The Lord Of the Storm

The prince swung his blade to counter the attack from behind, with the sword of his opponent almost knocking him down. He looked to see Sorrell huffing out of breath again, even though the man was a sharper swordsman than his cousin Luthor. Jacob needed this time, to retain and to get his skill sharpened again. He was going to be on the frontline, when the war with the Boltons and Freys comes to ahead in Winterfell, and he will need to be at his best and full strength to win so he could and stay alive.

Through the battles in this long war, Jacob has grown up and not compromised anything that could cost him his life on the field. He had grown from the arrogant boy, who wanted to go to war to kill Lannisters to a self-assured man, ready to do anything to reclaim the north from the cutthroats, who rule it now. The prince kept banging away with his sword against Sorrell's, as the knight made a good sparring partner and was someone, who would be willing to challenge him, unlike his scared cousin.

"Luthor is too much of a chicken to fight me; he is afraid father will punish him for injuring me by accident. He was an important member of the King's Men and spent most of his time with them through the last seven days. He was home with them, as they worshipped the seven like him."

The sword of Sorrell was flung across the snows, and Sorrell heeled in defeat. Not when the knight then pulled out of knife from under his jerkin, and the prince kicked it out of his hand. Sorrell didn't mean to have the knife out, but it was an example of the trickery the Freys and Boltons might pull on the battlefield and have the prince's guard down to kill him. Jacob knew the price of making a mistake, and a small mistake like that could cost him his life and the lives of the soldiers fighting with him.

The knight stood to his feet and brushed off the snow from his clothes. Sorrell's hand didn't look to be too sore from the prince's heavy boot kick. He was chuffed, at the thought of the snowstorm continuing, even though Jacob lost track of time, since the remainants of his father Stannis's army left Deepwood Motte. The storm kept on raging ,and he knew Roose Bolton was too comfortable warming himself in Winterfell's hearth and fires that did not belong to him or his demented house.

He was more distant with his father, since the Karstark forces came to the encampment. All he dealt with was the blatant arse kissing from the grandsons of Arnolf, whom all three of them were the sons of Arthor, the foolish of the Karstark men. They were despicable and entitled little boys, who needed to have their mouths sewn shut by needlepoint. He knows he will count down the days, where he will be miserable being Alys Karstark's husband and having to be lord over these insignificant northmen and their ilk.

"You could have broken my left hand, my prince," Sorrell said, in a neutral tone of voice. He didn't seem angry at what the prince had done. "My sword hand would still be intact."

"I can't afford to be reckless, not this late in the game." Prince Jacob replied.

"Your training has improved, since we started sparring together."

"I needed to do something with myself and sitting in a warm tent wasn't going to do anything for me in the meantime."

"Must you be reminded of your duty to the Karstark girl, you are meant to marry days after the battle or are you too busy conversing with the Greyjoy woman to notice." The knight said, with bitterness in his tone.

"Whom I talk to is none of your business?"

"I'm only looking out for your best interests, Your Grace. The Greyjoy woman has something foul about her."

"All Greyjoys are foul, Ser Grimm. It's who they are and who they destined to be. Pirates and rapers and nothing more."

"What would keeping her with us do for us?"

"It's only for show, for my father to present a token to the lords of the north. Here, he would say, throwing the Greyjoy woman in chains in front of their feet. All that to gain another army to fight for the throne again."

"Do you want to continue this war?"

"I want it to be over, Sorrell. I'm tired of fighting to be honest, but this war determines the future of our house whether I like it or not."

"The Karstark men are not too pleasant to look at either, do you truly want to play lord over them."

"I have no choice. Alys Karstark will be my wife and my mother, the queen and the other Florents will have to adjust to it."

"I am very sorry for you, my prince. It is clear on your face, you do not want to marry this girl. Your father is desperate for this alliance to work out, but the Manderly one proves more fruitful for us."

The prince never thought Sorrell, a King's Man would be on his side, in terms of the difference in the northern alliances on offer. He must be as Jacob's sworn shield and someone, he gave a purpose to, as he would have resided to fixing ships in Oldtown had the two not met each other. He sensed something crawling down his spine when he thought of his bleak future as a member of the Karstark household. It would not be so bad, had Lord Rickard and his sons had not died in the war.

The Karstark men were terrible and were not making a lasting good impression on the prince, but they were able to fool the king this long with their false niceties. Jacob hated looking in the eyes of Arnolf, as it reminded him of the all the times, the Septon in Horn Hill would discipline him for small things he considered a sin, like looking at noble girls from House Ashford or even having flaws, such as jealousy and anger creeping on the forefront of his mind when Jacob fell short of something Garlan Tyrell did with ease and he was a second son of the patriarch, who benefitted more from the Lannisters downfall than being allies with them.

"It does not matter now, Sorrell. As my sworn shield, your loyalty will extend towards my future wife and she will need your sword against her great uncle and hideous cousins." Prince Jacob said, in a dull tone.

"Killing them would be considered a pleasure, my prince." Sorrell said, with a smile on his face. He was sharpening his blade with a whetstone given to him by Luthor.

"Only if I have seen them acting disloyally and playing my father for a fool. My father will believe his only son and heir over these arse lickers."

"Why do you think they are here?"

"They are desperate. With Lord Rickard and his sons dead; they want to get rid of Alys the only way they could. By selling her to me and my father for an alliance and then taking her birthright of Karhold and the lands surrounding it away."

"The king will not listen to a common knight like me, but you he will believe if you see anything."

"You do not know my father like I do, ser. He is a stubborn animal, who does not listen to reason when it comes from someone else."

"What if his life was in danger?"

"The only time he will actually listen to someone other than his obeying knights."

"The Karstark men need to be watched. I do not trust their intentions, as they may seem good on the outside, but they will want to take advantage of our weaknesses."

"You may be right, ser, but I do not know yet. I have to investigate further on."

