Oops, Sorry. I don't plan on being this late with a chapter again. We're trying to wrap up some home remodelling before winter comes again, and that takes up a bit of time. But I think I should manage to keep my stories coming now that I've adjusted my desk to be of normal height, instead of being an oversized bedside table :)
Anyways onto the story.
DISCLAIMER: I do not own, nor do I work on ASOIAF or Game of Thrones. This is just for fun and to work on Grammar in a more fun way.
They'd just broken their fast when Jon and Marlon studied the landscape around Moat Cailin, the swamps around it would help prevent anyone from hitting its rear. But a few catapults or trebuchets would be all that the Frey's would need to turn the towers into rubble.
"We're of course focusing our efforts on the outer Southern walls, and the Southern portions of the Eastern and Western walls." Marlon tells him as they walk alongside the inner ramparts, the Crannogmen, while not used to working with stone are efficient builders and with the training and oversight from the men from White Harbour are quickly changing parts of the wall every day. He expects that by the time they engage the Frey's that at least what Marlon tells him about should be done.
"Good, I hope your men will be able to create new gates to be put up with the new gatehouses?" Jon questions.
"Aye, my Cousin will bring with him the portcullises that I ordered when I first assessed the situation here. The gates will, of course, be done in time as well."
"Good, we'll need every edge we can get to hold the castle." Jon tells him as he walks over to assess the work on the Tower of the First Men. As it was already torn down, all he could see was the work being done to improve its foundations and then barely widened by two or three blocks, though he had a feeling that the tower would not be any bigger by the time it got to the height of the wall.
Sansa enters the smith shortly after breaking her fast. It had snowed again trough out most of the night, but the guards kept the courtyard mostly clear so her dress and cloak was not too wet and soggy.
Though, Ghost seemed to love it. Had he missed the snow he saw North of the Wall?
"My Lady." She heard Mikken say slowly as he noticed her presence in his workshop.
"Mikken." Sansa says with a smile and a nod in his direction before her gaze journeys to the new smith. Somehow, someway he'd convinced Jon that he was trustworthy.
But he's proven himself to not always being the best judge of character. But she'd find out. One way or another if he was trustworthy.
"I'll just need a few moment with your apprentice." She tells the older man as she looks at him working. He seems to be working on a plate now. Odd, besides the lands of the Manderly's, few if any of the North uses that. Besides the few Lords here and there.
"Once he's finished this step of that gorget, you're free to talk with him." Mikken tells her.
"Good." Sansa mutters. She's truly glad that the smithy is so warm, if it wasn't, she's sure she'd be freezing. For not to say Mikken. The man is old, having been one of the few men that's lived trough three generations of Starks means that he's seen quite a lot. As seen by the designs on the new Scabbard for Longclaw.
Just as her patience was waning she heard Mikken yell out. "Take a break, the Lady wants a word with you."
"What does the Lady want?" She hears the man ask as he comes forward. He was clearly broad chested and strong. And his accent sounded deftly Crownlandish.
He's got short black hair that barely reaches past his ears. And Blue eyes, not unlike what she could recall Renly's was.
"Walk with me?" She questions. She trusts Ghost to keep her safe. Especially as he's proven himself to be able to sniff out potential traitors already.
"If that's what My Lady wants." He says though Sansa can't help but wonder if there was a question in there somewhere.
She answerers with a simple nod as she leaves the smithy and walks slowly towards the Godswood. She looks back and sees him walking very carefully as Ghost matches him step by step. His blood red eyes sizing up the man, not as an enemy, but as a potential ally, and as a rival.
As soon as she sees the Heart Tree Sansa stops walking so hurriedly and turns once more to look at the man.
"What's your name, ser?"
"I am no Knight, my lady."
"I've seen Knight's not worthy of that title. And I've seen Wildlings worthy of it. I'll choose for myself who to call 'ser' or not to call 'ser'. Ser."
"Fair enough, My Lady. My name is Gendry Waters, My Lady."
"Who's your father?" She asks curiously. Though also hesitantly, she can't help but feel as if it's too much asking that of somebody she doesn't even know.
"Robert Baratheon. Robert Baratheon was my sire." He tells her.
"You look quite a bit like his younger brother, though, as muscular as people often said Robert was in his youth." Sansa told him with a small smile.
He seems to try to smile, but not being able to hold it. "Yeah, so I heard once. Is there something else, my Lady?"
"Why does my brother trust you?" She asks cautiously.
"A shared love. I think. Of your sister. She was a good girl, I headed here as that was where I knew she'd head towards." He told her.
"Arya? Why're you talking past tense? Last we heard she was alive." Sansa reveals.
