Getting the bodies of the now deceased Whitehill soldiers out of the great hall went quickly enough. Most of them could be dragged off rather easily but the ones that had been consumed by the fire from the hearth were tougher to move. The fire had not only fused their skin to the armor that they wore but had also severely weakened their bones. Making tearing off a piece of armor or a limb from wherever Lyra grabbed rather easy. But still, she persisted in getting the bodies out of sight. Dragging them, one by one out of Ironrath and towards the front gate. Tiring work for someone alone but luckily Gared, and Duncan came to assist. Both of them still too stunned by what they had witnessed to offer any meaningful conversation but Lyra was appreciative of the help all the same.

As Gared brought the last body and tossed it onto the pile. Lyra looked over to Duncan who had been staring at her for a good long while. "I told you I'd handle it."

Duncan snapped out of his trance. "I suppose you did," He grimaced at the pile of dead soldiers as Gared moved back over to them. "Was that magic? What you did to them?"

"The fire, yes." Her talk with Elyssa had reminded her that what she had done was not very common in these parts so she figured she'd have to get used to explaining herself. "Where I'm from, magic is more prevalent than it is here. And when it is called upon in battle, it takes many different forms."

Duncan could barely bring himself to nod at the information but Gared seemed to grasp it rather quickly. "What about those sounds you made?" He asked. "Were those words from another language?"

Lyra nodded to the young squire. "A different type of magic. Would you care for another example?"

Gared nodded while Duncan's silence spoke for him. Lyra looked back over to the pile and spoke. "YOL"

A stream of fire materialized into being right in front of three and swept over the pile of bodies. Setting them ablaze as if they were coated in flammable oils.

"That is the power of dragons," Lyra told the two before bowing her head. She mumbled a small string of strange words together that, to Gared's ear, almost sounded like a prayer before straightening back up. She looked out to the setting sun and realized just how late in the day it was. "If it's all the same to you, I think I'm going to get some rest. I doubt tomorrow will be any less peaceful than today."

She walked away from the pair after that, right back into Ironrath and the room where she had put on her new clothes. With the door closed behind her, she let out a deep sigh and rubbed her eyes in annoyance. "Gods damn it." She said aloud. "Just once, it would be nice if someone took the warning." She looked down at her clothes, she'd been lucky not to get a noticeable amount of blood on them so she didn't need to change. She walked back over to her table and picked back up the book she'd been reading, simply titled The North.

The next few hours came and went for Lyra, the only thing taking her out of her reading was the shifting sunlight bathing her room and the surrounding Ironrath in shades of orange as it set over the horizon. The rest of Ironrath, or the lords and ladies to be more specific, were more focused on the pyre of bodies that still burned well into the night. And while the Forresters took stock of what they had seen and the prisoner they now kept in their dungeon, Gared found himself tending to Tuttle family pigs trying desperately to think about anything else.

"Seven hells," He coughed as he shoveled what used to be pig feed out the newly makeshift pig pen.

"Spent too long with the army I see," Cedric chuckled. "The Gared I raised wouldn't pay no mind to pig shit."

"I guess I am a bit out of practice," Gared replied. Another cough caught his and his father's attention. "What's your excuse, uncle?"

Duncan shoveled another load out of the pen and chuckled. "Laugh it up, Gared."

Gared did indeed laugh it up, as did Cedric. The three Tuttles back to doing what Tuttles do best. "It's good to be..." Gared wanted to say back home, but he wasn't. "...with you and Jenna again." He looked around to see his younger sister but she was nowhere to be found. "Where is she anyway?"

"She'd been helping me since we got here, and since we hopefully won't be here for long, I let her roam around, take in the view," Cedric told his son. Not a moment later Gared caught sight of his sister running around with Ryon and Talia. Probably one of the few times she had other children to play with. "That's nice of you, father,"

"See, that can't be Cedric." Duncan chimed in. "He'd never let Jenna go off and have fun."

Cedric shrugged at his brother's words. "Jenna's a bright girl. And though I'd prefer if she stayed on the farm and took over for me, something tells me she'll grow out of it as you two did."

Gared went quiet at his words but Duncan seemed to take issue with them. "Some of us just aren't meant for this life, Ced," Duncan told him. "And if Gared hadn't been with lords Gregor and Rodrik, he'd never have brought back the Forrester sword. He's done a great service to this house."

