9

Daenerys Targaryen, Outside of Yunkai

Daenerys still had residual bitterness about her two unforeseen companions departing so suddenly, based on a rumor. While she knew that forcing them to stay would be too much, especially considering how they resupplied her crumbling khalasar with ships and a conquered city, the very thought of people she considered her friends to go to the Red Keep, held by the people that killed her family, as mere visitors, was a slight she wouldn't forget. In their absence, Ser Jorah and the newly accepted ser Barristan held a conflicting view, and tended to go back and forth in arguments, but it only served to remind her of the banter the twins shared. Missandei was a friendly girl, similar to the handmaidens. She was there to hear her vent her frustrations, offering a comforting hug. She was also there to share the excitement in hearing good news. The Unsullied, on the other hand, were a different story, marching in unison, not missing a beat. It would take time to get them out of the shackles imposed on their minds. The only one out of them who has any kind of interaction with her is their leader - Grey Worm.

They marched onward to Yunkai, as she thought about her companions, past and present. Her scouts reported that there is a sizable amount of sellwords, as well as some men in luxurious clothes.

"They've sent envoys, as well as an implied threat." Daenerys commented. "What do you think?" she asked her two old knights. "Can we conquer this city?"

"Absolutely." ser Jorah answered.

"Yes, but not easily." ser Barristan countered. "Astapor was taken by surprise. Yunkai is forewarned."

Daenerys considered the situation. If they wish to send envoys, the least she could do is humor them.

"Set up camp here. Tell their envoys that they can come meet me here, as well as my dragons." Daenerys commanded, raising her chin.

The camp was made beyond a hill, near Yunkai, thereby obscuring her from the open sights of the entire city. She will let their imaginations run wild. As for her, she lounged under a tent with her dragons and her trusted advisors, waiting for the envoys to arrive and present their case.

Soon enough, several envoys approached in palanquins, flanked by several more mercenaries on horse, and carrying a cart behind them. How quaint, they thought to bribe her out of the battle. Her dragons greeted them with a shrill, ululating screech

"You speak to Daenerys Targaryen. Queen of the Andals and the First Men. Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea." Missandei introduced her to the Wise Masters that approached, as they were helped from their palanquins by soldiers. "Breaker of Chains and Mother of Dragons."

"Yunkai is a proud and glorious city. Old was our empire, even back when the Valyrian Freehold stirred in it's cradle." one master began in High Valyrian, having an almost effeminate voice. He wore makeup on his face, highlighting his eyes just like a maiden did. "Our pride shouldn't be mistaken for stubbornness, however. We have been made aware of your ambitions and your power. We submit to you, silver queen."

What did he just say? Is this a trick? What made them change their minds? Is she dreaming? All these questions began to circle in the khaleesi's head as she processed what the master just spoke. She tried to recompose herself before addressing the masters.

"We have brought you two sellsword companies, sworn to a three year arrangement and paid for by us." another master, of a stockier build, said. His voice as rough as the grinding of rubble. The sellswords beside them kneeled like squires waiting to be knighted. "We hope they aid you in your further conquests."

The effeminate master was motioning to the soldiers as the portly man spoke, who brought the contents of their carts at Daenerys' feet. Inside the mysterious boxes were solid gold bars, whose yellow gleam stood out to everyone inside the tent, attracting even her dragons' curious gazes.

"We are happy to provide you as a gift for enlightening our city with your presence, and as a token of our good will." the effeminate master said. "There's more waiting for you on your ship."

As confounded as she was by this display of generosity, Daenerys remained unmoved. She was the Breaker of Chains. No armies or gold or ships could convince her to leave the people of Yunkai to their cruel masters.

"Last, but certainly not least, we have freed all our slaves." Daenerys couldn't believe what the third master just said. More precisely, the third mistress. "We will arrange a tour of the city for the silver queen. We are certain the men and women who gained their freedom will be pleased to see you."

"We submit to your rule and hope that, in your boundless mercy, you spare the good people of Yunkai from the wrath inflicted upon Astapor and Meereen." the first one said again, as all three kneeled.

She looked around, to see if this was true, and saw the soldiers that escorted the masters wear no collars.

"I shall tour your city to confirm your claims." Daenerys said as she wondered what could have possibly happened in Meereen. She sent no troops there, nor any scouts. Unless…

"Excellent. We are honored to host you, o great silver queen." the stocky man said. "We hope to get to know your divine warriors as well. Perhaps show their skill to us? The blue one must surely be very powerful, if he could take Meereen by himself."

"Vergil... He took over Meereen by himself?!" ser Barristan said, once Missandei translated, echoing Daenerys' thoughts.

"It seems they left us a parting gift." ser Jorah said. "Do you think they'll return at our side, or our enemy's?"

"Time will tell." ser Barristan answered, not saying anything concrete. "How he single-handedly sacked an entire city like Meereen, though…"

Daenerys drew in a shaky breath as she reminded herself of the two capricious men. It seems they did one more favor to help her, a very big favor, making her thoughts about their departure that much more confusing. Beyond those doubts, she thought about Vergil's true potential. Taking control of Astapor with the help of his brother, her dragons and the Good Master's Unsullied was one thing. Razing Meereen, a city larger than both Astapor and Yunkai put together, with no help whatsoever…

"Only gods could render harsh judgment upon cities like Vergil did." Daenerys told her allies in Common, in a voice devoid of emotion. "If any of the Seven stood in the swordsman's path – they, too, would be cut down."

"These men fly around the world, leaving a bloody ashen trail in their wake. They are more beast than man." ser Barristan said.

"It is thanks to those beasts that we have what we have. An army, two cities,..." ser Jorah responded in defense of the twins.

"The sellswords are a benefit as well." commented ser Barristan.

"The sellswords are fickle. You can't buy loyalty." ser Jorah said. "The Second Sons are notorious for being a danger to their employers, as well as their enemies. Perhaps these wise masters are hoping they turn on us as well."

She listened to her two sworn knights talk, before turning to the Wise Masters who watched the ongoing conversation anxiously..

"They are currently tasked with orders elsewhere. Once they return to my side, I might arrange a demonstration." She smiled as she told the wise masters, hoping that they aren't wise enough to see through her lie.

"I shall also set up my court here, for the time being. To help the wise masters adapt to a life without slaves, of course." Daenerys said, taking aback the masters.

"But of c-course, great silver queen." the effeminate one stammered out. "We would be honored to have you aid us."

Daenerys remained unconvinced. Thankfully, she will be there to oversee if their words have any merit.

"I wish to see my city. I'm sure you will be able to arrange living quarters for my soldiers, my khalasar and myself."

The masters shared a few faint words before nodding in unison.

"Come with us, we have already arranged a welcoming parade, as we said." The portly man responded.

She commanded the Unsullied to begin their march inside the city, whose buildings were in a similar state as Astapor's, except the notable ocher-colored stone that replaced the washed-out red of Astapor's bricks. The crowd was peeking through the windows, which made Daenerys slightly uneasy, as she was expecting an ambush once they were trapped inside the city walls. To her surprise, though, many men and women started shouting towards her.

"Mhysa!" one child yelled, followed by a few men and women. Not unlike the Unsullied spears in Astapor, the cheerful cries of the populace swelled, flooding the soundscape with the shouts of former slaves chanting a single thing in their language - Mother.

She noticed the slave collars thrown at her feet by the former slaves, to be trampled by the Unsullied army treading through the wide plaza that extended from the main gate to the largest pyramid in the city. She waved to the crowd, looking at the wide-eyed populace, as she made her way forward, enjoying the praise. She doesn't want to feel vainglorious, but seeing a sight like this reinforces her conviction that she is on the right path.

As they neared the citadel, one of the escorting masters told her: "This is the alcazar of Yunkai. In here we hold our meetings and enjoy the luxuries within."

Daenerys nodded with a small smile before informing him. "Summon the wise masters into the citadel, I wish to speak to them." Daenerys said, motioning her honor guard to follow, as well as a select group of her Unsullied.

They progressed inside the alcazar, which seemed more like a pleasure palace than anything else. She saw hot springs in a pool lapiz-lined pool, a garden with various orchids and other exotic flowers being tended to, an exit to an orchard with various fruit-bearing trees, a smoke-packed room with multiple men that sat comfortably around a table on which incense sticks were burning. Thankfully, there was a relatively sizable forum within it, as well. Daenerys seated herself on the fine table on the podium, which had an assortment of fruits and other light summer snacks on it. With her were ser Jorah and ser Barristan to guard her, in case the wise masters decided to attempt something unwise. She enjoyed the refreshments as she waited for the masters to gather. Once they gathered, she stood up and began her speech.

"Wise masters of Yunkai. I thank you for your welcome. I also congratulate you for seeing the right path and giving freedom to your slaves, as well as giving me a gift. This must be hard for you, I know. To break a system that was firmly in place for generations. A system which made you and your families prosper. That prosperity cost others in the city, your fellow citizens, their freedom, their families, their lives. I am here to show you that you can live and prosper without treading on the less privileged."

