I had hoped to finish this chapter in time before episode 2 of Game of Thrones aired, but I got stuck with writing Cersei's POV. Not to mention that I was debating about adding a Bran POV so that I could show some of the changes to Winterfell and its household.

Enjoy and review

This was not the first time Melisandre had played this game with the false king, Brynden Stark. She danced the same dance with Stannis Baratheon, back in the beginning. It did not at all surprise her when Brynden Stark had summoned her to his chambers to speak in private. He did not trust her nor love her, but no doubt he was curious about her and hoped to use her as Stannis had. Both Brynden Stark and Stannis Baratheon had no love for one another, that much was clear to her, but they both had a part to play in the war against the Other. That much she had seen in the flames.

Her guards escorted her to the false king's chambers. Stannis had left a dozen of his men behind to serve her when he marched south, but most of them were useless. His Grace had need of every sword, so all he could spare were grey-beards and cripples. One man had been blinded by a blow to his head in the battle by the Wall, another lamed when his falling horse crushed his legs. Her sergeant had lost an arm to a giant's club. Three of her guard were geldings that Stannis had castrated for raping wildling women. She had two drunkards and a craven too. The last should have been hanged, as the king himself admitted, but he came from a noble family, and his father and brothers had been stalwart from the first.

Having guards about her would no doubt help keep the black brothers and northerners properly respectful, the red priestess knew, but none of the men that Stannis had given her were like to be much help should she find herself in peril. It made no matter. Melisandre of Asshai did not fear for herself. R'hllor would protect her.

Two guards in fur cloaks waited for her when they reached their destination. One of them knocked on Stark's door. "Your Grace, Lady Melisandre is here to see you."

"Send her in," the false king said.

"Your guards will have to wait outside, my lady," the guard told her.

"Leave us," Melisandre ordered her guards and they reluctantly obeyed. If she were in any danger, she would have foreseen it.

Once inside, Melisandre spotted Brynden Stark's huge black direwolf, curled up by the fire. She noticed that his wildling queen was not with them. Brynden Stark sat at his desk, studying one of his trophies he had claimed from the Iron Islands. "You wished to see me," Melisandre asked, crossing the room.

"Aye, I did," he replied, and she noticed a letter curled up on his desk by a candle. "Do you know what this is, my lady?" He asked, showing her a horn that was shiny black and twisted, bound about with bands of red gold and dark steel, incised with ancient Valyrian glyphs.

"Where did you get this?" Melisandre asked, running her hand along it. It was a twisted thing, six feet long from end to end, gleaming black and banded with red gold and dark Valyrian steel. The horn was as warm and smooth as fire, and so shiny that she could see a twisted likeness of her own features in its depths.

"I claimed it from a man named Euron Greyjoy, the last King of the Iron Islands before I killed him," Brynden Stark replied. He noticed her studying the Valyrian glyphs. "Can you read them?"

"I can," she replied, pointing at one of the glyphs. Here the horn is named. ' I am Dragonbinder, ' it says. Have you ever heard it sound?"

"No," the false king said, frowning. "No one has dared to blow the horn, including me."

"A wise decision," Melisandre turned the horn, examining the glyphs that crawled across a second of the golden bands. "Here it says, ' No mortal man shall sound me and live. ' "

Brynden Stark chuckled. "Then what is the point of the horn if you can't use it?"

Melisandre pointed to a band of steel. "Here ' Blood for fire, fire for blood. ' "

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Who blows the hellhorn matters not. The dragons will come to the horn's master. The master of the horn must claim it with blood, but I take it that this is not the reason why I was summoned here."

"No, it is not," Brynden Stark admitted, taking the horn off the desk and storing it away. "I care not about what happened to Renly Baratheon as the Baratheons mean nothing to me anymore, but my mother believes that your king had the man killed with a shadow and fears that the same fate will befall upon me. I trust you and your king knows what will happen to you all should anything happen to me."

