Okay, folks. We got a little longer chapter today. Sorry, I'm running a bit behind schedule! It's been a busy week! This chapter follows the events of 8x04. As always, there will be flashbacks.
I want to take a second to thank everyone that reviewed, followed, or favorited this story! Thank you so much for the support!
P.S. Please excuse any typos, I've tried going through this, but I noticed in some earlier chapters that I had some mistakes so there are probably a few in this one as well.
Once again: I don't own anything of GOT, only the original characters.
"Harder!" Bjornen's father ordered. Bjornen hated this. He wished he could go swimming or explore the southern woods. He was tired of fighting, of training; he knew he was not meant for leading. He did not want to lead, but his father did not understand this. His father had wanted to be chief, but Thorgils had won the Gatlopp when they were younger, and now his father was convinced that Bjornen would win the next one. Bjornen knew he would not.
"Again!"
Bjornen stifled a groan, and moved into his stance. Bjalfi swung his battle-ax at Bjornen's face. With a quick movement, Bjornen blocked the blow and deflected. He went on offense, knowing if he did, the fight would be over quickly. He was right. The second Bjornen swung Bjalfi twisted the blade out of his hand and threw him on his back. Bjornen groaned in pain.
"You are sloppy." Bjalfi criticized. "You see her?" He pointed to the left.
Looking to where his father directed, Bjornen could see Aldvilde training with one of the women warriors. She was beating the woman warrior. "See how she has purpose in every blow? She does not get sloppy or back down. Why can you not be like her?"
Bjornen let his head fall to the earth. He did not say anything because he knew his father would not listen. Again, he was right.
"She is a strong warrior because she fights with her soul. I do not know if you have a soul to fight with." Bjalfi said to himself, moving to pick up the various weapons they had been training with. "You fight as if you have no soul; like sea grass, bending to the will of the ocean, not standing firm. She is like steal: strong. You are not." Bjalfi was still talking as he walked away, shaking his head in disappointment.
Bjornen listened as he went, lying still on the grass and wishing he were somewhere else.
"That was harsh." Spoke a voice to his right, making Bjornen startle and jerk his head towards the sound. Ingrid was standing above him, with a laughing smile and kind eyes. Bjornen blinked into the harsh sun and moved his hand to block the light so he could look at Ingrid's face.
"Were you listening?"
She shrugged, "I did not mean to, but your father is not quiet."
Bjornen snorted, closing his eyes and letting his hand fall to the ground. "No, he is not."
Ingrid sat next to him on the grass. "Are you alright?" She asked softly.
He shrugged the best he could while laying on the grass.
She sighed. "Aldvilde is angry. It is anger that pushes her fight, not her soul." Bjornen turned and watched Aldvilde fight. He could see her anger from here. She was scowling and her movements, while powerful, were harsh and unyielding.
"You have a soul, Bjornen." Ingrid said kindly. "And your soul helps you fight. Someday you will be the best fighter of all of us."
Bjornen shook his head, staring at Aldvilde as she pushed the warrior into the dirt. "No, I do not think so."
Ingrid watched from the doorway as a young man was named "Lord Gendry Baratheon of Storm's End." She watched as the man tried to leave, only to be stopped by the Queen. She watched as she overruled his apparent illegitimate birth. She watched the shocked faces turn into cheering faces as the new Lord toasted to his new title. And all while she watched, Ingrid tried to riddle out exactly what was happening. It seemed the more she learned about their culture, the more confused she became.
She did not understand their titles. She did not fully understand what Lords and Ladies did. She understood that they served the King or Queen, which were like Chiefs in Ingrid's mind. But it also seemed like there were duties Chiefs had that Kings and Queens did not participate in, perhaps this is where the Lords and Ladies intervened? Ingrid did not know. Nor did she understand the significance behind the naming ceremony she just witnessed.
She was jolted out of her stupor by the body crashing into hers.
"I'm sorry!" Cried out the new Lord. He had apparently tried to leave but had not seen her in time. "Sorry. I'm sorry…Chief." He stumbled and moved to walk away again. Ingrid grinned; a perfect opportunity to answer her questions had appeared.
"Lord Gendry!" She called, walking after him. His body jumped and he turned to face her with a startled look, his eyes wide.
