She was not in the Red Keep, that was for sure. She was in another fortress. This one was gilded with gold from wall to wall. She had not been there before. She whimpered as she made a wrong turn, and whimpered again when she bumped onto a low table. Her head had hurt momentarily. It was this strange, new place. If she was there for longer, she wouldn't have bumped into things again.

The great hall glittered and glimmered in the afternoon sun. It was a thousand times more beautiful than Winterfell could ever be. But... there was no soul in that beauty. Then, she found a familiar human. A female with dark hair and dark eyes, dressed in a very revealing gown the color of mustard.

"What are you doing here?" the woman asked her. "Come, let's get you to your master."

Her... master? She had no master. She was not a slave. But, the woman handed her a handful of dried jerky as a treat, so she couldn't refuse her. So, she followed the woman and they went up three flights of stairs together. She rather liked the woman. She would scratch her between her ears and she always liked it when people scratched her there.

"Lady Catelyn, Your Grace," the woman called, knocking at the door. "I have a message from my father."

"Oh, come in, Lady Nym."

She... she was looking at her mother. "Mother!" she called, but Catelyn did not heed her. All she got was a warm pat on her head. "Mother!" she called again but there was no response.

Then, she saw Robb. He wasn't wearing any armor, but a thin shirt and breeches. There was a hoe in his hands while his sword was on a table. "Robb!" she called towards him, but still, Robb only scratched her between her ears and paid no heed to her after.

"Why isn't anyone listening to me?" she demanded.

"What does your father say, Lady Nym?" Robb asked the woman.

"He's found your sister, Princess Sansa," she reported.

It made no sense. She was right there with them! "It's me! I'm Sansa!" she exclaimed, only to be distracted by yet another strange face. This other female had large brown eyes, a slightly dark complexion and beautiful long, dark hair.

"Shh, little one," she cooed at her. "Robb is having some news brought to him."

"Did the Lannisters suspect anything?" Robb asked the female named Lady Nym.

"No, they did not. They want them wedded in a week."

"Thank you, Lady Nym, it would be all."

She didn't understand. Why isn't anyone paying attention to her? She'd just come back to her family!

"Sansa!" she heard other voices call her though.

"Sansa!" the voices started getting louder.

"SANSA!"


Oberyn and Ellaria both heaved sighs of relief when Sansa finally stirred. She had collapsed after much crying, and when they laid her onto the nearest chaise so she could rest, Ellaria discovered that something was wrong. Her eyes were wide open, but they were so white that they looked like the clouds of summer were contained in them. They tried calling to her, but she seemed to be unresponsive. They had never seen anything like it before, and Ellaria was sure that Oberyn would have rushed out of their chambers to get a Maester to help.

Luckily, the blue of her eyes returned and she woke as quickly as she had fallen into that strange, trance-like state. "You scared us all, my love," Ellaria said, embracing her, knowing that her experience must have been as shocking to her as it was for them.

"I... I saw my mother and brother," she stammered in confusion. "I saw this woman they called 'Lady Nym' and Robb's Queen, but no one cared about me. They only scratched my ears and pet me..." Her jaw fell slack upon the realization of what she had just done. "No... it's impossible..."

Ellaria guessed that Oberyn might have some knowledge about what was happening to Sansa. "You warged into your brother's direwolf," Oberyn revealed. "My, my, aren't you an intriguing little one. The Maesters at Oldtown thought that skinchangers are extinct since the Andals drove the Children of the Forest into extinction."

"It can't be true," Sansa exclaimed. "No one's ever been able to for thousands and thousands of years!"

"But yet here you are, Sansa. You saw your family and my daughter Nymeria at Casterly Rock through the eyes of Grey Wind," Oberyn explained. "If I am not mistaken your family still has the blood of the First Men in you. After all, Winterfell was never conquered until only recently..."

"No one else can know of this," Sansa pleaded to them both. "Please..." If one day either Cersei or Joffrey would have passed by her while she was warging, who was to say that they would not put a sword through her and be done with it?

"Your secret is safe with us," Ellaria soothed. "We won't tell anyone else. We promise."

"Come, Sansa, I will bring you back to your chambers," Oberyn offered, giving her his arm. "Tomorrow, we should discuss on a change of your surroundings in this blasted Red Keep." He had no desire to see Sansa at the hands of her captors, trapped by unseen walls and spikes. He would see her free. Sansa nodded and quietly said good-bye to Ellaria before they left. "Would you like to know more about your brother's Queen?" he asked her.

Sansa's expression brightened slightly. "Yes, please," she returned. Ever courteous she was, the perfect lady. "She's beautiful, but... a bit sad when I saw her."

"Apparently, your new sister-in-law was a healer, and she gave King Robb a good dressing-down for bringing war to what seemed to be a peaceful region. Of course, being a Volantene, she wouldn't know the struggles here in Westeros. Your brother allowed her to work in his army as a healer and they fell in love. It's a pretty good story," Oberyn continued. "However, he did break a marriage contract with Walder Frey, I believe."

