressed from Winterfell, she opened the letter thinking it was from her father to congratulate her on her nuptials only for her smile to disappear as she read the careful lines of script.

The letter was put back on the desk while Sansa got to her feet almost in a trance, her face completely still and her eyes almost glassy. She walked slowly over to the rug where her legs failed and she fell to her knees where she put her hands to her face and tried to understand how this could have happened. No tears fell, she could not find them the only real thing she would feel for a very long time was shock at what had happened to her mother. When that shock wore off she would feel the pain and loss but for the moment she could not accept it.

Hornwood, the North…

Larence Snow looked at the castle he had not seen since he was a young boy and it brought a chill down his spine that was nothing to do with the cold winter air around him. He was not sure that this was such a good idea now that he had arrived, he had no idea how his father and the rest of the trueborn members of House Hornwood would respond to him. They could just as easily hate him as welcome him as a member of their family. He knew he would have to face them if he had any chance of convincing them to side with House Stark but it was proving more daunting in reality and would take courage to accomplish. He almost considered for a moment turning back to swear his sword to House Forrester but for the sake of Lord Glover who had treated him almost as a member of his own family, Larence walked forward to the main gates where the guards stepped to block his path.

"Halt, who wishes to entre Hornwood?" The guard demanded and Larence rallied his courage before saying.

"Larence Snow, the son of Lord Hornwood and brother to his heir Daryn. I wish to speak to my father." Larence said impressing himself in how strong he made his voice sound when in reality he was quaking inside. The guards looked to one another briefly before they stepped aside so he could enter, feeling very much like he had passed the first hurdle in what was looking to be a very daunting race Larence walked forward into the castle yard and saw many men training for battle. This both excited and worried him, it seems that his father had taken steps to prepare his army for battle but Larence worried that he might fight for the wrong side.

The men took little notice of him, probably thinking him some new recruit that had come to the castle for training, Larence with limited recollection walked past the men training into the keep and towards the great hall where he hoped to find his father, Lord Hornwood.

It did not take long to find it, many Northern castle's had a similar design that echoed from their early history. As Larence entered the hall he saw his father sitting on a throne like chair at the other end looking much the same as he had the last time he had seen him albeit with some more grey in his hair now, beside him Lady Hornwood stood imperiously while his half-brother Daryn stood by her.

"My son! Welcome home." Lord Hornwood said with joy easing Larence's fears somewhat but the cold nod of greeting he got from Lady Hornwood did little to dampen his spirits. What really cheered his heart however was the fact that his half-brother Daryn came forward and gave his brother a hug in welcome Larence returned it eagerly, glad to have his brother's welcome.

"It is good to finally meet you brother." Daryn said with a smile that Larence returned.

"Thank you father. Thank you…brother." Larence said before he turned to Lord Hornwood and said. "I just came from Ironrath, Lord Forrester and Lady Glover send their regards." Larence caught a look of unease on his father's face when he mentioned Lady Glover. Guilt for not helping he wondered?

"Yes, nasty business that." Lord Hornwood said quietly which instantly made Larence realise that he had no interest in getting involved in the war, probably out of fear of Roose Bolton so he decided to give his father something to think about.

"Yes, Roose Bolton might be bad but Ramsay his bastard son is in a whole other league. He enjoys flaying people alive and torturing them for no reason other than his own twisted pleasure. He even feeds people to his dogs from what I hear. I dread to think what might happen when his father dies and he has free reign over the North. I only hope that without your army the Starks can stop him. We could make all the difference." Larence said, his brother Daryn looking at him with surprise and then joy while Lady Hornwood was regarding him with curiosity. His father Lord Hornwood looked ashamed and then left the room quietly.

Larence could only hope that his father made the right decision.

The Great Sept of Baelor, Kings Landing…

The Sept of Baelor was almost deserted now that the High Sparrow had been arrested and sent only the gods knew where. The few septons that remained where nearly too scared to leave the building as they were jeered at and objects were thrown at them wherever they went. They were just waiting for the men of the Lord Hand to come here and arrest them all. So far they seemed to have been forgotten but for how long they wondered in fear.

One of the younger Septons was looking through their small larder and seeing how little food there was left in the Sept, he decided to see if he might find something that they could trade for food given how little coin remained to them as he really did not want to trade any of their relics but they had to eat. When he looked into one of the storage rooms in the deepest part of the Sept he was astonished to find jars of green liquid lining the shelves. He was so surprised that when he realised just what the substance in the jars was he stumbled back right into a shelf of the jars, knocking it and the jars of wildfire to the floor where they broke and soaked everything around but when the torch he had been holding fell from his hand into the green liquid below that was when everything ended.

The explosion was so loud that it was heard for miles, the entire Sept was engulfed by green fire destroying it completely. Rubble was sent flying far and wide causing whoever had been unlucky enough to be close enough to the Sept when it had exploded to be hit and killed or have to run in search of cover.

-x-

Margaery was enjoying a day in the gardens that overlooked the city and Blackwater Bay. Her efforts to support the city's orphanages were proceeding well and her name was become well liked around the city, already people were singing both her and her husband's praises for different reasons; her's being her charity and kindness, Jon for his devotion to his mother's family and quest to end Stannis Baratheon and his pack of fire loving madman. She knew that it could all vanish in an instant if the wrong move was made but for the moment things were going just as planned.

The sound of the explosion made her and the Kingsguard knights at her side jump in surprise with the men instantly going for their swords, fearing an attack. But with none coming they quickly turned towards the city, the source of the explosion and saw the large bloom of smoke rising from the site where the Great Sept stood.

Margaery would not honestly be able to describe the thoughts that ran through her mind when she saw the smoke rising from the heart of the city, it was an immense jumble of different things but she did not hesitate as she realised the gravity of the situation and turned to Ser Clayton Archay.

"Get the gold cloaks down there to investigate how many people are hurt and begin a search and rescue operation for any who might be trapped by rubble. Send for healers to set up a temporary hospital near the accident site. Well come on man, there is work to do." Margaery said before she charged off to get her orders in place with the knights rushing after her. With Lord Tyrion currently in Duskendale with his wife and children, she was the one who ruled the city in his and Jon's absence. So it was up to her to deal with this crisis and she was determined not to falter.

Deepwood Motte, the North…

Gregor Forrester looked from his horse down at the still battle damaged castle which had been stolen from the Glovers, using the forest that surrounded it to hide their approach. The banner of the Boltons he noticed was not flying overhead, instead it was the flaming heart banner of Stannis Baratheon and Gregor felt slightly cheated. He had hoped that he might catch the traitor Roose Bolton and his bastard son here but from the camp below it seemed that they had already left for parts unknown. Still he thought to himself quietly it was better this way, they could retake the castle with far less opposition than they had originally planned for.

At Gregor's side his sons Rodrick and Asher sat on their own horses and like him studied the landscape carefully. Rodrick saw something and checked with a telescope before he told his father and brother.

"They have not fixed the southern gate yet, we should be able to punch through there if we can occupy their attention elsewhere." Rodrick said with a creased brow, wondering how many men they were going to face. It was not clear exactly but it seemed to be at least five thousand so they were on a relatively equal footing with their enemies thanks to the Glover army and Asher's sellswords.

"I could create a distraction near the northern gate, my men are just itching for a fight." Asher said with a smirk, turning around Rodrick looked at the men in question. Their armour alone was different enough to make them stand out; the so called 'Lost Legion' was a company that Asher had become affiliated with while he had been in Essos. Made of people of Valyrian descent they modelled their armour on the sort used during the Valyrian Freehold they and their families had come over to try and find somewhere to settle in Westeros and Asher had invited them to come to the North which was a boon to them as it gave them an extra two thousand men here with their army today while the rest stayed behind to protect their castles, Ironrath and Highpoint.