Gared was thankful for the compliment but didn't really believe he deserved it. All he did was run from a massacre and back to his home. If anything Lyra had done a far bigger service to house Forrester than he had. "About Lyra," He looked to his uncle Duncan whose face had shifted into a frown. "Uncle, have you seen anyone move as she did? The fire, the fighting, the speed," He was almost stunned into silence as he thought back to the incident earlier and the fourteen men who now blazed just outside the walls.

"I can't say I have, Gared." Ducan told his nephew. "She's much more than meets the eye."

"She's powerful, I'll give you that but I think she's all right," Cedric told the pair. "Helped me out with the pigs."

"Tywin Lannister could help you out with the pigs and you'd say he's all right." Duncan scolded his brother. "Just because they help you, doesn't mean they should be trusted."

To that, Cedric's only response was, "If we can't trust someone who helps us, who can we trust?"

Neither Gared nor Duncan had an answer for him.

Lyra hadn't been expecting another knock at her door until the next morning. She figured the Forresters would spend the rest of the night either debating on what they had just seen happen or attempting to plan for the eventual consequences of what they had seen happen. Nevertheless, a knock at her door did occur. Only this time when she said "Come in", the lord Forrester was the one who came into view rather than his uncle. "You're up late,"

"Well, I had a busy day." Ethan smiled and sat himself down across the table from her. "We got lord Whitehill into his new room and hopefully the men who were with him were the only ones who know he's was here. Everyone who saw what you did, or can do, has decided they're going to keep that to themselves."

"Nice of you, but you don't have to keep it a secret," Lyra said. "Word's going to get out eventually."

"It's already done," Ethan replied, sounding far too tired. " No sense in gathering everyone back again." He scratched his head leaned back into his chair. He went quiet for a good while, seemingly enjoying the crackling of Lyra's fire to much to speak over it.

"Why did you want him spared?" Lyra asked.

Ethan looked back to her with a raised eyebrow. "Lord Whitehill?"

Lyra nodded. "If he's going to cause you problems in the future, you should've just let me kill him. You wanted him alive."

Ethan looked at the fire before nodding. "I did."

"Any particular reason?" Lyra asked.

"I wanted to take stock what killing him would mean for us," Ethan told her, sounding more emotionless than he usually did. "I didn't have enough time to do it in the throne room once you started killing his men."

His tone wasn't ungrateful but Lyra felt annoyed with it all the same. "Would you have preferred I did nothing?" Lyra asked, crossing her arms. "Let him walk all over you and your family?"

Ethan slammed his fist onto the table. "I don't know! Maybe?!" Lyra seemed too surprised by the outburst to respond in time so Ethan continued. "Maybe that was all just talk meant to scare us! Maybe he was serious about wanting compensation and maybe I should've given it to him! Or maybe you're right and you should've killed him. I don't know because I couldn't think." His voice began to fall but his frustration stayed his hand fell back to his side. "He just kept shouting, you kept taunting him, and...I couldn't think."

The disappointment in his lingered in the room like the smell of a rotting corpse. And when the young lord didn't continue, Lyra took it as a sign to speak. "You should know that's a normal feeling for a leader. Wondering if you made the right decision."

"Father or Rodrik wouldn't have wondered," Ethan replied, thinking the comparison spoke for itself. "They would've known exactly what to do in that situation."

"You don't know that."

"Yes, I do," Ethan replied. He crossed his arms and lowered his head. "I try to be like them. I really try, but I'm not."

Lyra knew she was in an awkward position. The young lord of a family had all but revealed to her the insecurity of his new position. And she had a hunch that whatever she said next would stay with him for a good long while. With that in mind, she spoke. "You know what the three most powerful words in history are?"

"What?"

"The three most powerful words in history," Lyra repeated. "Do you know what they are?"

"I don't think so."

"Many don't," Lyra smirked. "Ofaal avok nii"

"What does that mean?"

"Get over it," Lyra explained. "Ethan, bad things are going to happen to you all the time. Sometimes they come to you, other times you stumble onto them. You might make a wrong decision that comes back to bite you in the ass or divines forbid, get someone you love killed. And there's no shame in thinking on your decisions every now and then. But once the decision is made, whether right or wrong, you can either curl up into a ball and sulk about it or..."

"Get over it." Ethan finished for her.

Lyra nodded. "Always keep an eye focused on what's on the horizon, and make sure you have the will to get yourself and those you love to that horizon. Even if you have to go through some terrible stuff along the way."