We will all be put to the sword, Melisandre remembered the false king's warning when her king had reluctantly agreed to an alliance with Brynden Stark. Both men had refused each other's terms, coming close to shedding blood until Lord Commander Jon Snow had convinced them to set their differences aside to face their common enemy together.

"You need not fear us, Brynden Stark. King Stannis understands the importance of this alliance as should you." Only together could they hope to prevail against the coming darkness. She left those words unsaid as she knew that Brynden Stark would not wish to hear them, no doubt believing that he could defeat this threat on his own.

Brynden smirked. "Well now I will be able to sleep easily for now on." She did not at all fail to notice the look he gave her when he made his way to the door.

He wants me, Melisandre realized. He did not at all love her or trust her, but he wanted her. Brynden Stark did not seem to mind her presence and was not at all like Stannis, who was uncomfortable around women and saw them as another entirely different race.

"Thank you for your time, my lady. Will you need an escort back to your chambers?" Brynden Stark asked, as he opened the door.

"I will be fine. Should you need me, you know where to find me." She smiled at him before taking her leave. Melisandre prayed to R'hllor that they would see another day as she made her way back to her chambers.

"That cannot be true." Cersei couldn't believe it when she had learned that Lannisport had been sacked and plundered, with the Lannister fleet burned or captured. Damn the Starks, Cersei cursed, wishing her father had finished Brynden Stark off the same way he had done with Robb Stark instead of allowing the Stark boy to flee back to the north. To make matters worse the northerners had decided to stay in the west and sack other castles.

"I'm afraid it is, Your Grace," Qyburn said with his hands hidden up his sleeves. "Ser Daven reports that the Blackfish is leading the northern army."

Daven, he was the one to blame for this. Cersei had named him Warden of the West after her uncle had refused to serve as Hand of the King, causing her to leave the defense of the westerlands in Daven's hands. "It is a long voyage from the north to Lannisport," she pointed out. "How could their ships come all that way without being seen?" Her father should have put a tighter security around Lannisport after the last attack when the Greyjoys had burned the Lannister fleet at anchor.

"No doubt they devised a similar strategy to the one the Ironborn used during Greyjoy's Rebellion, Your Grace," Orton Merryweather pointed out.

If only her uncle Kevan had accepted the position as Hand of the King they would not be in this mess. They had been so focused on taking Stannis's last strongholds in the south that they had forgotten about the north when they had fled from the riverlands after the red wedding with their tails tucked behind their legs. She had hoped that Brynden Stark and Stannis Baratheon would fight each other at the Wall, but that had proven to be in vain when they had made common cause with the wildling savages.

This was all but a ploy to distract her and her forces from Dragonstone and Storm's End, Cersei knew. Still, she knew that she could not afford to allow the northerners to do as they pleased in the west. Should she do nothing the western lords would see her as weak and she was anything but weak. She had no choice but to ask for the Reach's aid, with her brother and Lord Redwyne invested at Dragonstone.

She turned her attention to Ser Loras. "How many men can your brothers raise, Ser Loras?"

"Willas and Garlan can raise ten thousand men within a fortnight and twice that in a moon's turn, Your Grace," Ser Loras replied.

Those numbers should be more than enough to deal with the northern army the Blackfish was leading in the west. Stannis Baratheon and Brynden Stark were fools if they believed she would fall into their trap. They may have drawn the first blood in the west, but Cersei would be the one to emerge as the victor. "Send word to your brothers to raise their armies at once," she commanded. "They are to march to the Golden Tooth and from there they will deal with the northerners in the west."

"Your Grace should consider sending word to Lord Redwyne to raise his sails and deal with this Winter Fleet," Ser Harys Swyft wheezed.

She had almost forgotten about the northern fleet the Starks had after they had taken the ships of the Iron Fleet at the Fever River. Paxter Redwyne owned two hundred warships, and five times as many merchant carracks, wine cogs, trading galleys, and whalers. Redwyne was encamped beneath the walls of Dragonstone, however, and the greater part of his fleet was engaged in ferrying men across Blackwater Bay for the assault on that island stronghold. The remainder prowled Shipbreaker Bay to the south, where only their presence prevented Storm's End from being resupplied by sea. His fleet would be more than enough to deal with the Stark fleet, but she could not risk it until Dragonstone was taken.