"I'm not…don't call me that." He mumbled. Once again, Ingrid was confused. She was becoming tired of being confused. It would be nice to finally return home.
"I apologize." She said. "I thought that was your name."
"Gendry." He corrected. "Just Gendry."
She nodded. "Alright. Just Gendry then." She smiled.
He was a very nice man because he smiled back, if not a bit shyly.
"Just Gendry, I was hoping you could answer some questions." She asked, getting back on topic. He immediately looked puzzled and looked around for someone else to take his place. Ingrid felt the need to elaborate so she added, "About your new title. I do not understand titles and bastards."
He jerked his eyes back to hers. "You don't understand bastards?" He asked. "Do you not have bastards where you're from?"
She grinned and shook her head. "We do, but we do not call them such. They are just children."
He looked amazed. "We do not have traditional marriage like you do here." Ingrid explained, "We also do not inherit as you do here, so bastards are not a problem in Eurkos." She shrugged.
Just Gendry looked dazed. "That sounds amazing." He said, but he said it so quietly, Ingrid thought that perhaps he was talking to himself.
"So, could you answer my questions?" She asked again. He looked up, as if realizing she was still there and then frowned conflicted. He looked around the courtyard but appeared to have made up his mind. He smiled kindly, "Sure."
Ingrid was concerned. "Did I take you away from a task? I did not mean to."
His eyes widened. "No." He said, jerking his arms before he realized that he should not touch her and then jerkily moved them back to his sides. "No, I was just lookin' for someone."
"Oh?" Ingrid asked. "Who? Perhaps I could help." She grinned.
Just Gendry gulped. He inhaled a large breath before nodding to himself. "The Lady Arya?"
Ingrid's face brightened. She knew this woman. "You know Lady Stark?"
"Er…yeah." He nodded, bobbing his head.
Ingrid grinned widely, remembering the Lady's fighting skills during the battle and her victory over the Night King. The Lady was impressive indeed. "She is a great fighter, is she not?"
"Yeah…" Ingrid glanced at Just Gendry's face and saw him staring off to the side. She grinned. "And beautiful too." She added.
"Yeah…."
Ingrid tilted her head, staring at Just Gendry with a twinkle in her eye. "You like her." She stated. This shook Just Gendry out of his trance.
"What?" He said, with a scared look on his face. "No, I-"
"Do not worry." Ingrid interrupted, laughing. "I will not tell. I promise." He sighed, relieved.
"Why are you looking for her?" Ingrid asked.
"I just wanted to check on her." Just Gendry shrugged. "I saw her after the battle, but I haven't seen her since the burning this morning and I wanted to see if she was alright."
Ingrid nodded. Yes, he did like her. He liked her very much. Ingrid could see that he was worried about her well-being. It was nice, Ingrid thought, to have someone to watch over you like that.
"And the Lady," Ingrid hedged, "Does she feel the same?"
Just Gendry breathed in deeply and swung his shoulders up into an awkward shrug. "I dunno." He said. "She's never said."
Ingrid frowned and hummed. "Maybe you should ask her?"
Just Gendry's face paled and he laughed weakly. "I'd have to be drunk to ask her that." He said.
"Are you not already?" Ingrid laughed, "I saw you drink many cups in the hall."
He grinned, "Nah, maybe I was a little, but talking to you has sobered me."
"Then perhaps now is the best time to ask." Ingrid prompted.
"True," Just Gendry said, thinking, "I dunno what I would have said if I were drunk." He laughed, "Probably ask her to marry me."
Ingrid did not laugh. "Do you want to?"
He looked back at her, the laugh gone from his face. "Absolutely. But she would never."
Ingrid tilted her head in confusion. "Because she does not care for you?"
Just Gendry shook his head, "She does, I dunno if it's the same as I do for her, but even if she did she wouldn't marry me." He grinned, his eyes drifted towards the side of Ingrid's face and she knew he was thinking of her again. "She's wild and adventurous. She could never stay in one place."
Ingrid grinned again, thinking of another woman warrior who was much the same. "Perhaps she never had a reason to."
Just Gendry smiled with his mouth and shrugged his shoulders in a self-deprecating way in response. Ingrid sensed that he was done with the conversation and silently bemoaned her bad luck: he never answered her original questions. But they had a nice conversation nevertheless.
