Robb Stark VI

Robb never thought that he would look forward to returning to King's Landing, but he couldn't help the smile from spreading across his face as he got closer and closer to the city. Behind him, the combined force of the three companies sent out to search for him rode in perfect formation, each man holding his head high as he helped escort the king back home.

As always, Robb was flanked by his Kingsguard, with Brienne and Ser Robar still wearing armor gifted to them by the green men. Behind the elite knights, Lord Tarly rode with Jaime, Tommen, and the Green Man, who kept his hood up as they rode. Robb had not had many moments to speak to the man as they traveled, his time mainly spent with Lord Tarly as he was caught up with news from his Small Council, but Robb still intended to find out as much as he could from the man.

Goldcloaks lined the road into the city, forming a barrier between the cheering smallfolk and the Young Wolf. It looked as if the entire city had emptied itself so that they could see Robb, and from the cheers, it certainly sounded like it as well. Children sat on their father's shoulders, waving to the king as he passed, and he returned them with a warm smile. Standing at the gate, still dressed like the sailor he was, Ser Davos waited for his liege, a relieved smile on his face.

"Ser Davos," Robb said happily, leaning down and clasping arms with the former smuggler.

"Your grace," Ser Davos said with equal enthusiasm. "Welcome back."

"It's good to be back." Robb agreed before continuing on his way.

Robb rode through Gate of the Gods, something he normally didn't do. The young king preferred to make quiet exits from the city using the River or Iron Gates, but he intended to go right through the heart of the city to send a direct message to any of the High Sparrow's remaining followers.

He wasn't gone and he meant to stay for a very long time.

The cheering was nonstop as Robb and his men were showered in flowers and well wishes. Everyone from children to adults had arrived in force to welcome Robb back, the man who had given them hope and life again. The man who fed them and kept them safe. The best king they've had in over forty years. They showed up so that they could show the king all the love they had for him, and Robb was more than happy to accept it all.

Word of the Faith Militant's extreme rise and equally extreme fall had spread across most of the southern Riverlands and the Crownlands by the time Robb had reached the city. Before the Young Wolf was even a day's ride from the city, the Sept of Baelor and the acting High Septon, a middle-aged man by the name of Tryon, had handed over the last of the Sparrows remaining in the city and had posted septons throughout the city, pleading with the gods for the king to forgive the misguided souls of the Faith Militant. The people of the city weren't happy with the Faith, and it would take quite a while before they placed their trust, and more importantly their gold, in the hands of septons.

As the High Sparrow's feared, more and more people sought out the religion of the Old Gods, giving thanks and sending prayers to them instead of the Seven. There were no weirwoods within the vicinity of the city, Baelor the Blessed saw to that, but it didn't stop the people from converting nonetheless. Just like their king, they saw the Old Gods as simple and honest gods who wanted nothing from their followers, and certainly not their gold.

As the Red Keep slowly came into view, Robb's smile doubled the moment he caught sight of his wife, guarded by her brother Loras and surrounded by the members of the Small Council. Robb took in the sight of her like a parched man in the desert drinking water. He wanted nothing more than to leave everyone behind and gallop up to her and take her in his arms, but appearances had to be kept up and so Robb was forced to maintain a slow, easy canter up to the person he loved above all others.

Finally, Robb made it through the gate and into the courtyard, stopping just a few feet from his wife. Without another word, he dismounted and strode over to Margaery, taking her up in his arms and kissing her with everything he had. A kiss Margaery returned with equal passion.

The people cheered wildly at the sight. Margaery was just as beloved as Robb. She was beginning to earn monikers such as 'Mother of Orphans' and 'Feeder of Souls' for her charitable work throughout the city. Alysanne Targaryen was still very much beloved, but there was not a royal couple more liked than Robb Stark and his Rose Queen.

Robb broke the kiss, breathing heavily as he put his hands around Margaery, pulling her close. In response, Margaery draped her arms around his neck, allowing Robb to lean his head against hers.

"I'm home," Robb whispered happily. Margaery could only smile, unable to find words to express the joy and relief she felt to have Robb back.

Unfortunately, Brienne gently nudged Robb, telling him that his moment with Margaery was becoming uncomfortably long and that it was time for him to move on to others.

Robb grinned at his wife before giving her another kiss before moving on to his small council. Lord Mallister, Lady Anya, Lord Royce, and Tyrion were all beaming happily, expressing their joy at seeing the king. Lady Olenna and Alec Reed stood just behind the four nobles, nodding respectfully to Robb. A gesture he readily returned.