They carefully listened to her words, with only a few faint whispers exchanged between the former masters. Daenerys proceeded with her demands.

"Who among you were the rulers of this city. Which ones here consider themselves the wisest of the wise masters?"

"That would be us, silver queen." said one of the three masters who greeted her - the effeminate man. "I am Emahr mo Aydaz, renowned diplomat and speaker, at your service." Daenerys wasn't aware that she was greeted by the leaders of the city, until now.

"I am Drazhar zo Fiqhar." the gruff, portly man said. "I am in charge of the military."

"My name is Nassera Zakahr. My domain is the economy and prosperity of Yunkai." the woman curtly said.

"You three will serve as my advisors. The rest of you are free to carry on with your day." The seated crowd dispersed as quickly as they gathered. Once the space was clear, she made her demands to the three before her.

"Send a message to Qarth and Qarkash. Tell them that I remember their hospitality not so long ago. They can follow your path or they can follow Meereen's and Astapor's path. I expect their answers soon." Daenerys commanded. The new advisors nodded.

"Any news of Meereen after the battle?" she asked.

"The city itself has been abandoned and likely looted by the freed slaves by now. They seek refuge mainly in the free cities, but we have found some refugees here." the woman said.

"Good. Yunkai will show them hospitality and a chance to start anew. Make an offer to the former slave soldiers and Unsullied. They can join my army, if they wish." Daenerys stated another demand. Drazhar raised his head in indignation at that.

"Will they be compensated as well?" Drazhar asked.

"They will." Daenerys said. "This concludes our business for now. We will reconvene soon, should a need for it arise."

As they exited, a man in armor came in.

"May I come in?" the man asked.

"You may. You are…?" Daenerys asked.

"I am Daario Naharis. I came to see you once more, after witnessing your beauty outside of Yunkai."

"I remember you, you're one of the sellsword captains. Tell me, does the contract come with mandatory flattery?" Daenerys asked.

"It is no flattery. My compliments are for the truly worthy, silver queen." Daario smiled.

"I'm touched." Daenerys faked a smile. "Leave the speechcraft to my advisors and diplomats. It is your sword hand I need. Your tongue, I can do without."

"How am I to order my men, then?" Daario asked, still smiling.

"How will you, indeed… I might be forced to find a replacement, in that case." Daenerys smiled impishly in earnest now.

"I bid you farewell then, beautiful queen." he said as he exited, a smile still playing on his lips.

"That one speaks too freely, khaleesi." ser Jorah said.

"If the Yunkish think that the flattery of a rogue sellsword would seduce me, they will be as disappointed as I am insulted." Daenerys said. "We will have bigger annoyances soon."

"Aye." ser Jorah said. "Do you believe Qarth will submit to your demands?"

"Qarth? We will be invading Qarth?" ser Barristan asked in surprise.

"Hopefully not, ser Barristan. With any luck, they'll accept my offer." Daenerys said. "Does that trouble you, ser Barristan?"

"Not at all, your Grace." ser Barristan answered with slight indignation. "In fact, having a merchant city like Qarth under our control could be one of our greatest assets."

"Very well then. We shall wait for their response." Daenerys stated. "In the meantime, this city undoubtedly has masters that seek to restore the old order. We need to uncover the seeds of rebellion before they take root."

"Understood, your Grace." ser Barristan said.

"We will, khaleesi." ser Jorah said.

"Leave me. I shall rejoin you and the other advisors soon." Daenerys ordered them, to which they nodded and exited promptly with the fading sound of their clattering armor.

She sighed and sat back in her royal seat again. Yunkai was already being a pain for her. For now, she will take and hold this place and the region, if she could. After all, if she can't rule a city like Yunkai, how would she rule seven entire kingdoms?

Robb Stark, The Twins

As the twin towers pinning the ends of a giant bridge to the opposing riversides came into view, Robb knew the hour approached when Edmure became a married man. The fact that lord Walder was willing, not only to forgive the broken promise, but offer a chance for redemption, is unlike what he has heard of the man. He reconsidered hosting his own wedding there, at the behest of his mother, as she said it might insult the Freys. Besides, he doesn't want to steal his uncle Edmure's big day.

He was riding alongside Roose Bolton, his mother and Nero.

The day Nero first came to him with Sansa in tow, was the day Robb knew he owed an unpayable debt to Nero. A chest of gold, and a formal invitation to his wedding is a start, though, and judging by the way he received the former, he assumed right about the man. A confident swagger, a strange choice of apparel, and a sword that sticks out on his person; they all lead to the conclusion that the man is a sellsword.

Among his soldiers grow sordid rumors: that he possesses dark powers, that he might be a harbinger of doom, that only demons or grumkins could lift the Iron Throne and that having him nearby is as wise as sparrows keeping a falcon around. Robb dismisses the hearsay, believing that they might be jealous because Nero is always found near the Starks' side, since he joined their army, whether it's Sansa gossiping with him, Catelyn pestering him or Robb asking him to tell the Iron Throne story to his bannermen again. The snow-haired man is amiable and relaxed regardless of the situation, as well as very irreverent, with the occasional pensive look he throws at the horizon. Robb knows Nero is still on an assignment here, and if they are half as strong as Nero, the only thing to make him breathe a sigh of relief is that the two men are in Essos and not here. Speaking of…

"You haven't told us any details about these men you're looking for." Robb told Nero. "For all we know, they might have been here, but we haven't noticed them."

"You would have noticed them, alright." Nero replied. "Those two can be spotted from a satellite."

"A what?" Robb asked. Nero turned his sights to Robb, wanting to explain more, but he gave up before he even began.

"Never mind." dismissed Nero. "As for the details, the two are like ice and fire. Vergil is calm and collected. It's almost scary. He is also a prick, seeing everyone that isn't him below his consideration. I met another side of him, once, which was… weird, but much friendlier, I guess." Nero described one of the men.

"Was he drunk that time?" Roose asked.

"No, but you could say that he was a bit... out of himself." Nero stifled a laugh.

"And what about the other guy?" Robb asked.

"Dante. He is more laid back, y'know. He is just as skilled as Vergil, but he isn't as stuck-up." said Nero. "Sometimes, he can be overly laid back, especially when it comes to paying the bills, but he's a good guy. I wouldn't work with him otherwise."

"I see." Robb said.

"Oh, and Dante dresses in red, while Vergil dresses in blue." added Nero. "If it helps with recognizing two walking catastrophes."

Robb tried to imagine the two figures, white haired, one wild, but soft, while the other one hard but calm. He could only imagine how much they infuriate each other. It almost reminds him of how Jon and Theon were… Theon. Why did he have to go and betray a family that gave him all the comforts he wanted, despite his actual position as ward, is a question that still burns Robb like wildfire every time he remembers the squid. Once the festivities are over, he will retake whatever scrap of land the Ironborn managed to get their slimy feelers on… After that, he will throw a proper wedding for him and Talisa to celebrate.

"Nero, I have to ask you something." Robb's mother spoke up. This is the first time she spoke to Nero after finding out he is technically a bastard a few days ago. She immediately gained a mistrust of him, claiming that he would betray them at the first promise of a deeper pocket, a laughable argument considering he helped Sansa escape without any promise of gold whatsoever. Either way, she is slowly warming up to him again. "Have you encountered any shadow men during your adventures?" Catelyn asked. She grew slightly more devout upon seeing Nero demonstrate his powers – an event he regretted missing. His mother claims uncle Edmure fell off his chair and even uncle Brynden was slack-jawed.

"Shadow men… I've seen shadow cats." said Nero after pondering the inquiry.

"We've all seen shadowcats, they're common around here. Their pelt is quite warm." lord Bolton said.

"...Right. I meant actual demonic shadows that look like big cats. They can shapeshift into bladed weapons and make spikes extend from their body. I don't think your shadow cats can pull that off, no matter how fluffy their pelt is." Nero continued. "Anyways, no shadow men. Why do you ask?"

"When I met with the Late Renly Baratheon, he was to parley with his brother, Stannis Baratheon, about the war. They were to clash against each other." Catelyn said. "That night, after they met, a shadow appeared in lord Renly's tent and killed him just as you described it – with a blade that reached out from it's arm. Most notable of all, the shadow had the face of Stannis Baratheon himself."

Once mother was done with her scary story, he turned to Nero, eagerly expecting his reaction to Stannis becoming a shadowbinder.

"Hey, anything's possible. They can change form, after all. A friend of mine once struck a deal with a shadow, gaining its protection. Perhaps this Stannis also signed a contract with a shadow and made it look like that to piss off Renly?" elaborated Nero.

"Shadow demons are practically sellswords, then?" lord Bolton asked with a slightly mocking curiosity.

"Everyone has a family to feed." Nero responded. "Even demons, I guess."

"There is the red priestess from the east that has possibly bewitched Stannis." Catelyn continued. "When I first saw her, she had a commanding presence, moreso than Stannis. As if Stannis was her squire."

"Enough mother." Robb interrupted. "We have Old Nan to tell him scary stories, if he wishes. We are near the gates. Nero, I want you to come with me to the talk with lord Walder, as well. Just in case things go sour."

