Here is my second attempt at another medieval battle. Hopefully this one is better than the Battle on the Fever River.

UPDATE

Definitely not doing the polygamy thing. I apologize for the mistake I made. It was a spur of the moment thought that I had and regret coming up with it. Asha will remain as his mistress, nothing more. Forget that I ever thought of this idea.

Anyway, shoutout to new reviewers: CaedmonCousland, Deiron Lionheart, Wolfking0811, Drakhus Von Carstein, lilnudger82, JAIMOL, KidChaos69, Golden Dragon King, TheFlowerOfTheCourt, Tritan and to returning reviewers: Dipsyy, Gravio, iitrnr, mpowers045, onyxhaider98, ravens18, WarBible, Master of Dragons God, jean d'arc, Vandal, Blaze1992, and guest.

Enjoy and review

They had stopped for the night after crossing the White Knife River and had made camp a few days from the Dreadfort. Asha had joined Brynden inside his pavilion to pleasure him while his wolf was curled up by the fire, but she had grown used to his presence. When Brynden was inside her, all of her worries disappeared, and she enjoyed the feeling, letting her lust take over her body.

None of the northern lords approved of her relationship with their prince, but neither Asha nor Brynden cared about it. To them she was just a squid, but in the eyes of their prince, Asha was Brynden's mistress. Asha wanted to be more than that if it meant saving her people from ruin and giving them a life that her father could never hope to achieve. The ironborn were not a forgiving people, and Asha had been defeated once already, and she did not know how her father or people would react if she came back home with a Stark as her husband, yet she was her father's heir with her uncle Victarion dead and Theon's whereabouts were unknown. Her father had given her people only war and defeat, but she hoped to give them peace and land to settle on.

Asha knew it would not be easy convincing Brynden Stark to take her as his wife after the battles their people had fought, but she had to try in order to shield her people from his fury. His house needed allies if they hoped to prevail against the south. Even bed warmers and prisoners have ears, and she had heard all the talk at Winterfell, when Prince Brynden and his commanders were discussing their battle plans of the Dreadfort. His brother, King Robb had wed some western wench, losing the support of the Freys of the Crossing, and the Lannisters had formed an alliance with the Tyrells and the Martells of Dorne. She doubted the Starks would be able to hold the riverlands against all of the south by themselves.

When they had finished, Brynden rolled off and climbed from their bed, and crossed over to where his maps were laid out. Her loins still ached from the urgency of his lovemaking. It was a good ache. She could feel his seed within her. Asha had lost count of how many times Brynden had spilled his seed inside of her. She would not at all be surprised to find out that she was pregnant with his child.

"You should get some sleep," Brynden told her while he hovered over his maps, naked as the day he was born.

"So should you." Asha wondered if now would be the best time to propose her offer to him. A warrior needed to be focused before going into battle, but she didn't know if she would get another chance to tell him. Brynden was neither betrothed nor wed at the moment, and their union could put an end to the blood feud between their two houses and unite their people against the south. He might be the second son, but he was still the heir to the north until his brother had a son.

Not wanting to miss this chance, Asha got out of bed, cursing the cold, and crossed over to Brynden, pressing her body against his and wrapping her arms around him. She could never understand how Brynden was used to the cold, but he had told her that the Starks were made for the cold. "Can't stand being alone in bed without me, can you?" Brynden asked.

"We need to talk," Asha said, ignoring his jape.

"About what?"

"An alliance."

"There's nothing to talk about." Asha knew he would be difficult, but she had to make him see her point.

"You need allies if you hope to defeat your enemies. I can give you that." She did not know if she truly could, but it would not serve her cause to show doubt before this prince.

"I have your ships. What else can your people give me that I already have?"

"Peace without further bloodshed. If you decide to attack the Iron Islands, you will lose men, and we both know that you need all the men you can get if you hope to defeat your enemies. With my uncle dead and Theon missing, I am my father's heir."