"No," Cersei snapped. "If Lord Redwyne sails his ships away, how are we to supply our men on Dragonstone? Without the Arbor's galleys, how will we maintain the siege of Storm's End?"

"The siege can be resumed later, after—"

Cersei cut him off. "While this Winter Fleet does pose a threat to the west along with the Blackfish's army, Storm's End is a hundred times more valuable than a few castles in the west we can easily recapture later, and Dragonstone . . . so long as Dragonstone remains in the hands of Stannis Baratheon, it is a knife at my son's throat. We will use Lord Redwyne and his fleet when the castle falls." It was the western lords' own fault for failing to hold their castles against the northerners. The queen pushed herself to her feet. "This audience is at an end."

Enjoy your small victories while you can, Stark. Once she was done with her enemies in the south, Cersei would do what her father had failed to do and finish the Starks off before naming a new loyal Warden of the North for her son.

It was times like these that Bran missed Ser Rodrik and Maester Luwin. As he sat through another meeting with his brother's bannermen in the Great Hall as they came to witness Larence Snow be legitimized as a Hornwood and be named as the new Lord of the Hornwood. He wished that he was at sea with his uncle the Blackfish or at the Wall with Brynden and Jon, but he was his brother's heir now and the Stark in Winterfell while Brynden was at the Wall dealing with the wildlings and his mother was sailing to the Vale of Arryn with Sansa to wed her to the heir to the Eyrie.

Winterfell did not at all feel the same to him despite the builder's best attempts to repair all the damages Ramsay Snow had done during the sack. The household had also changed since Brynden had been hailed as King in the North following Robb's fall in the red wedding. A few members from the household of his mother's home had come from Deepwood Motte to replace those they had lost in the sack. Ser Desmond Grell had taken over Ser Rodrik's duties as master-at-arms and Ser Robin Ryger had joined their household guards as second-in-command to Hallis Mollen. They were one of the few from the riverlands to abandon the Trident and follow his brother north.

Not for the first time, Bran couldn't help but wonder how much the war had changed his brother. He never knew someone like his loving and caring brother could be the Demon of the North, slaughtering all of the inhabitants of the Iron Islands, even if many people in the north agreed with his actions. They however had been none too pleased when they learned that their king had allowed the wildlings through the Wall and taken one of them as his wife and their queen. Osha had been surprised when she had learned of his brother's actions, saying she never thought she would see the day when her people would be allowed south of the Wall.

The Glover men from Deepwood Motte soon arrived, along with a large party of Tallharts from Torrhen's Square. The Tallharts had been none to pleased with their king's decision to legitimize Larence Snow when Leobald Tallhart's sons had hoped to receive the castle and its lands, with their mother being a sister to the late Lord Halys Hornwood.

"My prince, it is time," Maester Tybald told Bran from his side. The maester had entered into the service of Winterfell following the downfall of House Bolton, and had replaced Maester Luwin, taking charge of the ravens and messages. The other maesters that had been summoned to Winterfell had been sent back to their respective castles.

Bran nodded and rose from his seat. He had no choice but to play his part as the Prince of Winterfell while Brynden was away. "Larence Snow," he called out, and the sons of Leobald Tallhart frowned when they heard his name called.

A boy about fourteen years, taller than Bran, stepped forward, standing in front of Bran, Maester Tybald, and Ser Kyle Condon. Bran remembered not that long ago when Ser Rodrik had questioned the steward of Deepwood Motte about Larence Snow, with the steward praising the lad's wits and courage. "My prince," Larence Snow sunk to his knees.

"Larence Snow, here in sight of gods and men, do you swear your loyalty to House Stark to serve as our bannermen and come to our aid whenever called upon?"

"I do, my prince."