After what seemed like an eternity of welcomes, Robb was finally able to find his way back to his room as his steward and Lord Royce took care of housing the soldiers who had helped clean up the remains of the fanatical group.

Margaery was on him almost immediately after he entered the room, pulling him towards the bed…

Line Break

Robb and Margaery lay breathless on the bed, the smell of sex and their clothes strewn across the ground evidence of their action. The queen cuddled closer to the king, wrapping her arms around his muscled chest and laying her head on one of his broad shoulders.

"I missed you," Margaery said with a tired smile.

Robb smiled down at the beautiful woman that he called his wife. "So it seems," he joked before holding her a little closer and speaking softly. "I missed you too."

The two of them lay there for a long time, simply enjoying the presence of one another. From time to time, Greywind would raise his head and brush against Robb's hand, reminding him that he was there as well. Each time he did this, Robb would smile and run his hand over the wolf's massive head. Robb was thankful that Greywind had tackled him as soon as he entered the room. The giant wolf would have injured him with his excitement.

After what seemed like an hour, Margaery's curiosity got the better of her.

"What happened after the battle at the Isle of Faces?"

Robb sighed, running his free hand through his messy auburn curls, still slick with sweat.

"Brienne, Ser Robar, the Green Man, and I rode north towards Lord Harroway's Town. I wasn't sure who I could trust, and so I chose to avoid Harrenhal."

"Understandable." Margaery agreed.

"I was hoping to find part of the company in the town, but none were there," Robb continued. "I was forced to head west towards High Heart."

"Where you ran into the High Sparrow," Margaery said.

"Aye," Robb said. "He was accompanied by at least a dozen of his knights. I didn't think we would make it out alive."

Margaery looked up in surprise. Robb had extreme confidence in the fighting prowess of his Kingsguard and, although he was modest about his skills, he was a very good fighter in his own right. If he didn't think that he would make it out of the fight, then Margaery knew that the odds must have been truly stacked against them.

"What happened?"

Robb shook his head slightly. "Wolves, Margaery. Dozens of them. They completely overran the septon's knights and left us alone." he looked down at his wife. "Then a direwolf showed up."

Greywind poked his head up at the mention of one of his species, looking just as confused as Margaery.

"A direwolf?" Margaery said curiously. "How could a direwolf have gotten so far south of the Wall?"

"This one didn't come from the Wall," Robb said. "I think it was Nymeria, Arya's direwolf."

"What was it doing in the Riverlands? Arya's in Winterfell." Margaery said.

"Aye, I know, but Arya was forced to make Nymeria leave so that she wouldn't be butchered by Cersei," Robb explained, remembering bits and pieces of the story. "It seems she found a pack and made it hers."

"Robb, this all seems like too much to be a coincidence," Margaery said.

Robb nodded. "I don't think it was," he said. "I don't know why, but I think the Old Gods are at work, it's the only way I can explain it. With everything that's happening in the North, they're the only reasoning I can use to explain anything."

Margaery could only nod. Robb knew that she supported him unconditionally, and she had been fantastic during this whole matter with the Long Night. At the same time, Margaery was an extremely intelligent person and didn't like not having a reasonable, logical explanation for things.

"What happened to the septon?" she asked finally.

"Nymeria took care of him," Robb said.

"That's ironic," Margaery joked. "He chased after one direwolf and was killed by an actual direwolf."

Robb smiled grimly. "It was a well-deserved death. The man was a fanatic who wielded far too much power. A power that he would have used to burn everything to the ground. The world's better off with him gone."

"And Westeros is better off with you on the throne," Margaery added.

Eddard Stark

"Lord Stark, you have a visitor," Eddard said from outside Ned's tent.

Ned looked up from his reading. He had grabbed a few books regarding stories north of the Wall and of the structure itself before he had left Winterfell. He had never been to the Wall before, not even to visit Benjen, and he wanted to know all he could about where the battle between life and death would be fought.

"Come in," he said, closing the book.

Ned hadn't been sure who to expect. It was late and his men were camped on the King's Road just north of Long Lake. It had been days since they had left Winterfell and ridden towards Castle Black.

"Ned," Benjen said warmly, entering the tent.

Ned was immediately on his feet, walking around the table to embrace his brother. Benjen looked a little older and more worn than the last time Ned had seen him, but there was still that easy smile and bright look in his brother's eye.