"I am sorry to say that I have not seen her." She said kindly. Just Gendry looked at her once again and grinned crookedly. "That's alright." He said, angling his body, already moving out of the conversation. "I'll just have to find her myself."
"Goodbye Just Gendry." Ingrid placed a hand on his shoulder. "I hope you find your lady-love." He laughed at what she said, though Ingrid did not know what, and nodded in thanks. As he walked off, Ingrid saw his shoulders shake in laughter.
Aldvilde was brooding. If anyone asked she would say she was grieving, but honestly the time for grieving had past. Now she was angry, and sad, and lot of other things she did not want to acknowledge.
She was currently at the edge of the river, digging into the mud with a stick just to have something to do with her hands. She was tired of crying and yet, she did not feel like doing anything else. If Aldvilde were to be honest with herself, which she rarely was anymore, she would say she was lonely. She missed her mother, her father, even her little brother who had annoyed her so when he was still alive.
Death is not uncommon in their village. There are constant invaders hoping to gain more land or goods, but Alpta is strong. She only wished her family was stronger.
After the failed invasion, Aldvilde put everything she had into fighting. She vowed to herself that she would not fall like her parents and she would not be caught unaware like her brother. She would be the best and defeat her enemies. She would-
"Hello" A voice called, interrupting her musings. Aldvilde turned a watched as a blond girl around her age came closer to where she was sitting on the riverbank.
"Hi" She answered back gruffly.
The girl paused before coming closer. "My name is –"
"I know who you are." Aldvilde interrupted. She had seen Ingrid in the village. It was almost impossible not to know the others. Everyone knew each other; they interacted with each other everyday.
"Good. That saves me from having to introduce myself." Ingrid said, flicking her hair over her shoulder and sitting by Aldvilde.
Aldvilde sighed loudly. "Do you not have better things to do?"
Ingrid grinned. "No." She picked up a stick to start stabbing the mud as well. "I saw you sitting here and thought you might like some company."
Aldvilde scowled. "I do not; go away."
Ingrid turned and looked at Aldvilde's scowl. She narrowed her eyes, starting deeply before making a decision. "No," she said finally, "I do not think I will go away."
Aldvilde sighed again, annoyed at this girl who would not leave her to sulk.
"I do not want company. I do not wish to talk with you."
"Well, I would like to talk with you." Ingrid said, lilting her voice in amusement. Aldvilde did not want to be amusing; she wanted Ingrid to go away.
"Can you not see that I am busy?" She asked, exasperated.
"Are you?" Ingrid asked with a smile. "I thought you were sulking."
Aldvilde scowled again, turning away in fury. "I was not sulking."
"Oh, my mistake." Ingrid said, turning away as well. When Aldvilde snuck a glance she saw that Ingrid was still smiling and the sight made her furious.
"Stop smiling."
"Stop lying." Ingrid shot back. She stared into Aldvilde's eyes with a challenge. As much as Aldvilde hated Ingrid in this moment, she hated backing down from a challenge even more. She gritted her teeth.
"Fine," She spat. "I was sulking."
Ingrid's demeanor changed completely. "It is not weak to grieve for the dead. But you are also not doing yourself any favors sulking by the riverbank and avoiding everyone else. You need to live; have fun; enjoy yourself." Aldvilde scoffed. "Enjoy yourself," she said. Aldvilde did not want to enjoy herself, she did not want to have fun or see the others in the village; she did not want to do anything.
"I do not want to." She exclaimed, throwing her stick into the river. "I am miserable; let me be miserable!" She hated herself as she felt more tears well in her eyes and drip down her cheeks.
"That is stupid"
"What?" Aldvilde said, surprised by Ingrid's bluntness. "Do you usually tell people they are stupid?" She asked incredulously. Ingrid grinned and winked.
"When they are being stupid I do." Taken back by the bizarre turn of events, Aldvilde let lose a shocked laugh. Her eyes widened. She had forgotten what it felt like to laugh. Ingrid laughed in response.
"Come," she said. She got to her feet and held out a hand. "Let us go and be miserable somewhere else."
Aldvilde knew wherever they went she would not feel miserable. But she took Ingrid's hand anyway.
