Chapter 53: Split Swords

Never did Robb Stark think he would prefer riding into battle over being in Winterfell, yet seeing castle on the horizon brought little joy beyond the hope of a warm bath and comfortable bed. It was not that he hungered for war, but rather found a crown more tiring than a helm.

It had been well over two years since the war began, inching ever closer to three, and though Robb had not expected it to be easy it was still overwhelming. It was one thing to oversee the North as he'd been raised to do but now he had the Riverlands to worry about while the North was attacked from two fronts. In the grand scheme they had been lucky his aunt was hidden away in the Vale, keeping her people apart from the fighting, as he had little hope she would side with them.

While Winterfell may hold comforts they would need to wait. Not only were there a line of tasks waiting for him, but Dacey had begun to show. Though it was small enough to hide with tunics and armor they had agreed he would tell his family once his father returned to Winterfell. He couldn't help but cast a glance to the Mormont heir as she dismounted, quickly hiding his concern as he hugged his mother.

His personal guard split as most tended to their horses while those who had become a sort of council for Robb moved to his side. Though he cared for all his personal guard there were those he continually looked to for advice. Wendel Manderly and Robin Flint were the eldest of his guard while Lucas Blackwood was one of the few Riverlanders to follow the Old Gods. Beside Dacey and Domeric, there was also Daryn Hornwood, who Robb found he shared many things. Since his father's death at the Battle of the Green Fork, Daryn had become Lord of Hornwood and even had his own bastard brother he thought of as true kin.

It was that group which remained with Robb while he gave his squire Olyvar a quick thankful nod for handling his stallion before turning his attention to Maester Luwin and his mother, who stood with Brienne and Ser Davos, who flashed a smile to his son Devan before the squire guided Domeric's horse away.

"Did they keep their word?" Robb asked Davos.

"Ice's remained have been returned to Winterfell, Your Grace," Davos said with a nod.

"I suppose Lannisters would feel it a debt to be paid," the dark haired Lucas mused with a scoff.

"I suppose even debtors have honor at times," the immense Wendel said with a laugh that shook his large mustache.

"No problems otherwise?" Robb asked the pair.

Davos shook his head as Brienne said, "Ser Jaime had complaints, but otherwise cooperated the entire time."

"The pieces have been brought to the Lord's solar," Luwin told him before turning to led them to it.

Entering the solar, Robb quickly noticed a pair of rolled cloth sheets laying on the table besides piles of letters he would need to read. As he approached the table he noticed two were sealed by three drops of crimson wax, meaning they had been sent by Jon directly. Peeling away the cloth, Robb found Ice's remains had not only been split into two longswords but the smoky Valyrian steel now had dark red ripples through it. Both blades lacked a hilt or scabbard, likely taken from the forge the moment they received Robb's ransom letter.

Robb looked to Luwin. "Have Mikken or Gendry seen them? Do they think it could be reforged?"

Luwin frowned and shook his head. "Both saw it but agreed it unwise to put the blades to forge again. Though it's possible, the color would remain lest you alter the steel, and the resulting sword would likely be more brittle than these."

Though he was glad to have them back, Robb still frowned as he felt his stomach twist into a knot. He had dreamt of wielding Ice, and now the sword of his ancestors would forever be broken and stained by the Lannisters. Wrapping the cloth around them, Robb sighed. "We'll have Mikken craft hilts for them. I'll ask Gendry to help so they might be ready by the time Father returns."

Luwin nodded, stepping forward and picking a letter from the pile, handing it to Robb. "Lord Eddard sent word from the Wall, Your Grace. I think you should ready it first."

Robb took the letter, glancing to his mother whose frown told him she already knew what it said. Taking a seat, Robb's brow knit as he read his father's account from the Wall. Seeing concern spread among his features, Dacey asked, "What's happened?"

"The Others are real." It felt as if a gale cut through the room as the others looked to one another. "Uncle Benjen has fought them along with half the Watch and countless wildlings, who came south to escape them."

"T-that can't be," Robin flint said shaking his head. "Surely there must be some other explanation."