"Then by the royal decree of His Grace, Brynden Stark, Lord of Winterfell and King in the North, you are hereby named Lord of the Hornwood and from this day until your last you are Larence Hornwood, son of Lord Halys Hornwood. You knelt as a Snow now rise as a Hornwood, my lord."

"Thank you, my prince," Lord Larence Hornwood said, rising to his feet.

"It has also been decided that with the death of Daryn Hornwood, you shall wed Alys Karstark in his place." Those were their customs. With Daryn Hornwood's death, it fell onto Larence Hornwood to take his brother's place.

"I shall honor the agreement my lord father made with the Karstarks of Karhold, my prince," Larence Hornwood vowed.

"Then if there is nothing else, this meeting is done," Bran announced. He only hoped that his brother knew what he was doing and that Larence Hornwood was up to the task of being a lord.

Val had taken the news of his bastard better than Brynden would have believed she would have taken it. She was a woman of the Free Folk, Brynden reminded himself, knowing that a woman from the south like his mother would not at all be pleased to hear that he had a bastard and would not want them to be raised in their household alongside their trueborn children. Still, Brynden was surprised when Val told him that in their culture Asha would have been his wife as he had taken her to his bed by force and claimed her for himself. That was not at all how Brynden saw it and he couldn't believe how easily Val had shrugged off the fact that he had a bastard.

"I was never yours when you took this Greyjoy woman into your bed so why should I care about your daughter," Val had told him. Just like that, she had earned his respect for Brynden knew Val would never treat Lyanna the way his mother had treated Jon Snow for she did not care about his daughter being a bastard.

Brynden still had much to learn about the Free Folk and their culture. Even if his bannermen and black brothers did not agree with his and Jon's decision to let the wildlings through the Wall, Brynden found himself sympathizing with the wildlings for it was not their fault when they had been on the other side of the Wall when it had been built. They were just unlucky to be on the wrong side and were fighting for survival. In many ways the Free Folk were more civilized than the Ironborn and would not stab them in the back. He could only hope that in time his bannermen and the brothers of the Night's Watch would accept the Free Folk as their allies and not as their enemies. They would all need to band together when the true threat Jon and Stannis believed came for them.

Those were the least of his worries at the moment however as he waited for his bannermen to arrive in his solar to discuss about the Blackfish's successful attack on Lannisport. Outside, Brynden could hear the sound of arrows being nocked and loosed. One of the first things his brother had done as Lord Commander was institute daily archery drill for the entire garrison, even stewards and cooks. The Watch had been placing too much emphasis on the sword and too little on the bow, he had said, a relic of the days when one brother in every ten had been a knight, instead of one in every hundred.

While he waited, Brynden hoped his mother would be successful in her task to secure an alliance with the Vale. As much as he hated to admit it, the north and the free folk could not hope to match the combined powers of Casterly Rock, Highgarden, and the Twins on their own. Even with Lord Tywin gone, he still would have to worry about their allies.

Despite the odds being against them, Brynden would never stop fighting to secure the North's independence. Just like his bannermen, Brynden had no desire to be ruled by a southron king after everything that had happened to them in the war. Robb was gone, but Brynden would do whatever it took to ensure their freedom from the south. They may not agree with his decision about the Free Folk, but Brynden was certain they knew he was doing everything he could to secure the Kingdom of the North, Robb had died fighting for.

I will be a better king than Robb ever was, Brynden vowed. There were still days that Brynden wished Robb was still here, but he was gone and the north was his to rule and protect now. He couldn't help but wonder what Robb and their father would have done in his place with the wildlings, along with dealing with Stannis Baratheon. His father would have bent the knee to Stannis no doubt, but Brynden had no idea how Robb would have dealt with the southron king. He was already walking on thin ice with his bannermen in dealing with the wildlings, and Brynden already knew how they would react when he told them of his planned mission with Jon to go to Hardhome.

A knock came from the door and Brynden knew that it was time. "Your Grace, Lords Umber, Karstark, Glover, and Mormont are without," Smalljon Umber announced.