"Alright." Nero said in a blithe fashion. "You think he'll give us trouble?"

"I broke the promise I swore to him." Robb answered. "It's not out of the question."

"Oh, right, he is that guy. Let's go then." Nero responded. It's time they face the slighted lord, and hope his cantankerous heart still has a drop of mercy flowing through it.

They were greeted quite warmly by the household guard and the lord's numerous sons. Surprisingly so, all things considered. Edmure, the unfortunate groom, made his way to lord Walder's chambers along with Catelyn, Talisa, Nero, Sansa and Robb himself, the more fortunate groom-to-be. In it, he found Walder Frey, surrounded by his numerous sons and daughters who are worthy enough to be at his side, each eyeing the arrivals with a suspicion he expected to be given to an oathbreaker.

A man went around, handing the customary bread and salt given to guests. This meant Walder has no intentions of harming them, while they are under his roof, which is great news. Nero passed at first, saying he wasn't hungry. A nudge from Robb, accompanied by an intense gaze, told Nero to just eat the damn thing.

"My honored guests…" the old lord spoke up in a sonorous voice. "I welcome you under my roof and by my table. I extend, the hospitality of my home, to you, as well as my protection."

"We thank you for your kindness, my lord." Robb replied. Once all the easy formalities are done with, Robb has to move on to the hard ones. He breathed in, choosing his words carefully, before speaking up.

"I would like to beg your forgiveness, my Lord, and make my apologies…" Robb began, before Walder interjected.

"Don't beg my forgiveness, your Grace." old Walder Frey said, rather impassively. "It was the girls that you've spurned, not me."

Suddenly, a number of girls appeared before them, standing demurely in front of them.

"This one's Arwyen, my daughter. This one…" Walder started listing the names of the girls who lined up, having trouble remembering some of them.

"This one's… Wertha?" he stopped to reconsider. "Waldra...? Weldrina?"

"I'm Mary…" said 'Wertha'

"Fine." the old man said, accepting the dubious claim. Robb suppressed a chuckle, as any more of his hubris could be the final blow to the strained alliance between their houses.

Nero was smiling at the scene. If bread and salt were unusual to him, Robb wonders what he could possibly think of this display.

"These ones are twins – Serra and Sarra." he continued the introductions. "You could've had either. You could've even had both, for all I care."

"And this is my youngest daughter Shirei." lord Frey hopefully finished the introductions with the frail looking girl, who was not even two-and-ten. "She hasn't bled yet, but you clearly don't have the patience for that." Lord Walder stopped, letting Robb craft his next words carefully.

"My ladies…" he began to speak. "Men should keep their word, kings most of all. I was pledged to marry one of you, and I broke that vow, but the fault is not with you. Any man would be lucky to have any one of you. I did what I did, not to slight you, but because I love another, not to humiliate you. I know my words will not make amends, nor soothe the pain I've caused you and your house. I beg your forgiveness and a chance to redeem myself so that the Starks and the Freys can be friends once again."

Lord Walder slowly clapped his veiny, wrinkled hands, nodding at the young king. Nobody joined in.

"And, there she is…" lord Walder spoke of Talisa. "Let me have a closer look at you…"

Talisa, being singled out, did as she was commanded and stepped forth.

"Still can't see you." Walder said, leaning forward and squinting his eyes, making the abuntant lines on his face deepen and embellish his falcon-like nose. "Old eyes, you know?"

Talisa, once more, approached the old man. This time, she was within a few feet of him.

"Yes. Very nice." Walder commented. "Love… This is what the Starks call it?"

"I call it a pretty face, and a firm body." the man laughed with a wheeze. "You try to hide her under that dress, but I know what happens beneath it. I bet, when you take it off, everything stays exactly as is."

The old lord was pushing his boundaries. Forgiveness, Robb does seek, but not at the expense of hearing such words.

"When I was your age" lord Walder turned to Robb as he began to speak again. "I'd have broken fifty vows just to get into that."

Robb snapped and began to move towards the lecherous old lord, before his mother restricted his action with her movement. Lord Walder just held an impish smile at Robb.

"And who is this fire-kissed beauty?" lord Walder looked at Sansa. Sansa stepped forward just as Talisa did before introducing herself.

"I'm Sansa Stark, my lord." she dropped into a curtsy as she introduced herself.

"You're a pretty one, too. And well behaved as well. Much better behavior than this lot…" lord Walder said. "Hasn't the King in the North promised one of his sisters to marry my son Elmar?"

"Yes. Arya Stark shall marry your son." Robb's mother spoke up, emphasizing Arya's name. She knew what the old man wanted.

"Yes, well… Where is Arya Stark?" the old lord asked, likely knowing the answer.

"She is lost to us. Said to have ran away from the keep." Catelyn answered, her defiant tone waning.

"Shame… You Starks love to run away from betrothals, it seems." Walder said. "Tell me, young lady. Are you betrothed to someone?"

"N-no, my lord. I was betrothed to king Joffrey." Sansa answered meekly. Walder merely barked out a laugh.

"That's three eluded marriages so far." Walder said. "What do you say, your Grace? You got an opportunity to make your amends right now."

He looked to Sansa, who was surprised just as much as Robb was. In the corner of his eye, he also saw Nero making confused faces. He didn't want he roped into this, considering how much she suffered under the Lannisters since the war started, he wanted to give her some time to recover from the time spent in the south.

"My lord, she has suffered much as a hostage in the Red Keep." Robb explained. "She came back to us only a few days ago, thanks to the courage and strength of this man." Robb gestured to Nero.

"Hey, 'sup." Nero irreverently said.

"I see, so you're the man who allegedly tossed the Iron Throne topsy-turvy?" Walder asked Nero.

"I am, yes." Nero said with a chuckle.

"Well done!" the man wheezed out another laugh, before sputtering into a cough. "The Lannisters won't forget that one, I'm certain."

"As for you…" lord Walder turned to Robb's sister again.

"My lord, if it helps to alleviate the insult my brother, the King in the North, has inflicted upon you, and if it helps my brother keep his allies happy, then I would be honored to marry your son." Sansa said, surprising everyone. Robb doesn't know what happened to the young girl that used to wait for her prince on a white horse, but surviving the Lannisters gave her a maturity that unnerved Robb. Robb only wished for her coming of age to be less painful.

"Right, then. I have room in my keep for you lot, and I'll set up tents outside for the rest of your men." Walder said, wrapping the negotiations up. "The wine shall flow red! The music shall play loud! And we can put this all behind us."

"Thank you, my lord." Robb gritted through his teeth, glad that it was all over.

They exited the chambers in an orderly fashion. Once they were out, and the doors slammed behind them, he immediately approached and addressed Sansa, holding her by the shoulders.

"Sansa, you did not have to accept." Robb began in haste. "I would've found a way to appease lord Walder without you marrying into his family."

"It's alright, Robb." Sansa cooly responded, unlike the starry-eyed girl he knew Sansa to be. The Sansa he last saw in Winterfell. "I will do anything to protect our family's interests."

Robb thought just how much guilt she has over seeing Eddard's execution and Arya's disappearance; watching it all unfold powerlessly. Still, she didn't have to take the weight of his mistakes upon her back. Rob sullenly looked at the floor for more than a brief moment, considering again, the cost of the war he started.

"Alright." Robb snapped out of his stupor. "I will go tell our men to get ready for a night of drinking. I'll see you all tonight, in lord Walder's main hall."

Robb made his way down the stairs as everyone split up to their own quarters. Everyone except Nero.

"I don't wanna question your customs, Robb, but what the hell was all that?" Nero said. Demanded, more like.

"I had to appease lord Walder after I broke my marriage vow." Robb explained, despite Nero not being someone Robb had to justify himself to. "Lord Edmure will marry one of his daughters, and now Sansa will marry one of his sons as well. It's the only way to preserve our alliance with House Frey"

"Fucking hell, what kind of soap opera have I gotten myself into..." Nero muttered. The white-haired man seems to have sacrificed his manners at the altar of strength. "I was asking about how are you letting this old guy extort your sister like that. Not to mention the way he kept commenting your wife-to-be. Did your other sister even know of the marriage you arranged for her?"

"I did what I had to do to try and rescue my father and my sisters!" Robb shouted at Nero. "She doesn't know, but she would have accepted it if she knew why I did it!"

"Still don't think it's smart to let these guys treat you like a tool. They're supposed to work for you, not the other way around." Nero said as he backed away from Robb and went his own way. "I'll see you in the hall tonight, o dutiful king."

Robb was half a mind to tell the boy to fuck off back to wherever he came from, before he calmed himself. As much of a rude bastard as he is, Nero had a point. The Freys have him 'by the balls' as some of his bannermen would say.

As they parted ways, he went to inform his soldiers of what transpired in lord Walder's halls, stopping by to talk to some of his lesser lords. By the time he spread the word, it was already time for uncle Edmure's ceremony.

They reconvened in a sizable chapel dedicated to the Seven, as evidenced by the great seven-pointed star that stood out in the center of the wall opposite of the entrance. Underneath it, the septon stood with Edmure, both patiently waiting for the bride.