Robb shook his head. "He spoke with men of the watch, people from different tribes, and all speak of the same thing. Men of ice raising an army of the dead."

"What do we do?" Dacey asked, unconsciously pressing a hand to her abdomen. "How do we fight not only another army, but one that is already dead?"

Robb finished reading the letter, setting it on the table as he turned to the others. "They say the wights raised from the dead fall to flame. The Others… they die when stabbed with dragonglass." He let out a laugh as he said, "Benjen killed one himself with a dragonglass dagger."

"Where can we find Dragonglass?" asked Robin Flint.

Lucas shook his head. "At least the wall still Stands to keep them at bay."

"Aye it stands," said Wendel, "with all but three keeps unmanned."

"Not all of them," Robb said drawing their attention. "The wilding king has convinced his people to man the walls so their families might cross it."

None in the room were pleased with the news, a mistrust of wildlings all but ingrained in children of the North. Still, all there knew it was necessary, especially if they were meant to fend off Others.

"Did you send out the letters we prepared?" Robb asked Luwin. No doubt other lords of the realm would be upset upon hearing of the wildlings, so they hopped to quench it before any got too heated.

The maester nodded. "As soon we could."

Turning to the pile of letters Robb asked, "And how many of these are complaints?" That earned a few light chuckles, cracking their dour mood.

"There is news from the South, Your Grace," Luwin said moving a set of letters in front of him. "It seems Tywin Lannister has died."

Wendel guffawed while the others brightened some and Lucas asked, "How?"

"Poison, or so they say," Luwin explained as Robb read through one of the letters. "They've arrest Prince Oberyn for the crime. I'm not alone in expecting him to follow the Imp's example and ask for Trial by combat."

Wendel scoffed. "And who slew him?"

"Jon," Robb's voice escaped his lips as he read the letter.

"Your brother killed the Imp?" Dacey asked with a gasp.

"No, my lady," Luwin said with somber smile, "he was Lord Tyrion's champion. He slew the Mountain before the court."

The room was silent as they took in the news. Domeric's hands balled into a fist, his eyes closed as he fought to keep his relief from showing.

"There is also Princess Myrcella's attack."

Domeric's eyes snapped open at Luwin's words. "What happened to her?"

His demanding tone surprise the others apart from Robb who asked, "Does she live?"

"As far as I know she does," Luwin told Robb. "I know not the details of the attack, the letter saying only that the kingsguard with her was slain and she was injured."

Domeric and Robb shared a look, Dom having shared Jon's interest in the princess with him. Picking up another letter, Robb opened it and told the others, "Why don't you all go rest? We can meet again once I've read all these and had a warm meal."

As the dismissed group turned to leave, Robb turned to the desk and called back, "Ser Domeric, Dacey, stay a moment."

The two nodded at the others, watching them leave before returning to Robb's side. He turned in his chair, waving the letter he had picked from the pile to read. "Theon's arrived at Eastwatch."

"Have you kept us to share the burden of reading?" Domeric asked with glance to the letters.

"No. I thought you might like to know what waits within these," he said picking up the pair with three red drops of wax.

"From your brother?" asked Dacey while Dom smiled. Looking to the Bolton heir, Dacey asked, "Could he truly have slain the Mountain? Was he so skilled when you last saw him?"

"Skilled enough to best a lumbering auroch," Dom said with a nod. "The Mountain lets his strength overwhelm people, but so long as fear doesn't take you those like Gregor Clegane will always fall to a skilled man with a mind half as keen as his blade."

Robb let out a laugh, opening the second letter. Dacey watched his smile fade as he sat up, shaking his head. "What is it?"

"He says he intends to use his ships to sail north not only to come to us, but to reclaim Bloodwing. He thinks the Stepstones and Essos are worth the risk of the realm learning his true name." Robb shook his head, handing the letters to Domeric. "Essos?"

"His aunt," Dom said with a sigh, looking over the letters. "He wants her help."

"He can't know that she'll give it," noted Dacey.

"I've told him, but he's said if she denies it then they would settle it with another Dance of the Dragons."

