Writer's Notes: I'd like to announce a "casting change" of sorts. Generally, these stories follow the canon of the books but with visual cues taken from the TV show. However, this isn't 100% exact, and sometimes I make minor modifications if I believe it will better serve the story. For example, for those of you who read Book1, do recall that we had "recast" King Robert to be played by BRIAN BLESSED (not saying that the actor in the show was bad by any means, just that BRIAN BLESSED is a far superior King Robert).

Well, today, I'd like to announce a similar change. I like the character of Daenerys (at least as she appears in the books); however, I do not like the actress Emilia Clarke at all. Yes, shocking announcement, isn't it? I understand that many readers will disagree with my opinion, and that's perfectly fine, everyone is entitled to their own opinion. But I thought I would enjoy the character more (and that it would better suit the purposes of this story) if I replaced the actress - a better, more innocent-looking actress, and one maybe a little more age appropriate for the role (Clarke is 31 years old now, whereas Dany is supposed to be 17 in the show and only 13 at the start of the books).

Therefore, thanks to a well-articulated suggestion proposed by the user Kelmola over on the other website, I have decided to kick Emilia Clarke out of my stories and instead give Dany an appearance and voice based on the actress Evanna Lynch aka "Luna Lovegood" (specifically, her appearances in the 5th and 6th Harry Potter films, where she would be a little closer in age to Dany). I think she's perfect for the role. Therefore, moving forward in this story (and looking back retroactively at Book1), readers should henceforth envision Dany as being "played" by Luna Lovegood.

Now, with all that said, let's move on with the show.


The Flying Northman (XI)

Hungry Like The Wolf

She had first come here nearly a year ago, and the center of Autumn's Frontier had grown enormously in that time, and particularly after more of them had arrived, such that it was more appropriately called a small city in Dany's eyes. The central command center, complete with the control tower, and the medical center nextdoor to it, still formed the center of the colony. Now, however, new structures had since gone up and some had gone down and moved elsewhere.

A new structure, the local office for the UN, its gleaming and "modern" glass facade contrasting with the more concrete and functional-looking Company buildings, had been constructed half a mile away. The space between these two structures was the "Main Street" of the colony, a collection of one- and two-storey steel buildings hastily raised along this way. All the noisy, smoky, industrial places – the refinery, the manufactora, the railway yard, and the huge quarry – were all located on the other side of the command center. "Main Street" was The Company's attempt to create a pleasant and leisurely locale; they had even kept the trees between the two sectors in place, to try conceal as much of the quarry from "Main Street" as possible (though everywhere else they were felling more and more of the forest to feed the colony's demand for wood and open space).

Along Main Street, there was to be found a coffeehouse (that infamous one they called the "StarBux"), a fitness center, the post office, a variety of different shops peddling different wares, the school for the Sky-People's children (the one Niall and Kelly spoke of sending her to one day, when she was ready)... there was the colony's main central cafeteria, but there were four other small places to eat and drink, where both Sky-People and locals could be found – The Company's own laborers spending their hard-earned salaries, or visitors from as far as Essos spending their gold to savor the fare of the Sky-People with great curiosity. The most recent of these places to open was the one located in a low steel structure, a little but brightly lit red sign hanging above the entrance that read "CAMINO'S".

There was a truck they had running every hour, a shuttle service connecting the center of Autumn's Frontier with the now three smaller satellite colonies, including the "residential development" where she and her daughter lived with Niall and Kelly. She had just ridden in on the shuttle, using her Company-issued identification card to pay for her passage – apart from all the meals and other things that Niall and Kelly gave her, she was also receiving a small stipend to pay for things. From where the shuttle stopped was just a short walk to the place.

Yes, he was there, sitting at one of the tables by himself, though there was the great big wolf sitting down next to him, alert, drawing the attention (and occasional worried glances) from several other patrons at the nearby tables. Yes, with that wolf, who else could it be?

"Lord Stark," she addressed, bowing her head slightly when he saw her. She took the seat across the table from his.

"Lady Targaryen," he replied, bowing his head slightly. "Where is your daughter?"

"I left her at home, with my nurse. I know how much you're scared of her."