The prince does not know what to think. He needed to see what the Karstarks were really doing and if the marriage alliance was a guise for something else they were planning. They could have gone over to the Boltons and submit to their rule and they would be safe in Karhold, but they defied Roose Bolton and all his authority and joined the prince and his father in the war against him and his Frey good family. Prince Jacob was glad to have Sorrell around, even though he was only a sworn shield. His opinions mattered to Jacob more than the opinions of the high lords around him, all because the man was honest and did not bite his tongue around him. Jacob cherished what alliance he had with his sworn shield, but did not want to consider him a friend. As he was afraid of growing to attached to him and being too trusting, which was what led to the betrayal of his great uncle Alester.

Jacob shook his head at the thought. He did not need friends but needed good allies who made good on their promises on their deals. The man was never away from his father this long, but it was a good thing as it was helping to develop his leadership skills and how to hone them when he is alone and without his father's guidance. He was a man of eight and ten, but he still has the thoughts of the boy of five and ten, who valiantly joined his father in fighting the Lannisters and his own uncle Renly.

"Why am I thinking these things? The battle is about to happen, and I should be ready to remove the head of Bolton's bastard and let the snows be painted with his blood. It should be justice enough for the things he had done to the northerners."

The snows did not let up, with the prince and Sorrell retiring to Jacob's tent, which had the sigil of the black stag on a golden field, the original Baratheon sigil before the war between brothers began years ago. He never took the new sigil his father had taken, due to his association with Melisandre, as it presented a bad omen and a warning from the Seven. As a loyal worshipper, Jacob kept to the Seven, even though he still questioned his faith from time to time. He knew his gods needed him in the battle against the red god, who sought to set the Seven Kingdoms alight through blood and destruction.

The prince listened to the Karstark men talking to occupy his time, most of the conversation was about the turncloak Theon Greyjoy and how he was not at the Dreadfort anymore, but inside the walls of Winterfell and was a sorry sight to see. Jacob did not want to think what his old enemy would look like, after the Bastard of Bolton was done with him. He heard the legendary tales of the torture chambers and the flaying knives the members of House Bolton used through the centuries for their own sick pleasure, until the Stark in Winterfell put them down, like the dogs they were. As a boy sentenced to Winterfell for his punishment, listening to stories and such things from Jon, Robb and Theon were the norm to him, even though stories like that were abhorrent in the south and people there like to soften the horror stories to make themselves seem superior to each other.

The man liked sitting on his own created seat, as it made him feel powerful, as his father, but he knew how to retain such power, unlike his father who always threw away valuable alliances all because of his morals and hard sense of justice to the law. Jacob sensed he may not know his father as well as he thought he did. The distance did them some good, but they were better together than not, as a united family. He did not understand why his sense of morality was rattled suddenly, all for an ironborn woman sentenced to imprisonment for life. Asha did not fit the qualities Jacob liked about women, she was brash, proud scum of the Iron Islands and never had her convoluted sense of mind challenged, until their last meeting. He hated to admit he liked having the ironborn around to make things interesting, stopping the King's Men and Queen's Men from opening each other's throats bored him, and Jacob was a Baratheon and craved excitement in an otherwise boring war camp.

The tent opened to reveal just the woman he was thinking off. Asha's legs may not have been shackled anymore, but she was still trapped in this war camp, as much as Jacob was. The difference was that she always had an armed escort with her, whether it was Ser Justin or Lady Alysane with her. The two sods were lucky to be in her company all the time, she was not bad to talk to and could keep up with Jacob, unlike the Tyrells he had grown up with Highgarden. Underneath the pirate bravado laid someone as wanton as he used to be, before good old Ned Stark decided to train that wildness out of him. Asha liked what she liked, and that was what stayed with Jacob in his memory. He had nothing to offer her but his cock, but as an unmarried man, he knew what she could be after and may be she fancied herself with a southorn crown on her head.

The prince raised his hand to dismiss his sworn shield, he saw the agitated look on Sorrell's face. He could not believe Jacob was asking him to leave him alone with a woman, who would rather kill him than make any kind of peace with him, as long as he was the son of the man, who ordered her imprisonment. The knight left the tent in haste, which widened Jacob's eyes. He did not want Sorrell to feel like he did not matter, but the knight was important to him in the grand scheme of things. Sorrell used his sword to defend Jacob, and openly talked about his dislike for King Stannis in front of his son. The man integrated himself into Jacob's life not by fate, but by happenstance when they met each other on the ports of Oldtown. It made Jacob remember, he was dumped further south by soldiers of House Rowan, but he never really had a problem with that house, knowing he was close to marrying Mathis Rowan's daughter, had the rumours of her being soiled not reached his father's ears. It was years ago, and when the Seven Kingdoms was somewhat at peace.

Prince Jacob was empty inside. He felt nothing when Sorrell left, but he was alone with the woman, who may not end up being his best friend, but could be a useful ally when the time came to kill Roose Bolton and his bastard Ramsay on the field of battle. The man rubbed the side of his forehead, not to show any ounce of weakness or the dishonourable Greyjoy will use it against him. He was tired, and he did not want to admit it, of the war, the politics of marriage and everything else. He wanted it to be over with the snap of his fingers and everything will be good, but life did not work out that way, and it was a lesson his father taught him.

"Is there something I can do for you, Greyjoy?" The prince said, in a biting tone. He was in the mood to talk, especially to someone who made him question what he knew over the last month.

"There is plenty you can do for me, sweet green prince." Asha replied, in a haughtiness in her tone.

"I warned you not to call me that before."

"What's wrong? Don't like being called sweet at all, it's better than being your usual unpleasant self?"

"Better than being compared to the likes of men, whom I despise."

"You have a lot of anger in your heart, greenlander."

"As false as your marriage may be, you are still married, and I do not philander with married women. I have my principles."

"The man is old enough to be my great-grandfather. Pity he does not have the coin to bargain for my release, but staying with you might make things much more interesting." The ironborn captain said, placing a hand on his shoulder in a ginger manner. The prince's eyes widened, not used to the touch of a woman for years, since he left Highgarden.

"I'm not buying what you are selling to me, Greyjoy." The man said, pushing the Greyjoy's hand away from him.