Robb seated himself in the front rows, near his mother and Sansa. He was wondering what the Freys would serve him. It wouldn't surprise anyone if the Freys gave him the worst of the lot, as an added insult. Lord Walder walked to the podium alongside a petite hooded figure in an ornate white dress. Robb was eager to see who would Edmure be marrying, as was everyone else, judging by the way everyone stared at the poor girl on the edge of their seats. What was revealed, however… was surprisingly pretty.

"Lord Edmure." the girl spoke up. "I hope I'm not a disappointment to you."

Edmure smiled, seemingly pleased with his new wife. "You're not, my lady. You are a delight."

"You may now cloak the bride under your protection." The septon began the ceremony in earnest, tying them together in a white band, before they spoke their vows.

"Father, Smith, Warrior." the couple began in unison. "Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am hers and she is mine. From this day, until the end of my days." the two finished together.

"Finally." lord Walder said, before the septon spoke up again. "Let's move to the main hall. I'm starving!" everyone cheered in approval, as the attendees got up from the pews to rush to the feast.

Once they arrived to the lavish hall, they were greeted by rows of tables arrayed with food and drink in excess. The grand table at the forefront of the hall was seated by lord Walder and his young wife, Edmure and his own young wife, along with some other Freys he couldn't recognize. The tables in close vicinity of the lord's table were populated by lord Bolton, uncle Brynden and Catelyn on one side; while the other seated Sansa, Nero, Talisa and Robb himself. Bards were lined up on the open floor above their tables, beating their drums and plucking their strings once the procession arrived. Beneath the musicians lay banners of House Tully, House Stark and House Frey, breaking up the monotony of the grey stone walls.

Robb, for the most part, was glad to have a hearty meal after living off cured meat and hardtack, with some ale here and there. The frugality could be forgotten for one day, he thought. He gossiped about the various Freys with Talisa, and watched his married uncle with amusement. To think he complained so much about the marriage…

"They look lovely, don't they?" Talisa asked.

"I'm really happy for uncle Edmure." Sansa commented.

"I am as well. You couldn't have imagined his constant whining once I suggested the idea." Robb said.

"Nero, are weddings similar to this where you came from?" Talisa asked.

"Kind of, yeah. Add more flashing lights and louder music, and it's basically the same." Nero responded before turning to Robb. "Look, I'm sorry about earlier, Robb. You know what you're doing, and I shouldn't stick my nose in your business."

"Don't be." Robb said. "You were right, despite infuriating me. Hard truths are something nobody wants but everyone needs. Sansa at least knows what she is getting into, unlike Arya, who I made the choice for, without her knowledge."

"Gossiping about me, dear brother?" Sansa invaded the conversation.

"Of course, nobody is safe." Robb quipped back, smiling at his sister. "If you don't like it, we could go back to gossiping Roslin."

"I don't know why you decided to marry Arya, out of all of us." Sansa commented. "You know how she is."

"Mother was the one negotiating with old Walder." Robb added. "I agreed to it because I'd rather see her in Frey hands than in Lannister hands."

"Mother always wanted to make a proper lady out of her…" Sansa said. "I miss Arya."

"I miss her as well." Robb added. "We will find her, I know we will." Robb held her hand in comfort as he finished the sentence. They both had a gloomy look as they reminisced about their little sister.

Robb gazed back to his adjacent table, seeing that uncle Brynden went away, leaving his mother alone with lord Bolton.

"My mother is alone with Roose Bolton. Someone should go and rescue her." Robb said, lightening the conversation.

"Your mother needs the least rescuing, out of all the women I've met." Talisa responded.

"Watch it. She is finally starting to like you." said Robb.

"And I'm beginning to like her as well." said Talisa. "But, if she had her way, I'd be back in Volantis, and you'd be eating blackberries out of Roslin Frey's hand."

"Perhaps I've made a terrible mistake…" Robb joked, making Nero smile, while Talisa and Sansa gasped at him. Talisa moved to hit him, before Robb caught her hand. Robb leaned into her with an intent to kiss her, pulling on her arm to speed up the process, before being interrupted by lord Walder's speech.

"Your Grace!" the crowd grew silent after a moment of rattling the tables. "The septon said some prayers, and lord Edmure wrapped my daughter in a cloak. But, they are not yet man and wife."

"A sword needs a sheath!" the old man cackled, joined in by most of the attendees, while Robb awkwardly looked at his mother, knowing what is to come. "And the Wedding needs a bedding!" lord Walder finished his ribald statement.

"What do you say, my king?" lord Walder asked with a sly smile. The crowd erupted, chanting "Bed! Bed! Bed!" and hitting the table with their cups, fists, whatever they could get their hands on, really.

Robb stood up, walking towards the old lord.

"If you believe the time is right… Then by all means, let us bed them!" Robb commanded, provoking cheers from the crowd that rushed to apprehend the married couple and carry them to their chambers. He tracked them as they were carried away, noticing Talisa's look of shock as she stood up, and Nero's quizzical expression.

"Do you have this part, as well?" Talisa asked Nero.

"Not a chance." said Nero. "I can't imagine how many guys would be leaving their teeth on the wedding hall if they did that to Kyrie or me." Nero took another drink from his cup, as he laid his feet on the table leaning back in his seat.

"That's a strange custom." Talisa now turned to Robb as she walked toward him.

"It is strange for a foreigner, I must admit. But without it, there is no proof the lord and lady consummated their marriage"

"There are… other ways to prove it." she said, guiding his hand to her stomach, which had a small but noticeable bump. To think this day wouldn't have one more surprise in store for Robb…

"Boy or girl?" he asked her, to see which one she wanted to have.

"I don't know, but if it is a son, I know the perfect name for him." she answered.

"Really?" Robb stared at her with a smirk. "I think a father should have some say in-"

"Eddard." she interrupted his speech, stopping his thoughts, as well. Little Ned Stark… "Don't you want to teach little Ned Stark to ride a horse?"

"I do…" he said, finally embracing her in a deep kiss, as the music slowed down into a serenade. His mother was getting antsy all of a sudden, does she still think lord Walder would get his dusty feathers ruffled over a kiss?

"Your Grace." Lord Walder addressed Robb again, as the serenade stopped and he broke the deep kiss. "I feel as I've been remiss in my duties."

"I've treated you with food and wine and music, but not the hospitality that you deserve." he continued. "My King is married to his new queen, and I owe them a wedding gift!" he finished. What kind of wedding gift does he have in mind that needs this kind of introduction… Wait, he hasn't married yet, though.

"Robb!" his mother practically howled and slapped lord Bolton, sending him running.

The sound of a small blade being unsheathed caught his attention, and he saw a man holding a curved dagger going for Talisa.

"Hey, what the hell?!" Nero said, shooting up from his chair and disarming the man and throwing him to the ground. The musicians that stood on the mezzanine were now replaced with crossbowmen who took aim at them.

He saw Nero practically tackle Talisa to the floor, does the brute not know that she is with child?! Robb was still not quite sure of what exactly is happening here, who organized this, and who is attacking them. They were under guest right!

A volley of bolts flew at them, one hitting his mother in the back, two hitting Robb in the shoulder and chest and many hitting Nero.

"You motherfucker!" the sellsword yelled out, briefly overpowering the noise of fighting in the main hall. Robb crawled back to Talisa, reaching out his hand to her. She took hold of it and dragged him behind the table, which was the only cover they had against the incessant volley of bolts. He was glad to see her still unharmed.

"Robb?! You'll be alright, I will help you, hang on." Talisa began in a suppressed panic, before Robb motioned for her to stop.

"Talisa…" he said in a wheeze. His chest burned with every breath he took. He was going to tell her to wait this out, before sticking her head out, but every word made pain radiate from the impact. He decided that keeping her under the tables would do, for now, to communicate his plan without any words.

Several loud bangs, not unlike thunder strikes, went off. He peeked through a gap in the planks of the table and saw Nero use some contraption to blast the crossbowmen off the balcony floor. He spotted his mother taking cover behind some tables as well. He wondered what happened with Roose to make her react like that, and why did he run away. Unless…

Robb was putting together the pieces of the metaphorical picture from the blood-stained shards that littered the main hall, as he was interrupted from his deductive reasoning when a Frey man tried to finish off him and Talisa with a blade, making his wife scream in peril. He mustered what strength he had left to tackle the man down beneath the tables, beyond the reach of crossbows, and end the fight. The man squirmed from the grip Robb had on him, punching Robb with a hand he managed to free. The man tried to stab him with his dagger, but Robb managed to get ahold of a knife that fell from the table and deflect his blow.

"Arrgh!" was the sound Robb made when he realized his deflection didn't go as he expected. He tried to move his blade to the side and away from him, but the side was the cold hard floor. The blade, having nowhere else to go, went up, going across Robb's left eye. Robb was now mad. He wrested the knife from the man's hands by the blade, not caring about how deeply it cut into his palms, before lodging it firmly down his throat, ending the man's life right there. He felt a struggle happen near him, as he saw Talisa shove off another man that was on top of her, who had a fork in his neck and was bleeding out on the stone floor near them.