"A pity. I was beginning to get the impression she had taken a liking to me."

"Thank you for the gift," she said, as she took off the travel coat she was wearing, lined with wolf-fur and with the House Stark direwolf embroidered across the back. "It's lovely."

"You should thank my sisters. Arya remembered it was your Nameday, and Sansa made it. She seems to be quite attuned to whatever it is girls are finding 'fashionable' these days. Travel coats like this seem all the rage nowadays in Winter Town – they look 'modern' and yet are quite useful for our weather here."

"I'm sure they are," she replied; it was a brisk day, as most days here in the North (and especially now that summer was over and they were well into autumn), and beneath that she was wearing just the sleeveless red dress, with the golden flaming patterns... the one Lord Kovacs had given her.

"That's a... nice dress," he observed as she folded her travel coat over the back of her chair. "It's from one of the other worlds, is it?"

"Thank you," she replied. She did not want to admit that she actually rather liked it, whatever she thought of the man who gifted it to her. "Yes, it's from, well, it's from... uh..."

"Hi there!" interrupted someone approaching them; it was one of the Sky-People, dressed in black blouse and pants with a white apron and red bowtie. She handed out a pair of menus before continuing. "Welcome to Camino's! That means 'fireplace' in Italian, or 'the way' in Spanish, if you prefer. My name's Dory, I'll be your waitress today. You two must be locals. I can tell it from the way you're awkwardly sitting around (well, that and the sword was a dead giveaway too). Have you ever had pizza before?"

"No."

"Well, thank you for choosing Camino's!" continued Dory, "honestly, we make the best pizza! Wood-burning ovens, and real authentic Italian-style too, with thin-crust and real Mozzarella! Not like that thick-crusted garbage with fake cheese they serve at Nova Pizza, Pizza Planet, Tony Soprano's, or any other rival chain! Camino's: proud subsidiary of The Company."

"I've heard of Italy," remarked Dany. She looked across the table at Robb. "You know, they're supposed to be like Earth's Valyria. They have ancient Rome, volcanoes, and, uh..." She furrowed her brow, trying to recall exactly the words of Ser Bob Of Accounting from her nameday...

"And they had some great military exploits too," added Robb, "they once had this long, bitter war with another ancient empire called Carthage that was like what the Valyrians had with Old Ghis. Except Rome didn't have dragons, so they had to beat them the hard way. And their greatest general was this one named Caesar. You know, back when we were fighting the Lannisters down in the Riverlands, I drew a lot of ideas from reading about Caesar's exploits in Gaul and..."

"Ahem!" coughed their waitress, impatiently, whom Dany had already forgotten the name of.

"Right," said Robb, opening the menu, "yes, uh... what do you recommend?" Dany opened her menu too and, as usual, had her eyes assaulted with the strange words and colorful pictures and sheer variety of items and different flavors and things the Sky-People had. He probably had the right idea, if nothing else, to not look like a fool, unable to choose from all the choices in front of them.

"The specials today (and for probably the next year) are the Del Nord and the Casterliano," replied the waitress, holding up one of those so-called 'holo-tablets'.

"What're those?"

"To celebrate the opening of our first stores in the EE System, each of our locations here is supposed to come up with new flavors to match their unique locale," explained the waitress. "Our three pizza flavors we came up with here are the Pizza Del Nord, the Casterliano, and the Martellino. Our sister shop over at Beautiful Horizon has two new flavors out right now, the Gondoriana and the Gandolfini..."

"What's on the Del Nord?" asked Dany.

"Smoked elk, chanterelle, red onion, tomato, and mozzarella," she replied.

"Sounds good to me," shrugged Robb. He looked down at Grey Wind, who was eyeing his master expectantly. "I think he will want another pizza all to himself."

"If you want to, we can make it half one flavor and half something else," offered the waitress.

"All North is fine," insisted Dany. She did not quite fancy the idea of tasting something made in honor of those duplicitous lions, even if their current lord, the one they called "Halfdude", seemed a tad more decent than the traitor he had replaced.