Ethan nodded but to make sure he actually understood her, Lyra pressed on. "So, what should've been done with lord Whitehill?" She asked.

Ethan was quiet for a moment before replying. "It doesn't matter now," He looked back to Lyra with a newfound determination in his eyes. "What's done is done, and all we can do now is look to the future."

Lyra's respect for the young lord grew yet again. "All right Ethan," She smiled and leaned closer to the young lord. "What plan are you hatching?"

"I'll be discussing the details of it tomorrow with my council, and I'd like you to be there," Ethan replied, dimming Lyra's excitement. "But I want to ask you what you thought of fighting with us."

"Did you really need to ask me that?" Lyra laughed.

Ethan was caught off guard by the question. "This whole mess really doesn't involve you, no one would judge you for leaving." He told her before she silenced him with a raised hand.

She looked at him like he had forgotten their conversation in the great hall. "I told you, you're my friend. And I stick by my friends, no matter what mess they fall into."

Ethan nodded and for a second, almost forgot he was talking to someone who wasn't a north-woman. His chuckle caught Lyra's attention.

"Something funny?" She asked.

"Sorry, I had to remind myself that you're not from the North." He said. "You act like someone who is."

Lyra tilted her head as she thought. "Skyrim was the northernmost province back in Tamriel, so maybe that's it."

A childlike curiosity reappeared in Ethan's eyes as she finished her words. "Tamriel?" He asked. "That's your home continent?"

"Yep." She nodded and leaned back in her chair. "Skyrim's a cold home but if you're clever and tough, there's none better. Certainly better than likes of Morrowind or Black Marsh."

The words confused Ethan. "Those are other provinces?"

"Yep." Lyra nodded. "Ancestral homes to the Dunmer and Argonians."

Ethan's curiosity grew with the words. "What are those?"

"The Dunmer are Dark Elves and Argonians are...well Argonians." Lyra laughed, deciding that the actual description for the reptilian people would get nothing but laughter from the young lord. "You'd really need to see them for yourself."

"Elves?" Ethan chuckled. He must've liked the name. "What are they?"

"Well, that depends on which elf race you mean?" Lyra told him, rubbing her head. He could get back to being serious and planning ahead tomorrow. For now, she decided to let him be an inquisitive boy. "You got the Dark Elves, High Elves, Wood Elves. Or the Dunmer, Altmer, and Bosmer, if you like."

"Race?"

"I guess it's the type of person we are," Lyra replied, tapping her chest. "Me, I'm a Nord of Skyrim."

The pair continued their talk for a while. Lyra giving a bit of information here and there about the people she shared her continent with as well as the adventures she went on. Bandits, assassins, thieves, she had run-ins with them all and every encounter made for an excellent story to the young lord. Eventually, he decided that he'd heard enough for one night and left her room after a thankful nod. Once he was gone, she leaned over to her pack. It was time to take stock of her equipment.

She combed through her belongings and pulled out several rolled up scrolls each with words etched on to the outermost roll. IRON, STEEL, GLASS, LEATHER, WOLF, DWEMER, POTIONS, MISC, she sorted each of them and more out onto her table. Stopping once when she eyed one that had the word DAEDRA written on it. "I wonder what you guys would think of Westeros. Probably just another breeding ground for you to make Talos' knows how many messes. But still, I wonder."

The next morning, Lyra gathered with the rest of the Forrester Council to discuss what was to come with the patriarch of House Whitehill safely stored in their dungeon.

"All right," She looked back to Duncan. "When can we expect some retaliation?"

The castellan nodded and spoke. "Gryff will not realize his father is missing for some time, and even after that, it will take some time to gather his own forces to attack us. A few weeks to a month, maybe." He pointed down at the map and area around Ironrath. "When he does though, he'll come down hard."

"What are the odds he brings the Boltons with him?" Lyra asked.

"Unlikely." Ser Royland said."Their army is just now coming back north from the Twins. But lord Roose may send his bastard Ramsay if Gryff requests his aid."

Lyra nodded and continued. "How many men?"

"I can't be sure." Royland shook his head. "Gryff is more unpredictable than Ludd. But let's assume he brings everyone he can and we deal with about a hundred men."

Maybe I can head him off. Lyra thought to herself. "Where is the Whitehill home?"

Duncan's finger glided over the map away from the Wolfswood and to an area seemingly lacking any trees. "It's a castle called Highpoint. You plan on going there?"