Gregor nodded grimly and made his plan.

"Asher, you will lead a decoy attack on the Northern gate with your sellswords and the Highpoint soldiers while I will strike at the eastern gate to divide their forces with the Glover army. Rodrick will take our own army and strike the southern gate. Once inside throw open the Eastern gate and I will join you." Gregor said. He did not relish battle but he wanted these invaders out of his homeland and as far away from his family as possible. So he split his forces in three and they all began to move through the Wolfswood so that it would conceal their approach until they were ready to strike. The thick wood was difficult to move through quickly without being noticed but it was enough to disguise the size of their force at the very least.

-x-

Asher Forrester was sat upon his horse with his elite horsemen and soldiers at his side, looking from the edge of Wolfwood forest at Deepwood Motte. He was looking forward to a good fight, it would certainly be something he could talk to his wife and younger siblings about later. He had a smile on his face until he saw the two bodies that were strapped to big x shaped props in the ground. One was of a grown man who had been flayed, something that had been illegal in the North for centuries but the other was that of a small boy which brought a lump to many of their throats but what really made Asher recoil in horror was the torn banner of House Glover that hung from the bodies giving him an unfortunate idea who they had once been. Lord Glover and his son.

Ramsay Snow! Asher thought with a snarl on his face, that boy should have been nothing more than a spot on his mother's bedsheets, doing what he had done to a child that he could only hope had been dead at the time although from the reputation of the Bolton Bastard he thought it likely that the young Glover had been alive when he had been flayed. Silently swearing an oath of revenge for the poor lad he called out to his men.

"ADVANCE!" He yelled so all could hear and with their shields held high the sellswords and men of Highpoint started to move onto the plain. The men that stood within the castle immediately began to rush to battle positions and arrow fire started to descend on the advancing troops who shifted their shields to block the incoming fire. Some arrows did find their way through gaps in the defensive shield barrier and strike the men inside but it was a very small number.

Things are going to plan here at least. Asher thought to himself. It was up to his father and brother now.

-x-

At the Eastern gate however things were not going as well as too many archers had stayed near that gate and Gregor and the Glover army found themselves pinned by arrow fire and unable to make any further progress until somebody did something about those archers.

-x-

Rodrick was having better luck as he moved forward with his men to attack the still open southern gate. Whatever the Boltons had used to breach it had been heavy enough to demolish the door and no one had yet managed to replace it so with the defenders at the North and Eastern gates few remained to watch the southern gate which represented the biggest hole in their defences. A flimsy barricade and one or two archers were all that stood between them and entrance to the castle. Rodrick smiled and began to advance forward with his men at his side. The two archers on the walls noticed them immediately and would have raised the alarm if not for the rather fine archers in his own army picking them off. On loan from his wife Elaena Glenmore's family they were undoubtedly effective as he and his men could now force their way through the barricade unhindered.

Once the carts had been moved Rodrick looked around and saw that they were alone in this part of the castle, smiling he turned towards the eastern gate and his men followed his lead silently moving into the enemy stronghold. As they came to the eastern gate he saw that only some sellswords and rebel Valemen stood there but with their back to them. The archers on the wall were too busy to notice him and his men so Rodrick drew his sword and with a wave of his blade charged to face the enemy followed by a few hundred Forrester men.

The surprised sellswords and Valemen had no chance to prepare as they turned around to see hundreds of Northerners charging straight at them. Rodrick himself was as fierce as a bear with his broadsword in his hands, cutting down men left and right with no hesitation or care, while he fought the infantry on the ground, some men charged up the steps to the walls and the unprepared archers could do nothing as Northern steel was thrust into their bodies.

Slashing his broadsword to sever the head of a Valeman Rodrick managed to force his way to the opening mechanism for the door and turned the wheel to open the door. The yells of men were soon heard through the door as the Glover army led by Gregor Forrester joined the small fight on the inside. Seeing how badly outnumbered they were the Valemen and sellswords still left standing dropped their weapons in surrender.

"Bind them securely." Rodrick said as he turned to his father who nodded proudly, letting him give the order. "Then to the Northern gate!" Rodrick said with cheer, the men echoing it with a roar of their own.

The combined Glover and Forrester army charged through the castle to the Northern gate where most of the enemy could be found and without hesitation went on the attack.

Rodrick and Gregor led the charge, both with their hearts raging with the lust of battle as they swung their swords into the enemy without any hesitation. Men who had trained their entire lives for battle and would defend their home from foreign invaders whatever the cost, even their own lives.

Rodrick and Gregor easily parried the strikes of the enemy before returning the favour and cutting down where they stood. The Glenmore archers began from the back of their lines to pick off the hundred or so archers on the walls who were torn between turning around to defend themselves from the attack and stopping the advance of Asher and his men which would surely spell their doom. Their confusion was fatal as the archers in Asher's own forces now got close enough to shoot at them as well.

The surprised Valemen and sellswords on the inside of the castle meanwhile were being driven back against the walls of the castle as the Forresters and Glovers pressed the attack. Some began to throw down their weapons, preferring to spend their days at the Wall rather than die here. Others kept fighting fiercely but the holes in their lines that were opening thanks to the surrendering fighters condemned them to a swift and violent death.

The result however bloody was what the Forresters had aimed for, Deepwood Motte was in Northern loyalist hands again. The only bitter thing about the battle was the cremation of Lord Glover and his son, telling Lady Glover that not only was her husband dead but her young son too was a duty none of them had ever wanted. But none the less it would have to be done.

The Twins, the Riverlands…

Cersei was sitting on the throne of the Twins if you could call the pathetic seat a throne and her eyes were wild with madness and fury. The two Freys that commanded her army had yet to acknowledge her summons to come to the Twins so she could tell the next stage in her plans for conquest. When the door to the hall opened her eyes narrowed at the sight of one of the many daughters of her thankfully late husband enter. Fat Walda Frey and one of her sister's that looked just as ugly as the first one did nervously made their way into hall and flinched when Cersei asked.

"Well? Where are Lothar Frey and Walder Rivers? They were supposed to be here an hour ago!" Cersei snapped and the two Frey women who were absolutely terrified of their stepmother shook for a moment before Walda managed to speak.

"My lady, they have both declared themselves Lord Frey and are pursuing their own campaigns, taking the army you have assembled with them." Walda said with her voice trembling.

Cersei was silent for a moment before the words sank in and with a scream of rage that echoed across the castle. She leapt to her feet with eyes completely manic and her nose flaring like an animal. Both Walda and her sister immediately ran for the door but were not fast enough as Cersei stabbed both of them with the daggers she wore on her waist. They screamed as she stabbed them again and again.

She was so caught up in her bloodlust that she did not notice a shadowy figure listening at the door who quickly moved off to send a raven reporting the important news to Alys, the woman he worked for and spymaster for Lord Lannister. The Twins were vulnerable and the Frey army split in two separate pieces, it was the perfect opportunity to strike.

-x-

Hadrian received the information less than an hour later, it brought a dark smile to his face as he considered the opportunity that had fallen into his lap. He turned to the man who had delivered the message and said.

"Could you please get Raphael Daniels, Sandor Clegane and Shaena Targaryen? I think I might have something that they will all enjoy."

Oh Cersei, Hadrian thought as the man ran off to find the people he wanted to see. You might make problems for me but you create solutions just as easily without even knowing it.

The Rills, the North…

The wind howled and snow fell around the two Northern armies as they clashed on the fields near the Rills, home of House Ryswell and the most powerful supporter of House Bolton remaining. The Starks and the Ryswells clashed on the field alongside their Bolton allies. The battle had been raging for the better part of an hour already and showed no sign of letting up any time soon.