The air inside the hall was stifling, but after such a mournfully cold morning, Ingrid did not mind it. They had all gathered in the grand hall of Winterfell to celebrate the living. It was a celebration Ingrid was glad for, she had cried too long and Aldvilde always loved a good party. Ingrid left Bjornen at the table to refill her cup. Wine was a novelty; she had never tasted it before and it was much sweeter than anything she had tasted, even the honey mead from home. As she got closer to the high table, she heard Tormund try to convince the King to drink from his horn.
"No," The King protested, "Not in one go."
"Go on," egged on his sister, the Lady of Winterfell, "I believe in you." She was seated at the table with her own cup. Ingrid had not had the opportunity to talk with her, but she knew her name was Sansa Stark and she was the half-sister to the King.
"We have to celebrate our victory." Proclaimed Tormund. Ingrid had reached them and had to duck around the small group for the flask of wine.
"Vomiting is not celebrating." The King argued.
Tormund looked at the King, "Yes, it is." He disagreed, making the small group laugh. Ingrid grinned at Tormund's nature. He was kindhearted and had attempted to talk about Aldvilde with her when the wound was too fresh. Ingrid liked him; she could see why Aldvilde had been drawn to him.
Tormund shrugged off the King's refusal. "To the Dragon Queen!" He cried to the room, prompting a cheer and a toast.
Behind her, the Queen rose to her feet and toasted, "To Arya Stark, the hero of Winterfell." This prompted another round of robust cheering. Ingrid laughed and watched as Tormund gulped down his wine, much to the pleasure of the others. She was disrupted when the Lady of Winterfell strode past her, unbalancing her before Ingrid shifted her feet.
When Ingrid turned back around, the King had joined Tormund. The Queen sat in her chair at the high table, staring at the others in the room. Ingrid thought she looked lonely and figured now would be a good time to speak with the Queen. She was not sure what the protocol was, but she also did not particularly care.
"Your Grace?" Ingrid asked. "May I sit?" She gestured towards the empty seat that the King had vacated.
The Queen looked up at her appearance and nodded in acquiescence. "Why are you not with your friends?" She asked looking towards Bjornen, now in the middle of a drinking game with Tyrion and the knights Ingrid had spent last night with.
Ingrid shrugged nonchalantly and grinned. "I needed more wine. They are using it all in their game."
The Queen gave an indulgent smile and Ingrid could not help thinking that it was no wonder she was sitting alone. There was a moment of silence as Ingrid struggled to find something to say and the Queen watched the crowd.
Finally, blessedly, the Queen broke the silence. "You did not want to play?" She asked.
"No, I do not care much for drinking games. Besides," Ingrid turned to the Queen and smiled kindly. "You looked like you could use the company."
The Queen looked back, surprised. "You wanted to keep me company?"
"It is a party, yes?" Ingrid grinned, raising her cup. "No one should be sitting alone at a party."
The Queen smiled back in response and Ingrid thought that she should smile more often. She would have more friends if she did.
"So tell me," Ingrid said, settling into her chair and hoping she could pry a good conversation and maybe some answers out of the Queen. "What is Essos like? The people of Eurkos had never been before. I was surprised to hear of it. That is where you are from, yes?"
"Yes." The Queen said with a fond smile. "I've lived there my whole life, although I am originally from Westeros."
"Did you enjoy living there?"
"Sometimes." The Queen crinkled her eyes as she remembered.
Ingrid grew curious. "Tell me about it."
"Chief"
Ingrid turned to see Bjornen catching up to her. She waited for him to walk beside her as she made her way to the castle. Bjornen's presence was a comfort to her but she felt him tense when one of the other Chiefs walked by.
"What is it, Bjornen?"
"The Chiefs wonder when we will return home."
Ingrid stopped in her tracks and stared incredulously at Bjornen. "We burned our dead not ten minutes ago."
He sighed. "Yes." He ran a large hand over his hair, causing it to ruffle and flop onto his forehead. "But the Chiefs are anxious to return to a familiar place. They are homesick."
Ingrid closed her eyes. She could not blame the Chiefs for this. She missed Alpta with a deep ache in her chest. There was so much she did not understand in this unfamiliar place, and too much loss to accompany it. "I am as well." She replied.
"So why are we still here?" Ingrid knew Bjornen did not ask to be critical, but she felt annoyance and resentment bubble up inside her. How she wished Aldvilde were here. Leading was easier with Aldvilde by her side to make her laugh and give her strength.