"You are the only greenlander to reject me, other than your father. Thought about seducing him before I knew he was married to your mother. You might have to do, an unmarried greenlander in the middle of a war." Asha winked her eye at the prince.

"That's repulsive, how do you sleep at night, my lady."

"I sleep, quite comfortably under the extra furs provided by my champion Ser Justin."

"You are just as jaded as I am. We are not so different from each other, the only thing that separates us is our families and our sigils."

"None of our families have a future if we don't survive this war." Asha said, not in her usual bravado, but as a genuine person considered about the survival of her house when she is it's remaining heir.

The prince never knew Asha had that side of her, maybe it was only reserved for those closest to her. He envied those men languishing in the dungeons of Deepwood Motte, but especially the two men he captured, who were apparently her lovers and shared their affections for her between them. Sad men, but as ironborn men, those two were fortunate to have been in the service of Balon Greyjoy's last heir and to have shared her bed as well. Why did his mind have to go there? Was his mind full of filth and deviance that he could not stop thinking these things about a woman, who he had no intention of being allies with, unless it was on his terms and he controlled the circumstances of such a union between them. The man was good at pretending to be a chaste boy, when he was just as vulgar as his womanising uncle, but the difference was Jacob was able to hide his wild nature more than his uncle did with his public displays and did not bother hiding his whores, even when married to the daughter of the most powerful man in the Seven Kingdoms.

"Isn't Ser Justin supposed to watch you, he will get a tongue lashing from my father, knowing he lost you again, under his supervision." Prince Jacob said, in a sombre tone.

"I have little of my freedom, I use it to my advantage. I am not shackled as I was anymore. Smile, greenlander. Your enemies will be dead shortly." Asha replied.

"Not the enemies in Winterfell I worry about, my lady, but the enemies closest to home I concern myself with."

"I'm a killer of sorts, and I will do such for you."

"I'm not the idiot Robb Stark was, and no way will I ever accept any help from the likes of you. Keep your hands to yourself or else you will not have hands."

"Are you threatening me, greenlander?"

"I threatened lesser men, and you are no man as you pretend to be one."

Jacob did not understand, when Asha chuckled at his sentiment. He was confused, but did not get why she was not seething with anger with his direct threat. He knew she tried to fling herself onto him, as the only available man she could stand to look at. The prince was not swayed to what she was offering to him, to kill his enemies with the swing of her axe and he liked the idea. An idea he would take to bed with him later tonight and mull over it. The ironborn woman had a big, sharp nose, as he always noticed and strangely, he found it attractive on her, but it was something he would never admit to anyone, especially the overly critical Sorrell and the fool Luthor and it was a secret he wanted to keep to himself. All princes and kings had secrets, so why could not Jacob have some of his own, to occupy his time away from his father Stannis.

"Your father said something of a sort to me long ago." Asha said.

"You should listen carefully; my father is not a man to be trifled with and I know the consequences of those who try to." Jacob replied, in a stern tone.

"Are you truly made of the same stone as your father or something more?"

"You may know or not know, as it said before, my lady. I am an enigma amongst my own kind."

"I offer to kill your enemies, and a blank answer is what you give me."

"I never said yes or not, maybe you still might have a chance with me."

"More of your pretty southorn lies or are you considering my offer?"

"You will have to work it out for yourself." The prince said, with a triumphant smile on his face. His great aunt Melara always said his wide smile brought out the best of his Baratheon features. It made him look attractive to the southern girls of the Reach, as he remembered his great-aunt saying.

The prince knew at the back of his mind, what he was doing was wrong. Conversing with one enemy, whilst thinking about ways to kill the others, who were circling his father like crows. As someone branded a rebel by all of Westeros, he lived up to the rebel title given to him. Asha sticking around mattered to him, even though he was never going to ally with her, but things were exciting with someone to challenge everything he believed to be true in his life to think a whole new way of being. He learned more from being in the war camp with Greyjoy than he did at Castle Black stuck with his father, the King.

The prince and his sworn shield were trekking through the trenches of snow, which landed on their boots and the snowflakes almost covering their dark coloured furs from the storm blowing in this direction. Jacob was needed by his father, as it was heard someone important arrived in the crofter's village and he was called to be there. He would be foolish to ignore any vital summons from his father, even though the two never saw eye to eye on the same problems, but if there was someone of importance, who was useful for their cause in the north, then there is no harm in meeting this person and even sharing bread and wine with them.

He hated the thought of the Greyjoy woman getting to him, as it was a weakness to admit it himself. Jacob was his father's son and she was a prized hostage. He did not like the nagging tone of Sorrell circling his mind of how conversing with Asha was wrong, but it was none of the knight's business whatsoever and he can talk to whomever he wanted to. The sworn shield should know his place, before offering his useless criticism on such matters. Jacob was a man grown and he could make his own choices, for better or worse. It was his badge of dishonour to wear and he was happy to. He had enough of the vain notions of honour, all because men like his father Stannis and Ned Stark abided by them so much. He was not perfect and made his own fair share of mistakes, which cost him dearly as a boy of four and ten, but it was something his father effused to acknowledge about him, being his only son and heir.

There was commotion in the war camp, as it was to be expected. As everyone was on constant alert because the closeness of the village to Winterfell. It reminded him of the watchtower's view of the seat of House Stark from the distance. He hated looking it because the castle had been a prison for him, after the Reacher dispute years ago at first. A southern boy was not meant for a northern castle at the time and he hated the cold when he first arrived there. Taking a glimpse of the castle every night before bed became a regular thing for the prince to do, even though staying in Winterfell at the time had been a punishment, but he didn't regret having fonder memories of his time there as well.

The prince and the knight walked past the numerous flags of the smaller houses, whom joined his father in the war against the Boltons and Freys. It was a thing to see northern unity amongst those, who wanted to bathe in the blood of Boltons. He ignored Sorrell on their journey to the watchtower, as there was nothing to be said between the two men. Jacob knew Sorrell was someone, who would tell him the harsh truth, even though he did not like to hear it. He was a man, who was starting to enjoy the freedoms of making his own choices, even though most of his choices were not the best in terms of leading by example, as the prince.