Ned was on the front lines with his men as he preferred to be, his men certainly appreciated his presence as he cut through Ramsay's boys with his great sword Ice. The thugs that terrorised innocent people alongside their master were little more than clumsy fools in a fight against someone that could fight back as the one known as 'Yellow Dick' proved when Ned easily cleaved him in two. His brief respite however was broken by a pain at his leg, looking down he saw one of the blasted hounds of Ramsay Snow had clamped down its large jaws on his knee, the beast seemed to be trying to tear off his leg and try as he might he could not get the wretched animal off. He tried to stab the creature with his sword but the ground was too slippery and the hound in too awkward position.

While he was distracted by the damned hound, a Ryswell man came up and slammed a mace into his side. Ned was caught completely by surprise and although it had certainly cracked his ribs with the force of its impact, the mace was thankfully blunt. It was almost as if time itself had slowed down as he fell to the ground, when his body landed on the snow the pain of his ribs intensified but thankfully he landed on his undamaged side so it did not make his injuries worst. He saw the snarling jaws of the dogs that were going to kill him as he prepared for the end. He only hoped Robb would prove victorious and end the Bolton threat once and for all, excepting that he was going to die.

He was pleasantly surprised when Ranger and Greywind leapt over him and tackled the dogs, snapping their necks like twigs and scaring the remaining hounds in retreat before rounding on the mace wielding Ryswell soldier that had hit Ned in the first place. Although Ned could barely see, the man was so scared by the two direwolves that seemed so enormous that he did not notice Robb coming up behind and sticking the point of his sword through the man's throat. As the man fell to the ground, Robb was immediately at his father's side and seeing how badly Ned was injured and looking concerned he called out.

"Get him to the healers now!" Some men came forward and carefully began to drag him back towards their camp, Ranger followed much to the concern of the two men gently licking Ned's hand after he fell unconscious.

-x-

Robb strapped Ice to his back before he turned back into the battle, seeing Torrhen Karstark standing strong against the Ryswell host Robb joined his good brother and slew a Ryswell man that was trying to sneak up on Torrhen.

"How goes the battle Torrhen?" Robb asked as he swung his sword into another soldier's, they locked blades for a moment before a careful shove from Robb put the man off balance enough for Robb to sever his head from his shoulders.

"Their lines are weakening, whoever is running this battle they do not fight for him very hard." Torrhen shouted over the sounds of battle. Robb nodded his face covered with blood and with Greywind at his side whose large mouth was stained red, Robb cried out to his men.

"WE HAVE THEM ON THE RUN! PRESS THE ATTACK!"

-x-

Ramsay sat on his horse at the rear of his army's lines, still nursing the stump were his hand had once been. He still felt the sensations as though his hand was still there but when he looked it was painfully obvious that it was gone. If his father had not been surrounded with his loyal men he would have killed him right there and then. The mere thought of gutting is father like a pig was nearly enough to bring a smile to his face except for the fact that he was losing this battle. The Starks had attacked before he had been able to come up with a plan and the Ryswells did not trust him enough to accept his orders. When Roger Ryswell had been felled by an arrow and his brother Rickard died from that accursed giant of the Starks, their forces had begun to lose near all cohesion and already men were fleeing the battlefield. This was perhaps the only time after his injury that Ramsay had wished for his father to be here, he would have quickly have turned the situation around had he not been called to aid Stannis Baratheon in fighting the Umbers near White Harbour.

But Ramsay himself had no training or experience in leading armies, especially armies that did not obey his orders he fumed, if he had the time he would have delighting in making these men his own army of Reeks but there was no opportunity for that at the moment. He saddened him somewhat but right now he looked at the situation in front of him and realised despite his limited experience that their lines were about to break, making his decision he turned to the Bolton Captain and said.

"Sound the retreat, fall back to White Harbour so we can join with my father and strike back against the Starks." Ramsay said with annoyance. The Bolton Captain looked at him in surprise and said in a token protest.

"But my lord, the Ryswells?" A glare stopped the Captain in his tracks and Ramsay told him the reasons why he had chosen this course of action in no uncertain terms.

"They chose to be prideful and ignore me, now they can face the consequences." Then without a single word more, Ramsay turned his horse around and began to ride away. Looking left and right, the Bolton Captain grimaced before pulling the horn from his waist and blowing the call the retreat and riding away himself.

-x-

On the front line of the Starks, there was no fear or hesitation in the soldiers from obeying the orders of Robb Stark. The Young Wolf as many called him was respected for his prowess in battle and leading his men from the front as a true leader should just like his father. The Karstarks would have followed him anyway because of his marriage to Alys who was still at Winterfell with their son as there must always be a Stark in Winterfell as his father always said.

With Torrhen Karstark at his side they pressed forward and were both surprised to see gaps opening in the enemy's lines as men carrying the flayed man symbol of House Bolton began to pull back. The Ryswell men still standing on the field soon found themselves exposed as holes opened in their lines. Taking advantage Robb called out as loud as he could.

"PUSH FORWARD MEN, CARRY THE DAY!"

The men responded with eagerness to end the fight as the now outnumbered Ryswell men were enveloped by the Starks and Karstarks. Some men seeing that the battle was lost threw down their weapons and raised their hands in surrender while a man in the centre cried out in anger.

"FIGHT YOU COWARDS!" Robb looked and saw that the man yelling to the men to keep fighting was Roose Ryswell, the youngest son of Lord Ryswell. Robb sheathed his own weapon and pulled Ice from his back. He made his way through the surrendering Ryswell men as his own pulled them aside and was soon face to face with Roose Ryswell who did not waste anytime swinging his sword at Robb who despite feeling weary from the battle, dodged the sword and with a mighty swing of Ice, took the man's leg off.

Roose Ryswell fell to the ground, screaming out in pain but he had no time to react before Robb with another tired swing, took his head clean off.

Seeing the last remaining son of their lord die was enough to drain the fight out of the remaining Ryswell soldiers who all began to throw down their weapons knowing that the battle was lost.

-x-

While their fathers and Torrhen's brothers stayed at camp to tend to their injuries earned in battle, Robb and Torrhen led their remaining soldiers to the Rills. Seeing the castle come in sight the men formed up and Robb feeling an eagerness that eased the weariness in his bones ordered.

"Archers! Keep the men on the walls undercover, Wun Wun have fun." Robb said turning to the giant who gave him a smirk which Robb eagerly returned before the giant ran straight at the large wooden gates of the Rills. Archers fired their flaming arrows from bows and crossbows high at the men on the walls to keep them from interfering. Once the giant had reached the gates with limited opposition, Wun Wun with a single swing of his mighty club caved in the main gate and gave the Starks and Karstarks a clear route into the castle. Robb with a yell of triumph led his men forward into the fray, they poured into the yard and seeing the game was up, few of the remaining Ryswell men put up a fight, most dropping their weapons immediately.

Some of the men however looking disgusted by something dragged a man wearing noble garments into the yard and threw him before Robb. Robb's eyes narrowed when he saw that it was Lord Ryswell, without even a moment's hesitation Robb decapitated the man with Ice causing many too look at him in shock before Robb made his speech.

"This man was a traitor and a fool. He committed his family to a lord against my family based on a grudge and nothing more. Hence forth; this castle, its lands and the title that goes with it shall be the property of Torrhen Karstark, a true Northerner and fine lord." Robb announced knowing he was probably jumping the mark by giving the castle to Torrhen but without the Karstarks they would not have won the day and a reward was due. Torrhen himself looked shocked at the sudden announcement as did many of the men in the yard but that soon changed to a cry of victory and people chanting both his and Torrhen's names.

-x-

Unaware of what his son was doing at the Rills, Ned lay flat out on the bed in his tent, his side patched and his armour having been removed so his wounds could be treated. His eyes were slow to open but the sight that greeted him was almost like those from a dream. Ashara was mopping his brow and his side although sore did not truly hurt any longer.