"We both know what happened the last time we tried to form an alliance with your people. Your people tried to invade my lands and slaughtered my people. Had I not been wary of your brother and known that my brother sent yours to negotiate an alliance with your father, things might have been different and your people might have taken the north and I never would have known that my brothers were still alive after your brother's folly. What makes this time any different?"

Asha could sense his anger, but remained calm despite knowing that this man had also slaughtered her own men. She had lost good men that day when Brynden Stark had retaken Deepwood Motte and defeated her in the woods, but she would not let the past affect her as it did to her father. She was in this mess because of her father's desire for revenge.

"Marriage and lands for my people to settle on. In exchange they will help man and crew your ships. We both know that you need sailors and captains. The Ironborn were born to sail on the waters and yours have no experience at sea."

Brynden freed himself from her embrace and turned around to face her with a surprised look on his face. "Marriage? And what lands are we talking about? I doubt your father or my brother would agree to this."

"Our marriage, Stark and Greyjoy. Cape Kraken, Sea Dragon Point, and the Stony Shore, enough land to settle my people on. In return they will swear fealty to the Starks of Winterfell. Why continue this pointless bloodshed when we can unite our people to stand together against the Iron Throne? Leave my father to me."

Brynden frowned, as if he was deep in thought. She knew it was a lot to take in, but surely it was enough to convince him to think about it. Their people may be enemies today, but on the morrow, they could be allies united together against the Iron Throne. They both wanted the same thing: freedom from the rule of the south.

"I need time to think about this," Brynden said at last. "My bannermen will also need to hear this offer. No doubt they will be wary as I am about forming an alliance with your people, but what you say is true. After my brother's folly we need all the allies we can get if we hope to win this war. Even if it means making peace with our enemies."

Asha smiled. "That is all that I ask. Now come back to bed with me."

Brynden smirked. "Admit it, you can't stand being in bed without me."

"Never." She pressed her lips against his and led him back to bed, wanting to feel him inside of her and hoping that he would agree to her offer.

Her sons were alive. Catelyn couldn't believe it when the raven had arrived from Winterfell, informing her and Robb of the news. There had been nothing but silence for a while and Catelyn had worried over the fate of her second son until at last word had come down from the north. Winterfell had been retaken, but Ser Rodrik and his host were slaughtered by the Bastard of Bolton and all of the Ironborn holding the castle were put to the sword and her son was now marching on the Dreadfort to have the bastard answer for his crimes. Catelyn was disappointed when she was informed that Theon Greyjoy was not amongst the dead. The raven also had news informing the lords that were with Robb of the wellbeing of their sons.

Robb had also been in disbelief when he had learned that his brothers were alive. Catelyn wondered if he had now realized his mistake when he had taken Jeyne Westerling as his wife and queen. Not for the first time, Catelyn cursed the distance from Winterfell to Riverrun, as if the raven had arrived sooner, Robb could have been informed and not broken his oath to House Frey. It was swords that they needed now more than ever now that the Lannisters had allied with the Tyrells and the Martells. Robb was now alone in this war against the Lannisters.

The north may be secured now, but it was the riverlands they now had to worry about. It would not be easy holding the riverlands for Catelyn knew all too well of her land's bloody history. Even with Jaime Lannister as their prisoner still, it was only a matter of time before the Lannisters took to the field once more against her son. They had the numbers, but Catelyn was certain Robb would prevail; he had not lost a battle yet against the Lannisters, and when Brynden joined his forces to Robb's they would defeat their enemies together.

All Catelyn wanted now was to be reunited with her family, but her girls were still held by the Lannisters at King's Landing. She knew her sons were focused on seceding their lands from the rule of the Iron Throne, yet she couldn't stand knowing that her girls were still captives at King's Landing. Had Jaime Lannister remained at Riverrun, Catelyn was certain she would have freed him if it meant winning her daughter's freedom, knowing that Robb and his lords would never abide to it.

Catelyn hoped that when her son resumed his attack on the westerlands, he would send her back to Winterfell to let her be with Bran and Rickon. It had been so long since she had last seen them and she was relieved to know that they were alive and well. She wondered if Brynden would make it down to the riverlands before her father passed away. Catelyn knew her father did not have much time left and hoped that he would see her Brynden before he passed.

