Mirror Notes: Somewhere along the way the roman numerals got screwed up. These are placeholder chapter names until I go back through and fix them all up. Nothing to do with the story.

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LXXIX: Of Kings, Wolves and Ravens, Part 4

AC 300, King's Landing, The Crownlands

Theon Greyjoy
- - - - - -

The specific planning for the structure of the Commonwealth was something I only contributed the basics of. Rule of law was the main focus, but provisions put in place to keep any one faction involved having too much power: Even the common people. As it was, the legal precedents were primarily based on the Grand Council concept. In this case, the majority of the lords seemed all right with that. With a "Supreme Warden" to be elected by the council representatives with the power of that decision imbued in them by their Lord Paramounts.

Well, Kings now, I suppose. Though with the trade and tax levels staying largely the same, the economic infrastructure of Westeros wasn't changing too quickly.

The biggest changes though were going to be in the actual legal framework of the kingdoms. And thank God I wasn't involved with that: I'd shoved it onto Lord Judge Ondrew Locke of Deepwood Motte. He was the supreme judge of the North, and was a hell of a lawyer to boot.

It was going to take time. A lot of time. Thankfully though, not my problem. Unless it went wrong.

... It was probably going to go wrong. Until then though?

"No," I said flatly. Robb scowled.

"Theon, come on!"

"No," I stated again, flipping through Varys' records. He'd kept them, meticulously and well organized. I was very impressed, but not too surprised.

"The North requires a representative on the Grand Council, who better for the post than you?" Robb asked, scowling over the table.

"Give it to Lord Bolton. He's fair," I said. "Also scary. Good combination."

"Roose Bolton is not my brother in all but blood!" Robb protested. "I need someone I can trust absolutely!"

"So, you don't trust Lord Roose?" I asked, skipping ahead in the records with a frown. "Terrible handwriting," I muttered.

"I do," Robb said, "but I think that as the man who brought us to all of this, you would be the perfect choice!"

I sighed and put down the papers, looking up at Robb.

"Then why don't you become King of Westeros? You'd be the perfect choice," I said. "Honorable, honest, war hero-"

"I didn't knock over the Iron Throne to become the next tyrant!" Robb growled. "This isn't what this was about!"

"Technically we didn't knock it over," I pointed out. "It's still there. I mean, I have enough thermite for-"

Robb growled deeply, and slammed his hands on the table. I sighed, and looked up.

"Your eyes are yellow," I said. "Did you know that?"

"I... Wha?" Robb started, and pulled out his lighter. He examined himself in the shiny material of the metal, eyes widening. "I... They are... But how-?"

"Most likely?" I said smoothly, pressing my hands together into a steeple shape on the table, "you're a warg, Robby. You have a magic connection with your Direwolf."

Robb gaped at me. "I-"

"And no, I'm not terribly surprised because Bran's a warg and possibly a greenseer," I went on. "In fact, most of the Stark family seems to demonstrate warg-like abilities. They come in handy?"

"I... Yes...?" Robb managed. He shook his head. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I'm a scientist, Robb," I said, rolling my eyes. "And it kept you alive. So why complain about it?"

Robb scowled. "... All of that aside," he groaned, "I don't see what it has to do with you not wanting to assume a role of incredible power and authority..." He stopped, and shut his eyes tightly. "I just answered my own question, didn't I?" Robb muttered.

I gave him a sarcastic clap. "Very good, Your Grace," I said dryly. "I mean, shit, how much paperwork do you do for the North andthe Riverlands?"

"Too much," Robb muttered. I nodded.

"Well do you want to do paperwork for seven whole kingdoms?"

"This is how you'll sell true democracy to the nobility, isn't it?" Robb groaned, his hands over his face. "I can see it now... The diabolical stacking of paperwork, to bloodlessly encourage the lords to give up their powers."

I blinked at Robb. I scratched my head.

"... That's a really good idea!" I said cheerfully. "I mean, we'll need a large population of literate people who can own their own property first, so that won't happen for another generation or two, but hey! It's the perfect way to allow it to progress."

"Don't let it get around, you'll be strung up and burned," Robb grumbled. I shrugged. Robb sighed. "All right... I will have Lord Bolton serve for a time."