"I used my magic to fix your ribs and other injuries but it will be awhile before you are swinging a sword again Ned although that will probably not stop you." She said, her tone was brisk but there was a slight note of concern to it. He did his best to smile and told her.

"We are getting old it seems."

"You speak for yourself!" Ashara said in annoyance but she could not help but smile slightly. Ned always seemed able to do that she thought, get her to smile whatever he said. How she thought with a slight anger had he managed to get so deep under her skin. "I only hope that this will teach you to stand back in battle and yet the younger men do the work. You are not a teenager anymore Ned." She said genuinely worried for him, something that did surprise her slightly in the heat of the moment.

"I know." He said looking solemn again for a moment. "I always thought that I would be serving my older brother Brandon while he ruled the North. And I thought I would have been married to you with children of our own." He said although the last part was what hurt Ned the most.

Ashara with feelings raging inside as she too remembered the love that they had once held for each other and the eagerness with which they had wanted to wed each other, only for desperation and grief to settle in as they remembered the events that had driven them apart. Tears formed in the corner of her eyes and she fled the tent, not willing to talk about it yet, leaving an equally mournful Ned behind and a conversation unfinished.

Darry, the Riverlands…

Castle Darry, the small but old stronghold which gave the ruling house its name was standing strong against the forces that were besieging it. Houses Goodbrook, Lychester and Erenford had surrounded the castle with all of their combined soldiers and the men were full of boast and song, so confident in their success that it seemed almost like they had won already despite the fact that the castle's inhabitants had refused all calls for surrender. They grimly stood on the walls with bows ready to pick off anyone foolish enough to approach the castle walls.

The Freys allies were sitting around in the early morning mist while they ate their breakfast until they heard the sound, a loud roar followed by the echo of battle horns and drums across the murky landscape, making most of the men stop still in fear as they could not for the life of them find the source of the noise. Their tension rose quickly as fear began to settle in, some going for their weapons and armour as they feared an attack. On the walls the Darry men felt little better as they could not discern the source of the noise as it grew louder and louder but sure that it was worrying their enemies.

The morning mist parted briefly to allow the Frey men and their allies to see what was going to kill them, two dragons swooped down from the fog and blasted the terrified men with great plumes of fire, setting tents and men alight with impunity. On the back of Sheepstealer, Shaena grinned as she saw the men fall into complete chaos. Her initial attack had only been a passing blow but it had put the fear of the gods into the men below, so much so that they did not notice the rapidly approaching Lannister forces that emerged swiftly from out of the mist and smashed into the camp with so much force that the Freys and their allies were completely shattered. The men of House Darry watched in awe as the dragons flew overhead, they honestly thought that they were dreaming but the smell of burning flesh from the men outside their walls was enough proof that they were awake.

More proof arrived as one of the huge dragons landed gracefully on their own walls suddenly filling them with dread that its enormous jaws might turn on them next but when the beautiful Valyrian woman slid off its back and called out their tension was broken by confusion.

"I wish an audience with Lord Darry. Is he in?" Her voice was almost musical and her full and curvaceous figure drew the eyes of every man in sight, even those that were married but she paid them no attention to them and found the finest dressed man in the room correctly deduced that he was one she wanted to speak to. Lord Darry took a fearful step forward as he kept the fearsome looking dragon in view although his heart was pounding too with the knowledge that he was surely in the presence of a Targaryen. How long he thought had he dreamed that this might happen, that the Targaryens he had served faithfully would return and his house might be restored to its former glory. After nearly twenty years finally things might improve for him and his family, he hoped desperately. The smile of the true Valyrian woman in front of him was enchanting he thought and sent more than a few indecent thoughts through his mind as she walked towards him, her hips swaying in an almost hypnotic way.

"Lord Darry, please I cannot ride you cowgirl style as I plan to do that with Hadrian when I see him next." She said her eyes glittering with mischief which instantly left the old lord blushing and stammering but she did not allow him to try and reclaim some dignity before getting to the route of the matter. "If you would be so kind as to lend me some of your fighting men to bolster the few that Hadrian was kind enough to lend me I will gladly ensure the lands that belonged to you before the Rebellion will be returned and I will even throw in the Saltpans after the war if you are prepared to marry your son to one of the unmarried granddaughters. I am a bit short on time so if you could just say yes or no I would be so grateful." Shaena said enjoying embarrassing Lord Darry perhaps too much but it was all in good fun and she would reward him later in return.

The news of the Frey army splitting in half had to be acted on quickly. She had decided to deal with the Freys near Harrenhal while Hadrian would march on the Twins before they united and rode on to deal with Walder Rivers near Blackwood which was currently under siege.

Lord Darry meanwhile was reduced to a state of near total confusion by the strange Targaryen that had landed on the walls of his castle, but for the rewards she was promising how could he refuse her.

Harrenhal, the Riverlands…

Lothar Frey and his men were all still enjoying themselves at Harrenhal, it was good he thought to be a conquering hero. The whores and other women he and his men had enjoyed whether they were willing or not. All the wine and gold that they had seized either from this castle or from the lands around that they had pillaged. Food filled their bellies with plenty more to follow, yes he thought with pride life was good for him right now. His timid field mouse of a wife was back at the Twins so he did not have her to bother him either so it was a near perfect. Soon he would march his men on Riverrun and take it as his new castle, maybe he might even enjoy fucking the ass of the stuck up Lady Cerenna it was best ass he had ever seen he thought with his mouth near dripping in lust although he had only seen it when it was covered in red silk.

He and his men were so relaxed and many more than a little drunk that they did not react very quickly nor did they have much common sense so there were no men on sentry duty or running patrols of the local area. So as Shaena Targaryen, her two dragons and her small army of Lannister and Darry men were not only unopposed as they moved closer to Harrenhal but for the most part unnoticed. The lack of opposition was a surprise to them but when they came into sight of Harrenhal it was very apparent to all of them just why it was so. Shaena shook her head and turned to Sandor Clegane who was leading the soldiers assigned to her by Hadrian alongside Ser Arthur Dayne and Lord Darry.

"Just kill them as quickly as possible and burn the bodies. Any that do surrender send them to the Wall." She was feeling a bit annoyed at not getting to fight a battle but it was for the best she supposed. Both men nodded in agreement although Sandor looked nervously at the two great dragons that she used as mounts but given his fear of fire she could not fault him. The two men left to get started, she meanwhile looked at the ruined castle that had destroyed many families over the course of its existence. She could not fault Aegon her many times great ancestor for burning it but it certainly had not done the castle's current appearance any favours she thought looking at the blackened and melted stone. Even from above the castle's size was apparent from a distance and she sneered at how much of a waste of resources and a demonstration of ego the castle was. What was it with men and demonstrations of size? She thought with derision.

She decided then and there that she was going to claim this rotten castle and have it torn down, some of the stone could be recycled to build the smaller castle and town she wanted to construct in its place she thought not wanting to be wasteful. Hadrian's bombs and rockets would be a good means of tearing it down quickly she thought and there should be more than enough good stone left to make most if not all of the new castle and town. Still as she got closer to the castle she could feel the malevolent anger that seemed to emanate out from the very heart of the castle.

"Well then, there is a curse after all." She whispered quietly to herself as she walked into the castle remembering cursed objects from her life and Luna Lovegood and knew the danger they posed. After all she suspected that this curse might well be responsible for the downfall of every family that had ever called this castle home. Her senses prickled as she entered the areas of the castle that had not seen human presence in decades, the sense of dark magic was certainly growing stronger as she approached one of the unused towers and felt a feeling of dread creeping up around her. However she pushed through it by drawing on her occlumency training to force out the mental intrusion. She came to a sealed door and summoned a quick blasting curse to force the door open. It might have been slightly overpowered as the door flew from the hinges in two pieces but that did not bother Shaena as she entered the room and can across the source of the curse she had felt.