The waitress tapped something into her tablet. "And would you like something to drink with that? We just received a shipment flown in from Dorne. Might be a little pricey now, but I'm sure prices will come down once we have the railway extended down to there."

"Dornish red, one bottle sounds good."

"Got it," she replied, "now I'll just need to see your ID's first. You know, make sure you're both of age."

"Is that necessary?" asked Dany, "I can tell you right now, we are both ten-and-five years of age."

"Oh. In which case, sorry, I'll have to take that back," said the waitress, apologetically, "you're both underage. I'm sorry, it's just the two of you look older than fifteen. My mistake."

"I beg your pardon," muttered Robb, "this is the North. Northern customs and rights apply."

"Yes, and Autumn's Frontier is an enclave within the North, administered along UN guidelines and regulations."

"I am the Lord Of Winterfell," insisted Robb, "I recall Lord Kovacs telling me that I had special rights as a head of state."

"And I have a special exemption from UN regulation!" added Dany, suddenly recalling what Lady Carson had mentioned on her nameday.

The waitress, however, looked unconvinced. "If that's the case, I'll have to hear it from your lawyers. Sorry, but right now, I can't serve you wine. Look, try and look at it from my perspective, okay? UN office's just a few doors down from here. They find out that I might have been serving minors, I could get fined a few hundred credits and we could lose our liquor license!"

Again, the Sky-People and all their confusing and sometimes complete nonsense rules and regulations, thought Dany, quite annoyed. Honestly, what harm could the two of them really cause with just a half bottle each? Would it really cause the end of the world to serve them wine? "Fine, just give us water then," she blurted.

"That's one silver stag off the tip," fumed Robb, bitterly, once the waitress had left them and was out of earshot. "If she wasn't going to serve us, she should not have offered in the first place!"

"Well, she probably assumed we were older. I... I have met some of the colonists' children and, well, even the ones said to be my age... they still look and behave like children! They make even Lord Kovacs seem elderly and mature by comparison."

"Regardless, that's another drop I can add to Lord Kovacs' bucket of horse-piss."

"You hate him too?"

"He's rude, he's disrespectful," fumed Robb, "when he was here, he made me sign all kinds of papers (which, mind you, is to them as good as swearing an oath is to us). He made me do things I would never have done otherwise. He made me help him cheat and lie, which I did, because I needed his help to protect my family. You don't know what it's like, do you? Having to choose between the father you love, and the honor he always taught you to value? Argh! And now today, I found out on the train coming up this morning that he has been underpaying us for all the land, this land, that we have been leasing out to The Company."

"Whatever it is, at least he helped give you your family back," seethed Dany, "he took mine away from me." Honestly, she was started to get a little annoyed with the Young Wolf's whinging. Whatever wrongs he had suffered at the hands of the Merchant Prince were minor compared to hers!

"So here we are, comparing who has the bigger grievance with a man that, if the Gods are truly good, neither of us will ever have to see, ever again. Is that it?" He narrowed his eyes. "That dress... it's from Lord Kovacs, isn't it?"

"How do you know that?" she asked.

"I've been reading a little about the other worlds, their histories, their great nations, their heroes and conquests," he continued, "that one looks like it's from the... Fire Nation, I believe. Yes, the Fire Nation - a nation so powerful and advanced, they were building flying ships and steam trains even before the Sky-People arrived, burned whole cities to the ground like the Valyrians used to, and would have conquered all of their world were it not for the one they call 'Avatar'! All of this, I have only read in books or have been told by others. For the only person I know on that world right now is Lord Kovacs."

Dany said nothing, though that only seemed to validate his accusation in his eyes.

"So, you hate him... and you're wearing the dress he gave you."

"It... is beautiful," she said at last. She did not want to tell him the real reason she had picked it out today.

"And you know what?" he responded, "I absolutely agree. I guess that makes two of us. He gave me this as a gift, and I still carry it around with me everywhere." He reached into the leather pouch on his belt and pulled out a long, cold, grey item. He placed it on the table with a metallic thud. It was one of their firearms. "Though I guess it's useful at least. For protection, and as a mark of authority."

"Have you ever shot it before?" she asked, curious.