"Send them in," Brynden got to his feet as the door swung open and his bannermen entered the room. "Thank you all for coming. I have just received word from my uncle that they were successful in their attack on Lannisport."

"It's about time we've dealt some damage to the Lannisters," the Greatjon said.

"Where is the Blackfish now, Your Grace?" Robett Glover asked.

"He is currently harrying their shorelines," Brynden replied. Just as he had commanded, the Blackfish had brought twenty ravens onboard to keep in contact with him of their current situation. It was only a matter of time before the Lannisters sent a force to deal with them.

"That will certainly get their attention," Harrion noted.

"I have sent word to White Harbor so that Stannis can set sail for Dragonstone. Even with our attacks in the west, I have no doubt the Lannisters will remain focused on Dragonstone, but with Stannis in command of the Manderly fleet, the Redwyne fleet won't stand a chance." Though he had no love for Stannis, Brynden knew the man would be able to come up with a plan to defeat the Redwynes.

"Still, I doubt the Lannisters would divert the men they currently have invested to Dragonstone to the west," Lady Mormont said.

"I would be surprised if they did," Brynden said.

The Greatjon frowned. "Then why attack Lannisport, Your Grace?"

"To send the Lannisters a message. The north remembers and the Lannisters aren't the only ones who pay their debts back," Brynden replied. Even if the Trident was no longer part of their kingdom, Brynden would make the Lannisters suffer the same devastation to their lands just as the riverlands had during the war.

Harrion grinned. "Then the rest is up to Stannis."

Now here comes the hard part. "There is also another matter I wished to discuss with you all, my lords. It is about the wildlings."

Just like that, his bannermen frowned at the mention of their new allies. This would not be easy, but if Jon had the courage to tell his black brothers about their mission to Hardhome than so could Brynden.

"What about them?" The Greatjon asked.

"We all know of the host that has gathered around Tormund Giantsbane, but there is another that has gathered at Hardhome. The Lord Commander and I have decided to go there and bring them back here to join the rest of their people south of the Wall."

"You mean to let more of these savages through?" Harrion asked.

"One of those savages is your queen, my lord." They are my people now, just as much as all of you. Even if his lords did not like it, the Free Folk were his responsibility now and if he could save more of them then he would. "If we do nothing they will starve and die." And become wights if what Jon told him was to be believed. He still had his doubts, but Brynden trusted his brother even if what he had told him sounded mad.

"They chose their fate when they decided to go to that cursed place," Greatjon growled. "Why should we waste our resources to rescue them?"

They are all fools. "Because of the threat that is coming, my lords. I know it is hard to believe, but I trust my brother. He wouldn't lie about such a threat. I would rather have these savages you call them as allies than foes."

"Once they are behind our Wall and are at full strength they will stab us all in the back when we let our guards down," Lady Mormont said.

"Have you forgotten that we have hostages, my lords? The same terms that I gave to those after the battle beneath the Wall and to Tormund when he arrives will also be given to them. I wanted you all to know that before I leave with the Lord Commander for Hardhome. You are all dismissed." Brynden sat back down at his desk while his lords swiftly took their leave.

Damn you, Jon, Brynden cursed. It was because of Jon and Stannis Baratheon that he was in this mess with his lords. How could he have been so foolish to believe it would be an easy task to unite his people and the free folk? He had hoped that his marriage to Val would help bridge the gap, but even his bannermen seemed to refuse to acknowledge Val as their queen. Even his own guards did not enjoy the thought of accompanying him and Jon to Hardhome to rescue the wildlings.

He smiled when Shadow looked over at him from the brazier. "Looks like we are on our own with this one, boy." Looking at the flames, Brynden was suddenly reminded of the red woman. He also remembered his mother's warning about Renly Baratheon's death. At least he wouldn't have to worry about ending up like Renly anytime soon. The red woman had made that clear as he knew she wouldn't lie about such a thing when her life was in his hands with Stannis leagues away from them.