"By the gods…" Robb was shocked at the scene, as was Talisa, but he also felt a dose of pride wash over him. His lady has a warrior's heart, for sure. If they could live through the initial surprise, they might have a chance to survive this day.

"Ungh… Put me down, you bastard!" lord Walder yelled. Robb peered through a crack in his covering table, looking at the podium where the lord was previously seated, and saw Nero hold a knife at Walder's throat and aimed his thundering contraption at the Freys who were massacring his men. He blasted open a few more of them, before aiming at the crossbowmen whose numbers were ever replenishing. For all his capability, he wasn't armed with his sword, and neither was Robb, since bringing weapons to a wedding is considered blasphemous - another divine law broken by the Freys.

"You didn't say the magic word, grandpa." Nero said. Robb figured out what Nero had already understood a minute ago - that they need to take a few Freys hostage in order to trade their own freedom back. He looked to the table where his mother was, and noticed she held a hostage of her own – Walder Frey's newest wife.

"Well well, you guys sure know how to save the best for last. And it looks like we have ourselves a Mexican standoff…" Nero said, easily holding the decrepit traitor. "How about you lower those crappy toys before old Walder here gets his dusty brain cleaned out?"

"We've got you icebrains surrounded. Stand down and let lord Walder free." one man shouted.

"Enough, lord Frey! Let us go." Robb's mother spoke up, in an exhausted tone. "Let us go and I promise you we will forget this."

"You Starks already made one promise and broke it. What good are your promises, when you would trample them for Essosi cunts?" Walder spoke, his speech troubled by Nero's hold.

"Please!" his mother wheezed, likely from the same pain that is clawing at his own chest, now that he clearly sees the bolt embedded in her back. "He is my only son. Take me as a hostage instead! You already have Edmure and Sansa!" Robb turned briskly to his side to check for Sansa's safety, but she wasn't there. His anxiety and rage rising at whatever these weasels might be doing to her.

"Put the knife down, Valyrian." one Frey told Nero in an even tone.

The situation was tense, Walder and his wife were held up by Nero and Catelyn, respectively. Robb and Talisa were hiding, being watched by several Frey men. Everyone mentioned was in the sights of at least two men with crossbows. The Frey men kept ordering Nero to stand down, but he remained steadfast in his grip. One stray bolt could break this delicate balance and finish the massacre the Freys intended for them.

"Is that…" Nero squinted his eyes and tilted his head, slightly relaxing the grip on the old Frey, as if he was listening for something. Everyone glanced at him, wondering what did he notice, before something crashed through the main door with an ungodly roar and the radiant glow of a shooting star.

"By the Gods!" a man yelled, before being trampled by the demonic creature bursting through the front door. It emitted the same thunderous noise as Nero's contraption did, but at a much shorter interval, as if a storm to end all storms entered the room.

Robb saw the shine of metal in the sky, looking towards it he saw Nero's sword fly from the hellish steed, across the room to Nero's hand. As he tracked the flying blade, he noticed the lack of hostile crossbowmen on the balcony, only some of them slumping over the railing like sacks of potatoes.

"I was wondering when you'd show up." Nero said.

"You know I can't miss a party this crazy." a man spoke, riding the steed. Once the shining star on it's front dimmed, and the steed seemingly vanished, Robb looked towards the man. He had a big, fiery broadsword on his back, and held a pair of contraptions, not unlike Nero's, aiming them at the scant few survivors of his timely arrival. He wore his straight white hair down to his neck and, over his black shirt, he had a red coat. This can only be one man...

"Dante…" Robb said, in awe.

"You know it." Dante shot back to Robb, before picking up a chicken leg from a plate and taking a bite out of it. "Now, let's clean up this mess." he pulled out a slightly larger device, much like a crossbow without the string and bow itself, before turning a gawking Frey into minced meat with the squeeze of a trigger. Robb realized these devices these men have are comparable to crossbows, in the same way that his father's greatsword is comparable to a butter knife. He smiled, looking at the scene and knowing the Freys sealed their doom.

"Find Sansa." He uttered weakly, his body failing him, before he slipped into unconsciousness.

Dante, the Twins

"Robb!" the tanned woman called out to the passed out man who recognized him. It's good to know he has fans all around the world, despite his brief stay. "Robb! Stay with me!"

"I'm surprised he recognizes me. Who is this Sansa we need to find?" Dante asked Nero, as a soldier tried to attack him, only to be nonchalantly blasted away into a fine crimson mist with Dante's sawn-off shotgun.

"I've been telling them all about you and Vergil." said Nero as a man tried to shoot him with a crossbow, only to miss. Nero awarded his effort by installing air-conditioning in his brain using his gun.

"All good things, I assume." Dante switched to his King Cerberus – a multiform weapon that summons the energy of the elements. It can also bonk someone's braincase, as yet another unlucky soldier found out.

"Speaking of, where is Vergil anyways?" Nero said as he dashed to a woman with a crossbow bolt in her back, saving her from two swordsmen that approached her. "I thought you were keeping an eye on him?" Two slashes from below with his sword, and Nero put the men in the latter stages of mitosis.

"I've released him on parole. He still has some business in Essos." Dante spoke the last parts through a grunt, as he twirled his three-section staff around, hitting the soldiers surrounding him, before thrusting his staff into the single one that remained. The flames erupting from his pole melted their armors, which fused with their remains.

"Something with the Targaryen girl?" Nero said, charging up a shot that went through multiple men and ricocheting off the stone wall to pierce a crossbowman or two on the balcony.

"Kind of. I think he went to pulverize some slaver cities." Dante said, facing some soldiers that charged him. He gave them a charge of his own by sweeping his three-section staff in a broad horizontal sweep, striking the soldiers with lightning.

"Why did you side with her anyway? Were you two aware that the girl's father used medieval napalm to fry people he didn't like?" Nero questioned." Or the fact that her brother kidnapped a Stark girl to get his rocks off?" Nero sent a man flying to the ceiling with one of his spectral wings as he finished his question.

"What?" Dante was surprised to hear this. He slammed his weapon on the floor, causing an ice crystal to pop out of the ground, under the feet of oncoming enemies, sending them flying. "All I've heard is that some guy named Robert took her father's throne, his own bodyguard killed him, and the bodyguard's rich father had her little nephews killed."

"Yeah I've heard that part too. Guess she omitted some key details, then. Now, watch this." Nero shot out his red robotic fist out of his arm, sending it flying like a key through the air, before he jumped on it to hitch a ride. He navigated the soaring arm rocket to a group of fleeing enemies, before dismounting the thing with a backflip, while the arm hit the group with an explosion strong enough to turn the fleeing men into obituaries. "Pretty cool, eh?"

"What's also cool is that those rich kids, the Lannisters or something, manage to be assholes in both sides of the story." Nero said, gunning down soldiers from a distance.

There were three more soldiers that stood back with crossbows, paired with one swordsman standing near them. One of them dropped his crossbow on the floor with a clatter, triggering the thing by accident, which fired a bolt into the cooling body of his deceased comrade.

"Mercy, my lords. Mercy, I beg you!" the one who surrendered said. Dante and Nero approached the group in a leisurely pace.

Dante scanned the grisly scenery of what appeared to be a happy wedding.

The man who called his name out was being patched up by the girl next to him, she had a stern look, maintaining what composure she had, though her pooling tears betrayed her true emotions. Quite a pair, though. He tanks, she heals.

The woman Nero rescued clutched onto a girl, pressing a knife to her throat. If it wasn't for the crossbow bolt and the fact that Nero jumped in for her, Dante would think she was one of the bad guys.

The men before them slowly settled down their crossbow on the floor, and even the swordsman's fighting spirit faltered.

"We surrender, my lord" He knelt, and tried to maintain a submissive gaze to the floor. His anxiety wouldn't let him, however, because he kept glancing up to the men, wondering what horrors they have in store for him.

Nero and Dante shared a look, before Dante ruffled the man's hair and patted him on his back three times.

"Atta boy." Dante told the man, with a condescending tone. "Now, where can we find this Sansa?"

"I don't know, my lord." the man said quickly. Too quickly.

"Aww, c'mon. Don't bullshit me." Nero said with a smile. "If you know when to quit, you can surely realize when to lie." Nero stabbed his sword in the floor the man stared at, making the man flinch. Nero crouched to face the man, saying in a low, threatening voice: "And this is not the time for lying."

"I don't know, my lords. I swear it! Please!" the man said.

"Robb… Robb!" the older lady released the girl, before rushing to the passed out man. "Is he going to be alright? I can't go through this again!" she said in a plaintive voice to the girl crouching near him.

"He isn't bleeding anymore, I'll have to carry him to the proper quarters to remove the bolts, though." the girl said in an uneven tone, "His eye got lacerated, as well. I'm afraid he is going to lose it."

"He will live?" the lady asked to confirm what she was hearing through the medical chatter.

"Most likely, yes." The girl nodded before looking towards her. "Lady Stark?! You have been injured as well. Let me help…"

Dante turned away from the heartfelt scene as the girl began patching up the woman's wounds, his attention being drawn by his rambunctious nephew.