"How long does Prince Brynden expect his siege on the Dreadfort will last? I doubt Lord Bolton will be pleased to hear what Brynden plans to do to his castle." Edmure spoke. Her brother had wanted to make amends for his folly with the Battle of the Fords. In retaliation for his bastard sacking Winterfell, Brynden planned to raze the castle to the ground.

"We will hear what Lord Bolton has to say for his bastard's actions soon enough," Robb told them. "As for my brother's actions, he has the right to deliver justice to the Bastard of Bolton as my heir."

"Will that not make Lord Bolton an enemy though?" Her uncle asked.

"He did not seem to mind at all the first time when he had learned that Ser Rodrik killed his bastard," Robb replied. But what about this time, Catelyn wondered.

She remembered the queer cold letter they had received from Roose Bolton the first time he had learned that his bastard had been killed by Ser Rodrik as if his bastard had meant less to him than one of his dogs. Catelyn did not at all know how that man's mind worked and hoped that he would be more forgiving than Walder Frey.

Roose Bolton had crossed the Trident and was marching on Harrenhal as commanded, he wrote. "A strong castle, and well garrisoned, but His Grace shall have it, if I must kill every living soul within to make it so." He hoped His Grace would weigh that against the crimes of his bastard son, whom Ser Rodrik Cassel had put to death. "A fate he no doubt earned," Bolton had written. "Tainted blood is ever treacherous, and Ramsay's nature was sly, greedy, and cruel. I count myself well rid of him. The trueborn sons my young wife has promised me would never have been safe while he lived."

Catelyn wondered what his response would be this time when he learned what her son planned to do to his castle when he was done with his bastard.

"This time would be different though," her uncle pointed out, voicing her thoughts. "Your brother will put all of the garrison to the sword and raze the castle to the ground."

"Those men should have thought twice then before following Bolton's bastard into sacking Winterfell." Robb snapped. "They are traitors and Brynden has the right to punish them as he sees fit."

"I doubt Lord Bolton will see it that way," Edmure said.

"Lord Bolton will have a chance to prove his loyalty in the coming battle against the Lannisters when Brynden joins us," Robb said. "The man has proven himself loyal so far to our cause and I have not doubted him yet. It was his bastard that betrayed us, not Roose Bolton."

"I hope you are right," her uncle said. "We need allies not enemies now more than ever if we hope to win this war."

"When Brynden joins us once he is done in the north, we might just stand a chance." Robb said.

For all their sakes, Catelyn hoped that Robb was right.

The pain had been excruciating and constant. Theon wanted it all to end, but Ramsay persisted with the torture. He had lost track of how long it had been since he had been brought to the Dreadfort. Down in the dungeons, it was hard to tell when it was day or night. For a time he wondered if this was the punishment he had earned for what he had done to the miller's boys. How long did he have to endure this pain before he was finally put out of his misery? Theon wanted it to end but Ramsay would have none of that.

He did not want to forget his name, but when he resisted and defied Ramsay the pain would increase tenfold. Serve me and obey, Ramsay would tell him, and I will let you live and keep the parts that you still have. He would never become his Reek, but there were times when he was tempted to surrender to put an end to the pain. Brynden Stark would come for him, Theon knew and when he did he would finally be put out of his misery. He would rather die by the dark greatsword Brynden wielded than continue to be tortured by Ramsay. Anything at this point was better than remaining a prisoner of the Dreadfort.

Yet Brynden Stark had not come and Theon wondered what was taking him so long. Did he not know that it was Ramsay not Theon who had sacked Winterfell and slaughtered Ser Rodrik's host? It would have been just his luck for Brynden to believe that he was dead and not knowing that Ramsay was the real culprit behind the sack of Winterfell. Not for the first time, Theon wished he had heeded Asha's advice and returned with her to Deepwood Motte instead of being the fool that he was and believing that he could hold Winterfell against Brynden Stark.