Sansa sighed. Her brother was exactly like her father in manner, and she deduced that Robb must have been utterly in love to have broken said contract with the Freys. "That can't be good for strategy," she commented. "What if Robb one day needs to go back up North and the Frey's wouldn't them cross?"

Oberyn raised an eyebrow. No one ever told him that Sansa had an eye for strategy. He decided not to press the question, for he believed that she would reveal all in time. "I'm sure that your brother will be able to keep himself out of certain messes," he reassured her, patting her hand with his. After that, they walked in silence. Since passing the throne room and into the wing where Sansa had been housed in, they were entering Lannister territory, where there were many spies abound.

She had been under their torment for so long that her silence was only natural. Even in his company, her expression was now blank, and stone-cold. Only her eyes, only her eyes showed any sign of her individuality, and he could see that they contained much more than a girl could ever have. There was a mixture of hatred, anger with a twinge of guilt and regret that only he could understand. He wondered what would be the Starks' reaction would be when they got her back. Would they even recognize her? Could they have understood all that she had been through?

"Thank you so much for today," Sansa thanked him when they arrived at her chambers. "I... wouldn't have expected to..." She did not know what words she could say to thank him because she did not know what came over her. She barely knew them, but because Dorne was now in alliance with her brother, she felt that she could at least drop her guard. If anything happened to her, they would have to answer to Robb.

"Sansa, believe me when I say that I will do everything in my power to protect you henceforth," Oberyn swore to her, gently backing her towards her door, fixing his outstretched arm onto the door so that she could not escape him. Let the Lannisters see them, his actions declared wordlessly. He wanted them to see her like this, see the woman that she actually was, fierce and most definitely plotting their destruction.

Sansa had hoped that he said those words because of his alliance with Robb. She still did not know the specifics of said alliance, but she knew that Oberyn was her only way out from King's Landing now. Littlefinger had left for the Vale and the Tyrells were now in league with the Lannisters. He was her only escape. She had to trust him, even though she feared to do it, not because she feared that he would betray her, but she feared that it would plummet her into situations that she could not control. She did not know if she was ready to face such... uncertainty.

Oberyn bent close to kiss her again. This time, she was bolder, and more receptive to him. He felt her hook her arms around his neck as he gently sucked on her lower lip, and found out that she smelt of lavender. The she-Wolf was full of surprises, he mused to himself and pressed her deeper into him. A soft moan came from her as a result of their closeness and he thrust his tongue through her parted lips, giving a taste of only what was to come.

All of a sudden, her blue eyes shot open and she pulled back. Respecting her decision, he lifted both hands up to signal that he would not continue further. "I'm sorry, I..."

"There is no need to apologize," he told her, kissing her knuckles instead. "We have all the time in the world."

At least, he was able to make her smile, even just a little. "I'll see you tomorrow then," she almost whispered and retreated into her chambers.


Roose Bolton could not believe his luck. No one could have expected for Dorne to show up with the premise of an alliance, and no one would have expected Robb to take a gamble with the Dornishmen. Dornishmen were known to have kept a grudge, and it seemed that his King had forgotten that it was his aunt, Lyanna Stark that caused Rhaegar Targaryen to leave Princess Elia Martell, which started Robert's Rebellion in the first place. If he were a Stark, he would not have entered such a dangerous alliance, particularly when they could turn on them at any time.

The world has gone to dust, he cursed internally. Even when Robb had agreed to sit a Targaryen princess halfway across the known world on the Iron Throne, his bannermen still stuck with him. He had thought that such an ill-conceived notion would not have sat well on the Northern lords, but as it turned out, they were just as foolish as their young king was.

What made him even more uneasy was how easily Robb had trusted the two oldest Sand Snakes. After they had taken Casterly Rock, Obara was charged with training all the soldiers, Northmen and Dornishmen alike, and Robb had taken to truly unifying the army. He no longer used his own banners, nor the banners of his bannermen. Only a grey banner. A grey banner to signify the North. Strangely enough, the soldiers were taking greatly to this new strategem, which made him even more uneasy. No, it wasn't that Robb trusted the Sand Snakes above all, he was merely using them as a starting point. Karstark's insolence had stirred something in Robb that prompted this change. The arrival of the Dornish alliance precipitated it, and their last victory cemented it.

Robb Stark was more in control of his army than he ever was when he set out from Winterfell.

He knew that he had to run. He had to run because the course that the Young Wolf was taking was not in line with his plans. In order to secure Casterly Rock, Robb would rather plant and sow with the smallfolk than to move a single bit. Yes, he had sent his bastard Ramsay back to Winterfell to take it back from the Ironborn, but he had no intention of returning Winterfell to the Starks. He had thought that with no options left, Robb would have been forced to ask for the Frey's help to take Casterly Rock. He himself had promised marriage to a Frey girl worth her weight in silver, but he knew that he had to survive to claim such a rich gift from the Freys, and that their end of the bargain had to be upheld. He had thought that if he was able to serve Robb Stark on a silver platter with the Freys to the Lannisters, then his hold on the North would be certain. He could not be more wrong.