In a throne like chair was a skeleton of a man with a rusty looking dagger impaled through the ribcage. Her eyes were wide as she saw the damaged black armour the skeleton wore and the gold medallion with a coat of arms consisting of a longboat, a tree, a cluster of grapes and a bird separated by chains. Looking all around her she could see moth eaten banners and a room full of gold and other riches that House Hoare as it had once been known had kept for themselves.

"So Harren Hoare survived the burning of Harrenhal." She mused seeing the black armour he was famous for and looking at the book at his feet she understood what he had done. It was a book of Valyrian origin although how he had acquired it confused her, but regardless it showed how to use blood magic to curse something and ensure ruin brought to any who possessed it afterwards for however short a time. A dusty looking letter caught her eye and she carefully picked it up and started reading.

Whoever discovers this letter, listen closely...

I Harren Hoare will never bend the knee to that blasted upstart Aegon, I would sooner die especially after what he has done to my great castle. All that work has been ruined and if he dares to give it to any family then death and misery is all they will find here. I will use my own blood to create a curse upon this castle. My bones will carry it through the ages and no-one but I shall claim this castle as their own.

It is mine and it will stay so for the rest of time…

The pettiness of the man and the size of his ego was just sad Shaena thought, the size of this castle perhaps she joked to herself. All he cared about was his own glory and this failed monument to his own power however false it had been in the face of her ancestors and their dragons. Looking at the skeleton she could see that his words had been all too true, his own sacrifice had attached the curse to his bones. As long as they existed the curse would always strike people at Harrenhal, but thankfully that made her job a lot easily she thought with a grin. She came forward and ripped the chain off of his corpse and thankfully it was not cursed too so she put aside before she drew on her magic and levitated the body of Harren out of the tower and once it was set down, she took a deep breath and with an energetic thrust of her hands Friendfyre erupted, sweat forming on her forehead as she struggled to keep the living fire under control, directing it towards the bones of Harren. The flames fought her but caved to her will and engulfed the bones and damaged armour.

A terrible scream emerged from the bones as they were incinerated by the intensely hot flames, Shaena could feel the magic of the blood sacrifice fighting against her but she was relentless and felt the twisted blood magic failing until finally it gave out for good and was consumed completely by the magical fire. She pulled the fire back into herself and gave a sigh of relief, looking down at the empty space where the bones of Harren Hoare had once been she could feel the curse evaporating and the oppressive atmosphere of the castle start to dissipate. She quickly turned and used her magic to repair the door she had broken and seal the tower again thinking to come back later to remove anything worthwhile for her own private collection when she heard a man's heavy footsteps as he ran in her direction.

Ser Arthur came with Dawn in his hands ready and he looked around as if anticipating his princess was going to be surrounded by a dozen enemy soldiers. He turned to her and asked.

"Are you okay my princess? I heard the most terrible scream only moments ago." Arthur looked around ready to slaughter anyone who would threaten his princess but Shaena just gave him one of her bemused and vacant smiles which annoyed him no end and said.

"Oh, I was just clearing the castle of wrackspurts Ser Arthur. They make quite a noise when squashed." Her voice was completely light and floaty while her face was a mask of nonchalance, Arthur still felt disturbed by the way she had said it. He knew of his mistress's magic of course and before his 'death' he had been very uncomfortable whenever Rhaegar had ever spoken of such things. Since his resurrection however he found it no longer bothered him, it made him wonder if something that Kinvara had done to him had changed his feelings but either way it had helped with guarding the princess and allowed him not to be disturbed by her strange powers. Princess Shaena then told him as if it were just a normal pleasant day. "Walk with me to the Godswood Ser Arthur and you can tell me how many men surrendered instead of coating our steel with their blood."

Ser Arthur followed his princess as she started walking, still a bit unsettled at how normal she made such things sound but with a reluctant acceptance drawn from years of her company he answered her.

"Over six hundred dropped their weapons immediately, we already have them locked up in the cells and a further hundred tried to fight but gave up quickly enough. The other twelve hundred refused and we cut them down quickly. What should we do with the bodies?" He asked her as they came to the walled twenty acres that housed the Weirwood in Harrenhal. Shaena did not even turn her head as she said with the same vacant expression.

"What else? Burn them. I will not waste time with mass graves that the White Walkers can use later should they get as far as the Riverlands." Shaena told him as they came with sight of the large Weirwood tree at the centre of the godswood after crossing the small stream which was winding through the small wood. Shaena did feel a little uncomfortable as she saw the terrible twisted mouth and flaring eyes that had been carved into the great tree. Its expression was so full of hatred that Shaena wondered if it might have been affected by the curse that had clung to this castle for three centuries. The deep marks that her own ancestors Daemon and Aemon Targaryen had left when they had battled near here during the Dance of Dragons did not help the tree's dark appearance. She sighed and wondered if she might get another Weirwood planted for people to worship at, few would want to do it here she thought sadly.

"Our salvation. And an arse worth the fucking." Shaena heard and around her and Arthur from behind the trees a dozen men of House Frey emerged led by Lothar Frey himself. She knew his ugly face well enough from when the degenerate man's father had sent him to try and woo her after her husband's death. She had not even allowed him inside her castle's walls but she remembered his face well enough. She drew Dark Sister and Ser Arthur held Dawn firmly in his hands, their expressions darkened especially as she saw the lecherous looks on the men's face knowing full well what they would do to her given half the chance. Ser Arthur noticed too and made a vow there and then than none of the Freys would leave this godswood alive.

As the Freys so utterly confident in themselves got closer, Shaena and Arthur struck impaling two men on their swords in sync with each other before quickly withdrawing and slashing the throats of two others wide open. Now there were only eight men against them.

The Freys were shocked at how quickly four of them had been dispatched and became more serious in an instant. They charged in all at once, hoping that together they might overwhelm the two but it was a deadly mistake. Ser Arthur moved like a man twenty years younger with Dawn slashing cleanly through the Frey men with ease while Shaena who he thought of as his greatest student was like a dancer as she elegantly moved through the group of men trying to kill her only to find themselves impaled or with gashes in their chests. The last standing was Lothar Frey who looked around to see all of his men death before he was impaled in the balls by Shaena Targaryen which lasted only for a moment before Ser Arthur Dayne took his head off.

The two stood over the bodies of the Freys that they had been killed and saw the blood that was pooling up around them had started moving towards the Weirwood. The two watched in horrified awe as the blood flowed into the Weirwood tree and the bodies broke down into liquid that too was pulled into the tree. Shaena and Arthur were genuinely disturbed at what was happening and this only increased when they looked up at the tree and saw that not only were all of the deep marks left over from the Dance of Dragons gone but its face had transformed from a snarling face to a slight smile. Both left quickly, not wanting to be around the tree until they had managed to get what had just happened out of their heads.

The Twins, the Riverlands…

The sight of the castles that made up the Twins and how little it had in the way of defenders brought a grim smile to Hadrian's face. He was not relishing what he was about to do, he had fought to establish a good if strong reputation across the known world and he had at least in his own mind accomplished it. He was feared, respected and dare he say it liked in most areas of the empire but today he was going to have to do something that would make many frown…kinslaying.

It was time for Cersei to go…he could not tolerate her scheming and behaviour any longer. He did not relish the weight of the sword at his side for it seemed heavier than normal today. He might hate Cersei; she was as bad as any villain he had faced thus far in this world or the last in her own way and she was never going change but…she was still his sister.

The words spoken by their mother on her death bed repeating them inside his head for the first time in years.