"We are still here because half of our clansmen are dead and we have no supplies." Ingrid said in a clipped tone. "And if the other Chiefs do not understand that, you can send them to me." She glared at the castle standing in front of her and tried to blame her problems on it. She could not, she knew this; her mother would shake her head at Ingrid's foolishness if she could see her.
"Ingrid…" Bjornen said in a soft tone. As Ingrid turned to look at him, Bjornen placed a strong hand on her shoulder. Ingrid appreciated this; it grounded her like Aldvilde used to. At this thought, and the look in Bjornen's eyes, Ingrid felt the burning of tears in her eyes.
"Bjornen." She said pitifully. "I am so tired." She admitted. A tear slid down her cheek despite Ingrid's disapproval. She was tired of crying, tired of fighting, tired of Westeros and the people in it.
Bjornen pulled her closer and Ingrid's hand came up to grip the wrist of the arm holding her steady. "I am too, Ingrid." He angled his head so he could look into her eyes. "You are the Chief of Alpta." He said strongly, as if she needed reminding. "You still have clansmen who are looking to you. I know that you are tired, but you must continue on."
Ingrid closed her eyes, thankful that she had Bjornen to set her right. She nodded.
"I have not forgotten." She looked back at him and the movement caused more tears to fall. "I have not forgotten who we fight for. We came here to help our friend, but we also came to save our future. We have done that; after we resupply, we will go back to Eurkos."
Ingrid was not sure why she was at the council meeting. She had done her duty; she had aided her friend. Now it was time for rest and recuperation. Instead of this, Ingrid found herself in the midst of another council meeting. For what, Ingrid did not know. The number of things Ingrid did not know seemed to be growing by the second and this made Ingrid want to scream. She felt a pulling in her bones for Eurkosian shores. She felt a longing for her clan, and the fresh air rolling down from the mountains.
"Chief Ingrid?"
Ingrid jerked out of her trance to see the room staring at her. "Yes?" She asked, tried to shake off the remnants of her daydream.
"How many are left in your number?" Asked the Queen. Ingrid frowned.
"Half." She answered shortly. The others nodded and the King moved some pieces on their table. Ingrid wondered if it was typical for rulers here to play with models.
"The Golden Company has landed in Kings Landing, courtesy of the Greyjoy Fleet." Lord Varys said, nodded to Theon who was sitting, due to his injuries. "The balance has grown distressingly even."
Ingrid studied the table in front of her and tried to understand what was happening. Briefly she felt a flash of anger at Ser Davos for leaving her in the dark before realizing that perhaps he does not know that she is in the dark. Ingrid hoped so; her mother used to call her naïve that Ingrid would choose to see the best in others.
"Cersei will make sure they don't believe it." Said the Queen, in a hard voice, bringing Ingrid back to the present. "We will hit her hard; we'll rip her out root and steam."
Tyrion cut in, staring concerned at the Queen. "The objective here is to remove Cersei without destroying Kings Landing."
They were talking of the southern Queen, Ingrid realized. Does this Queen want to overthrow the Queen of Kings Landing, Ingrid questioned. She ran through her brief knowledge of Westeros that she gathered from Ser Davos' choppy lessons. Yes, Ingrid decided listening closely as Lord Varys listed allies of other houses, the Queen is planning to overtake the southern Queen.
"No matter how many Lords turn against her, as long as she sits on the Iron Throne she can call herself Queen of the Seven Kingdoms." Said the Queen. She turned to Tyrion. "We need the capital."
"I watched the people of Kings Landing rebel against their King when they were hungry, and that was before winter began." Tyrion reasoned. "Give them the opportunity and they will cast Cersei aside."
The King of the North set forward. "We'll surround the city. If the Iron Fleet tries to ferry in more food, the dragons will destroy them. If the Lannisters and the Golden Company attack, we'll defeat them in the field."
"Once the people see that Cersei is our only enemy, her reign is over."
Ingrid wanted to ask so many questions: Why are they fighting the Iron Fleet is the Greyjoys are allies? Which Lannisters does the King speak of if he is not referring to Ser Jaime and Tyrion? Who is the Golden Company? But Ingrid stayed silent. This was not her war; she would not get involved.