"So…" Nero spoke. "This is where you two decided to go on a little vacation. Was it Vergil's idea? That book he gave me looks like it belongs in here."

"Vergil wanted to bring us home, but he messed up and landed us in some wizard's castle." Dante explained, before his tone became inquisitive. "You're the one that came here on a vacation, though. Remember what we told you before we went to the underworld – we can leave because you're there to protect it. What made you think it was a good idea to leave Earth undefended?"

"Nico made a portal for me to come here and take you back. Can't have you two fucking up another world more than you already did." Nero shot back. "I'm sure Lady and Trish have things under control."

"Quite gentlemanly of you to leave them to do the hard work. Did Nico also make an interdimensional phone for you to call her here?" Dante asked, already knowing the answer would disappoint him.

"I uhh…" Nero scratched his head and looked to the side.

"Brilliant plan you two had there." Dante scolded Nero. "Can you just imagine the mess you've left those crazy girls in?"

Lady, Earth

It's been more than a week since Dante and Vergil left to sever that overgrown demon weed splitting the town in half. Frankly, It's been a blessing for their business ever since. With no Vergil around to create mayhem and no Dante to sink their business further into debt, things couldn't be any better.

She gazed around the office, her feet placed on the desk as she reclined in the comfortable leather chair, soaking in the little things that make life here worth living: the electricity powering the light and heating the water, the furniture she picked out with Morrison to make this hovel look less decrepit, and the olives on the pizza, which Dante used to forbid from the premises. She scoffed. A legendary devil hunter, able to deal with demon kings in the blink of an eye, but seemingly unable to afford things that most regular people have. Truly amazing.

"Gals, gals!" Nico burst in through the door, interrupting her from taking another sip of the cider on the desk. "We got a problem."

Lady sighed. Of course nothing good can last here. Judging by her experience with a certain family, it has something to do with Nero.

"Do tell." Lady motioned for Nico with a slice of pizza in her hand. "Want a slice?"

"It's Nero." Nico said, rejecting the offer and getting straight to business. Of course it's Nero. "We found Dante and Vergil, they managed to get outta the underworld."

"What happened? Where are they now?" Lady immediately lowered her legs from the table, knowing that this can't be good.

"They're in a whole 'nother world, all medieval like! I sent Nero to get them back, but I forgot to make a return mechanism, or to make an interdimensional phone." Nico finished, rushing to get all her thoughts out. "We have to get them back!"

"There there" Lady comforted Nico. "We will do our best to find them, I promise you. Now, how about you sit down, have a slice of pizza and we'll forget all about it."

"Forget all about it? Are you alright in the head, They are-" Nico tried to elaborate, but Lady wasn't going to let her ruin this peace.

"Look around you. This place is finally in working condition. There are no demon kings or demon trees or demon towers. Perhaps they need some time to relax with some jugglers and jesters in Disneyland or wherever you said they went." said Lady. "Until then, we have all this to ourselves. Now, I think Trish is coming over. We are going shopping. And you…" Lady pressed her finger against Nico's forehead. "Are coming with us!"

"W-what I-" Nico tried to speak up again, before Trish stepped in the shop.

"Hey." Trish greeted Lady and Nico. "The door's open. Why? Does the draftiness make you nostalgic for times without heating?"

"Hey yourself." Lady greeted back. "No, Nico just came in here to tell us that Nero went where Dante is. Apple cider?" she held a bottle aloft for Trish.

"No, we're supposed to go shopping, remember? Also, where did Nero go?" Trish turned to Nico. "Is he in the underworld as well?"

"Nope, they went… Nico will explain along the way. Let's go." Lady said, as she stood up. She turned to Nico, beckoning her to stop sulking and follow them. "First outfit is on me." Lady smiled as the trio left the shop.

Dante, the Twins

"Shit…" Nero said under his breath. "So, what's the plan?"

Dante sighed. "We do what we usually do, and find our way back home. Sadly, this world doesn't have an evacuation route, so we gotta keep our eyes peeled for anything that might help."

"Didn't Vergil try using his sword to make another portal." Nero asked.

"That's what got us into this mess in the first place." Dante replied. "I don't think the Yamato is the solution." Dante said. As he finished, however, scores of soldiers looking for a rematch walked in, some bearing crossbows and shooting at the two of them.

"You go look for the girl, I'll deal with these guys." Dante told Nero, who nodded and ran outside the main hall.

"He's getting away, after him!" one man shouted, to which several soldiers went to chase after Nero. Dante quickly reacted to the pursuers by throwing his new deadly fashion accessory – the demonic Dr. Faust hat – at the pursuers' knees, who stopped in their tracks after it cut through them.

"Leaving so soon?" Dante asked the ones that gave chase, as they collapsed, catching the whirling cowboy hat as it returned to his hands, before donning it.

The soldiers stopped to look in utter confusion at Dante standing there in a garb redolent of a menacing flamenco dancer. Even the bearers of crossbows lowered their sights to catch a better look of the sharp-dressed man.

"Not liking my wedding attire?" Dante asked the crowd of stunned soldiers. "Well, here's another one for ya."

Dante's demonic form flashed to life in the main hall, horrifying the soldiers who got more than they bargained for. He unleashed a swarm of fireballs from his wings as he took to the air, each one homing in on a hapless target, piercing through their armor and body and leaving a glowing hole in its wake.

This feat of strength eliminated most of the soldiers who charged in thinking two men would be a piece of cake to deal with, but the few that remained were unlucky enough to be the victims of Dante's phantom copies of his own devil sword. The red holograms of his broadsword cleaved through the rest, once he teleported near the group. He finally tricked back to his original position, fading out of his Devil Trigger, and keeling over on his knees. His new abilities were greatly powerful, but greatly exhausting as well.

Getting back on his feet, he saw the terrified faces of the soldiers that surrendered a while ago. "You have no idea how lucky you are." Dante told them.

"As for you." Dante approached the old man in the center in a leisurely stride, whom Nero had at knifepoint.

"Just kill me and be done with it." the old man said. He wore the expression of a man who completely resigned to his fate.

"Whoa, hey, not so fast." Dante said. "First, you tell me what happened here."

"I heard you're one of the men who helped Daenerys Targaryen get her slave army and sack a city with it." the old man spat out. "I don't have to explain myself to Targaryen scum! Argh!" the old man croaked out, as Dante pushed his sword through the man's forearm.

"I won't just 'kill you and be done with it' if you keep being a crotchety old bastard." Dante threatened.

"Walder!" the injured lady shouted, surprising Dante. "You broke the law of the gods when you trampled over the guest right you gave us. And now, you reap what you've sown. Confess your crimes and face justice."

"My crimes…" Walder began in a growl, as he got up from the floor. "My crimes are not entirely my own. Tywin promised me a nice reward for doing this."

"If you want justice, you can find it in King's Landing." Walder said, seating himself back in his chair. "Tell Tywin that I'm saving a seat for him in one of the seven hells."

"I knew they paid you." the lady said. "I knew it from the moment my ears heard that awful song of his!"

"You got beef with some singer?" Dante asked the woman that rapidly approached old Walder in his chair.

"I'll tell you about Tywin later, but before that…" she picked up a knife from the floor on her way, before rapidly stabbing Walder to the tune of his senescent croaks that weakened with each thrust of the utensil.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side." Dante commented on her fury. The woman just looked back at him with the same scowl she approached the dead lord with, before remembering that she had a crossbow bolt pierce her, contorting from the pain and stiffening her back in an awkward position.

"Tywin Lannister…" the woman began before another soldier burst through the door. This one was bigger and uglier, perhaps the old man's son? There was a little girl with him as well.

"Arya?!" the woman said, once she turned to face the newcomers.

"Mother?!" the girl yelled as she ran from the hold the man had on her.

"Dante." Nero said, holding on to a red head with tearful eyes.

"Nero." Dante said, leaning back on the high table, acknowledging his nephew and colleague.

"Arya?" the ginger girl said in a weepy tone.

"Sansa!" Arya said through the embrace her mother held her in. Sansa approached them both in a hug of her own.

"You…" Nero said, to the big guy, of all people.

"Fuck me." the big man said.

"Nero?" Dante was wondering how Nero knew this guy. Unless…

"That's right, you're fucked." Nero said as he rapidly approached the man, reaching for his sword.

"Wait!" the little girl cried out. The man stood still, but the fear in his eyes was evident. He was obviously hoping someone would speak up for him before Nero swatted him back to where he came from. Nero turned around to the girl's command.

"Don't kill him. He helped me get here. He is mean, but he helped me." the little girl played lawyer for the man. "Sansa, he told me he helped you too, back in King's Landing. Was he lying?"

"Horseshit, I saw him guard that blonde boy-king as he beat her, and then try to protect him when I interfered." Nero said.

Sansa spoke up after a short pause. "It's true. Both of those things. There was a… a riot in King's Landing, back when Myrcella was sent to Dorne. Several men took me and tried to… to…" she gulped down the word she tried to speak out, Dante knew what it was about, regardless of whether it went unspoken or not. "Either way, he killed the men and escorted me back to the castle. He is not a good man, but he is not evil either. He just did what they told him to."