Theon did not know how much longer he would be able to endure the pain before he submitted, but he wanted to at least be himself when Brynden Stark came to end his and Ramsay's lives. Nothing would give him more satisfaction than watching Brynden Stark take Ramsay's head. Sooner or later the bastard would get what he deserved and not even the Dreadfort would be able to protect him from the Demon of the North. It was the only thing that kept him sane in his cell.

To his horror, Theon heard the door to his cell open and the sound of footsteps as they grew louder and louder. Please gods, he isn't coming for me, he prayed. He knew what was coming next if it was Ramsay. Go away, he prayed, go away, please, please. But the footsteps stopped just when they were loudest, and he shrieked when the light hit him full in the face. Ramsay smiled as his face appeared in front of Theon's. Ramsay was ugly man, big-boned and slope-shouldered, with a fleshiness to him that suggested that in later life he would run to fat. His skin was pink and blotchy, his nose broad, his mouth small, his hair long and dark and dry. His lips were wide and meaty, but the thing men noticed first about him were his eyes. He had his lord father's eyes—small, close-set, queerly pale. Ghost grey, some men called the shade, but in truth his eyes were all but colorless, like two chips of dirty ice.

"Hello again, my friend," Ramsay greeted. "What piece should we take off today or have you decided to submit?"

"I'm Theon Greyjoy," he replied.

"No you are not, you are Reek. It seems that we will have to peel off some more of your skin today." Theon knew what was coming. Ramsay preferred to flay the skin and let the exposed flesh dry and crack and fester. Theon had been whipped and racked and cut, but there was no pain half so excruciating as the pain that followed flaying. It was the sort of pain that drove men mad, and it could not be endured for long.

Sooner or later the victim would scream, "Please, no more, no more, stop it hurting, cut it off, " and Ramsay would oblige. It was a game they played. Theon had learned the rules, despite his defiance, as his hands and feet could testify, but that one time he had forgotten and tried to end the pain himself, with his teeth. Ramsay had not been pleased, and the offence had cost Theon another toe.

Before Ramsay could begin they were interrupted by another sound of footsteps as a guard entered the cell. Ramsay frowned and turned to face the guard. "What is it?"

"Pardon for the intrusion, but Brynden Stark has crossed the White Knife River with a host of eleven thousand men. They mean to attack the Dreadfort."

At last, Theon thought with glee. He knew that sooner or later Brynden Stark would learn the truth about the sack and would come to seek justice. He would soon be free of the torment and Ramsay would meet his end. Theon knew that this news had saved him from another day of flaying. Theon wondered how the bastard would act against the Blackwolf.

"Ready the men for battle. Let's go ride out and greet our prince." Ramsay ordered.

Fool, Theon wanted to tell him, but knew it would be wiser to remain silent. Brynden Stark would not make the same mistake Ser Rodrik had made if he was marching on the Dreadfort. Someone had to have told him about the sack, but who, Theon wondered.

"Would it not be wiser to wait for them to come to us?" The guard asked.

Ramsay smiled. "We'll take them out the same way we took out his castellan."

Brynden lay awake, thinking about the offer Asha had proposed to him. Asha nestled against him, one arm draped lightly over his, her breasts brushing his back. He could hear her breathing, soft and steady. It was hard not for him to think about it when all that went through his mind was the thought of Asha being his wife. The last time he had thought about marriage was at the Twins when Robb had agreed to take one of Walder Frey's daughters as his wife in order to cross. If he agreed to Asha's offer he would not make the same mistake Robb did and would immediately wed her to seal their alliance.

Most of his bannermen's reactions had been exactly as he had predicted when he had told them about Asha's offer. Even Robett Glover, his staunchest champion had opposed the offer. None of them liked the idea of settling the Ironborn on Cape Kraken, Sea Dragon Point, and the Stony Shore. The squid asks for too much they had told him. He knew that Asha asked for a lot but as much as Brynden agreed with his bannermen they needed allies if they hoped to defeat their enemies. It was also hard for Brynden to tell if his bannermen disagreed because they wanted one of their daughters to be his wife.