"And you'll want to get out of here before they elect you 'Supreme Warden'," I said with a smile. "In fact, that's probably going to happen."

Robb groaned, and sat at the table. He buried his face in his hands. "Why did I come up with such a stupid, stupid idea?" He grumbled. I reached out and patted him on the shoulder, gently.

"Because you're the right man for the job," I said, shrugging. We sat in silence for a time, as I continued my research into Varys' notes and background information. It was remarkably thorough: Even included a few photographs of Cersei, Sansa, and other members of the Royal Court who had vanished with the Red Keep's destruction.

As well as records of who Tyrion had contacted to secure passage for the Royal Family, in case... Well, what had happened, happened.

Robb slowly looked up at me, sighing. "... How do you do it?" He asked. I looked up.

"Hm?" I grunted.

"How do you... Do you jape and joke like this? After everything we've been through," he asked quietly. "With all the responsibilities... All the blood..."

I set the papers down. I sighed deeply, and looked past Robb's shoulder. The look on my face must have been disturbing, since he stared intensely.

"... Robb," I began, "I am probably the cause of more deaths in the history of Westeros' wars than anyone else combined. The primary reason the Westerlands and the Stormlands are being so cooperative with us is because most of their knights are dead.And my weapons, my technology... That's what allowed it to happen." I looked down at the papers again, twiddling my thumbs. "I know, intellectually, that it isn't mypersonal fault. I did not order every trigger pulled. I did not cut off our father's head, bringing this war about... But the fact it, I made it possible. And I have to live with that... As does everyone else."

I looked up at Robb again, but couldn't quite meet his eyes. "... Science has not shown me one bit of kindness, or joy, or love in this universe," I said firmly. "Not one atom's worth. So I can either act like those things don't exist... Or I can try to make them come true. I mean... What else can I do? You need someone to joke. You need someone to help you, and be your brother, or you'll be a bad king... And I need to believe that there are reasons for joy and laughter in the universe, or... I'm just Death. Destroyer of Worlds."

Robb stared at me. Without a word, he rose up, and circled around. He hugged me, and I hugged him. We sat in silence, just two brothers, together, who had changed the world.

And in a way, it was me saying good bye to the old memories of my world. Not entirely... But accepting that this was who I am. Who I was. Theon Greyjoy. The Boomsquid. The Genius.

And Robb Stark's brother.

"Excuse me, Your Grace, My Lord," said Varys, and we looked up to see the fat eunuch standing there with a smile. Robb pulled away, and stood up straight.

"Yes, Lord Varys?" Robb asked.

It was a courtesy, really. Varys officially had no role right now. Tyrion was angling for him to be the Master of Whispers for the Grand Council, and I had accepted this. We still needed his intel: Now more than ever.

"Some general news," Varys spoke, walking over and standing before us in a stance of respect. "Prince Martell and his entourage are soon to dock, as is Lord Baelish. Lord Mace Tyrell arrives with a great host. The final Council Deliberations are being worked out: For the time being, it will meet in a room above the Great Hall."

Varys took another breath. "Lord Umber and Lord Manderly's construction companies have both submitted proposals for the new Grand Council complex in the Dragonpit. The fire damage to Flea Bottom would allow for a great deal of reconstruction..."

"And they won't be the last," I said with a smile to Robb. "I think House Mormont will also send their Mechmen with a proposal?"

"That fast?" Robb asked, shaking his head. "I suppose that many Guild members with the Armies made it a simple matter to survey."

Robb scowled. He clearly didn't want to be seen to be taking advantage of the Southerners. Good for him.

"Also, a missive from Castle Black," Varys stated smoothly, handing it over. "Upon microfilm, I believe it is called?"

Robb reached out his hand. I held out a magnifying glass. He slid the missive under it, and read through it. His face turned pale. Varys raised an eyebrow, as did I.

"Your Grace?" Varys asked.

"Impossible," Robb muttered. "I... It says that the White Walkers...," he looked up at us, "have returned."

Well it was about fucking time! Was what I was thinking. I wisely kept it to myself.

Varys hummed. "Your Grace," he said, "while my little birds do indeed sing songs of strange things happening at the Wall, to suggest that such things out of legend are returning-"

"Jon write it?" I asked. Robb nodded. "Then it's true."