"Only in practice," he said, reproachfully. She noticed some hesitation in his speech. "Now that you mention it, I... uh, don't think I've ever used it in battle, not once."

"You conquered the South and you never once used your gun?"

"There's a difference between commanding an army, and doing the actual fighting," sighed Robb. "I know, strange isn't it? Before the Sky-People came, I used to spend every day, sparring and training for war, with Jon and Theon and father. And then, war finally comes, and just about the only time I ever used my sword this whole campaign was when I chopped off the Kingslayer's hand."

"You missed," said Dany, "you should have chopped him at the neck."

"Aye, and you are probably right," said Robb, closing his eyes in regret, "but... well... see, it's hard to explain." He sighed. "I think we may have had this conversation before. And I have no doubt that if 'twas I in his place, the Kingslayer would have gutted me alive where I lay. But father would have wanted me to make a point to make him stand trial for his crimes, to show that we're better than that."

"I guess we're all just products of the parents who make us," she replied.

"I agree," shrugged Robb, "even Lord Kovacs. Look at his mother, like Cersei magnified a thousand times in beauty, arrogance, and manipulation. And who is his father anyway?"

"He's... that's a very good question," she said. Now she was genuinely curious. She had heard Lady Kovacs brought up many times by Niall and Kelly, but almost never her husband. She would ask them when she got back this evening.

"I mean, look at Joffrey," he rambled on, "arrogant little shit and yes, pardon my Dornish, but that's about the most accurate description I can think of. Mother was a whore, father was the Kingslayer. Nothing good ever comes from in... uh..."

"Yes?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"...fidelity," he said, quickly, "yes, nothing good ever comes from infidelity."

"If you meant to say incest, by all means go ahead," she replied, coolly, "my late father burned your grandfather and your uncle alive; you've earned that much."

"I didn't mean it that way... I'm sorry."

"No offense taken," she retorted with ice in her breath. "At least your family has a legitimate gripe with mine."

"Look, if it makes you feel any better," he said quickly. "Look, please listen. You know... my dear mother was originally betrothed to my uncle Brandon, before he... uh..." He sighed, clearly having difficulty with what he was to say next. "I guess, in some twisted way, I owe my very existence to your father. If not for his... uh... if not for him, there might be a very different Lord Of Winterfell sitting in front of you today."

"And if not for his madness, there would probably be a very different heir to the Iron Throne sitting in front of you today," she replied. "But... thank you. That's probably the nicest thing you've said all day."

They sat in silence for several minutes, saying nothing. She looked at the other people around them, all Sky-People, except for what looked like a group of Braavosi merchants in the opposite corner enamored in the things they were seeing and tasting. And everyone was engrossed in their own personal lives, none of them seeming to care about their conversation. And then...

"I know this song," he spoke up, just now taking note of the music being recited over the restaurant's speakers. "My sister plays it all the time, this one and all her other 'Fredmusik'."

"I know it too," she said, "Niall plays it all the time. One of his favorite performing groups."

"I'm on the hunt, I'm after you... and I'm hungry like the wolf!" sang Robb.

"Woof!" chimed in Grey Wind. He seemed to agree with the lyrics' assessment.

They both broke out laughing.

"Teach me," said Dany, abruptly.

"Uh... what?"

"My brother, Rhaegar, was once beloved across the Realm for his skill with the sword and harp both. And my brother Viserys... well, he was not quite Rhaegar, but he had his moments too." She remembered the sight of him, her brother, back in Vaes Dothrak in his final moments, fighting back no matter how hopelessly outmatched he was, and she was filled a sudden and immense sadness. "I... I wish to honor both of them. I would love to learn the sword too."

"I am not teaching you how to use a sword!"

"And why not?" she insisted, " your sister practices at it daily. She is quite good at it from what I have heard."

"Absolutely not!"

"Ruff!" barked Grey Wind, except that after that, he grabbed onto the sword in his master's scabbard with his mouth, and tugged on it – firmly but gently of course, for had he pulled on it with his true strength, he probably would have pulled his master clean off his chair.