Robb felt his his stomach in his throat. "What in the seven hells is he thinking? We can't support a war in Essos! We're already being pulled in a dozen directions. Not only the Lannisters and Greyjoys, but now we need worry about the wildlings turning from the Wall and the Others beyond it. Must we add dragons as well? Or does he intend to do that on his own?"

Dacey moved to Robb's side, rubbing his shoulder while Domeric shook his head, then chuckled when he saw Jon wrote of 'visiting the Widow for a night'. "He intends for me to join him at Widow's Watch."

"You could speak to him," Dacey implored. "He already intends to risk his identity becoming known by taking his dragon, let us reveal he is an ally. We could even say he has been leading the war this entire time to help convince the lords he should take the crown."

Domeric considered it briefly, but just as quickly shook his head, looking to the letters. "I doubt he'll even make it north anytime soon."

Robb looked up from the letter he'd started to read. "What do you mean?"

"Myrcella," Domeric said with a solemn smile. "He'll have heard of her attack, which means he'll go to her. If the man who attacked her lives then he'll chase them down and make sure it's him who takes their life."

Robb shook his head. "I know you said he cares for her, but so much he would abandon his plan?"

"Wouldn't you?" asked Domeric.

"It's one thing to hold affection for someone," Dacey argued, though Robb's frown made his agreement clear.

"He is a Stark," Robb said with a sigh.

Surprised, Dacey looked to each man. "Does he truly care for her so? Does she even know of it or care?"

Bemused, Domeric nodded. "Very much so. One night Ser Barristan was in his cups and said the princess fancied Jon from the moment she saw him, but it was his first gift to her that surely won her heart."

"His first gift?" Dacey narrowed her eyes. "Gods, did he bed her?"

Domeric laughed at that. "When I left they'd don't little more than dance together when he named her Queen of Love and Beauty. No, it was her nameday and Jon noticed how little people cared compared to Joffrey's. Even when the court gave her gifts they were all a way to earn the crown's favor except for her uncle Tyrion and a few guards who knew of the garden she kept. So Jon had Robb send a bush of winter roses from the glasshouses of Winterfell."

"He lied to me about it as well," Robb said taking another letter. "Said he was feeling homesick and it would ease his heart."

"But that's only half of it," Domeric said with a laugh. "When he went to retrieve her gift a guard captain was murdered and Jon was injured trying to stop the man. Thus Jon had risked his life while getting her a thoughtful gift unlike any other in Westeros, and for that he had forever earned a place in her heart."

Dacey had never been one for songs and doubted there was a Lannister worthy of love, but she couldn't help but smile. "That is sweet, but for all we know it could be dealt with already."

"I suppose either way I should go. Even if he's held up he'll come eventually. I'll leave within the next three days and wait until he sends word otherwise."

"Would you bring your squire?" asked Dacey. "Do you think Devan trustworthy enough to bring him with you?"

Robb's brow knit as he turned to Domeric before he could answer. "You can't leave."

Domeric frowned at what he thought was a command. "I serve one king, Robb."

The Stark heir nodded, holding out the letter he had been reading. "And you only have one father."

Domeric's eyes widened, snatching the letter from Robb and quickly scanning it. "He'll arrive within a fortnight?"

"Shouldn't Roose be at Harrenhal?" asked Dacey.

Robb shook his head. "He's passed it to Black Walder."

"Without an order?" Dacey looked to Domeric, who handed the letter back to Robb before moving to a window.

They looked to the Bolton heir as he took a moment to breath before turning to them. "I can't go to Jon. Not yet." Not until he knew why his father had truly abandoned his post.

Robb was relieved when Eddard arrived two days later. By then Robb had managed not only to get a warm bath and decent night's sleep, but had time to think over all he had learned upon his return. So when he met with his father in his solar that afternoon he did so with little of the unease he felt the days before and two sheathed swords in his arms.

Sat at his desk, Eddard looked up and got to his feet with a frown. "Is that…?"

"What was forged from ice," Robb said setting the swords on the desk. Each now had simple black leather scabbards with the hilts wrapped in white leather and silver for the pommel and guard made to mimic Ice's hilt.

Eddard picked up the smaller blade, drawing it to look upon the crimson streaks among the smoky swirls of the blade. "I take it nothing could be done?"