"The Umber men are acting strange, my prince. What do you think it is?" Ser Sorrell asked.

"I don't know, but northerners have their way of doing things," Prince Jacob replied. "It's best not to get in their way."

"You are putting your future in jeopardy, all for ironborn scum condemned by your father."

"What do you mean by it?" Jacob asked, in a raised voice.

"I notice the way you have changed, since she became your father's prize and you dismissed me when she is around."

"You are my sworn shield, not Davos. As I remind you of your place, ser."

"Your future is not to be a womaniser like your uncle."

"Do not speak to me, as if you are my father or Davos for that matter."

The man stiffened, when Sorrell made light of Uncle Robert's womanising. Jacob knew about it, since he was a child, and even used it against his uncle when he dared to judge him for being young and in love with Desmera. Talking with Asha did not make him alike to his uncle, as the prince did not enjoy the company of anyone looking to bed him at all. He was a patient man and wanted to keep it that way, until his wedding night to the Karstark girl. The fostering in Highgarden taught Jacob lessons he would not have learned in the Vale or in the Stormlands; he learned about the pleasures of the bedchambers and the Tyrell girls were not shy of teaching him what women liked done to them. He may have less than honourable qualities about him, but all Jacob desired was to be the best husband he can be to Alys, better than the men of his house.

As the war came to a standstill, Jacob knew the shortage of brides affected him and his father, in terms of gaining alliances with other houses. His father claimed Alys was the best bride he could hope for, but it was the same thing he said about Sansa Stark years ago. It was not true, as his sire was a terrible liar. Jacob knew the best bride he could be offered came from House Manderly and his father knew it. Why go along with the Karstark alliance, when a better one was on offer? He did not understand his father Stannis's stubbornness in ignoring the better opportunities in front of him, just so he could prove his way was the right way.

The prince and his sworn shield climbed the steps to get to the watchtower, as it was made of great stone bricks and this place lasted if it did. He was excited, to meet this mystery guest his father wanted him to be around for and he was happy to be host to anyone, who could help support his father in the war effort. Jacob would gladly say goodbye to the watchtower soon, as he was sick of it and its monotony and greyness. It almost made him believe the maiden trapped in tower stories might be true. The sworn knight opened the hard, stone door by the brass handle, and the two stepped inside the tower. The place was warmer than it was before he left. As the heat radiating from the flames heated the stone-cold walls around him. The prince was gladdened to be embraced by the warmth, rather than he suffocated by the storms of snow outside.

Sitting on the long table was his father, King Stannis sharing a goblet of wine with a man Jacob raised his eyebrow at. The man's fashion looked compatible to a mummer's show master, with his brimeless three-tiered hat in purple and eye-catching robes with a high stiff collar. He was tall and thin underneath the heavy clothes he wore. The stranger's eyes were dark, which made the prince aware if the man was a potential enemy to him and his father. His long beard was almost to his waist, which made the prince and the sworn knight insecure about their own facial hair on their respective faces. The prince had his arms folded, with his heavy furs on him causing discomfort, as the warmth of the hearth's fires were getting to him and his shield.

"I see you are entertaining our mystery guest already." Prince Jacob said, pulling up a chair for himself to sit on. As Sorrell closed the door of the tower behind him, standing by the prince's side as he should be.

"Is this your esteemed warrior son, Your Grace? It is a shame such a man is still unwed." The man asked, in a tone, which made Jacob mind his manners, when around this foreign stranger his father hosted.

"Father, who is this man?"

"This is Tycho Nestoris, an envoy of the Iron Bank of Braavos. You know of these men and their work, since you served Robert in administrative work long ago." King Stannis replied.

"The men, who collect the debts of the throne and give loans in hopes of a return investment on their parts."

"I was guided by men in the service of the Lady Sybelle Glover and released a few ironmen to help guide me through the storm. I have been searching for your father for some time."

"And you found him and what is it you are offering to my father and our cause?"

"The service of the Iron Bank and an opportunity to push your father, His Grace closer to the throne."

"As my most valuable counsellor, Jacob. You have a much of a part in this as I do." King Stannis said, in a strained tone.

"He must be dedicated to survive the worse snowstorm in the north and to still be alive in one piece."

"I had a pleasant stay in Castle Black, and kept company with your queen mother, Prince Jacob."

"What you are asking of my father is a lot, banker? To potentially pay the debts of Uncle Robert and those two blonde abominations on the throne."

"Your father will have the support of the Iron Bank, as long as there is a return investment in our mutual agreement."

"As long as he is sat on the Iron Throne. Did the Lannisters forget to pay their debts? For a house famous for paying their debts, they have done a poor job on paying the debts of illborn kings."

"I understand your reservations, no one can be trusted these days. I'm offering you and your father the greatest opportunity possible."

"My son needs time to consider such an offer on the table, as we will not walk into this deal blindly."

The prince noticed his father glaring at him, as it he was going to ruin the whole deal with the Iron Bank before it has been signed. He was bothered by the presence of the foreign banker, as it was within his rights to feel this way, Jacob trusted no one and played the game well because of it. He examined the banker closely and wondered if allowing him in was the best of ideas. The Iron Bank, unlike the wealthy northern lord had the means and the resources to help his father on his path to the throne. He looked at Sorrell, who stood at his side and did not want to ask his thoughts, whilst Nestoris was in the room with his father. Jacob did not like the fact this mummer's master man had the ironborn men he imprisoned released for coin. It was the soldiers of Asha Greyjoy he helped to defeat and put away in the dungeons of Deepwood Motte. Was Nestoris trying to undo the hard work Jacob did in the battle of the Wolfswood or was he trying to antagonise him with his wilful ignorance of everything?