Varys glanced at me, surprised... And then his face became neutral as I stared back at him. I looked back at Robb, deadly serious.

"You believe it then?" Robb asked. I nodded.

"I believe it," I said.

"... Then we must raise the alarm," Robb said definitely. "Bring the commanders of the army to me: We must march back North and-"

"And! And... No," I said, holding my hands up. "Not yet."

Robb stared at me in confusion. "You believe it-"

"Yes, but given our situation here, I don't think we can outright blurt it out," I stated. Varys hummed.

"I believe what Lord Greyjoy means is that to spread such news now, right after seizing King's Landing and creating a newborn alliance, might be fatal to that same alliance," Varys suggested. I nodded.

"Yeah. That," I said, again wondering if letting him live was a good idea. "At the same time!" I said quickly, cutting off Robb's anger, "we're not going to just ignore it. But we need to do this... Carefully. Slowly. Secretly, to avoid a panic. After all, Jon's word is good enough for us... But for the rest of the Realm?"

Robb grimaced, and looked down at his hands. He thought, considered... I held my breath.

Yes, the White Walkers were coming. Yes, I was Theon the Genius and most people listened to me. Yes, there was a part of me that was demandingthat I make this public and call for soldiers, go into battle. But...

"... You believe this is the right course of action?" Robb asked. I nodded.

"I do," I said. "Besides... We need to know more. Know what these things are capable of... Know if our stuff can even hurt them." I looked over at Varys. "Something we could use your assistance on, Lord Varys. If you deem to offer it?"

"I believe that is within my powers, my Lord," Varys said, still smiling oddly. I didn't know what to make of it. All I had was the assurance that if he did anything, a bullet would quickly end his life. But how much damage could he do before then...? "In fact, information gathering is all the more vital. According to legend... Dragon fire was able to stop the White Walkers. And how convenient that there is a set of dragons across the sea, near where the former Queen and Princess Sansa are heading?"

"... Very convenient," I said dryly. "And not very subtle."

Varys shrugged, hands in his sleeves. "It's all in how one presents oneself, my Lord," Varys said gently.

We both looked at Robb. He sighed, and nodded.

"If you think this is the way to do it, Theon... Then I agree," he said. Robb frowned. "It also makes what I plan to do about... Another problem much, much easier."

"Oh? Which one?" I asked. Robb managed a small smile.

"Stannis."

LXXX: Of Kings, Wolves and Ravens, Part 5

AC 300, King's Landing, The Crownlands

Theon Greyjoy
- - - - - -

"Eddie, Robb," I began, standing on the stinking docks of King's Landing, "no."

"Funny, I remember Jon being the one to tell you that when we were growing up. Frequently," Robb said in amusement, as Eddie Karstark fiddled with one of the new "airboats" delivered by Northern ship. He had finished the assembly at the crack of dawn, and was almost all ready to go with it an hour or two later.

Which is, coincidentally, when Robb had told me about this idea.

"One, Jon didn't know what the hell he was talking about: He knows nothing,remember?" I said flatly, but I was a little relieved to be able to joke about Jon. I didn't know if my butterflies had made it more or less likely for him to survive, and fighting a White Walkernow?!

I mean, he didn't have any proof, but I knew he wasn't going to lie about something thatawesome.Just not tell the whole thing. He was much like Ned had been, in that respect.

"Two," and I raised a finger up as Robb eagerly pulled on a flight cap and goggles, "you admitted that Stannis invited you to come to Dragonstone. You reallywant to fly there in something he could take out with one shot?"

"Hey! That was lucky!" Eddie shouted, as he slammed a hammer against the engine. His Gearwife, Bri-something, rolled her eyes as she continued checking the wires and ropes holding the gas bag to the skiff.

"Yes Eddie, it was, and I am very impressed one of them made it down here under its own power," I shouted back apologetically. "But how bad would it look on your resume if the King died when he's just won the war? On the thing that helped him win it?"

Eddie frowned. "... I will admit, the thought had not occurred," he said. His Gearwife snorted, and he scowled at her. "Come on!"

"Theon, look," Robb said, placing a hand on my shoulder. "I doubt Stannis is just going to try for an assassination on me at this stage. Do you think that fits his character?"