"Not by any here," Robb answered, watching his father sheath the blade.

Setting it down, Eddaard looked them over. "It seems improper to call them Ice."

"Icicle perhaps?" Robb suggested with a smirk, glad to see his father chuckle.

"No. Though they may be stained by the Lannisters they are still born of Ice. Let us not disrespect it's descendants."

"What then?"

Eddard looked to Robb thoughtfully before turning to pick up the smaller sword. "I'll call it Honor's Hail."

Robb nodded, tapping the larger longsword. "And this one?"

Eddard picked up the sheathed sword. "It's yours to name."

Though Robb had considered asking for one of them, it was still an honor to have it given to him. Few houses had a Valyrian steel sword and now Robb would not only wield one of the two House Stark owned but be the first to do so.

Taking the sword, Robb took a moment to think before he glanced at Grey Wind laying beside the door. With a smirk he dubbed it, "Frostgale."

"Fitting," Ned mused, setting his own sword aside. In a way this had been a boon. He'd tried using Ice in war but always found it more difficult than he liked. It did more good as a symbol of his house or an executioner's blade, but now not only could he easily wield it in battle but his son would have one of his own. Should he ever face someone his equal at least he might find an advantage in the steel of his blade.

"Have you heard of Jon?" Robb asked gaining Eddard's attention.

"Luwin spoke of him slaying the Mountain."

"Aye," Robb said handing him the pair of letters Jon sent him, "and he sent these from Nightsong and Starfall before setting sail."

Eddard looked them over, smiling when he read he was sailing north, but it quickly faded when he saw it was to collect his dragon and Domeric. "He means to take Bloodwing from the Wall?"

"And seek his aunt to ask for her aide. If she denies it… Domeric says Jon was willing to have a Dance of the Dragons in Essos." Robb's grim expression twisted when he saw his father laugh.

Seeing his son's confusion, Eddard shook his head. "Before I left Aemon told me he received a letter from Daenerys Targaryen. One concerning Jon."

Robb had to take a seat beside the desk. "What did it say?"

"Jon sent Ser Barristan to speak with her and see if she suffered her father's madness," Eddard said shaking his head. "He helped her take Meereen and revealed to her Jorah Mormont had been following her for Robert. She said she wants to meet him, to make sure Rhaegar's son is not alone."

Robb suddenly felt as if a weight had been lifted from his chest. "She wants to help?"

"It seems that way."

For the first time it felt as if they had a true stroke of luck. With a laugh Robb mused, "Surely we can win all our wars with four dragons on our side."

"If they're as large as Bloodwing then I've little doubt we can. He stands as tall as a horse with wings wide enough to cross a tower."

"Gods, to think I first saw him in a box." Robb's smile faded as sighed and looked to Eddard. "Father?" Once his father looked to him, Robb said, "Dacey Mormont and I have…. She's with child."

Eddard's eyes widened, turning to face his son. "Since when?"

"I couldn't say beyond a few months. She's only just started to show, though small enough to hide under armor and tunic."

A somber smile took Eddard's lips, reaching over to hold his son's shoulder and meet his gaze with his own glassy grey eyes. "This is wonderful. Whatever comes, a babe is a wonderful thing. A new life in this world is never bad so long as it has people to care for it."

"I will," Robb assured but his confidence quickly crumbled. "Though Dacey doesn't want to wed."

Eddard smiled sadly. "You want to wed her?"

Robb thought on it for a moment before shrugging. "I don't know. I did but I know she doesn't. She feels she can't leave Bear Island just to marry me."

"Do you love her?"

Robb started to think it over but quickly felt ashamed that he needed to, which felt like an answer, but he lingered a moment to consider his feelings. "At times I think I do. I enjoy her company, how she looks, how she seems to wear armor as well as she does a dress. I trust her as much as anyone. More maybe. I've shared so much with her, even the truth about Jon."

Eddard wore a smirk as he sat up and said simply, "But?"