Prince Jacob and his father had different views, but when it came their ambitions, they were one in the same. To depose the Lannisters and anyone, who stood at their side go down with them. If this man from Braavos was going to help them on their path to the Red Keep, then Jacob will have to trust his father's judgement about him. He knew being this far in the game and being alive was all due to awareness for his surroundings and his way of being critical of people. Jacob had one leg over the other, as he knew this meeting was no small talk, especially when the future of his and his father's successes in the war depended on the proper supporters with the financial backing for them to succeed further in the war.

"You said you kept company with my mother, the rightful queen." The prince said, wanting to know what the answer would be. He had not seen his mother, since he and his father left Eastwatch to go to the west of the mountains to ask the mountain clans for support in the war.

"She told me great deal about you. I see why she is so proud of you, the esteemed heir." The banker replied.

"Enough of the niceties, you are here because you want to offer a deal and to contribute significant coin to me." King Stannis said, in an iron tone.

"Of course, and I see you value your son enough for him to be involved in this meeting. I apologise, Prince Jacob. I did mistake you for one of the northmen around here. I did not realise you were the king's son, unless he told me so."

"You sought to undo the work I did imprisoning the ironborn rapers, you paid to be released. Those men were complicit in the invasion of northern lands. They deserved to rot in the dungeons for life."

"This is not the time for this." The king interrupted, not wanting Jacob to dwell on things from the battle of Deepwood Motte.

"Those men could have died in those storms, and still you will not be satisfied. A hard man to please, just like your father."

"When the battle comes, my son will stand by me as he has always done. It is what I expect of the men around me.

"I must not forget. The queen requested me to give something to the prince. It is right a mother misses her son, when he is so close to the battlefield." The Braavosi said, handing Prince Jacob two letters, to his hand.

The prince did not understand why Tycho Nestoris would do such a thing for him, even though it was a favour from his mother. Holding the letters between his fingertips made his fingers shake, Jacob had not seen his mother, before departing from Eastwatch. As a man grown, he still allowed for moments of weakness, only for those he loved and mainly his mother, Queen Selyse. He hated to remember her aching sobs when he left for the west of the north. It dawned on Jacob how much fighting in the war affected his mother, knowing how many noble ladies in Westeros have lost their sons in the war and some end up motherless because of the game of thrones. He held the letters in his hand, as they were visible reminders of his mother still caring and loving him from a distance. The man saw the letters scrawled in his mother's writing and he opened the first letter in his hand, and it had more than one page to it.

My son….

I am writing to tell you how much I love, and I miss you. I am furious with your stubborn-minded father for allowing you to continue fighting in the north, but I understand why you need to fight. You feel you need to prove something to your father, but I know you will make a great leader to the men fighting for the futures of you and your sister for years to come. I was in the company of Tycho Nestoris of the Iron Bank, and we had great talks in Eastwatch, even though he was searching for you and your father, and in need of his counsel. This man is important to the future of you and your father's victories in the war, as the Iron Bank deposes those who do not pay their debts to them. I'm glad you ended whatever sordid friendship you had with the bastard lord commander, it's not right for a prince to socialise with those beneath him. It is great you have agreed with your father's command for you to marry the Karstark girl.

It breaks me to know, I will never see you get married, my only boy walking down the alter with his northern bride. It's unfortunate because I wanted a southorn bride for you to settle with when the war ended, I knew you were fond of the Rowan girl before she soiled herself. I hope to R'hllor you are still alive when you get these letters, your sister Shireen misses you more than she lets on. You should have stayed with me and your sister, as we are surrounded by savage wildlings and black brothers. You are a man and your place is on the battlefield with your father. Uncle Axell has been keeping the remaining Queen's Men in order in your father's absence and misses your keen sense of humour. I am proud of your victories in Highpoint and Deepwood Motte, and I never thought my boy was the one, who defeated Balon Greyjoy's daughter in those savage woods. You do not need to worry for me, I have the Queen's Men, Uncle Axell and the Lady Melisandre around me. I pray to the fires of R'hllor every night and day for your safety.

I hope to see you soon, after you crush the Boltons and Freys on the battlefield.

From your mother.

A tear fell from one of the prince's blue eyes. He did not know what to think when reading his mother's words in writing. Jacob began to realise how much his mother was suffering without his presence with her. He knew she was strong enough to handle anything, especially being married to a solemn person like his father for many years and to endure the misery she did for him and Shireen. The queen was able to cope before, especially with Melisandre at her side, but this time Jacob leaving has rattled his queen mother to the point of her asking a foreigner to pass letters onto him through the North, the middle of a rebellion and a war.

The prince was alone during a heavy day of the storms brewing. The snows were never going to let up, as it has been this way, since they all left Deepwood Motte and how it was a sign of this winter going to be a long one. He missed the long summer, as it was easier to wear clothes without the excessive furs and hard boots on his feet. He adapted to the storm, as best he could, even though he was a southorn man and was used to the cold the north brought upon him. Prince Jacob had just left the longhall, after seeing Luthor entertaining the remaining bannermen his father had left. His cousin never paid much attention to him because he wanted to gain popularity amongst the northerners and the southerners in the army. It must be Luthor way of dealing with the homesickness, but he never cared to tell anyone, all because he wanted to gain glory and honour for himself in the war.

There was something wrong, as the crofter's village was close to Winterfell and why haven't the Boltons attacked them yet. The prince shook his head at the realisation if the newly released ironborn scum from Deepwood Motte were responsible for the discord in the war camp. He was furious how Tycho Nestoris had released ironborn men; he personally had captured and locked up after the battle of the Wolfswood. It was like his hard work and bravery on the battlefield meant nothing, but the envoy from Braavos offered his father an opportunity, and it was another stone set on the path for his father to claim the throne.

"Why did Nestoris give me the letters from the Wall? He was not obligated to do so. It must be his way of trying to win my trust and the trust of my father. Foreigners are not to be trusted, as Melisandre is an example of such. My mother missed me a lot, and it shows within her writing. She was also torn between wishing me luck on the war and being angry with father for bringing me further south to fight the war."