"Renly," I said. Robb nodded, sighing in the way he knew he'd said something stupid. I spared him the "Stark talk" this time though.

"Okay... But like you say: Different context. Would he do that when he has no chance of victory? At all?"

"Also, you're still flying in something that will burst into flames with one hit," I stated. "Just to show him up? That'll impress him."

"I have to impress on him that things have changed," Robb insisted. "What better way than to arrive in Dragonstone, flying like the Targaeryans of old, in a device built by the second born son of a Northern lord?"

"I get the symbolism," I said, as Eddie cursed loudly about a fuel pump, "but how about this? Let Eddie fly around in his deathtraps-"

"Could you build them better?" Eddie demanded. I just shot him a stare, and was pleased when everyone else in range stared at him. He flushed, and rubbed the back of his head. "Sorry... Stupid question-"

"Eddie! I'm not disparaging your skills," I said with a more gentle tone, "but you have heard the story of when I took the first gun I ever made, mass produced it and gave it to all the soldiers of the North to use?"

"You didn't-Oh. You're being sarcastic," Eddie grumbled. "Thanks."

I shrugged and looked back at Robb. "Just let Eddie work out all the kinks, and show up in something equally impressive, but less likely to kill you, huh?" I pressed my hands together. "Please? For Margaery? And your new baby?"

Robb's eyes widened. "Wait, you mean she's-?!"

Robb actually looked about ready to collapse. I discretely held him up as I hugged him. I really should have gotten a picture of his face at the news... Like I'd promised Margaery.

I'd think of some way to make it up to her.

"Just got a raven this morning," I muttered. "Come on, Father, cool off..."

Robb shook, and then grinned. The biggest, dopiest grin in the known universe. I grinned back, and patted him on the back as he slowly regained his footing.

"I'm... I'm gonna be a father," Robb mumbled. I nodded.

"Yes... Yes you are," I said brightly. "And the best gift for your baby? Not dying in an airship."

"Uh, hello? I'd be flying it too," Eddie protested. I sighed and rolled my eyes, while privately wondering how many of my colloquialisms had infected the Westerosi lexicon. Something to worry about when we weren't all dead from ice zombies.

"Yes Eddie, and I don't want you to die from your flying deathtrap either," I said with a nod. "However! Robb's had a lot more of me shaking my head at him and going 'what did we learn'? than you. So he's better trained." I pulled back. "But! You are more than welcome to try flying above theSeawolfto make our dramatic entrance better. All right?"

"I... I think I'll try that!" Eddie nodded. I nodded back, and clapped Robb on the shoulder. I guided my king and brother from another mother away, towards the docks leading to the launch from the Seawolf.

"See you there, Eddie!" I called back. I sighed as I looked at Robb, who was smiling strangely. "You all right, Your Grace?"

"Yeah... Still... A baby," he just kept grinning like a dork. I chuckled and clapped him on the shoulder.

"We'll celebrate later. For now? We have a runner up king to deal with," I said.

LXXXI: Of Kings, Wolves and Ravens, Part 6

AC 300, Dragonstone, Blackwater Bay

Theon Greyjoy
- - - - - -

Dragonstone was pretty much the most depressing goddamned place I'd ever seen in my life. Yes, POW camps are pretty bad but those had basic sanitation. At least Northern ones.

This place seemed like it had been crafted by the guys behind Arkham Asylum: Creepy gargoyles everywhere, sharp angles and lines that seemed to go on, and everything was dark and dreary. And I swear I could see Gozerian terror dogs among some of the statues.

Ugh. That would just be my luck, wouldn't it? A medieval shithole like Westeros gets Gozer the Gozerian to pay it a visit: And me without my portable nuclear accelerators. Or an A-Bomb.

"Theon? What are you mumbling?" Robb asked. I sighed as I looked back to Robb. The launch we'd taken from the Seawolfwas closing on the dock. A Northern sailor was manning a Bolter at the front of the boat. There were Rocketfaust-armed sailors on the launch as well, all with weapons pointed at the troops waiting for us on the dock.

"Nothing," I replied. I looked over at Meera, who was looking a bit anxious. "How are you feeling, Captain Reed?"

"A little... Concerned," Meera admitted. "Some of the Crannogmen we brought along are... New. And..." She shifted uncomfortably. Robb smiled at her.