Lyra tilted her head. "It's an option. I tell him you have his father hostage, and if he wants to see him again, he needs to put the past behind and actually ally with you."

The word ally seemed to catch the rest of the room by surprise and a small silence enveloped the room. "Ally," Lyra repeated, surprised by their own hesitation. "What were you expecting me to suggest? We kill every Whitehill in existence?"

It was meant to be a joke but the silence that followed proved that had been thinking about that very idea.

"It's not unheard of," Elyssa admitted, surprising Lyra with how dark the woman's mind went.

Lyra bit her tongue. She knew the option was there but she had hoped no one here would bring it up. "Well, I'm not going to do that. So alliance it is."

"How?" Ethan asked, clasping his hands together.

She looked at him and the rest of the group like it was simple. "What's wrong with signing a piece of parchment?" Lyra asked. "A promise to bury the past and stand by one another?"

The room was silent again before the Maester let out a chuckle."That might work where you are from, but here alliances usually need a physical side to things." Ortengryn explained. "A marriage, ideally."

A marriage between feuding families. That was going to be a hard nut to crack. "Okay," Lyra put a hand under her chin as she thought of an answer. "Are there any Forresters around Gryff's age that would be ok with that?"

"The closest would be Talia." Ortengryn pointed out.

"That's not happening," Ethan spoke again, surprising Lyra with how stern his reply was. But after she thought about it, it made sense. Talia and he were twins and she was probably the closest to him along with Ryon. With her out of the selection, Lyra's thoughts drifted back to a name Elyssa had mentioned yesterday. "What about Asher?"

The room went quiet again though this time in shock. Lyra looked back to Elyssa."You told me he was banished for having an affair with a Whitehill girl. Let's get him back here and marry her. If they still like each other, anyway."

Lyra noticed Royland and Duncan slowly nod. It wasn't a nice idea but it was one they could live with. "But Asher's all the way in Essos." Duncan reminded the room. "You'd need to send someone to find him."

"I discussed it with Malcolm," Elyssa explained. She looked up to the throne where her son sat. "If you think we should, he'll head to Essos immediately."

Ethan closed his eyes for a moment before nodding. "He has my permission. Let's bring Asher home." Elyssa nodded and left the room quickly.

Ser Royland nodded as well and refocused on the current problem. "But even if we find Asher and the Whitehill girl agrees to the marriage, that still leaves Gryff and the Boltons."

Lyra thought back to the group of Whitehill soldiers she had fought yesterday and how poorly skilled they seemed. "I can probably deal with the rest of the Whitehills myself if it comes to that, but these Boltons are still a mystery to me." She looked to Forrester master at arms. "Where are they?"

"Their family home is the Dreadfort," Ser Royland pointed at the not so pleasantly named home on the map before dragging it across the landscape of the North. "but they took up residence at Winterfell after Robb Stark and his brothers were killed." He tapped the castle known as Winterfell twice to make sure she understood where it was."

"Okay." Lyra nodded. " And my guess is the Boltons won't take kindly to a family whose supposed to be serving them, betray them and take the leader of a loyal house hostage."

"The flayed man isn't their sigil because they're a forgiving sort." Ser Royland pointed out.

Lyra looked at him, horrified. "Their family sigil is a man being flayed?"

"Aye." Ser Royland frowned as he thought of the recently appointed Warden of the North. "Roose Bolton is a cruel man but he's clever. And where his bastard Ramsay lacks in the latter, he makes up in the former."

Lyra blinked as she pictured what two men might've looked like. "Sound like a pair of cunts." She said, earning a chuckle from Ethan.

"They are indeed." Duncan nodded. "But they control the North. And would likely never have less than two or three thousand men at Winterfell."

If Lyra seemed bothered by the number, she didn't outwardly show it. "Is the three thousand men just Boltons?" She asked.

"Yes," Ethan answered. "But as Wardens, they can call on other houses to join them. The Manderlys, the Karstarks, the Umbers, the Glovers, they all have to submit to them now. As well as all the houses that serve under them."

Lyra figured she might as well assume the worst, as it usually always happened and asked. "And with all of them together?"

Ethan went silent due to what Lyra theorized as silent calculation. "Fifteen to twenty thousand men seems like the right number." He replied looking over to his Maester who gave nod confirming it. "They'd be weakened from fighting in the south but the number shouldn't be that far off."

The young lord's words caused Lyra to frown. Twenty thousand was a more troublesome number for her, but that was only possible if the Boltons could gather the other houses to them to stop her. She would need to act fast if they were going to avoid a monumental bloodbath.