"You are the oldest my son." Joanna said, looking terribly weak as she lay on the bed, Hadrian still a boy stood at the side holding her hand. His eyes watering as the loving woman who lay dying before him and looked so much like Lily Potter only with blonder hair and who he had relished the chance of getting to know as he had been cheated of the chance to know his first mother. Her own eyes watered and she told him urgently as if knowing her time was near. "Look after your brothers and sister, promise me Hadrian. Promise me!" She urged him, holding his hand so tightly he felt it might break.

"I promise." He said back with his own eyes glistening.

What else could he had said to a dying woman he thought with the old stab of grief coming back to haunt him. It had not been a magical vow but a sworn promise to a loved one, how could he have violated that? Now however he had no choice.

Raphael Daniels looked at his old friend in concern knowing full well what dilemma he was dealing with. He did not envy him, he had felt much the same way with his brother Fabien, he hated him but at the same time he was his brother.

-x-

Cersei was pacing furiously along the floor of the great hall as the horns of battle sounded, drums began in the distance to play the Rains of Castamere and the Seas of Red and Gold. The songs sent chills down her spine as she remembered what her father and brother had done to earn those words. The annihilation of House Frey was certain, their army was divided and too far away to challenge to the larger, better trained and generally superior Lannister army. Not to mention she thought the two dragons that they had at their backs. She could hardly believe the two creatures could exist but given that they had flown close enough to be seen from their battlements she could hardly deny it.

The explosion of rockets alerted her to the breaching of their defences but she had not expected her brother to waste time, she knew him well enough to be wise to that. However much a coward he was, she thought he was quick and efficient. But she thought with a vicious snarl, she would not be made a septa or locked away like a prisoner. Her eyes blazing madness, she pulled out one of her daggers and slashed both of her wrists. As the blood slipped from her veins on to the floor she felt pride at her last act of defiance, she would never again be someone to be mocked and degraded and from the next world she would return to haunt them she thought with fanatical certainty.

As she grew weaker and weaker her mind became fuzzy and sounds became distant, her legs would no longer support her and she fell into a slowly forming pool of her own blood. It was like she thought slowly being surrounded in a dense fog as her eyes lost focus. But as she felt herself slip from the world, screams started sounding around her. She looked around as best she could but it was not what she had imagined, the afterlife she realised with horror. Her belief that she would be reunited with her son Joffrey in heaven where he would rule like a king was quelled by the sensation of burning that seemed to be rising all around her. Her eyes began to see again as fire and brimstone surrounded her and the feeling burning began to intensify. He cried out in pain, her eyes seeing her darling boy Joffrey reaching out to her as he was being impaled and burned on terrible pronged spikes. She reached out to him desperately but she could not reach him with her own blackening arm. Then a mud covered foot stamped down on her outstretched arm and pain shot up Cersei's arm, she screamed and her head snapped up to see a face that she had never thought to see again.

She was still a child, caked in mud and filth with her clothes that had once been pretty now torn and ruined. Her frame was slender and although mud covered much of her small body she was still pretty even with the freckles that could just be seen on her cheeks. The sight of the girl made Cersei gasp as although she had less recollection of when they had both been girls than she once had, she knew instantly who the girl was.

"Melara?" She asked her voice pained from the way Melara Heatherspoon was pressing down on her arm, the girl she had pushed down a well and left to drown. There was no affection on the mud soaked girl's face at the mention of her name in fact she sneered with a viciousness that made even Cersei fear before telling her.

"Payback time bitch!" Melara snarled and pressed harder with her foot, causing Cersei to scream as her wrist snapped under the pressure not realising that this was only the beginning of an eternity of suffering. One that she had well earned.

-x-

In the land of the living, Hadrian was sending some of the few remaining Frey men at the Twins to the afterlife too. One weasel in particular was swinging an axe wildly without skill or form. Hadrian easily parried the blows or dodged them with little effort before severing the man's hands off, the Frey man had only seconds to look down at the stumps where his hands had once been and the axe that had fallen to the floor before Hadrian forced his sword straight through the man's mouth. He frowned, briefly wishing that he had been the one to deal with the men at Harrenhal, there he might actually have gotten a decent fight.

At his side the men were feeling much the same, like they had drawn the short straw but when there were only a couple of hundred men to fight most of which were the fat and the lame it was hardly worth the effort to attack the castle was it not in their way of marching north. Hadrian shook his head before giving his orders to his men.

"Round up all the survivors that includes children and check the dudgeons. There may be some prisoners of value there." His manner was grim and the men did not hesitate to follow his orders.

"My lord, you should see this." Raphael said as he came up the corridor from, his own armour and sword stained with blood. Hadrian was curious but followed his friend wondering what it was that required his personal attention. Raphael could handle any prisoners easily but when they came to the great hall he realised just what it was that his friend needed him to see.

Cersei, he thought as he walked into the room where his sister's corpse lay with her wrists slit, you do have a habit of surprising us don't you? Even after all this time Hadrian thought as he looked down on his sister's body. At least she had saved him the stigma of being a kinslayer he thought with slight relief.

"My lord. Are you okay?" Raphael asked, the only one of his vassals that could dare ask that question. Hadrian nodded with a sense of relief.

"It is on her own terms. If Cersei's life was going to end that would be how she would do it." He said wearily before turning to Raphael. "Have the body burnt and its ashes stored in an urn. They should be with Joffrey I suppose." Hadrian concluded with a tired expression until Ser Lucion Lannister came in. The two turned to face him and Lucion reported to his liege lord and distant cousin.

"We have the remaining Freys outside my lord; only women, girls and young boys." Lucion told him and Hadrian nodded before saying.

"Show me."

He followed Lucion wondering what he was going to do with all of the surviving Freys. As he walked he decided that the women and children would probably be banished to Essos where they would not cause any harm as for the boys, any old enough would be sent to the Watch while the younger ones banished with the women. Wives of the Frey men would be sent back to their families if they still had them, otherwise they too would face banishment.

Emerging back into the daylight he saw the rather pathetic looking female members of House Frey, despite being of a noble house most looked little better than beggars. The Weasel like features that most of them had did not help matters but some had clearly benefited from other bloodlines as the rather beautiful looking young woman who stood forward had.

"What will you do with us Lord Lannister? Many of us were prisoners of the late Lady Frey." Her voice was sweet and musical but quivered as she could not meet his gaze, Hadrian noticed Lucion looking her over appreciatively and a plan began to form in his mind. He slowly smiled and asked the girl.

"What is your name girl?" His voice was stern despite his smile and the girl who looked ready to bolt at the leering looks she was receiving from his men and her musical tone answered straight away.

"Roslin Frey my lord." She said. Hadrian looked her up and down and saw she was certainly attractive enough. He was surprised to see she had not been claimed yet by the absence of a ring and turned to Lucion.

"Ser Lucion Lannister, you have done this house great service and acted with the valour and integrity of a true knight. So I bequeath to the Twins to rule over as your castle, to be inherited by your sons." Hadrian said instantly raising a lot of eyebrows in the soldiers and Freys around but none more than Lucion who was drawn away from Roslin to look rather startled at his cousin who added with a slight grin. "On the condition that you take Roslin Frey as your wife. The rest of her house with perhaps a few exceptions will be banished to Essos to live out the rest of their days. As soon as we can find a Weirwood I expect to see you both married." He added with focus on Lucion and Roslin who both turned him in shock and gaped like goldfish.

Hadrian turned and walked back into the castle to arrange for the transport of the members of House Frey he was banishing with a smirking Raphael Daniels at his side, leaving two rather embarrassed young people behind surrounded by some amused soldiers and scared Freys.