"Hero worshiping you?"

Meera nodded. "Yeah. It's... Kind of weird."

"Being paid that much attention? Yeah," Robb said with a nod, patting her on the shoulder. "I've been there. Trust me. Still... You can use the worship to get them to give you their best."

"After all, we can't see any of the Crannogmen who are, presumably, on Dragonstone right now," I said cheerfully. Meera sighed, and scowled up as the sailors tossed a rope to the guys waiting on the dock. They were in front of a man holding a banner with a flaming stag on it. It was obvious Stannis was waiting behind them.

"I can," she grumbled. "They're getting... What's that word, Theon?"

"... Spanked?" I suggested.

"I think she meant reprimanded," Robb muttered. He stepped up, as Ramsay and Dacey Mormont stepped up alongside him. We went up the gangplank, stopping in front of the guards.

"Well Stannis, you wanted me," Robb called out. "Let's hear what you have to say."

The armored guards moved aside, revealing the tall, straight form of Stannis Baratheon. I'd never actually seen him in person, but it was impossible to mistake him for anyone else. Even with the beard he wore. Especially with the beard he wore. It was strange though: He was missing a certain redhot witch.

"What I have to say, King Robb, is simple," Stannis announced, in a clear voice. "I surrender... And wish to discuss terms."

Stannis reached into a satchel, and tossed a small bag at our feet. Robb glanced at Ramsay and Dacey. Dacey nodded, and knelt down to take the bag. She opened it, and poured the contents out into her gloved hand. I stepped up to examine them carefully.

"... Breadcrumbs and salt," I confirmed.

"From a kinslayer, this means next to nothing," Robb stated flatly. "Where's your Scarlet Woman?"

Stannis... Twitched, just a bit. I raised my eyebrow, as Stannis cleared his throat.

"I have sent her back to Essos," Stannis stated. There was obviously a lot more going on with that though. "If you wish me to respect guest right, King Robb, that applies to all guests."

Robb narrowed his eyes. "Then what I'm hearing is that you are notturning her over to me, as outlined in my letter to you."

"No," Stannis stated. "I wish to discuss terms, King Robb. And for the moment, I do not believe you are in a position to refuse me." The balding man looked at Robb with an iron gaze, which my brother from another mother met with equal steel. "After all... Winter is coming,is it not?"

The emphasis he put on the House Stark's words... I felt a chill go down my spine. I glanced at Robb, and back at Stannis. Robb grimaced.

"... Your terms?" Robb demanded.

"Amnesty for the men under my command... My daughter, Shireen, is named as heiress of the Stormlands with Lord Davos Seaworth to serve as her regent," Stannis paused. "And I will go to the Wall and take the Black. We are both aware that I am needed more there than I am here."

Even Stannis's guards seemed surprised by that, though they tried not to give it away. They were very bad at hiding it.

"We need to talk," Robb said. Stannis nodded.

We pulled back a bit, Ramsay and Darcy keeping their weapons on Stannis. Meera was, as usual, nowhere to be seen. Which was comforting.

"Well?" Robb asked. "Do we trust him?"

I frowned. "We need Meera's report first..." I looked at a barrel on the dock. "Hey, Meera? Got an update?"

The barrel said nothing. I sighed, and shrugged over at Robb.

"I guess a barrel would be too obvious..."

"Yes, it would," Meera said, popping up from under the dock. Robb, admirably, didn't jump. I did. Ramsay just smirked as Dacey sighed in annoyance.

"Show off," Darcy muttered.

"Jealous," Meera muttered back. She looked up at me. "There's no sign of the Red Witch anywhere. His wife and daughter are here though. And so is Ser Davos." She looked at Robb. "However, she could be using some kind of magic shit to hide herself."

"Unlikely," I muttered. "He looks a bit... Rattled?"

How was it I could retain memories of my previous life so well after a decade? If it was even real. I still had my doubts. Right, focus...

"Rattled?" Asked Robb. I nodded.

"Yeah... As if his girlfriend just left him," I stated. I shrugged. "Which might as well be the case, given his relationship with his wife."

Robb frowned thoughtfully. He looked up at Stannis, who was still waiting. Robb sighed.