The prince stepped on the heavier mounds of snow on the ground. Little white flakes of snow were covering his arms. He needed a stroll away from everyone else, and even his sworn shield and cousin. There were rumours of Mors Crowfood bringing in two runaways to his father and did not want anyone else to know about it. Jacob was not concerned at all, as people are brought to his father all the time and nothing happened to them afterwards. The Karstarks would not do anything that jeopardised their ambitions of being linked to the rightful royal family, by doing something that would endanger Jacob and his father.

He had his three layers of black cloaks and furs wrapped around his body, and the golden trim around his neck to make him look a true Baratheon, unlike the blonde abominations, who sat on his father's throne and stained the Baratheon name. It made his skin crawl of the idea of making more difficult choices, as the war went on. He did what he needed to do to secure his victories on the battlefield, and even say the vows in front of the Seven and the Godswood to Alys Karstark to secure the future for his family. Uncle Robert said war was the last bastion of manhood before being constrained into the prison that was marriage, but all Jacob saw growing up in terms of marriages were discontent and poison between the couples in his family.

The man's thoughts were moving towards Asha Greyjoy. He shook his head, every time he thought of her. It disgusted him to even think he enjoyed her company. The company of an ironborn invader and the last of Balon Greyjoy's line. Jacob was meant to be focused on the incoming battle against the Bolton and Frey armies, and not his mind straying towards a woman destined for life imprisonment. No one understood the true symptom of being lonely, and the pain that came with it. There was no one Jacob connected with on an equal level, who was not a mindless knight or servant who obeyed him without a thought. Sorrell nor his cousin Luthor could understand the noring ache of isolation within Jacob, them only being knights, who could make friends with anyone of the King's Men or any of the northmen fighting this war on their side.

"Was what it I feel towards Asha than I would feel towards Desmera? Was it disgust of who she was and how she is proud to be an ironborn invader? Or was the disgust more towards myself for subconsciously lusting after her when I am going to marry Alys days after the reclamation of Winterfell. It's so wrong and I was raised in an environment where sexual freedoms in secret dens were the norm in the Reach, away from the watchful eyes of lord fathers and lady mothers."

The prince was twiddling his fingers, and the thoughts towards his budding adolescence and trying to find himself in a world, where everything was laid out in front of him. He was no novice to the pleasures of the bedchambers and enjoyed his dalliances before he met Desmera, and all hell from that meeting broke loose. Would things have been different had Jacob not fallen in love with Desmera and one of the minor Tyrell girls instead? It was just nonsense from his adolescent years, that should have been snuffed out of his mind, the moment Jacob was punished and sent to Winterfell so dear old Ned Stark can correct his wild ways.

Prince Jacob walked past a few of the northern tents, as it had the sigils of those houses, with the southern tents being on the other side of the camp. He held onto his mother's letters under his cloak, as it was the only thing he had of her that was new. He raised an eyebrow, as he caught a few voices from the distance and he did not know who those voices belonged to. The man walked further, towards the Karstark tent and stood at a considerable distance, as he could not afford to be seen lurking about like a spy.

"What do you mean, my lord? The king is not as imprudent as you believe him to be." A gravely tone of voice said, as it sounded as if it came from an old man.

"Of course, he's not. He's got that hairy son of his whispering in his ear. A false alliance was needed to get us closer to the king." Another voice replied, as It sounded familiar with its brazen arrogant tone.

"You made a big mistake, Lord Harald. You gave the prince a cause to be suspicious of you and your dim-witted family members and the other brother, the fool almost exposed us for good."

"Maester Tybald, may I remind you who you work for. Unless, you want me to tell Stannis what you have been doing and see who the king believes, his soon to be good family or a no good maester, who serves the Boltons."

"You and your family are despicable, lying to the king for a marriage alliance that will not happen. Lord Arnolf informed me of your family's plot for your brother to steal Karhold by marrying Lord Rickard's daughter behind the king's back, knowing he intended to marry the girl off to his son."

"My father trusts you too much, maester. No one is afraid of Stannis, because of his poor defeat at the Blackwater, but his son is more formidable than him, all because he is a man and unmarried, there are many high lords, who will throw their daughters at him the second they know he is alive."

"You are right, Lord Harald. The man must be dealt with, knowing he is the main instrument behind Stannis's successes in ridding the north of the ironborn, the wildlings and cleared the Whitehills of their own lands and gave it to the Forresters. Get rid of him and Stannis Baratheon will falter and will have to rely on the narrow-minded soldiers of his council to advise him."

"The benefits weight for more than the risk, Tybald. For years, we were stuck under the thumbs of Lord Rickard and Ned Stark, and this marriage my father proposed will put our family under the thumb of Stannis Baratheon and he will have control of Karhold, and whatever grandchildren Alys births him."

"Your brother Arthor, my lord. He will ruin this, unless he cannot handle the pressure these plans require. We are almost close, the war for the north will begin and we will finally have that witch worshipping demon and his whelp off our lands and his armies scattered across the north."

"My father will have him straight, but there have been complications. The wretched girl ran away from Karhold, as soon as she knew she was not marrying a prince. She was our most valuable pawn and to give her away to the spawn of Stannis Baratheon will be a waste of a good opportunity for us."

"What if Stannis marries off his son to one of the unwed Umber daughters or even Lord Manderly's granddaughters, your lot and the Boltons will be in trouble. An unwed son is the greatest advantage Stannis has."

The prince could believe what he was hearing, as it validated his doubts about the Karstarks, and him wanting to find out if there was a bigger plot surrounding this alliance. He knew at the back of his mind Lord Arnolf was plotting to seize Karhold and the Karstark lands, from under the main line and passing it onto himself and his sons. It was an underhanded play, and Alys was a pawn in all of this. She was not going to be his wife, but forced to become the spouse of that disgusting rat known as Cregan Karstark. Terrible as it was, Alys was the heir of House Karstark, if her brother Harrion is still alive and held hostage at Maidenpool.