"What are you doing here?" Ned asked, ushering his brother into a chair and grabbing them both tankards of ale. "Why are you not at the Wall?"

Benjen's smile faded quickly. "I found it," he said grimly. "I found proof of the Long Night."

Ned's mood changed in an instant. Like Benjen's, it became dark and serious. This was no longer a friendly visit, but an intention run-in.

"What kind of proof?" Ned asked.

"After I helped Bran and his friends back to Castle Black, I went back north of the Wall with a….friend named Coldhands," Benjen explained. "Coldhands was special. He was a former brother of the Watch who had been saved by the Children of the Forest before he was turned into a wight by an Other."

Ned nodded slowly, trying to keep track of what his brother was saying. "Go on…."

"Coldhands could track wights, sense them really, and we found a group on the edge of the Haunted Forest, about a league north of the Wall." Benjen continued. "I'm not sure how much you've been told about the bloody things, but they don't die like the living. They have to be hacked apart or burned. Cutting off an arm won't stop it. Even if you hack it in half, it will still try to kill you."

"Can fire kill them?" Ned asked.

"I believe so," Benjen said. "Fire and dragonglass."

"From the way you're talking about these wights, you must have managed to capture one," Ned said, knowing his brother.

"I did, and it wasn't easy," Benjen said. "I have the top half of a wight locked in a chest and chained to the inside."

Ned raised an eyebrow. "For what purpose?"

Benjen nodded. "I had Maester Aemon send ravens across the North. I will show the wight to the lords assembled at Winterfell."

"Smart," Ned grunted. "This Coldhands…is he an ally?"

"He was," Benjen said sadly. "After we managed to capture the wight, an Other showed up. Swatted Coldhands like he was a fly."

"An Other!" Ned exclaimed, leaning forward.

"Wights can sneak up on you, Ned, but you fucking know when an Other shows up," Benjen said, a faraway look in his eye. "They are inhumanly fast and strong. The only thing that can kill it is fire or dragonglass. Steel won't do shit according to Maester Aemon."

"You killed it!"

"I wouldn't be here if I hadn't," Benjen said, his humor appearing for the first time in the conversation. "Even then, I got lucky."

Ned leaned back in his chair, thinking about what his brother had said. "How bad is it at the Wall?"

"Not terrible," Benjen admitted, "but Thorne will get a lot of people killed if he doesn't pull his head out of his ass."

"How?" Ned asked.

"He won't let the wildlings through the Wall, not until you're there," Benjen said. "I'm sure he'll blame you if anything goes wrong."

"He still blames me for placing him there, according to Jon," Ned grunted. "I'll do what I can to deal with the wildings. I'm sure Robb wouldn't mind if I settle them on the Gift and New Gift."

"They can also be used to help repair castles along the Wall," Benjen added. "We only have three functioning castles at the moment and given the size of the wildling host, we could man each one tenfold."

"I'll keep that in mind," Ned said. "How's Jon?"

"Last I heard from Smalljon Umber, he was heading towards Hardhome to get another group of wildlings south, a favor asked of him by Mance Rayder," Benjen answered. "But that was weeks ago. I'm sure Jon's either on his way back to the Wall or has already arrived at Eastwatch."

"That is good to hear," Ned said. "I assume your full plan isn't stopping at Winterfell."

Benjen shook his head. "I plan to travel to each region, showing an assembled audience proof of the Long Night. Riverrun, Casterly Rock, the Eyrie, King's Landing, Highgarden, Storm's End, and Sunspear. Everyone needs to see what we're against."

Benjen stood up, stretching as he did.

"You'll see it in the morning."

"Why don't I see it now?" Ned asked.

Benjen looked his brother in the eye. "Trust me, Ned, you want to see this thing when there's a sun in the sky. It might keep it out of your nightmares."

Line Break

Ned, along with the rest of his party, stood in a half-circle around Benjen, who kept on foot firmly planted on a chest wrapped heavily in black iron chains. Occasionally, the box would shudder and there would be a weird scratching noise coming from it. The men around Ned were on edge, curious as to what the watchmen had to show them. Some had their hands on their swords, but none drew their steel.

"Give me space, all of ya," Benjen ordered, pulling a key from his belt and inserting it into the padlock that held the chains.

Ned and his men took three large steps backward until there were ten paces between them and the box. The lord of Winterfell gave his brother a nod, letting him know that it was time to open the box. Benjen returned the nod before turning the key, unraveling the chains, and pushing the chest back so that the lid fell open.