"I won't give up Winterfell," Robb frowned at his father. "She won't give up her place as Bear Island's heir for me, nor would I give up Winterfell for her. It makes it…" Robb sighed, shaking his head to clear his jumbled thoughts. "It feels like a summer snow. A flurry we can enjoy for a time, but one that will last only so long before it disappears."

Eddard was glad to hear his son speak so sincerely, even if he was clearly pained by the idea of his relationship with Dacey Mormont having an inevitable end. "I can't say I've experienced the same, but I've had my share of heartbreak."

Robb asked quietly, "Ashara Dayne?"

Eddard nodded. "I wanted nothing more than to be with her. Day and night I dreamt of her, but in time they faded and I found happiness with your mother and our family Despite how it felt at the time, what I felt for her is little compared to what I feel for all in our family."

"There's also…" Robb sank back in his chair. "I feel… guilty, I guess."

"What for?" Eddard chuckled. "You've done the most natural thing for a man and woman to do."

Looking sideways to avoid Eddard's gaze Robb said, "I saw how people treated Jon."

Eddard frowned. "You're worried because they'll be a bastard?"

"I know it's pointless, but I do and I feel guilty for it, but Jon was a lord's bastard and people still looked down on him."

Eddard felt as if he'd been stabbed in the heart. It was another sign of his failure as a father. If he had been a better father to Jon and kept not only outsiders but his own wife from treating him so poorly then perhaps his son wouldn't be pained by something he should be enjoying.

"Have you discussed what will happen once they're born?"

Robb nodded. "Dacey will raise them. She'll name them Mormont. She said it's best so I can find another bride and let our children take Winterfell while hers take Bear Island."

"Is that what you want?

"It's what she wants, which is enough for me," said Robb, his smile making clear he was sure. "I still want to be a part of their life. I won't let them wonder about their father as-"

Seeing Robb stop himself, Eddard concluded, "As Jon did his mother. If I thought I could have told him I would, but thankfully you've little need to hide unless you're wed to someone worried the Mormonts may come to claim Winterfell." When Robb chuckled and got to his feet Eddard followed suit, hugging his son before stepping back grasping his shoulders. "For now enjoy it. Whatever comes, I know you'll make me proud."

Domeric was nervous. He had escaped King's Landing in the midst of a coup, raided Winterfell to free it from raiders, even been to war, and yet he dreaded meeting his father most of all. It wasn't that he feared his father, but rather feared he would fail because of him.

It was one thing to refuse his father's order to return to the Dreadfort while he was already in King's Landing, it would be another to deny it as he stood before him. While he had enjoyed his time as a knight, Jon's companion, the Stark girl's protector and Robb's advisor, he was still heir to the Dreadfort. The future of his house lay on his shoulders, especially now his bastard brother was dead, leaving only him to carry on their name.

Yet not only had he sworn to help Jon, he truly thought of Jon as his brother. Ever since he learned of Ramsay's existence he had imagined the kind of man he might be and how close they could become only to have all of those dreams ripped apart by reality.

His brother was every thing people had warned him of, everything people had feared in bastards, and yet he knew Ramsay being a bastard couldn't be to blame. Jon had been raised a bastard and even Daryn Hornwood was close to his bastard brother Larence, which was why he asked to join the battalion riding to reclaim Deepwood Motte where Larence Snow was under the care of House Glover. Both had brothers they cared for while his own blood had been dreck. In truth Domeric had felt betrayed upon seeing what Ramsay was and felt little pain watching him die. Had he lived he would have been a stain not only on House Bolton but Domeric. The world was better without him in it.

And yet he felt certain Roose would be upset with him for having a hand in his brother's death. Not because it could be misconstrued as kinslaying, but because he had little doubt Roose knew what he had done. Ramsay had risen too fast, done things no bastard could manage on his own.

When word came of Bolton riders approaching Winterfell, Domeric made his way to the great hall where Robb was sat upon a throne with Eddard to his right, Davos on his left and Robb's personal guard standing beside them. Domeric made his way to stand beside Davos much as Dacey stood beside Eddard.

The doors to the great hall opened and Domeric watched his father enter to stand before Robb. He was a plain faced man who had an average height and build and kept his face beardless and hair trimmed, leaving his pale eyes as his only notable feature of his face. When he bowed to Robb, he did so with an even expression even Domeric struggled to read.