"Alright." The Queen acquiesces after a pause.
Ingrid's focus was dragged to the opposite side of the room when the Lady of Winterfell spoke. "The men we have left are exhausted. Many of them are wounded. They'll fight better if they have time to rest and recuperate." She reasoned to the Queen.
The Queen straightened her back and lifted her chin to stare at the Lady. "How long do you suggest?"
The Lady of Winterfell shifted on her feet with her hands behind her back. "Can't say for certain; not without talking to the officers." She answered blithely. Ingrid agreed with her assessment. Talking with her own fellow Chiefs, she felt she gained a better understanding of the supplies needed for the journey back to Eurkos, but their men were weak, wounded, and starving. They needed time before they could make the journey back. Departing now, with little supplies and weakened clansmen would result in more casualties. It would be foolish for a leader to make a decision without consulting her people. Ingrid's mother taught her this.
"I came north to fight alongside you at great cost to my armies and myself." The Queen said tightly. The shift in tone caused Ingrid look up sharply. The hair on the back of Ingrid's neck rose and she unconsciously shifted her feet as one does when preparing for a fight. "Now that the time has come to reciprocate, you want to postpone."
The Lady of Winterfell was not cowed by the Queen's language. "It's not just our people, it's yours. You want to throw them into a war they're not ready to fight?"
Once again, Ingrid found herself agreeing with the Lady. She wanted to speak up, but felt that it was not her place. This was their war, not hers.
"The longer I leave my enemies alone, the stronger they become." The Queen argued.
"The Northern forces will honor their promises and their allegiances to the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms." The King said, speaking to his sisters with a look of warning. Ingrid grew steadily more uncomfortable being in the room as she watched the standoff between the King and his sisters. For a moment she wondered if anyone would notice if she slipped out, but her musings were cut off by Tyrion's voice.
"…bulk of the remaining Dothraki, Unsullied, and Eurkos clansmen…-"
"-No."
"This Queen of yours has many titles." Ingrid said with a confused tone. Davos laughed.
"Yes," He agreed. "But she earned them." He moved to refill his cup of mead.
It was a pleasant day in Alpta and Davos was taking a rare opportunity to educate Ingrid in the ways of Westeros.
"She liberated many people. Everyone is Essos either loves her or hates her."
Ingrid looked at him so directly that Davos shifted underneath her stare. "She made many enemies in her liberations?"
Davos nodded. "I suppose." Ingrid shook her head. She reached around him for some bread and tore into it.
"Why are you shaking your head?" Davos asked confused.
She shrugged. "I do not understand why the people need to be liberated, but I can imagine that others would not be happy about it." She took another bite of bread. "Eurkos does not have slaves, as you call them. We have the alive and dead. We do not keep prisoners."
Davos blinked, shocked. "What do you do with surviving invaders?"
Ingrid shrugged again, preoccupied with her search for ale. "Send them back. They return home ashamed and that is enough for us. Besides, children never come on invasions so there is no need to keep any of them."
Davos thought this way of life was bizarre. "What if the invaders win? What do you do with survivors then?"
Ingrid looked at him with a raised brow. "Then everyone has either died or left anyways." She returned to her ale. "Like I said, we keep no prisoners."
She moved to wipe her hands on her leggings. "Your Queen must either be very kindhearted or very cruel to do what she does."
Davos didn't have anything to say to that.
"So, if all are in agreement, Jon and Ser Davos will ride down the Kings Road with the Northern troops and the bulk of the remaining Dothraki, Unsullied, and Eurkos clansmen. A smaller group-"
"-No." All movement in the room stopped. Ingrid felt herself speak without realizing that it was her speaking. Her mind caught up with her body and replayed the moment. She did not understand: she thought these people were her allies, some were her friends - how could she have missed this?
Tyrion tilted his head in the way he does when confused. "I'm sorry?"
Ingrid felt emboldened by his confusion and kept her tone firm. "No. The clansmen will not accompany you to Kings Landing."
All occupants turned to look at the Queen. Her muscles were tightly bound and her nostrils flared in anger, yet she kept her tone somewhat light. "I do not understand." She admitted. "I thought you were my allies."
Ingrid nodded unperturbed by the Queen's reaction. "We are your allies. We are not your subjects."