If it were not for Robb's folly with his marriage to the western wench, Brynden would never have considered it. Now it was a different story. As the heir to the north, Brynden knew that he would have to sooner or later marry, but never thought it would be with the daughter of a Great House, not to mention a Greyjoy. He wondered if his mother or Robb would approve of his decision if he decided to accept Asha's offer. The only problem he saw with Asha's offer was dealing with her father. It would be no easy task convincing Balon Greyjoy as the man had already spurned his brother's offer for an alliance once before. He had no idea if things would be any different if Asha was to be his wife.

Despite his mistrust of Balon Greyjoy, Asha assured him that he had always preferred her as his heir after Theon was sent to Winterfell as his father's ward. Brynden could see why as Asha was certainly a woman who could lead better than Theon ever could. She was also certainly a lot more forgiving than he was, realizing the importance of being allies than enemies. Not for the first time Brynden wished that Father was here. He would know what to do in this situation, but he was gone, along with Maester Luwin and Ser Rodrik. It would ultimately be his decision whether or not he should agree to Asha's offer of an alliance.

Asha must have been thinking about the offer when she had first gone into bed with him, obeying and pleasuring the man who had slaughtered her men. She certainly was not like any of the ladies he had encountered. Most would have tried to resist if they had been in Asha's position. Brynden was starting to regret the first night they were together when he had raped her in his anger when he had thought that Theon had killed his brothers. He had let his emotions get the better of him, blaming her and her people for the deaths of his brothers, not knowing that they were alive. He was a Stark of Winterfell; he should have been better than that.

Still, Asha made a good point about invading the Iron Islands. Brynden was certain that they would be able to defeat the Ironborn, but it would cost them. With Stannis Baratheon defeated and the south under the control of the Lannisters, Brynden knew that they needed all the men they could get. Attacking the Iron Islands would only hurt their cause and weaken their armies, giving the Lannisters the opportunity to attack them. He hated to admit it, but Asha was right. They needed the Ironborn and the Ironborn needed them if they hoped to prevail against the Iron Throne.

Asha murmured sleepily as Brynden slid out from under her arm and rolled over onto his side to look at her. She had a faded pink scar on her pretty neck, and the smell of her enticed him, salt and sweat and woman. Smirking, Brynden slid his hand up and squeezed her breasts. Her breasts were small, but he liked the firmness of them. Her eyes snapped open and he could see the sparkle in her dark eyes.

Asha smiled and he could feel her hand reach down and stroke his manhood. She had the wickedest smile he'd ever seen on a woman. "Looks like someone is eager down there. Is my body that irresistible for you?"

"You have no idea." Brynden grinned, reaching down and grabbing Asha by the waists before rolling onto his back, with Asha on top of him. "I could use some distraction before the coming battle."

They were a day's march from the Dreadfort and Brynden wanted his men well and rested before they attacked. They might have the numbers but the Boltons had the advantage if they decided to hole up in the castle. He would lose more men storming the castle than the Boltons would.

"My favorite position," Asha said as she slid his manhood inside her and began to grind her body against his.

Damn this woman knew how to fuck. Squeezing her rear end, Brynden lifted himself off the bed as Asha continued to ride him and pressed his lips against hers while her breasts pressed against his chest. He could feel her nipples harden as their tongues fought for dominance, tugging and pulling the other while their saliva mixed together. Eventually he could feel his manhood ready to burst and they climaxed together, with his seed shooting into Asha's womb.

He fell back onto the bed and Asha rested her head on his shoulder. With the amount of times he had spilled his seed inside of her, Brynden was certain she would be carrying his child by now. If she was, Brynden did not want their child to grow up as a bastard like Jon Snow, but to prevent that he would have to take her as his wife and Brynden was still uncertain of Asha's offer. Indeed it was an alliance his House needed after Robb had broken their alliance with the Freys of the Crossing and Brynden doubted a better one would come anytime soon with the Martells and Tyrells allied with the Lannisters. The only Great House left that had not committed itself to the war was House Arryn.