"Grey Wind seems to agree with me," she observed, "and earlier you were lamenting not putting your hard-learned swordsmanship to good use, if I recall correctly."

"What? No, bad boy! Down, boy! Down!"

"Another sport then?" she suggested. She eyed the gun sitting on the table. "I know! Firearms then. If swords are indeed going out and firearms are what's in these days."

Grey Wind barked, finally letting go of his master's belt.

"Fine!" said Robb, "I will take you to the firing range after this. But only this one time, understood? You want lessons, I'm sorry, you can ask Niall or Ser Hawthorne or Lord Daniel. You realize I have a Kingdom to run!"

Dany smiled innocently. "I understand."

"Oh. My. God!" squealed a voice from behind her.

Dany turned around to see a Sky-Woman approaching her. "You're Daenerys Targaryen!" she continued, "Oh my god! Oh my god! I'm, like, such a huge fan! Can you sign my shirt please thank you?" Without even waiting for Dany's response, she shoved a pen practically into Dany's face (thus making her entire request for permission kind of redundant anyway). She then lifted up her shirt up for her to sign, exposing her pudgy midriff and bra.

"I'm sorry, who you are?" asked Robb.

"I'm Gabby," she smiled, "but oh my god, Daenerys Targaryen! We have, like, a whole fan club devoted to you!" She proudly showed off her t-shirt, which Dany could now see had the Targaryen sigil (with numerous mistakes here and there, but still recognizable) and their house words printed upon it. She continued, giddily, as she reached for her MyPhone: "I need to show you something. I'm already working on my cosplay for the first annual EridaniCon that's gonna be held in Republic City next year! I'm gonna be you!"

Dany did not know whether she felt more honored, humiliated, horrified, or just confused at all she was hearing and seeing. Robb, meanwhile, muttered: "I guess there are secret Targaryen loyalists around here after all."

"Wait, you're Robb Stark, aren't you?" continued Gabby, starry-eyed, "shit, sorry I, like, so didn't recognize you! You're even more cute in real life than on the holo-vids! But you look so different from when you were at the UN! New haircut? New uniform? It really suits you, you look so macho and militaristic! My BFF back on Earth is writing a fanfic that has you paired up with her OC and...!"

Oh. Gods., was the thought Dany could tell was running through his mind. "Thank you. Now leave us," he said, firmly.

"Okay, but I just wanna say," Gabby continued, turning back to Dany, "I totally think you were right all along. I totally think you should have been the Queen! Stannis is an asshole! I wish the UN had picked you!"

"Please. Leave. Us. Alone." muttered Robb, again.

She turned back to look at him, and smiled. "Say, I know what's going on. You two are secretly plotting against Stannis, aren't you? Oh, don't worry about me, I promise I'll keep my mouth shut and...!"

"Just. Stop." growled Robb, raising his voice slightly. Beside him, Grey Wind bared his teeth.

Gabby seemed to have gotten the hint, and since she had already gotten what she wanted, she left at this point. About bloody time.

"I swear to whatever Gods you follow, I have never seen that person before," remarked Dany, holding her hands up.

"That's fine," growled Robb, quite red in the face, "on second thoughts, perhaps we should take lunch... what's the Sky-People word? In a wolf bag and go."

"I agree," she mumbled, "though I think the correct word is dog's bag."

"I am quite certain that's not the correct word either."

They both broke out laughing. Yet again.

And then, they were interrupted. Yet again.

"Excuse me," said the man, in just about the flattest, most nasal, most unmotivated voice one could imagine. He was obese, dressed in a shirt and tie, with glasses, and a face covered in pimples such that it looked almost indistinguishable from the pizza this establishment served. He continued, in that monotonous drawl: "Um. Hi. Yes. I'm the manager here. Sorry, some of the other patrons are complaining about your dog. Can you please leash him outside? I'm afraid he can only stay in here if he's a registered service animal. Oh, and about your gun. Sorry. Do you have an open carry permit? All registered Company employees are entitled to carry one personal defense weapon, but all visitors are required to have a permit. Because then I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to please..."

Robb and Dany stared at each other for a moment. And then he quietly and calmly lowered his forehead onto the top of the table and scowled.