There was a thickness to the air in the room that Ingrid ignored. She could hear her blood pumping in her ears. How foolish she had been to trust these Westerosi. They were not all like Ser Davos. Ser Davos was kind and helpful and deserving of her aid. Although, recently he had let her down as he was standing silently beside her.
The Queen blinked before stating, "I was under the impression that the clansmen were here to help us win the war."
Ingrid nodded. "We agreed to help fight against the dead. We never agreed to fight any other wars. This is your fight, not ours."
"So now that the dead are defeated you plan to desert your friends."
"Now that the dead are defeated I plan to lead my people." Ingrid replied sharply. "We too came here at great cost. We came because our friend called for help and we honor and value that friendship." Ingrid spoke pointedly at the Queen, who stood in fury. "Now, that aid has been given and it is time for us to return home to our families."
"Surely," Tyrion cut in, casting a helpless and worried look in the Queen's direction before pleading to her, "You can spare more time to help us win against Cersei? Once Cersei finds out there is land west of Westeros, she will seek to conquer it as well."
Ingrid shrugged. "Let her. We'll give her a proper welcome." She grinned wolfishly. The Eurkos people fought off invading armies from the west, why should invading armies from the east be any different.
Tyrion looked even more worried at her response. "Cersei is a fierce adversary." He warned. "She will not be defeated easily."
Ingrid remained unaffected. "Is that not what you are planning to accomplish?" She asked, gesturing to the table. "Or are your models only for play?"
"You will help us defeat Cersei." Stated the Queen, making it clear there was no room for disagreement. "You stood in front of me and said we would fight together. You told me to tell you where to fight and you would obey. Now I am telling you where to fight. Are you going back on your word?"
Ingrid felt rage seep into her blood, curling up her muscles and making them clench. Her body felt hot as she narrowed her eyes at the Queen. It was difficult to believe that a few hours ago, they were sitting at the high table having a pleasant conversation about Essos.
"I vowed to aid in the fight at Winterfell." Ingrid darkly spat. "I led my fellow clansmen to a fight against dead men. If there are more dead walking around Kings Landing, then I will gladly aid you in destroying them. But as far as I can tell, you plan to usurp a southern Queen. And as I said before: that is not my fight."
"I am Daenerys Targaryen, the true Queen to the Iron Throne, the true Queen of the Seven Kingdoms." The Queen said, raising her voice in anger. "And if you are not my ally, then you are my enemy."
Abruptly, Tyrion and Lord Varys started to whisper at the Queen, who seemed unaffected by their frantic tones. The King stepped forward in shock. Ser Davos clutched Ingrid's arm either to stop her from moving or to convince himself she was still there, Ingrid did not know.
"You are the Queen to be sure." Ingrid said in a flat voice. "You are the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms," she shrugged. "But you are not my Queen."
Ingrid jerked her arm out of Davos' hand and stepped towards the Targaryen. "You have forgotten, your Grace." Ingrid mocked. "I am not off the Seven Kingdoms. I am not of Westeros. And I am not yours to order where or when to fight."
Ingrid felt her confidence return. She felt like a Chief again. The solidity that disappeared when the dead came, when Aldvilde died, whenever Ingrid felt alone or confused or ignorant, came rushing back. She stood tall and steady on her feet.
"I am Chief Ingrid of Alpta in Eurkos. I have clansmen who are looking to me to lead them and make decisions more their betterment, not to lead them into another war they are not willing nor ready to fight."
She made a sweeping gesture to the table. "You can play war with your models and lead your men into a massacre and become the Queen of ashes for all I care. My men will rest in Winterfell, and when they are ready to leave, we will be going home."
"You have a strong enemy to the south that sits on fertile land. Your land is rotten and unfit for crops. Your people are weak because they have little food. What do you do?" Ingrid's mother asked as if she were telling someone the weather. Ingrid bit her lip in concentration. Her mother was kind, but she did not accept foolish children.
"I send word to the other clans?" Ingrid asked unsure, her voice rising in pitch.
Her mother nodded without a smile. "That is a good start. What else?"
Ingrid sighed, her little shoulders moving with her breaths. "I could move the clan closer to the beach? For fishing?"
Her mother nodded again. "Yes, that is a very good proposal." Ingrid grinned. "But what else should you do?"