"Bloody hell!" Eddard Karstark shouted, drawing his sword, an action copied by many of the others. Those who didn't were frozen in shock and horror.

"Hold!" Ned bellowed, although his hand had flown to Ice.

The creature snapped and snarled at the northerners, its blue eyes glowing with hate. It was like nothing else Ned had ever seen before. Its bones were black from rot, and most of its hair had fallen out except for a few white wisps. It wore nothing but a heavy collar made from the same black iron as the chains. The collar was connected to a chain leash that kept it tied to the box, holding it in place. Its undead hands kept scratching at the snow, trying to pull itself towards the nearest man.

True to his word, Benjen had only managed to capture the top half of the creature, and it made its appearance all the more terrifying.

"All of you, look and see." Benjen barked. "The Long Night comes again, and waves of this filth come with it."

"How the fuck do we kill it?" Karstark asked, pale but holding firm next to Ned.

"There are a few ways," Benjen said. "Cutting off an arm or a leg won't stop it, only total dismemberment will turn those blue lights off." he drew a dagger made from glossy black stone from his belt. "This is dragonglass. It will kill them a lot faster. They're also weak to fire."

"Why do you have the damn thing?" one man asked.

"So I can show others what marches on the Wall," Benjen answered. "All of Westeros will be at the Wall to stop these things and the Others that control them."

"This will be a war unlike any that has been fought in a millennium," Ned said, looking around at his men. "This is not a war for power or gold or land. This is a war for survival!"

His men still looked pale and shaky, but he could see that they understood what he and Benjen were saying. They were afraid, but they were ready to fight, and that's all Ned needed to see.

"We are men of the North," Ned growled, drawing Ice and planting it in the snow before him. The wight shied away from the massive blade, snarling at it.

"Our ancestors defeated these bastards centuries ago. Now it's our turn to finish what they started."

Arya Stark

Arya found her brother sitting in front of the Heart Tree, Summer sitting by his side. Hodor sat patiently against a tree a little ways behind him, simply waiting to be useful. It had taken the giant a while to get used to the changes in Winterfell, and many times, Arya had heard him moaning to himself sadly, repeating his name over and over. The young girl could only guess that he was missing Old Nan, the only bit of family he had left.

"Bran," Arya said, crossing her arms. Her brother shook his head as if clearing it and responded.

"You've come to ask for help."

Arya couldn't stop the surprise from showing on her face. She walked over and stood next to him.

"I have."

Bran had gotten taller and stronger-looking since the last time they had been together as children. His hair was longer, and his features were more masculine, but those were only the physical changes. He wasn't the excitable boy he used to be. He always looked serious and had a gaze that annoyed Arya because she felt like he could read what she was thinking. It unnerved her at times.

"I've been having dreams about Nymeria," Arya continued. "I can see what she sees, hear what she hears, and sometimes feel what she feels. I thought they were just dreams but…."

"They're not dreams, Arya," Bran said, looking up at her for the first time. "When the Starks ruled the North as kings, almost every Stark had a direwolf as a companion. As Torrhen has told Robb when they spoke, direwolves were a symbol of the Stark's rule, a gift given to them by the Old Gods. House Stark lost their direwolves when Torrhen knelt to Aegon."

Arya shook her head in frustration. "What does this have to do with my dreams!"

"Starks and direwolves were closer than master and companion," Bran went on, ignoring Arya's irritation. "Starks could slip into the minds of their direwolves, experience what they experience."

"Like what I can do with Nymeria," Arya said.

"Indeed," Bran said. "Watch."

Arya took a step back as Bran's eyes suddenly turned milk-white and his body went limp. As this happened, Summer's eyes clouded over as he got to his feet and walked a circle around Bran before sitting back down. Bran's eyes then returned to normal.

"I have learned how to control Summer and others, and I will help you learn how to control Nymeria," Bran promised, "but there are many things that you must know before I teach you how to enter Nymeria's mind."

Adrenaline raced through Arya. She wanted to try to be Nymeria right away, but Bran had a look that stopped her. It was the same look her father used to give her. Bran was in control and if Arya tried to race ahead or step out of line, then he would stop helping. Instead, Arya took a deep breath and took a seat on a nearby rock, nodding to her brother.

"I want to learn," she said calmly. "Please."

Bran folded his hands over his lap. "Let's begin."