Later, Brynden was grateful to see Val when she entered their room. "Where have you been?" He asked as she hung her cloak.

"Out watching the crows practice with their bows," Val replied, making her way over to him.

Brynden smiled. "Well at least one of us was enjoying themselves."

He did not at all resist when Val pulled him to his feet. After his meeting with his bannermen, Brynden needed a release to keep his mind off things. He quickly undid her bodice and it fell to the ground in a puddle around her. He was not at all surprised to see that Val was not wearing a brassiere underneath her bodice.

"Looks like someone is getting excited down there," Val whispered into his ear, gently brushing her hands against his breeches where his member was bulging.

"I'm not the only one," Brynden grinned, feeling how wet Val's sex was.

"I take it your lords did not agree with your decision to go to Hardhome with Lord Crow," Val said while undoing his breeches.

"They would prefer to sit back and do nothing," Brynden sighed, burying his face into her neck, taking in her sweet scent while he grasped her breasts. "I was a fool to believe that our marriage could help heal centuries of bad blood between our people."

"I warned you that it would not be easy," Val moaned as he slid one of his hands down her thighs and jammed two fingers up inside her.

"I know," Brynden groaned, feeling Val's soft hands stroke his manhood.

Val then gave a startled squeal when he lifted her off from the ground by the waist to seat her on his desk. He ignored the mess they made when parchments and letters scattered off the desk. Before they could continue, both Brynden and Val stopped what they were doing when they heard a noise from outside. "That was a horn," Brynden noted.

From the brazier, Shadow pricked up his ears. "Crows," Val wondered, her body tensing up.

"Hopefully," Brynden said. One blast was for Rangers returning.

Then it came again. The sound seemed to fill the solar. "Two blasts," Val whispered. Wildlings, Brynden hoped.

Nothing could be heard from outside and Brynden was certain that northmen, black brothers, and free folk were all waiting in silence, listening. An eternity seemed to pass until Brynden sighed in relief. "Two blasts." Mance.

Tormund Giantsbane had come at last.

So I know that it is a bit early to ask, but I was wondering what name you guys think I should give to Brynden and Val's firstborn son and heir. I'm leaning towards Cregan as I think that Cregan Stark would be a fitting name for a King in the North, but I'm also thinking about Harlon, Artos, and Rodrik. Let me know what you guys think, but so far I am definitely leaning towards Cregan as the future heir of House Stark.

Reviews

Dipsyy: At least 20, 30 or maybe more. Don't take my word for it as I'm not certain yet, but as long as I am just focused on this story, I'll probably finish it before GRRM ever publishes The Winds of Winter, lol.

mpowers045: Unlike Jon, Lyanna is part of Catelyn's family, so she will definitely be treated better than Jon was because she is her son's daughter.

Old one Griffin: There are already a few Giants that settled on the Gift when they were captured along with Mance at the battle beneath the Wall. The others will be with Tormund's host.

FractiousDay: The raven Catelyn sent is different than the one she sent to Brynden before. I just didn't mention it last chapter because they were focused on different things at the moment.

Stannisfan: I wouldn't call it a bad decision. And Cat is a good negotiator, as like jean said, she was able to get someone like Walder Frey to join their cause at the time when he could have remained loyal to the Crown or remain neutral in the war.

jean d'arc: Thanks, I'm definitely going to be showing more of what's going on in the different fronts in later chapters as I diverge more from the books.

Friendlystranger: Thanks for the suggestion, but I think I'll just keep it as Asha dying from childbirth. As for the action, like I told Blaze earlier, the battles won't be until like the end of the fourth book.

Kazetoame: Still a better match than Tyrion, Joffrey, or Ramsay, IMO. Sansa's match to Harrold helps bring the Vale to his cause, and that's what Brynden needs at the moment. Unlike Robb, Brynden understands that marriages are meant to build alliances not about love, and Brynden is the head of his house, so Sansa doesn't really get a say in this matter.