He had written a hasty message by raven to Ramsay. Ramsay was to pull all his men back to the Dreadfort and make it look like nothing had happened. They had to be able to pin the blame on the Ironborn if he was to survive this. He was sure that Ramsay would not act unless he knew that those orders that he himself had issued, and he would see them done. He would slip out in the night and by the time they had found him to be gone, it would be too late for them to do anything.

Hastily, he made his way to the stables and selected his horse, but just as he was about to ride out, he was stopped by a loud, low growl and yellow eyes. It was Grey Wind.

"Taking a night ride, Lord Bolton?" Robb asked him, coming out from one of the stalls, his arms crossed. By his side were Brynden Tully as well as the two Sand Snakes with them.

"Yes, Your Grace," Bolton replied. "After a whole day of tending to the fields, it does one good to get the stench of manure out..." Before he could speak any further, Nymeria cracked her whip, which landed around his wrist and pulled him down. "Your Grace, I assure you..."

Robb's eyes were still trained upon him. "We intercepted a raven from the Twins addressed to you. Would you like me to read what it says?" Robb asked. Brynden Tully handed him the message and he read aloud, "'When is the wolf-pup coming? The Lannisters are impatient. They'll want his head before they'll give us what we want.' Lord Bolton, I'm very disappointed to see that you're the one behind all this."

"You just got lucky," Bolton spat. "If Oberyn Martell hadn't come up and offered a Dornish alliance..."

"It is because of the Dornish alliance that you were discovered, Lord Bolton," Robb replied. "If I hadn't tasked Lady Nym with flushing out all of the Rock, she wouldn't have discovered a separate rookery near the base, with a raven carrying a new message for you from the Freys."

Bolton had nothing left to say. "So, you're going to execute me like you did Karstark?" he asked Robb.

"I have a better idea," Robb replied. "Chain him and lock him up. We'll decide his fate come morning."

"You're not going to kill him on the spot?" Obara asked Robb. "What if he escapes?"

"I'll have Grey Wind tethered in front of his cell," Robb suggested. "Let's see if he'll dare to escape then."

When dawn came, Robb had his bannermen haul Roose Bolton before the Northern lords in the Great Hall of Casterly Rock. Even in chains, his expression was unreadable. He did not smile nor snarl, nor did he thrash and throw himself around like Rickard Karstark. He was composed, not because he held himself with dignity, no. He was composed because he felt no emotion. He was Lord of the Dreadfort, after all.

"Lord Roose Bolton, you are accused of treason for sacking Winterfell and conspiring with the Freys and Lannisters to kill your King," Brynden Tully proclaimed. "You are hereby stripped of your titles and lands and all its incomes. Your bastard, Ramsay Snow will be named as an enemy of the North and will killed on sight." There was a loud chorus of cries by the lords of the North, including cries to have him hung or beheaded. However, Robb did not seem as enthusiastic as he was when he beheaded Rickard Karstark. His face as was blank as Bolton's.

"Roose Bolton will lead our next charge against the Lannisters," Robb declared. "He march a hundred feet before our hosts, bearing the Northern banner and only the banner." The Lannisters had a habit of using archers first to determine their range and whether the wind favored them. He would most likely the first to die then. If a volley of arrows could not kill him, then the charge of Lannister cavalrymen will. If even that could not kill him, then he would slip through the chaos of battle and end the traitor's life himself if need be. "Before then, he will manure the fields from sunrise till sundown."

Robb had learned his lesson. He would not let an errant Lord have the ease of instant death nor would he relinquish command of their men at their deaths. The Boltons and the Starks had a long-running history of rivalry and he was not about to stir any bickering amongst themselves. Once Bolton was taken away to the fields, Robb turned towards Brynden Tully. "Can we afford to change out the uniforms of all our men?" he asked the Blackfish.

"With so much Lannister gold, you can," the Blackfish replied. "What sort of uniforms do you have in mind?"

"Plain ones," Robb replied. "We have to learn from what the Martells had done with the spearmen they gave us: efficient, but without anything to set them apart from one another. I will also have the men reshuffled. They will march under only one banner."

"What about the lords?" Catelyn asked. "You can't just take command from them away!"

"I know how many men each lord commands, mother," Robb replied. "I will have them command the same number of men, not just their own. If we're going to win this war, we can't have any more differences between ourselves. We have to fight as one and die as one."

Only with a unified army can they win the war. Only with a unified army can they ever have hope to survive.


HAN: You guys wanted Roose Bolton subdued, and there he is, shoveling shit until the next attack. *Cackles evilly* I actually have a lot of stock in him, so I don't think that this will be the last that we'll see of him.

Meanwhile, what do you think of Sansa being a warg? Oh and that kiss with Oberyn. mmmm. *winks*

Yes, Robb is sort-of modernizing his armies, eh... somewhat.

Enjoy!