"You Grace," he said in his usual quiet voice. Domeric could count on his fingers the times he had heard his father raise his voice.

"Lord Bolton," Robb said watching him rise. "Why have you abandoned your post at Harrenhal?"

"Because I wished to bring my wife to her home," he said motioning to the back of their group where a short, large woman with braided blonde hair stood. "Because I bring word of my good father's concerns with Your Grace."

"What concerns are those?" asked Robb.

"He complains that I am the only of your men to wed his daughters," Roose answered. "That Your Grace has yet to fulfill his agreement for his allegiance."

Domeric looked to Robb and saw the Stark heir was as annoyed as he was, sitting forward slightly as he asked Roose, "And you left Harrenhal without my order and gave command to his son?" The implication of Roose's stupidity did not go unnoticed by the hall.

"I thought it best to come secure my keep now we have wildlings roaming our lands," said Roose, his even voice leaving the bite of his comment inferred. "My good brother is capable and awaits my return once I have settled matters in my own lands."

Robb shook his head. "Then attend to your duties and return to Harrenhal. Petyr Baelish may yet bring the Vale to reclaim it."

"I will do my best, Your Grace," Roose said bowing his head before leaving the hall.

Domeric held in a laugh as he watched his father leave. Not once had he even cast a glance at him, as if he hadn't existed

"Gods, piss on Walder Frey and his complains," Smalljon Umber exclaimed with a scoff before looking to Ser Perwyn Frey and Robb's squire Olyvar. "Surely your father understands we are at war and have better things to worry us than your sisters maidenheads."

Perwyn shook his head. "Should he feel wronged he will not let it go."

"Perhaps it's because he sits in his keep while we ride to battle," suggested Torrhen Karstark. "To him his days are no different than before the war."

"That doesn't explain why Lord Bolton would give Harrenhal to Black Walder when he knows Lord Frey is displeased with our alliance," Lucas Blackwood said looking to Domeric.

Seeing the room turn their attention to him, Domeric felt a flare of frustration with his father for forcing him to answer his mistakes. "Perhaps he thought it would help appease Walder to entrust his second son with such a task."

Robb sat in thought for a moment until a smirk took his lips. "Then let us make things right and have his daughters wed. We will arrange it within the month."

"So quickly?" asked Perwyn.

Robb looked to his guard. "I know Daryn is betrothed to Alys Karstark, but do the rest of you have any I should know of?"

"You plan to marry us off?" asked Eddard Karstark.

"It's not a bad deal," Robin Flint said crossing his arms. "You get not only a wife but a dowry of her weight in silver. Perhaps Ser Domeric's father had the right thought in finding the heaviest one to wed." Seeing Perwyn shoot him a glare, Robin chuckled and held up a hand, "I mean not offense. I speak only of practical matters."

"Then why don't you wed one of them?" asked Patrek Mallister.

Robin shrugged. "If my king demands it."

"I'll not demand it," Robb assured. "If none here will take a wife then I'll find others."

"We've our pick of them, aye?" Wendel asked in contemplation.

Surprised he took the initiative, Robb nodded. "That was the agreement."

After a moment Wendel nodded. "I suppose it is near time for me to start a family as my brother has."

Domeric chuckled at him feigning a desire to settle down. No doubt the more appealing thing was the chance to garner favor by helping Robb settle matters with Frey and having the chance to choose the prettiest of the Frey daughters. Though Wendel was an honorable, jovial man he knew women would not see it in the immense man. Domeric found it amusing to think of noble ladies ignoring Wendel to fawn over a knight like Loras who had no interest in them. For that he wouldn't begrudge the man taking a chance to find a beautiful wife when few lords had any choice in who they wed.

After a brief debate on if the other members of his personal guard might take the second marriage, Robb dismissed them all. Robb gave Domeric a look that told him to linger, a look he shared with Dacey and Eddard, who stayed behind.

Once they were alone Dacey asked, "What changed your mind that you now look to rush these weddings?"