Jacob needed to tell Sorrell and Luthor what he had learned. He knew the voices belonged to Harald Karstark and some maester called Tybald, the one brought with Arnolf's retinue, but he was not the maester of Karhold, but from the Dreadfort. It was a wide plot involving the Karstark men, Maester Tybald and Roose Bolton, all in an alliance to get rid of Jacob and his father Stannis, to cripple their successful war campaign in the north and to crush them. He was glad, even though it was wrong to have relief, knowing Alys ran away from home and must be seeking protection from Cregan and rode to the Wall.

The infolding of this treachery has consequences, knowing the men involved will be executed on his father's orders and Jacob will be without a bride once again. He was guilty of being relieved his former bride has fled her captors and false marriage to find freedom. The men in the tent were still there, but were not ready to leave, even though the prince was hiding behind another tent, belonging to a smaller northern house. Jacob had a habit of spying on people, especially on Mace Tyrell and his bannermen, when he was young, by listening through the walls of Highgarden, even though he never got caught by them.

"My father requested you send another map, as the raven for the previous was killed by a renegade arrow and he wants it done quickly." The voice of Harald said, in a tone of malice, clearing trying to intimidate the maester.

"It will be done, my lord." The voice of Maester Tybald replied.

"You are the key to this plot being a success. I am grateful for your information of the happenings with Cregan and Alys. My father will appreciate your service when everything is done and those Baratheon southorns are dead."

"If the wretched girl is gone, it does not matter. Lord Bolton will reward you and your brothers with Frey wives and the castles of empty houses, if everything goes to plan."

"My father will need to see you soon, Tybald."

Prince Jacob hid behind the tent, as he watched an old man leave the tent with his maester chains jangling, as he walked out. His heart was racing, knowing he was in dangerous waters, but he could not help it. He enjoyed the thrills playing the game gave him and the risks it involved. It was much more interesting than swinging a sword on the battlefield, but he noticed Harald was still in the tent, unknowingly smug with himself and thinking his plans will ever blossom. Jacob knew the Karstarks led by Arnold were no good, but it seems his doubts were proven right and they were plotting to kill both the prince and his father for Roose Bolton, anything to dampen their successful campaign and have it end at being stabbed in the back by the uglier Karstarks and that smug maester, who deserved to be strangled.

"What if Alys goes to the Wall? She will surely get help from Jon, being distantly related to him through blood. My mother is also at the Wall, and is also pushing for the Karstark marriage, as well as father does. She will surely protect her, knowing she is an unwed bride. The poor girl has had a rough time, in terms of betrothals with her previous two being killed on the battlefield against the Kingslayer and being forced to marry her distant cousin for power."

The man realised what Arthor said at the dinner table, almost gave his family away and could have ended their plotting, but Arnolf stopped him in his tracks. It was not the mouth of the youngest son that would have exposed them, but it was the mouths of the Dreadfort maester and the middle son, which will unravel their plot for them. In Jacob's opinion, Roose Bolton was lazy and relied on fools to do his dirty work for him, as his list of war crimes mount up. The Leech Lord can hide behind Winterfell all he wants to, but sooner he will face to face the rightful king and his heir on the battlefield with sword in hand and not by being a coward.

Jacob knew his father Stannis was still hosting the banker Nestoris, as the man had the means and finances to allow his father to succeed in the game of thrones, whilst the Lannisters and Tyrells fight each other for whatever scraps of power there is for them to fight for. As much as Jacob hated hiding, he liked it as it gave him the advantage. Being a man of eight and ten and unmarried in the middle of a war, which is still going on, even though the other side believe they have won it. He and his father knew Roose Bolton had a Frey wife, and she would make a lovely prisoner next to Asha Greyjoy and the treacherous Barbrey Dustin as well.

On the bright side, with Alys a runaway and the Karstarks revealing themselves to be traitors, it seems the doors of opportunity are open to the north once more. If only it was easy to sit his stubborn father and the fearful Lord Wyman on the same table, but it could happen if they won the battle, reclaimed Winterfell and had the heads of Lord Bolton and his bastard on spikes. The prince was thankful of hearing the plot between the Karstarks, Boltons and that maester unfolding before his ears, as it means a new bride can be found for him from the right noble house.

It was not easy, being the most eligible unattached man in Westeros, with every opportunity for marriage being crushed. The earlier plans for a Reacher marriage folded, after the dispute between Paxter Redwyne and Randyll Tarly ended, the after Blackwater betrothal idea was scuppered as they lost that battle and an eligible bride and the third ran away from treacherous relatives. Jacob almost hoped Ser Davos would return with a marriage proposal that would change everything for them, but he was still missing, and he did not know when he would come back to him.

The prince got out from the hiding place and thought for a second what he wanted to do. His eye was on the Karstark tent and the man inside of it. He could leave and go tell his father, Sorrell and Luthor everything he heard from Harald and Maester Tybald about their plot against them. He started to pace towards the tent and pulled the covers of it to see the man fidgeting with his fingers, with many swords and shields grafted with the white sun sigil of their house, even though it's not their rightful sigil, around the tent, as it could be for him and his brother, when they fight on the battlefield. The prince kept his calm, and held his black gloved hands together, as the man turns around to see the prince, unexpectedly as he should come to expect, kings and princes come when they want to without any warnings, especially when they want to talk.

"Prince Jacob, what can I do for you, my almost good cousin." Harald said, in a tone of voice he would not normally use towards anyone.

"To talk about a serious matter, which you can help me with. Your father being the man he is, might withhold things from me." Prince Jacob replied, in a similar tone of voice.

"Of course, anything to help the man, who will elevate the status of our family further."

"I want to know about my bride, Alys. Your cousin and if your father will make good on his word on bringing her to Winterfell after the battle is over."

"My lord father will do anything; the king requires of him. After all, your father would have pledged your hand to another lord and married some other tart in the north."

"Why is your brother so tight-lipped, whenever I mention her and why did you father hit him with his cane, when he was about to say something."

"Arthor and that big mouth of his, it's what won him his current wife. Father always hated his mouth, as it would get him in trouble. He hit him because it was bad conduct, in front of your father and yourself."

"Unless, your brother wanted to say something, but your father was afraid it was going to get out."

"Out about what?"