RavenTree Hall, the Riverlands…

The last of the Frey loyalists had gathered outside the castle of House Blackwood and brought it under siege with House Bracken and their last remaining allies. Word had spread of the devastating defeats that they had suffered at Harrenhal and The Twins, there was a desperation in the camp as they sent sortie after sortie at the walls of RavenTree Hall. They needed hostages to have a chance of negotiating a peace with the Tullys and the Lannisters or perhaps using them as a human shield. It was their only chance Walder Rivers thought as he looked as wounded men limped back from another failed assault on the walls. The jeering from the Blackwood men on the walls made him grind his teeth in frustration and anger, with every second that passed their enemy grew nearer and if they had not broken the siege before they got here then he and his forces would be trapped between the castle walls and the Tully army. They had no choice but the men with him seemed incapable of breaching the walls, something that filled him with rage.

"FIGHT YOU COWARDS!" He called out only to be met with mutinous looks and angry frowns, none of them it seemed grasped the importance of getting into the castle before Lannisters or the Tullys arrived. His scouts had reported that the Lannisters were at least two days away, the Tully army had not been seen yet but that was beside the point, he had only two days to get into the castle or he was a dead man. A man of House Bigglestone came up him with his armour damaged and covered in mud from the failed assault and said.

"The men are exhausted my lord. Give them a night to rest and tomorrow we can launch a massive assault with all of our men, sure to breach the walls." The Lord of House Bigglestone said, nearly wheezing from the effort of trying to get close enough to the walls to use their ladders to climb the walls. Not surprising for a man of nearly fifty but looking around Walder honestly felt like pulling his already thinning hair out but conceded that there was little option left to him at the moment without reinforcements. He had taken to cursing his stepmother seven or eight times a day for getting them into this alliance with Stannis Baratheon just as he was doing now most of it under his breath before giving his orders.

"Order the men to sleep early and fill their bellies, for tomorrow we will not stop until we breach the walls." Walder said, stomping back to his tent where he could enjoy a night of peaceful sleep free of these incompetents. Had he turned around he would have seen the glare being sent his way by Lord Bigglestone, a lord held on their side solely by the hostage that had been held in the dudgeons of The Twins. The full implications of which would not hit him until the following morning.

-x-

The early morning sun was glaringly bright as the Frey soldiers and their allies ate breakfast, getting ready to charge the walls. They were not in any real state for a fight, most of them were not yet dressed in their armour or with any weapons within reach. Lord Bracken in fact had overslept and was only just stumbling out of his tent still half-asleep when they heard the thundering of hooves in the morning air. Many turned to find the source of the noise only to be blinded by the early morning sun as it peaked over the hills, from which the noise was coming from. As they struggled to cope with the sunspots in their eyes, several men found themselves with steel being thrust into their bodies by the men of House Bigglestone who emerged from their tents in full battle dress and completely alert but even as they were reeling from that, the sound of hooves got louder as thousands of men on horseback wearing the symbols of Houses Lannister and Tully came screaming over the hills at breakneck speed. The still temporary blinded and unprepared men in the camp were powerless as they smashed into the camp, joined with the Bigglestones…and the slaughter began.

Walder Rivers was in his tent enjoying a nice breakfast when he heard the noise and rushed out of his tent and was greeted by the sight of his men being slaughtered by Lannister and Tully troops. He grasped his sword tightly and charged straight into battle while his mind was struggling to cope with the situation, how had the Lannisters gotten here so quickly? Or the Tullys for that matter? They should have been miles away. He did not realise that his scouts had been in the pocket of Lord Bigglestone and relaying him false information to make this ambush possible.

As he swung his sword in an attempt to get some of the bastards that had come to kill him, a giant figure of a man loomed across his path. He was famous because of his damaged face and infamous family, Sandor Clegane, Walder was terrified at the thought of facing the enormous man and went to run only for a swipe of Sandor's great sword Nightfall to cut his legs off below the knee. Walder fell into the mud, screaming out in pain before his cries irritated Sandor who stamped down hard on the back of Walder's neck, snapping it like a twig.

Hadrian himself was not far away and saw what had happened. He caught Sandor's eyes and gave him a grateful nod that promised payment later before he and Sandor went back to the matter of winning the battle if you could call this slaughter that. Hadrian with Crimson Night swinging cut through men with ease, at his side was Raga and Raphael Daniels doing much the same with Valour, his own Valyrian sword.

-x-

Less than an hour later, all the men besieging the castle had surrendered after many had been killed. Lord Bracken was amongst the captives and with the death of Walder Rivers he now spoke for the prisoners. He seemed content for the moment to sit up and glare at them all, especially Lord Blackwood and Lord Bigglestone as they waited for the guests of honour to arrive. They did not have to wait long as a party of horse men led by Lord Edmure Tully surrounding a small wheelhouse arrived. The wheelhouse stopped and out of it emerged Lady Cerenna Tully with a small bundle in her arms. Her now flat stomach gave enough clue to everyone what was in her arms but the beautiful Lannister now Tully woman walked forward and before Edmure could speak Cerenna started talking to the lords that had stayed loyal to House Tully.

"My lords you have the eternal gratitude of House Tully for your services today. You will be duly rewarded as we divide up the lands of the traitorous houses in the coming weeks. Such as House Braken." Cerenna added with venom looking towards the tied and gagged Lord Bracken who looked over to Edmure who spoke up rather feebly.

"My love, perhaps we should not be so hasty in handing out punishment. Surely it is better to put the past behind us." The statement instantly made him the target of many looks of derision including from Hadrian, Raphael and Sandor but it was the words of Cerenna that left the deepest wounds.

"You have nearly brought ruin to your own house and lands by having the bravery and attentiveness of a field mouse." She said scornfully, Edmure recoiling almost as if she had physically struck him while the rest of the men watching all looking on in interest over where she was going with this. "If you had the balls to act sooner and stopped listening to the fucking idiots that you appointed at Riverrun this war would never have happened! So if you do not have the fucking stones to rule, someone else will for the sake of our son." She told her husband before turning to Lord Bracken and told him exactly what was going to happen while Edmure's mouth opened and closed like the fish his house had chosen as their symbol.

"Your daughters will be placed into the custody of Lord Blackwood, while you and the male members of your family will be placed on spikes at Riverrun as a warning to others. In time I suspect your many girls will be married to his sons and all the lands of your house will become Lord Blackwood's. The banner of your house will fall, never to be raised again. Your words will be forgotten and never to be spoken and the endless feuding between you and the Blackwoods will finally come to an end." Cerenna added which brought grimaces to the faces of many present except a few who looked on impressed at Cerenna while Lord Bracken stared at her in horror.

However Cerenna was not done yet.

"I may not be a daughter of the Riverlands but I am a Lion." She said as she turned to face the assembled crowd. "I am a Lioness of the Westerlands, not a helpless trout!" She said turning back to Edmure who cringed away from her harsh words before she carried on. "My son will be a Lion of the Riverlands and rule over this kingdom, anyone who thinks to question whether I am fit to raise him and be the Lady of the Riverlands watch closely." She said, placing her son into the arms of a maid before pulling a sword from the sheath of a soldier and with a roar of pure fury stabbed Lord Bracken through the stomach. A gasp travelled through the air as the people looked on at what Cerenna had done and Hadrian looked at her in concern before she turned to her audience and asked, daring anyone to speak.

"Would anyone else like to hear me roar?" She challenged them with her emerald green eyes burning for all to see. For a moment Hadrian wondered if she had gone too far but soon one by one, the Riverlands began to bow to her, causing him to breathe a sigh of relief. Although Hadrian thought with worry he would have to keep a close eye on the Riverlands for the next couple months to ensure there were no repercussions of this decision but he had to admit Cerenna looked truly formidable tonight. She might just win the respect of her vassals yet.

The Great Weirwood, the North…

As snow fell around the Great Weirwood the Three Eyed Raven was deep in his visions of the future, glad that he had more time to probe into possible events so that they might be better prepared for the coming of the White Walkers. At this moment specifically he was looking into futures concerning the dragons and how effective they might be against their enemy.