The knights of the Vale could make all the difference in this war, but Aunt Lysa refused to aid them against the Lannisters. Even when they had won every battle and secured the north, Brynden could not help but wonder if they stood a chance against the might of the south. If it was at Moat Cailin, they would be able to throw their armies back easily, but it was the riverlands they had to worry about.

His thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a warhorn blasting. The horns called through the night, wild and urgent, a cry that said hurry hurry hurry. He heard shouts, the clatter of spears, the whicker of horses, though nothing yet that spoke to him of fighting. "Just when I thought I was going to be able to get some rest," Asha muttered.

"It's Ser Kyle's warhorns," Brynden told her as he rolled her off him and got out of bed. Shadow bared his teeth and let out a low rumble. The flap to his pavilion opened and Harrion Karstark entered. "What is it?" Brynden asked, throwing on a tunic and slipping his legs through his breeches.

"Ser Kyle and his outriders have engaged the Bastard of Bolton's men. They count no more than six hundred men in his party." Harrion told him, ignoring the state of undress Asha was in while Brynden put on his armor.

"Saves us the trouble of having to lay siege to the castle. I want our men to surround them to prevent them from retreating. If possible I want the bastard brought to me alive. I want the bastard to die by my hands." Brynden told Harrion.

"I will see to it at once, my prince," Harrion bowed and took his leave.

"The bastard is a fool if he believed that he could catch you off guard," Asha said as she covered herself up in her furs.

"No doubt he thought he could catch me off guard as he did with Ser Rodrik," Brynden said.

Did the bastard truly expect that he could take on Brynden's host of eleven thousand with just six hundred men? Brynden wondered what the bastard was thinking when he had decided to leave the safety of the walls of the Dreadfort to engage his army. It was obvious to Brynden that the bastard had no skills at commanding if he believed that he could defeat Brynden. It almost made him feel sorry for the men that were following the bastard into battle.

"There's no need for you to get up," Brynden told Asha as he opened the flap to his pavilion, with Shadow bounding off for battle. "This will be over before you know it."

Asha smirked. "Just don't take too long."

"Like that will happen." Brynden exited the pavilion and headed over to where his horse was. His guards were waiting for him as Brynden mounted his steed. "Time for us to spill some Bolton blood, men!"

"Blackwolf!" They cheered as they rode off to join the others in battle.

Brynden heard the screams of the horses, the shouting of men, and the clash of steel on steel before they arrived at the sight of the battle. The flayed man of the Boltons could be seen as the riders struggled to control their horses while Karstark spearmen thrust their spears at them. Brynden had no doubt that Harrion would be among them, commanding the attack. He just hoped that the bastard did not die in the first charge.

A hiss of arrows fell down on the Boltons, taking a few of them with them down before Brynden and his guards charged into the fray. Unsheathing Ice, Brynden swung it down on the first Bolton that came into his sight. He had never been good at fighting on horseback as Robb had been, but this battle was nothing more than a massacre and Brynden was eager to shed the blood of the men that had sacked Winterfell.

The next Bolton that he had faced was not so easy as the first one he had struck down. This one was big and muscled, and refused to go down without a fight. Brynden was happy to give it to him. Their swords danced in the night as they struck each other, waiting for the other to show an opening of weakness. The Bolton man was the first to lose focus as Shadow emerged from the darkness and snapped his fangs at the rider's horse. Brynden took the opportunity to swing Ice at his foe, taking the man's head right off of him. The head bounced off into the darkness while the body slumped off the horse and the steed galloped off as Shadow descended onto the corpse.

Riding off in search of another target, Brynden rode down a Bolton man that was chasing after a fleeing horse. By then the rest of the Boltons had been dealt with as the archers picked off any stragglers. Making his way through the battlefield, Brynden spotted Ser Kyle and a few of his outriders. "SER KYLE!" Brynden called out.

Ser Kyle and his riders rode over to him. "My prince," Ser Kyle bowed.