"The Boltons betrayed the Starks, right? So odds are they don't have the complete loyalty of all the major houses just yet." Lyra looked to Ortengryn. "Does house Forrester have allies it can call upon?"

Ortengryn's eyes perked up in realization. "There are the Glenmores."

"Glenmores?" Lyra asked.

"Yes, Lady Elaena was to marry lord Rodrik before the war began. With him gone, there would need to be a new match for the alliance to be sealed."

"What if I marry her?" Everyone in the room looked up to the throne that Ethan sat on. His hands were clasped together and his eyes were focused on the map between the group.

Ortengryn nodded. "That would certainly work, my lord."

"Are you joking right now?" Lyra asked the Maester. "Cause I'm not laughing."

"It is certainly, possible," Duncan spoke up, earning a wide-eyed glare from Lyra.

"Can you stop being okay with this!" Lyra switched her glare from Duncan to Ethan. "And you don't need to throw out any ideas, like that. This is serious."

"So am I," Ethan replied. "I'm keeping an eye on the horizon." He got up from his throne and started down the steps to the rest of the group. "If lady Elaena will have me, I will marry her."

"Ethan," Lyra barely held back a nervous chuckle. "You're too young to even think about that."

"Tell me another way we can get house Glenmore to stand with us," Ethan replied, more to the rest of the room than to Lyra. When no answer came, he let out a worried sigh. "I didn't think so." He clenched his fists on the map and closed his eyes. "I know Elaena would've preferred Rodrik and I wish he was here instead of me." When his eyes reopened, the same determination Lyra had seen in them the night before was burning again. "But he's not, and I need to get over it."

Lyra wanted to slap the kid. It was more than a little annoying hearing him repeat her words back to her in a way that justified his reasoning. But she held her tongue. They still had time to figure out another way to end this mess, hopefully without child-marriage. It would still take time for Gryff to figure out what happened to his father, a few weeks or a month if they were lucky. But she also conceded that he had a point. They really needed to look to the future to make sure they were really safe. With that in mind, Lyra looked back at the Winterfell sigil on the map. "If you manage to ally with the Glenmores and make peace with Whitehills, how do we know the Boltons will leave you alone?"

"We don't." Ser Royland told her. "We're certainly not a threat to them but Roose might send his bastard over here just to alleviate his boredom. Why do you ask?"

Lyra's gaze stayed on Winterfell. "I was thinking about paying them a visit. See if they're as bad as I hear. But," Her eyes started to drift down the map, southward, out of the North and passed the Riverlands and Stormlands "Elyssa seemed worried about Mira in Kings-Landing."

Duncan nodded. "Aye, she's a handmaiden to the soon to be queen Margaery Tyrell. You'd think it would be a safe place but..."

"But Kings-Landing is a rat's nest." Ser Royland finished, practically spitting the sentence out. "Tywin Lannister is the power down there as is his family. He's the Hand of the King, his daughter's the queen mother, his grandson is the king and his two sons..." Ser Royland paused for a moment to find his words. "His oldest son is a Kingsguard. Probably back in the city by now. "

"Lannisters," Lyra repeated the word aloud and tapped the capital city on the map. It certainly sounded like they were the ones in power. "What about the other son?" She asked. "You said he had two."

"The imp?" Ethan chuckled. "That would be Tyrion Lannister."

Lyra raised an eyebrow. "Why's he called the Imp?"

"Well, he's a dwarf." Duncan chuckled.

Everything in Lyra's mind came to a screeching halt. Her thoughts on going to Winterfell and seeing the Boltons, Her frustration at Ethan throwing his young life away for an alliance, her empty stomach that hadn't yet been filled with breakfast. All of it, frozen as if caught in a blizzard. "He's what?" She asked back to the pair, deadly serious. Duncan and Royland looked at each other and back to her and nodded. Confirming what she had heard to be true. She looked back up to Ethan and spoke, "I think I need to go to Kings-Landing."

A/N: So, I decided to scrap the Gared goes to the Night's Watch and the North Grove quest from the game. It really didn't lead to anything, and all it did was leave more questions than answers for those of us that played it. A welcomed change I think but if you were looking forward to that, I'm sorry. Anyway, I hope I did a decent enough job with this one. I was hoping to give Ethan a little more personality this time around but we'll see how well it turned out.

Until we meet again, gods guide you.