"We can't afford to have any more enemies," Robb muttered. He shook his head. He turned and strode forward, Dacey and Ramsay still covering him. He walked right up to Stannis, who stood his ground. Robb sighed, and shook his head.

"... It will take time to draw up the necessary contract paperwork," Robb said, "but your terms, as stated, are accepted. On one additional condition."

"Yes?" Stannis asked.

"Return of Captain Farrows and any other crewmembers of the Venture,"Robb stated. "Unharmed. And alive."

Stannis nodded. "That is acceptable..." He nodded to Robb. "After all... A king's word is his bond, is it not?"

"We can stay that for one of us," Robb stated.

Stannis looked up at the blimps himself, his eyebrows rising. He shook his head.

"I may have surrendered, King Robb," Stannis stated, "but I remain a king myself. Even without a kingdom. In the end... All that remains... Is duty."

They actually shook hands, tightly grasping the other's wrists, and neither looked very happy about it. Good.

The dramatic moment though was a bit spoiled... As the loud buzz of internal combustion engines broke over the shore. Out of the mists, two airskiffs flew... And surprisingly not bursting into flames. They flew high over the walls of Dragonstone, circling. Stannis watched in amazement.

"I wondered when Eddie was going to get here," I commented. "He's a little late..."

"He'll have to work on it," Dacey observed.

I looked over at Ramsay, who was strangely silent. "Ramsay? Anything to contribute?"

Ramsay sighed. "No... I knew I wasn't going to get to kill anyone on this trip. So why show enthusiasm?"

"Creep people out?" I asked.

Ramsay considered... And grinned menacingly. That got the guards to back up in fear.

"There you go," I said with a nod.

LXXXII: Meanwhile, in Slaver's Bay Part 5

AC 300,Yunkai, Slaver's Bay

Kara Snow
- - - - - -

Kara was trying hard to keep what food she could down, as she took deep breaths. She was being bathed by a few other servants, all wearing the same pitying look. She could read it in their faces, despite the language still being beyond her. She looked back at the mirror in the chamber, taking deeper breaths. Trying to stay calm.

Kara had been sold off to a man in a large, hot home built of red sandstone, along with Lucy and a few other Northerners. He had, at first, seemed almost kind despite the leashes he kept on them all. The home they were brought to was in Yunkai proper, a large red manse with a pretty little fountain in the courtyard. She'd been put to work in the blacksmith's shop, shoeing horses. Thankfully, not as a sex slave: She heard about Northern girls being highly prized for that. Even as a slave, rumors traveled and news spread.

The food was bad, the sleeping quarters were terrible, and if she so much as looked up at one of the men she served, she was struck. Backhanded, like men in the South had done to her mother. She had held back only because of Lucy: She was a servant in the manse itself, arranging flowers, and right by the master. Every time she acted out, Lucy was harmed in turn. She came back down to the slave quarters, bearing the marks from the master when Kara misbehaved and nothing when she was silent.

It was horrible. Kara didn't understand why the master did this. Why he stared at her, leered at her. She was his slave: Why didn't he just... Just take her? What was his game?

And then something happened. The master came down and told Lucy she would be sent off to the whore house he owned. Lucy had broke, pleading desperately, but the master was unmoved. He then looked over at Kara: She had been restraining herself from striking him. The master just smiled.

"You. Service me," he said, "and she," he pointed to Lucy, "stay here. Stay together, yes?"

The smile on his face... It said it all.

This place was all about oppression. The sun beat down on you when the slave master's whip wasn't. The glares of disdain from the masters, and the haunted looks on other girls. Younger girls. It was stifling, from the stinking, uncomfortable sleeping quarters to the horrible food. It was as though all of Yunkai was designed to drain the hope from you. Leave you a hollow husk of the person you were.

This was his way of doing that.

"Apply the oils," said one of the slave women, holding out a pot of oil to her. It smelled of vegetables and flowers, and made Kara want to retch. Not that the smell was unpleasant, but because it was familiar. It reminded her of what her mother had sworn would never be her life.

And here I am...

She rubbed the oils over her body, between her breasts and thighs liberally. She carefully avoided her ever present collar, which had been the only thing she'd been allowed to keep from the quarters. One of the other slave girls combed her hair, sleek and golden. In the mirror, she was looking back at a beautiful woman, surrounded by finery and servants. The city glowed underneath the moon and starlight behind her, an exotic scene far from her regular life.