Standing on a hill Beyond the Wall he looked down as a group of men were surrounded by Wights, completely outnumbered and with no chance of escape until three dragons descended from the sky. While one picked up the trapped men, the other two breathed fire down on the wights below to keep them at bay. It was working too the Raven thought until he noticed the Night King taking a spear of one of his people and throwing it from a mile or so at one of the dragons.

The Raven's heart sank as the spear struck the dragon and sliced clean through it, killing the incredible beast in one move. While the other two dragons flew away, he could see the Night King moving closer towards where the dead dragon lay knowing full well what he intended to do. Pulling himself out of the vision he pondered for a moment; if the Night King was able to do that over a mile then none of the dragons ridden by his family were safe and the last thing that they needed was for the Night King to kill their dragons and bring them back as weapons against them. But he was unsure of what to do, it might he thought be possible to give the dragons armour to protect them from such things but normal steel would shatter when faced with the ice weapons of the walkers and on top of that they did not even have a useable design, the Raven thought with sadness. He would need to find the answer elsewhere.

Casting his sight back he looked to the days of Ancient Valyria for inspiration. He looked carefully through their history hoping to find something that might help protect their dragons now from the Night King for only he the Raven was sure could do that to a dragon. He was disappointed to see that his ancestors had such little concern for their dragons' safety as he saw them ridden without any protection. Granted he thought few things could hurt a dragon let alone kill one but it seemed that no one had even thought of protecting the dragons and rode them into battle as they were.

He was about to give up when he finally came to the Ghiscari Wars, through many he could see much of the same; Valyrians riding their dragons into battle without the dragons having any kind of protection at all but then he looked as far back as the first war and discovered something that intrigued him.

Arriving in a vision of that time, he looked up at the skies and saw that the dragons of Valyria were actually engaged in a fierce battle with harpies, real harpies!

"So they were once as real as the dragons!" The Raven mused but although he could see that the dragons with their fire and vicious claws and teeth had the harpies on the run, he could see that the dragons appeared to be wearing some kind of armour. The Raven's heart leapt as he held the vision in a second of time so he could study the armour more in depth. It was a strange looking creation he thought as he took in the details, not made of either normal or Valyrian steel. It eluded him for a moment until he finally realised just what the armour was made out of.

Dragonglass, the Raven thought with amazement. He would never have thought that his ancestors would have used it as armour as it was far too brittle. That however was until he noticed the small symbols that had been carved into it. Allowing time to flow briefly he saw a harpy's claws slash at the armour only for it to withstand the sharp talons with ease. Something that he knew should not be possible. His smile grew as he stopped the vision again.

"Runic Dragonglass Armour." He said with curiosity, looking carefully over the armour he could see that it protected the internal organs of the dragon like the heart and a helmet allowed them to see while protecting their eyes from Harpies intent on blinding them with a transparent visor made of the same material. The runes giving the usually brittle dragonglass the ability to weather damage that otherwise would have destroyed it with ease. It was one of the best materials for conducting magic the Three Eyed Raven thought and even better it might allow it to withstand the weapons of the White Walkers where steel would fail. He began to feel excited started to commit the design of the armour and the runes used to memory. With a few slight alterations it should be possible for them to use the same armour against the White Walkers.

He would send the design and runes to use to Harry and Luna, or Hadrian and Shaena as they were called in this world he thought with a smile. They themselves did not know why they and indeed Sirius Black or Bran the Builder as he had called himself had been brought to this world by the higher powers. But he had learned why when he had communed with the higher powers briefly.

To arm this world with the weapons of their own world against the ancient enemy. Weapons both scientific and magical that could truly make a difference against the White Walkers that might not have been developed here for centuries if ever.

And thanks to them, they might yet have a chance of seeing the next summer, the Raven thought with a smile.

White Harbour, the North…

The citizens of White Harbour had stayed in their homes as much as possible since Stannis Baratheon had landed. The burned corpses of those that had violated the strict curfew that had been imposed on the city were enough incentive to obey the new rulers of the city, however hungry you were.

However the streets were not as busy as normal with the men of Stannis Baratheon away by large, fighting against the Umbers with Roose Bolton. Those that had been left behind shivered in a mixture of the biting cold from lack of kindling and what Stannis might do when he returned either in victory or defeat.

On the coast where the docks were located, men were tending to their ships and what limited soldiers remained did their best to ensure that the civilians got no ideas in their heads of rebellion against their king. Had they been more alert to other threats they might have posted lookouts along the coast, but as it was they had not and because of that they did not notice the ships coming up from the south, specifically from Kings Landing baring the red three headed dragon on their black sails alongside other house banners like the blue eagle against green of House Arisye or the Silver seahorse against sea green of House Velaryon. The decks of their ships were packed with ten thousand men from the Crownlands and the Narrow Sea while overhead the dragon Sunfyre circled already with Jon on its back ready to strike.

The same morning mist that had hidden the approach of Stannis upon the city in the first place now worked against his men as until Jon's ships broke through the fog bank, no one in the city could see them. When finally they did the men on the docks where shocked and confused, where had these other ships come from? But they had not chance to find the answer to these questions as the now enormous Sunfyre emerged above the ships from the fog bank and the men's jaws dropped in disbelief before they quickly started screaming and running for cover as the dragon swooped down upon them, a decision that came to haunt them as Jon caught them on the run burning them with ease. The chaos his initial attack created was enough for the men he had brought to land without any opposition as the enemy scattered in fear of the dragon. Jon's men had a fun old time chasing them on horseback or on foot through the city streets while Jon picked off larger groups from the sky, careful not to set the city ablaze as he did so. The civilians of the city looked up in awe and fear of the creature that flew overhead and sent their oppressors fleeing in terror.

Many did not even try fighting and instead fled the city in near any direction in sheer terror of the dragon, allowing Jon to claim the city with virtually no opposition at all. Some die hard red god worshippers put up a token fight but many were simply cut down by his men who outnumbered the enemy by an almost ridiculous degree. Landing outside Wolf's Den, Jon dismounted his dragon and with Obara Sand and a company of men at his side he entered the ancient Stark seat and began to look for any prisoners that might be held here. As he moved through the chambers of the castle that had been converted back into a proper castle rather than just a prison so that his younger cousin Rickon could have a seat of his own Jon admired the work that had got into the place but was disappointed to find only one person being held in the dudgeons, a filthy girl that had once had her hair dyed an eye watering shade of green and been incredibly outspoken although now appeared near skeletal and withdrawn.

"Lady Wylla, it is safe now. I am Jon Targaryen and I am here to return your city to you." Jon said gently extending his hand to the girl that was younger than Arya. He could only imagine how she had been treated and wanted her looked at by a maester immediately. Behind him Obara looked on in pity, she was experienced enough to knows the ways of the world but it was still a bitter thing to see.

Wylla looked at Jon with terror and shuffled away for a moment before his grey eyes caught hers and whether it the traditional grey eyes of the North or his soft voice that calmed her, either way her thin hand slowly reached out to his and for a moment she hesitated wondering if this was a dream or some kind of trap like the Red Bitches who had been playing mind games with her for weeks, coming to her in all kinds of guises including the illusion of her own father, the man that they had burned to death. She wanted to recoil away from what was likely another ruse to trick her but something about this man's warm grey eye made her feel safe…that it was right to trust him so she continued to reach out until her hand touched his.

-x-

With one of the last members of House Manderly rescued Jon had the flaming heart banners of Stannis torn down across the city and the red three headed dragon raised in their place alongside the direwolf of House Stark. As he and Ghost looked out across the city from a balcony of Wolf's Den he gently rubbed the wolf's ears and felt the familiar cold breezes of his homeland. It was comforting despite the temperature and he turned to his wolf and said.

"Ghost, we are home." He smiled down at his wolf whose tail was wagging in agreement.