Ingrid's brow furrowed. "Remember Ingrid," Her mother said, hinting her, "A Chief is nothing without her people."
Ingrid's face brightened. "Oh!" She cried. "I should have consulted with my close advisors and clansmen first!"
Her mother finally smiled. "Yes!" Then she gave Ingrid another sharp look. "And they would have presented ideas for you, some that you may not have thought of yourself. But what if they present the idea to invade the southern clan?"
Ingrid's eyes widened with dismay. Invade the southern clan? But Mother said they were weak with hunger! "We cannot!" Ingrid cried. "We are not strong enough! We must gain strength before we can take on another clan!"
Her mother nodded, pleased with her assessment. "And if the southern clan decides to invade you?"
Ingrid gave a disgusted look to the south, as if looking at the clan in question. "That would be very stupid." She criticized. "We have nothing they want. It would be pointless to invade a clan with no land, no food, and weak people."
Her mother laughed, "Yes, it would be. But, nonetheless, how would you respond?"
Ingrid rolled her eyes. "We would set traps, or run. The land is nothing to us, if we were forced, we should leave anyway."
Her mother gave her a look that said she was not entirely pleased with her answer, but was also not going to push for a better one. "Very well, then. Let us hope you do not lead your future clan into ruin." She said smartly. Ingrid grinned at her dryness. Mother rolled her eyes and dragged Ingrid onto her lap, laughing.
"Remember Ingrid," Her mother said with seriousness, looking into Ingrid's eyes. "A good Chief will always take the good of the clan into consideration when making decisions. A Chief is nothing without her people."
Ingrid nodded at her mother, driving this lesson into her memory. She would not forget.
Bjornen was not sure what went on in the council meeting. The tension going in to the meeting was high, but it did not compare to the tensions coming out of the meeting.
Ingrid had stormed out first, her body coiled for a fight, face stone, eyes burning, Bjornen was glad to have missed the meeting.
"Bjornen!" She barked as she came closer. She jerked her head and bid him to follow. Bjornen quickly turned to Ser Davos, who had followed her out. He looked resigned and nodded to Bjornen, who took no comfort in this gesture.
"Chief!" He answered, turning to follow. He waited until he was closer before calling to her quietly. "Ingrid, what is the matter?"
"That woman." She growled, "That woman thinks she can command me?" Bjornen's mind raced to catch up. Ingrid kept her quick pace as she reached the outside gates of Winterfell. She gazed at the clansmen camping. Bjornen watched as her eyes flitted from one camp to the next, taking stock of the people. A few of the other Chiefs noticed Ingrid's agitated state and rose to help, but Bjornen waved them away. He would find out what caused this.
"Who, Ingrid?"
"The Dragon Queen." Ingrid spat, her eyes narrowing as they continued to scope the grounds. Bjornen felt his muscles tense.
"The Queen tried to command you?" He asked incredulously.
Ingrid bitterly laughed. "She wants the people of Eurkos to fight for her throne of Iron." She explained.
Bjornen looked at the clansmen. Some were talking, but most were too injured and exhausted to stay awake. "When would they leave?"
Ingrid turned to see his face. He met her eyes with a thoughtful frown.
"The Queen wants to leave soon. She fought with the Lady of Winterfell about postponing due to recuperation."
Bjornen hummed distastefully. His lips pursed as he thought of the Eurkosians moving so soon. The people of Alpta, and most of their allied clans, were ready when a battle appeared, but they did not go looking for battles. It was not their way.
"When will the men be ready to move?" Ingrid asked quietly.
"According to the other Chiefs?" Bjornen posed a rhetorical question. "One week."
Ingrid nodded. She turned away from the clans to face Bjornen fully. "If we are forced to fight…"
"We will fight." Bjornen assured her. Ingrid gave him a heavy look and Bjornen felt the need to take a deep breath. "If you give the command Chief, we will follow."
Ingrid copied his movements and turned back to gaze at the clansmen.
"Good."
AN: Thanks for reading. I hope everyone enjoyed this chapter! From this point on most of the story will be AU, so we'll see how that goes.
Please review! I'd love to hear any thoughts or ideas you have on the story!
Also, I'm not sure how quickly I can get these chapters out. I started a summer class and I'm spending all of my time reading for the class instead of writing (eek), so pray for me.