She remembered when that had been a fantasy of hers, as a little girl. The memory twisted in her gut, and she took more deep breaths to calm herself.

"You. Out," the master barked. The native slavewomen rose and departed, not looking at Kara. Kara remained sitting, still staring at herself in the mirror. The master came up behind her, and cupped her breasts with a lewd grin. Kara took a deep breath.

"There it is," the master hissed. "That look of resignation... Of defeat..." He continued to roughly grope and feel her up, and Kara winced. The master chuckled darkly.

"Yes... That's what I was after," he cooed. "You proud Northern girls... So strong. So defiant... It's no fun to fuck a docile whore, no. Breaking one though? Yesss... That's how it should be," he continued. "From the moment I bought you... I have been waiting for this... Hate me all you like... It just makes me harder..."

Kara reached up, slipping her hands behind the back of her head. She lifted up her hair, and the master took advantage of this to bite her ear. Her breath hitched as the master laughed again.

"And in time... You will appreciate me... Become just what I want you to be," he growled. He sniffed her hair, and made a face. "Ugh... Didn't they wash your hair?"

"They did," Kara said with forced calm, as she pushed a package out from under her collar. As fast as she could, she shoved the mass into his face. The master gagged, and Kara spun around to pin him to the floor. She kept the mass pressed tight against his mouth and nose, as he gagged and tried to cry out. It did him no good: The substance soaking the hair mass was doing its job, and soon his struggles ceased entirely.

"That was formaldehyde you smelled," she said softly, standing up to avoid inhaling any of the substance. She seized the mass and held it far away from her mouth. She shuddered a bit, and yanked the master's clothing off. She pulled it on, and ran to the door. She opened it up, trying to put a coquettish look on her face for the guard waiting outside...

Only to meet Thom, one of the other slaves, and Lucy. Both were armed, and the guard was dead at their feet. Kara took a deep breath and blew it out.

"Took you fuckers long enough," she said. Lucy hugged her tightly.

"Did he-?" Lucy tried, but Kara shook her head.

"I dealt with him," she said. Thom nodded. Kara frowned. "Where'd you get the swords?"

"They were smuggled in to us from outside," Thom said. "There's a whole army out there! Demanding the liberation of the slaves! There's a Westeros woman with them... With dragons!"

Kara gaped. "Are... Are you serious? That can't be right: There aren't any dragons anymore!"

"Whether she has them or not is irrelevant," Thom pointed out. "There's a rebellion starting and we're missing out on it... What do you want to do, Kara?"

"Me?" Kara asked. "Why are you asking me?"

"You are kind of... You know, 'take charge'?" Lucy said.

"Is that a nice way of saying 'I'm bossy'?" Kara asked dryly. "If you didn't want to listen to me, you didn't have to."

"No, but we did, and we're out," Lucy pointed out. Kara snorted.

"I barely had anything to do with that-"

"Look, the rebellion is here and we should make a decision on what to do about it," Thom said. "So...?"

Kara nodded. She knelt down to the downed guard, and took his sword. She swung it around experimentally, both Lucy and Thom backing away.

"You really don't know how to use a sword," Thom commented.

"Oh, and you do, Assistant Carpenter?" Lucy asked sarcastically. Thom shrugged.

"Fair enough."

"I think as long as we stick the pointy end in the bad guys, we'll be fine," Kara said with a nod. "Now let's go find someone who actually knows how to fight and back them up!"

Mirror Notes: I hope the author, AndrewJTalon, does see the reviews everyone leaves him, but for everyone who writes "keep it up" he's certainly keeping at it. I've currently posted every chapter that he's written, and all the ones others have added to the story (that he considers canon, and a part of the story), but he still has more to go before he's finished Volume One, and continues on to Volume Two. Expect chapter updates to slow down until there are at least 4000 words written, and I'll throw another chapter together.

If you want to send him PMs of encouragement, here is his account https colon / www dot fanfiction dot net/u/6754/Andrew-Joshua-Talon I'm sure he'd love to hear from you. Alternatively, the first chapter, up the top, has the url for where the story is continuing, and you can get the chapters, and byplay as they come.