Dante took a look at the man, he was badly disfigured on one side of his face, looked like a complete brute and just stood there, tall as a tower, without uttering a single sound.

Nero had regained his calm, now that he head the story, and gave up on punching the man's one-way ticket to hell.

"What is your name?" Dante asked the man.

"I am Sandor Clegane. I came here after Stannis attacked the capital and escorted the girl here." the man said.

"I am thankful for the safe return of my daughter, but also within my right to punish you for guarding the king while he abused my other daughter" the lady said. "You can understand the predicament I face?" The man just grunted.

"You want something in return, do you not?" the lady asked him.

"That's up to you, my lady." Sandor said.

"It's up to king Robb. We will see what he says once he wakes up." the lady concluded.

"Is Robb okay?" the little girl – Arya – asked.

"Talisa took him to be taken care of. I trust he will be alright, as she told me he will." the older lady said.

"That's Robb's betrothed." Sansa added, upon seeing Arya's confusion. "Finally I get to introduce you to someone instead."

The little girl smiled, before her eyes turned misty and she hugged her sister.

"I'm sorry." Arya said through Sansa's scraped dress, staining it with her tears. "I'm sorry for leaving you."

"You have nothing to be sorry for, Arya." Sansa answered with a sniffle of her own. "I'm sorry I treated you poorly before. I thought those stupid names were the last thing you'd remember me by."

The only thing interrupting the sobbing from the two sisters was the clatter of cutlery as Dante smeared some cottage cheese over a piece of bread.

"Wait, you were at King's Landing when I rescued Sansa." Nero began. "Where was Arya then?"

"How did you end up with him, Arya? That's a good question." Arya's mother asked.

"I found her with the Brotherhood Without Banners. The fuckers put me on trial by combat and nearly killed me, much to your daughter's disappointment. I took her from those fire lovers and brought her back here, masked as a butcher." Sandor explained.

"A butcher whom you previously beat up." Arya added to his list of crimes. "They also took Gendry away."

"Those fuckers are taking a lot of people these days, once Stannis got smashed on the beach of the Blackwater." Sandor said.

"You speak so proudly of that battle, but you ran from it!" Arya responded.

"Fire worshipers, you say?" Nero commented. "Any relation to the Lord of Light you mentioned a while ago?"

"Aye, the Lord of Light." Sandor continued. "That red priestess took her little friend and that drunk fuck Thoros as well."

"What was her name?" Dante asked.

"Mello Sandra or some shit. Do you know her? You seem like the type." said Sandor.

"No, but it might be good to keep it in mind." said Dante. The others began talking amongst themselves when Dante pulled Nero for a quick chat.

"You seem interested in that fire religion. Had a change of faith recently?" Dante asked through a quip.

"Yeah, very funny." Nero didn't take the joke well. "Catelyn, the older lady, said that she saw a shadow stab another guy out of thin air. Described it just like V used to do with that cat of his."

"Uh huh…" Dante said, expecting some sort of connection between these events.

"The shadow had a face of a guy who consorted with a red priestess." Nero said.

"Ah, so the point emerges." Dante said. "You think they aren't just kooky fire worshipers?"

"I'd suggest checking them out, but they seem to be on the move." Nero said. "We can let them go to their hiding place and follow their trail."

"Or they can elude us completely and summon all the shadow demons they want." Dante countered.

Dante turned to yet another new arrival to the room that interrupted his conspiring with Nero.

"My… lords and ladies?" The woman that healed the man was there, stumbling with her words. "Robb has awoken."

Vergil, Volantis

Making his way further east, Vergil reached Volantis, where every four out of five men are said to be enslaved. Said slaves are marked with a tattoo designating their skillset and their position in life – permanently. Volantis is a sprawling harbor city situated at the mouth of a river entering the sea beyond, with a harbor so large that even a modern military fleet could be docked inside and have room to spare for a few cruise ships. It falls under the group of so-called 'Free Cities' in which freedom was a guarantee only in Braavos, perhaps Pentos as well.

The style of architecture shifted from the pyramids, ziggurats and flat-top housing found in Slaver's Bay; to large, soaring arches and intricately-detailed walls and columns, reminiscent of ancient Byzantium. The onion-shaped domes, like those found in Meereen, were replaced with a more traditional hemisphere that crowned the buildings. Much of the architecture stood out to Vergil. For one, a building, colored in warm, fiery hues of red and orange, with countless towers, crennellated walls and domes that merged the colors together into what appeared as a blaze. Admired from afar, it looked like a snapshot of a powerful blaze.

The city itself was split in two by the river it settled on, the two disparate parts connected by a large, arching bridge – large enough to contain a row of small buildings on each of its sides – which led Vergil to discover that one side of the city had a district that looked charred, as if it endured a fire. Upon further inspection, one could see people inside the buildings, living lavish lives. The material itself wasn't even charred, as it had a glossy shine to it. Interesting.

He noticed a crowd of slaves and freemen form in front of a man giving a heartfelt speech. Perhaps a revolt was being planned against their lords in onyx towers. Vergil landed subtly in a stray alley that led to the crowd, pushing past as he donned his travel cloak, wishing to hear their plans.

"Daenerys Targaryen, the one who was promised, soon approaches, but on her glorious wings lay two impure shadows!" a man, with a myriad of tattoos on his face said, possibly indicating that he was a man of many skills. His speech was marked with an abnormal vocalization. "This I tell you, I've seen it in the flames! Savages across the narrow sea waste blood in their sunset lands over petty disputes, while the true evil grows in number from the ranks of their fallen!"

"The Great Other is rising! Returning from it's slumber, it comes for our souls and our bodies!" the mad preacher continued. As Vergil focused on the speech, he could notice the source of the man's speech impediment - he had his lips removed, likely in a ritualistic sacrifice to gain more power.

The crowd was gasping at the revelation, while Vergil just shook his head disapprovingly. In his eyes, another apocalyptic cult that told of an impending cataclysm, that never comes, is nothing more than a hurried scam. Vergil knows how apocalyptic events of that magnitude actually happen, having caused a few of those himself. In his experience, it doesn't involve winded prophecies or ancient enemies, only a man with ability and the willpower to do whatever is necessary.

As he was about to leave the crowd to their torn-lipped prophet, a girl, no older than twelve, approached him, pulling on his coat. She had a dark carmine tone of hair, which spiraled down the sides of her face in neat curls.

"Hail, dark slayer. I know why you are here." the girl said in a far too imperial voice, considering her age. "Should you follow me, I could help you."

"And you are?" Vergil humored the girl, the fact that she uttered his moniker from his youth being of interest to him. It's strange, however, that she addresses him as such, since he hasn't used that title here in this world.

"Ginnevre, ser Vergil." she responded with a smile. "Shall-"

"And what do you know of my purpose here?" he interrogated the strange girl in a hushed growl. The people dispersed as the public sermon ended and started seeping from the crowd into the alleys surrounding it.

"I know of your origins." the girl said, as people streamed past them. "A sermon will start at our temple, when twilight falls. Be there before it begins and you will find your answers. You already know the location."

It was only them now, and the makeshift podium, which remained in the wide street.

"Introduce yourself at the sacrificial pit. Farewell." the girl said before turning and leaving into one of the numerous shady alleys that flowed out the sides of the cobbled street.

Vergil was, indeed, curious. The mortals' experience with him in this world was mainly through a demonic katana that cut them down in a blinding speed. For someone to know of him and openly approach him with no trepidation… He decided it was worth seeing what these cultists wanted.

He went past numerous braziers as he entered the temple itself, which was largely empty, save for the wayward believer paying his tributes. There was an altar in front of a wide, yet shallow pit; which could be found past the sizable plateau intended for the gathering flock of believers. There were multiple rooms on three floors surrounding the pit itself. Many of them bore ornate golden decorations on the exterior that fit well with the red and black colors in which they were painted. As Vergil walked to the center, he could only be reminded of his visit to Fortuna.

"In what distant deeps or skies, burnt the fire of thine eyes?" Vergil recited in front of the altar. "On what wings dare he aspire? What the hand, dare seize the fire?"

As he finished his poem, a woman with similar carmine hair to the girl, flowing like a crimson waterfall down to her shoulders and over her chest, walked out of a chamber where the clergy resided. She wore strangely suggestive clothes for a priest, her long crimson dress sporting a cleavage and a corset.

"I was told that there were answers for me here." Vergil spoke in a raised, but calm tone, to the woman, once he stood in front of the altar. "Or have I been led astray?"

"The Lord of Light does not lead his faithful astray." she told him, sporting a cocky smile. The little girl that stood by his side ran up to her. The woman acknowledged the girl with a warm smile, before turning to Vergil again. "He led Ginnevre to you – one of noble blood."

"And, consequently, myself to your abode. Shall we dispense with the pleasantries?" Vergil uttered in a dark tone, hoping the question carried the unspoken threat as well. He didn't come here to play games with zealots.