"Did your men manage to capture the bastard?"

"We did. They are waiting for you."

"Take me to him." It was time for Brynden to face the man responsible for destroying his home. He would finally get to avenge Maester Luwin, Ser Rodrik, and all the other men that had tried to retake Winterfell from Theon Greyjoy.

Ser Kyle led Brynden to an ugly looking man, with a pale pink cloak streaming from his shoulders. When he looked at the man, Brynden instantly knew he was the bastard when he saw his eyes. They were just like Roose Bolton's. "Do you know who I am, bastard?" Brynden asked.

"Brynden Stark." The bastard clearly did not like being called a bastard. It was time that someone finally put him in his place before he put an end to his miserable life.

"Only a fool would have believed that he would have stood a chance against such odds, bastard. Did you truly believe that you would have been able to catch me off guard as you did with Ser Rodrik, bastard?"

"Don't call me a bastard," Ramsay Snow snarled. "I am a Bolton, the son of Roose Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort, not a Snow."

"You are a Snow, bastard." Brynden told him and his men held Ramsay down as he tried to lash out at him. Shadow emerged from the darkness and bared his teeth at him. "That makes you a bastard. You are a Snow, not a Bolton, and you will die as what you are, a bastard." He unsheathed Ice and took hold of it with both hands.

Brynden had seen his father do it so many times in the past that he knew what needed to be done. His men forced the bastard's head down as he struggled to glare at him while Shadow growled ready to act if the bastard tried anything. "In the name of Robb Stark, King in the North and of the Trident, by the word of Brynden of House Stark, Prince of Winterfell, I do sentence you to die." He lifted the greatsword high above his head and took off the bastard's head with a single sure stroke.

Blood sprayed out across the ground as the head rolled across it. All that was left now was the Dreadfort. Ser Kyle approached him as he sheathed Ice. "Do we continue as planned, my prince?"

"Raze the castle to the ground until there is nothing left. We're done here."

It was hard to write the Theon POV section since there wasn't much to go on. I just included it to show why Ramsay decided to attack Brynden instead of holing up in the Dreadfort, because we all know that he is not that great of a commander or fighter.

I know, the ending wasn't very satisfying, but well Ramsay doesn't really deserve a satisfying end. I don't think I got Ramsay's character right when I wrote the whole bastard thing, but I suppose it doesn't really matter now as he is dead, well in this story he is.

UPDATE

So for those of you wondering why Brynden wants to raze the Dreadfort, its blood for blood. Ramsay may have been behind the sack of Winterfell, and so Brynden wants to do the same to the Dreadfort in retribution for what was done to his own home. Also Roose's response about Ramsay in Catelyn's POV was the first time when Ser Rodrik had thought he had killed him after he had caught him and Reek, just to clarify if you didn't read the entire thing.

Reviews

Caedmon Cousland: You also have to remember that Asha is a very strong woman as an Ironborn warrior compared to the southern ladies of Westeros. What I meant about Brynden being better than Ramsay and Gregor was that his character is still better than theirs despite his recent actions.

onyxhaider98: Ros went to King's Landing so her character's fate ends up like it did in the show. Even if the other lords supported Brynden, he would never go against his own blood, not to mention that Robb is his twin.

Deiron Lionheart: I've thought about it and really want to try it as I doubt there has ever been an oc pairing with Asha before. Who knows, it might happen and Brynden will have two warrior wives: Asha and Val.

WarBible: Don't forget that they were in a hurry and needed to cross the Twins, they didn't really have much of a choice if they wanted to relieve Riverrun of its siege.

Drakhus Von Carstein: Nothing is ever set in stone my friend.

jean d'arc: You'll just have to wait and see if the Red Wedding will happen or not. My lips are sealed until then.

Vandal: Yes, Sansa will not marry Tyrion as she is not the heir to Winterfell in this story.

KidChaos69: Lol, I think you're the second or third person to give me that praise. And no, I'm still working on a name for the dagger, so thanks for the suggestions.