"When?" He asks fervently.
"Half a year ago, Brienne said she saw her near the Saltpans."
"Then… Then she could not have been at the Twins. She would've been caught if she travelled that fast." The man says slowly. A true smile slowly making it's way to his face.
She's not sure why, but Ghost's piercing scrutiny of the man seemed warranted to her. She did not trust him. Not yet at least.
Dany is standing at the front of her ship as it closes in on Dragon Stone, the place where she was born. The place her mother had died. The place she had to flee before she got to know, because The Usurper feared children.
Her Dragons had circled the castle for the last few hours as the ships got into position. She would not let the Baratheon dogs that lived there escape.
But already as her ship and one of the ships filled with Unsullied closed in on the harbour she was in for a surprise. The castle was flying a Targaryen banner, and so was the Harbour master's cabin. She could see the yellow of the Baratheon banner, with a flicker of red and orange above the black stag, lying in the half dry mud.
As she and Greyworm, as well as the Unsullied from her ship, walked up the docks she could not help but feel ill at ease here. It might have been her home once, but she did not think she could ever feel at home in such a desolate place. As they closed in on the castle itself, the feeling tripled. She loved her dragons, they were likely to be the closest she'd ever get to children. But, the decorations she saw alongside the castle was beyond just honouring the Dragons. It was deifying them. Her ancestors viewed the dragons as Gods?
As she entered the castle, that feeling did not disappear. Even with her Unsullies surrounding her, she felt half afraid of what would happen when they entered the Lords Hall. While it was impossible to say that the Baratheon lord had done his best to get rid of or hide the Targaryen decorations in this hall, he had failed miserably. While she could see that the chair that now took the Lords position in the seating arrangements on the dais. She could tell that the ones that had done this had a hard time getting it back in place before her arrival.
Even now, it would seem. As the dozen or so men and women that flitted about getting rid of Baratheon items, and putting Targaryen items back in place.
"My Queen. I am Varyon, Master Varys appointed me as Steward of Dragonstone- to care for it in your stead." One of the men proclaimed. He had muddy brown hair, dressed in relatively fine cloth she imagined. It was hard to tell when she herself was so used to seeing everyone wear nothing but silks, and fine cloth and more exotic fabrics. Unless you were unfortunate enough to end up a beggar or a really poor freeman, then you'd at least wear cloth as fine as this man.
His clothes were black, with silver and red dealings winding around themselves.
"Varyon? I thought that was a Valyrian name." Dany questions slowly as she looks around the room. She may not like how her ancestors worshipped the dragons, but this room, this room made her think it could not be all that bad.
"It is, your grace." The man tells her as he turns around. She barely stifles a gasp as she sees his eyes. They are dark, dark enough to be mistaken for blueish black. But she can see it. His eyes have the purple colouring of her house.
"Do not be afraid, your grace. My House has looked after yours since the Doom. Over the centuries we've waned. But we've never forgotten." He tells her, and if it wasn't for the secrets that seemed to come out of the woodwork these days, she'd believed him. But for now, she'd patiently observe and figure out how much of what he said was true, and how much was false.
Brienne was not sure what was going on, they'd been moving as close to the Kings Road as they dared while not being easily seen. But tonight they were not moving, they heard Wolves howl. As they sat there in the forest and looked out at the Kings Road, Brienne could not help but wonder what was going on, as all that she'd heard indicated that most if not all wolves in the Riverlands had been migrating northward. But now, she saw what was going on, this wolf pack was led by a direwolf. A direwolf that was ridden by a woman, probably no older than Sansa. But, this one seemed to be built for fighting.
"What's going on?" Podrick asks as he sees it too.
"Nothing good, I'd imagine." Brienne answers automatically, as she truly did not know. This did not seem good at all.
TheElementalist: I just don't like her (Nor do we know enough about her purpose or magic for her to be usable, beyond being a foil of sorts for Jon and his people), and I still think the whole sacrifice thing will end up coming back to haunt them on the show. Either that or Arya will kill her early in the next season for taking Gendry away.
Marvelmyre: Ah, OK :) Yeah, now that you mention it, the terrain they get is always so spectacularly picture perfect.
Well all of us can't love the same things. It was just the first comparison that came to mind.
Danyswan: Thank you :) But as I'm doing these fanfics as a way to improve my grammar, it will be in the forefront of my mind especially when someone tells me that there's something, in particular, I need to work on.
Anyways, next chapter should be a bit longer, just some things that needed to happen before the siege of Gulltown and such.
Also, I'll start to just PM those of you I can with responses. Less 'padding' down here by doing that.