"I am Kinvara." the woman said. "High Priestess of the Temple of the Lord of Light. You must be Vergil, son of Sparda."

"To what do I owe this invitation?" Vergil pressed on with the questions.

"We wish to aid you in your quest." the woman said with a slight playful smile, as if hiding her amusement.

"Curious, considering your illustrious organization also deals in slavery. What do you gain from toppling the nobility, that you don't already have?" Vergil said. Kinvara hid her amusement slightly less, once Vergil finished.

"I thought we were dispensing with the pleasantries?" Kinvara said to Vergil. "Your dismantling of slavery is but a pastime while you pursue your true goal – your desire to return home."

"So, you wish to be rid of me." Vergil said. "For all you've researched about me, I highly doubt you can grasp the means by which I traveled to this world. You are a cult, nothing more."

"So was Fortuna, and yet-" Vergil drew his katana at Kinvara once he heard the woman mention Fortuna, leveling the blade at the woman's neck. Guards began rushing to the scene, sporting scarlet armor with a white-gold trim. The woman didn't so much as flinch as the sword appeared out of it's sheath in a flash and caressed her neck, she only motioned the approaching guards to cease their folly.

"Where did you learn of that?" he growled at the scarlet-clad woman. She brought her hand gently to Yamato, trailing over the edge with her thumb, cutting herself. She admired the pooling blood on her thumb, as a merchant would admire a precious gem.

"Whatever my answer may be, you would dismiss it as the rambling of a mad priestess." the woman scolded Vergil in a haughty tone, as if she was his grandmother. "However, I will say one thing: Do not be so precipitous to dismiss my services, young shadow. It is not in accord with the way you carry yourself."

"Don't be so impudent to correct my behavior." Vergil said, before lowering his katana, not sheathing it yet. "You forget that I'm not one of your followers. Now, explain yourself. This time, without digression." he commanded the woman in front of him.

"The Lord of Light has shown us in the flames all we need to know. His way might be mysterious to some, but his will is undeniable." the woman began her explanation. "You might not be one of His followers, but you can help us, and we can help you."

"Elaborate." Vergil urged the woman to continue.

"I shall explain further in my chambers, should you wish to come there with me." the woman said. Vergil was wondering how much time had he wasted with this already. Dante and Nero might have already reconvened by now. Upon sensing Vergil's growing impatience, as well as his lack of movement, she turned around to face him and continued. "If you are concerned about your brother and son, then allow me to inform you that you have no reason to be. They will be attending a wedding soon." she smiled.

He followed, after the woman turned to the door she appeared from, and started walking. He would see for himself if these fire worshipers could truly be of use to getting back home, or if they were just blowing smoke.

The room Vergil entered was unusual, for a temple quarter. He expected more austerity from the priestess, but her room looked just as lavish as the ones the masters had, except for the smaller dimensions. The wooden walls were decorated with shelves containing various ingredients in tiny jars, many leather-bound books with no title etched upon them, and even several blades with sandalwood handles. Burgundy candles stood firmly on the candelabras, which had a small cup in their junctions, filled with resin – dragon's blood. Another resin brazier stood on an end table, with the rose-colored resin piled inside it. In the midst of it all, there laid a king-sized bed. Red sheets upon it.

"Quite ostentatious for a priest's residence." Vergil commented. "I admire the commitment to… metaphor."

"Indeed. It complements your coat very well, Vergil." Kinvara smiled. Vergil didn't.

The woman handed him a drink she poured to the both of them, which Vergil eyed suspiciously.

"It's wine. Red, of course." the woman stated. She took a fairly large gulp before starting her explanation.

"The Lord of Light has shown us, in his divine blaze, a way to open a gateway to your world. In order to accomplish this, we need the help of one such as you, young shadow." Kinvara stated, setting down her cup, before walking to a shelf with reagents.

"And what, pray tell, do you possibly gain from this?" Vergil asked.

"Is helping a noble man such as yourself not rewarding enough?" Kinvara asked. She was walking around the place, brushing past Vergil constantly as she did.

"Your flattery is grating and I'm not one of your nobles." Vergil said.

"You're closer to lordship than you might think, Vergil." the scarlet woman rebutted. "Even the Valyrians forgot their true roots. Other than that, it is our wish to gain knowledge about your world." she sat on the bed, beckoning Vergil. Vergil approached the bed, yet remained standing, towering above the carmine priestess.

"You must admit that your world can offer us a wealth of information. I assure you, our intentions are noble." Kinvara said.

"I don't need to be convinced of my homeworld's propensity." Vergil said. "I remain unconvinced of your ambitions."

She stood up, her head at the level of Vergil's chest, as she looked up to him.

"You and I are both aware that nobody else is offering you a solution at all, much less a better one." The woman said as she grazed over Vergil's arm with her hands, making her way to his neck. He wanted to smack her hands off her, before he recognized a familiar scent - the smell of myrrh and frankincense burning in rosewood… It reminds him of…

"No." he gently lowered her hand, after indulging himself in the nostalgic odor. "I see through your charade. You want your own Nero, to enforce your dogma. I'm not making that mistake again."

"Is Nero a mistake?" Kinvara asked, her stance less relaxed. "The night is dark and full of terrors – your child, under our guidance, would be the protector of this world."

"Or a sacrificial lamb. My blood is not a gift that is so freely given." Vergil stated, while the woman tensed up as if someone extinguished a cigar on her back.

"Why would I waste a gift like that?!" Kinvara said in a shock that is not 'in accord with the way she carries herself', as she would say.

"Your lord works in mysterious ways, as you put it." Vergil said, turning his back and taking a few steps toward the door. "However, one mystery I'd like to solve is the source of the knowledge you possess. These 'visions' you spoke about."

Vergil drew Yamato from its sheath, turning around to aim the demonic steel at the witch, cornering her in her own room.

"You will tell me how you have this power, if you wish to hold your little sermon tonight." Vergil said in a tone as sharp as the edge that threatened to cut the woman down.

"The Lord of Light gives us these visions. Only the priests of R'hllor can a-" Kinvara didn't manage to finish before Vergil grabbed her by the neck.

"We will be progressing at an advanced pace. There is a firepit nearby, there are also braziers here. I suggest you start assisting me once I let go of your throat."

Kinvara dropped to her knees once Vergil let her go, gasping for air and checking her necklace for damage. "Very well then." she answered once she got back to her feet. "To contact the Lord of Light, you need a bead of red coral in the blaze to be your lens." she cleared her throat before continuing.

"You need a root of rotted peony dahlia that is still alive, for only they can be used to bear flowers with vibrant red shades. Write your plea on a piece of ebony paper, along with your name, and put a drop of your blood on it as a signature and burn it."

"Interesting." Vergil commented. "Let's see a demonstration."

The woman showed an anxiousness as she gathered the reagents.

"Young shadow, if you want this knowledge, I implore you to heed our interpretations instead. R'hllor does not give out gifts to the undeserving." she said in a rushed tone. Vergil didn't respond with anything other than a hard glare.

"Lord of Light, forgive me my transgression." she said, as she finalized the ritual and set the brazier ablaze, stepping away from the blaze in an unusual fear.

Vergil closed the distance between him and the flame. He wrote his demands on the paper, pricked a drop of blood from his finger, and smeared it on the paper, before tossing it in and waiting for the result.

It was a regular fire, nothing more. For a short while the paper crackled in the blaze, but nothing out of the ordinary. That is, until the bead inside cracked, looking as if the slightest breeze would carry its shards away along with the ashes. This was enough to send Kinvara into a panic

"How is it possible?! The core is riddled with cracks! How?!" Kinvara had an almost panicked voice as she analyzed the remains. "How did you…?"

Vergil was sheathing his katana in a slow, deliberate manner when the woman was done sifting through the brazier in her frenzy. He did not respond to her questions, nor did he demand more details of what transpired. He heard enough.

Suddenly, the shocked woman was frozen in place as she saw several mirage blades poised at her.

"Thank you for wasting my time with this mockery of a procedure." Vergil said before he launched the blades at the priestess. Kinvara was impaled within seconds to the wall behind her.

Vergil busted down the door, seeing a sizable amount of people gathered, waiting for the evening mass. Several priests were shocked at Vergil's sudden appearance. He walked towards the sacrificial pit, regarding the He tore down the comically large fireplace, shocking many onlookers inside, before standing in front of the crowd.

Vergil quickly dispatched the clergy in a storm of mirage blades and a couple of arcs of energy that emerged from the phantom sword in his hand, searing even the temple walls as they cut through the priesthood ranks. He paid his disrespects to the Lord of Light by slamming into the sacrificial pit and altar with his demonic greaves, rendering them unfit for further rituals. He took flight, not dealing with the guards that rushed to save what could not be saved anymore, and burst through the ceiling.

In hopes of convincing Vergil to do their bidding, they played their strongest card, revealing a power he wanted for himself. Even though he gained nothing from this temple, there are three more temples along the way to Westeros that could offer the knowledge that the priestess possessed, Vergil thought, as he set his sights on the closest city harboring a temple to the Red God.