"The fact my bride ran away from Karhold, explain that to me, Lord Harald because I cannot understand, why a highborn girl would run away from her own home, unless she wanted to escape, let's say a false marriage and being lied to about who she was going to marry." The prince said, raising his voice against the Karstark lord.

"What do you mean by that? Who told you? I bet it was Mors Umber spreading rumours, so you could marry one of the Greatjon's daughters instead." Harald bellowed.

"I'm asking you, my lord. As I assume you have the answers, unless you know more than you are telling me. Your brother is a fool and your father a half-wit, and it's why I came to you instead." Jacob said, with his voice tightly controlled, as he sounded like his father.

The look on Harald's face with his gritting teeth, suggested he did not like being put in his place often. "I only know what my father tells me."

"Or what you tell others or who your father orders around, like a certain maester."

"Maester Tybald is of our house and he must obey my father's orders, as the castellan of Karhold and regent head of House Karstark."

"No….that maester came from the Dreadfort, because I met the maester for Karhold before and he was a different man and more pleasant than this one."

"You are on thin ice, Andal filth. You dare to accuse me of lying about some maester. Why make it such a big issue?"

"It's more than the maester's loyalties, but more about the loyalties of you, your brothers and your father. I know what I heard, my lord. You Karstarks are nothing but snakes the day I saw your retinue come into the village. My father, as stubborn as he is, does not believe your father to be true to his word. You bastards intended to steal my future wife and give her away to your older brother to claim lordship of Karhold for yourselves and plan to stab my father and I in the backs."

"I did what I had to do for the north. You and your father brought nothing, but chaos and war upon us. The boy Robb Stark lost the north, the day he married that western whore in the south and broke his promise to the Freys. He got what he deserves, as well as his bitch mother, his dead brothers and the Tullys destroyed. You would want them dead too, after all, they refused your father's claim to the throne and bluffed his fealty as if it was a jape."

"Your family will be dead, all within hours of each other. When my father knows, you will never see your brother, your nephews or your father again."

"Is that a threat, Prince Jacob? My family have always been beneath those, who see themselves as better than us. You and your demon worshipping father are no different. He will destroy the sacred weirwoods and replace them with flames with men burning alive. I hear the rumours from other southorns about your father, the great Stannis Baratheon, who had his wife's uncle burned alive and destroyed the idols of the Seven on Dragonstone. Tell me, my prince. Why would you fight for a man, who does even respect your faith at all?

Prince Jacob hated to admit Harald, the despicable Karstark was right in some cases. All his reasons were of superstitions and rumours he heard from others. Arthor had a big mouth, Cregan was a wife killer and Harald was the one, out of his brothers, who made the most sense in his convictions. He hid behind his drunken personality to make people see the surface and not look inwards. The man looked at Harald in the eye, and realised he was a bad liar, but was good at twisting the truth to suit his own purpose. Everything he said about the Starks was true, even though most hated to admit it because they were loved in the north and all the northern houses had respect for them, except for the power-hungry likes of Roose Bolton and Barbery Dustin. He needed Harald to tell him everything in front of him, by him being rattled gave him control.

"You are right about one thing, Lord Harald. You are loyal to your family without question, as I am to mine. No matter what people say about my father, I am still on his side and you are on the side of your father, even though he berates you and your brother in our company."

"I'm glad to see you are not as blindly ignorant as you are, Prince Jacob."

"Your treachery goes many bounds, my lord. You pretend to be a drunkard, but you are truly the brains behind this plot with your father and that maester."

"Arthor would have ruined things, but father saved his skin again. Father warned us about you, how intelligent you are and how you are able to sniff out treachery in an instant. I must applaud you, Andal filth. You uncovered a plot, even your grim-faced father never found out about."

As Harald began to laugh, the prince punched the pretender lord across the face, seeing two teeth fall out of Harald's mouth. His knuckles must be bruised from smacking him in the face. Harald was knocked onto the ground with teeth missing from his mouth and he still grinned. He must have enjoyed being knocked down by someone stronger than him. The prince had no time to entertain the pretender's sick desire to be beaten up by Jacob's own hands, as he started to walk away. Harald pulled out a dagger from behind his trousers, it was not a glamourous one, but it was still a deadly weapon in the wrong hands. He glared at Prince Jacob, realising only one of them was going to leave this tent alive.

"You think you are tough, us northmen are stronger than you, git." Harald gritted between his teeth, with a tooth missing from the right side of his mouth and another at the bottom left. He charged with his dagger pointed at the prince, but Jacob brought out his own very jewelled one to counter the attack on him. He had been in confrontations before, and even killed a bandit, but fighting a lower-class lord was going to be a challenge because Harald was a lot smarter than he pretends to be.

Prince Jacob reflected Harald's wild and uncoordinated strikes with his own dagger, but the man was able to avoid the sharp end of the dagger. He moved away from where the pretender lord could see him, by appearing on his right side, and used his right arm to knock off Harald on his feet and him landing onto the ground. It was a shame, for Harald fall this way, but a Baratheon is as strong as the antlers of his sigil. It seems Lord Karstark learnt that lesson the hard way, and tasted Baratheon fury for a moment. The lord was planted onto the ground, holding onto his right leg, which must have been twisted during their bout and the prince looked on with a sense of apathy for someone, as treacherous as he was.

The man turned his back on the pretender lord and looked past the covers of the tent to see Asha coming towards it, but out of the blue, something struck him in the left side of his stomach. He was negligent, in turning his back and started to notice something trickling down his leg. Jacob placed his hand on the spot to realise it was his own blood, and he had been stabbed on the side. What he feared would happen to his father has now become a reality for Jacob.

The prince's vision was becoming cloudy and he could not see what was happening. He heard the shriek of a woman in his ear, and a low laugh coming from the man, who stabbed him. Jacob closed his eyes, knowing this could be his eventual end, but he did not want to die in the middle of a tent. He held onto where his wound was, and then collapsed on the ground from the dizziness circling his mind. He did not know this is where his life might end, but if it was then it would have been a poor end for such a man like him.