Robb smiled at Domeric. "If you can't go to Jon then we'll send the Fellowship in your place. We'll have them meet us and hide among our ranks to make their way to Widow's Watch and join Jon."

"You would take them from the Riverlands?" Eddard asked uncertainly. "They already struggle to fend of the Lannisters on their own."

"You said yourself we already struggle to match the battles on all fronts," said Dacey.

"Can we truly rely on them? They aren't our men. They don't serve us. They serve Jon, so let them bolster his ranks. I doubt their departure will cause the Riverlands to collapse. The Riverlands are not so weak they'll fall without a vigilante group taking vengeance against the Lannisters."

Though Domeric wanted to go he was glad Jon could end up with the hundred said to be in the Fellowship aiding him. It eased some of Domeric's concerns, but still he considered leaving and never looking back. He could ignore his father as he'd ignored Domeric in the hall and head to Widow's Watch to wait for Jon's ship. Instead he made his way to the guest chamber prepared for his father and found Roose sending off one of his men.

"Have I missed your wife?" Domeric asked not seeing her in the room.

"It would be difficult were she here," Roose said turning to remove his woolen cloak embroidered with droplets of blood. "She wished to see the grounds and the Stark's glass garden."

Domeric nodded. "I hoped to get to know her."

"You can speak with her on our way to the Dreadfort," Roose said turning to Domeric.

He had expected this, but it still annoyed Domeric he would presume so much. "I'm needed here."

"You are needed at the Dreadfort," Roose said in a firm, cool tone that might have sent a chill down Domeric's spine were he not a man raised hearing it. "Your duty is to House Bolton as my heir."

"I've a place at the king's side."

Roose stepped toward his son, their pale eyes meeting as he said carefully, "Your loyalty should be to House Bolton and it's people, not the Starks."

Domeric's brow sank as he said, "I do what I do for the realm, not House Stark." While not entirely true, his loyalty for the realm came above the Starks. If they turned on Jon he would not hesitate to kill every Stark he could find, so in a sense the realm came before the Starks for him.

The hint of offense and agitation in his voice was enough to convince his father his words were sincere. A hint of relief showed on Roose's face as he nodded. "I had feared you their dog when you ran off without warning."

Domeric shook his head. "It would have been foolish to refuse such an offer from Lord Stark himself. I've learned near much in King's Landing as I did in Barrowton and squiring for Lord Horton in the Vale."

"And yet you slew your own kin," Roose said with an examining gaze, clearly testing his son.

Domeric scoffed. "Ramsay was a fool. Surely you must have known him? He allied himself with Theon Greyjoy and tried to attack a battalion of men with barely twenty of his own. He was even known to the realm for torturing Lady Hornwood when her son is one of the closest to Robb. He may well have turned the Starks against us all because he was a mad dog, so I had him put down as he deserved."

The disgust and anger laced through Domeric's voice seemed to please Roose, who nodded. "It would seem you made the right choice then. I'm thankful at least you knew enough not to stain yourself with his blood and be forever marked a kinslayer."

"Though he shared our blood I would not consider him kin," Domeric said bitterly. "I had hoped for a brother but he was nothing more than a beast threatening to ruin our house."

A light smile touched Roose's lips as he clutched his son's shoulder. "You may yet find kin worthy of our house once Walda births the babe I've put in her."

"She's pregnant?" Domeric asked with genuine surprise.

"Only just, but the maester confirmed it," Roose said with a nod. "Which is a reason why I've come north so she may birth your brother or sister in the Dreadfort where they belong."

Domeric's smile faltered slightly as he noted his father said it was 'a' reason for his trip north, wondering what the others truly were. He had said he came north to bring his wife home but in truth did so because she was pregnant… was there perhaps more to Walder Frey's complaints than his father said?

Silently cursing his father, Domeric asked him, "When do we leave for the Dreadfort?"

In all her life Asha Greyjoy had never felt so lost as she did in Deepwood Motte. She found some solace in bed with Qarl the Maid, but it only took her mind from her troubles. She was still left with no place to go, exiled while her uncle used a seal in her place to wed her to Erik Ironmaker. It was enough to keep her from promising a marriage to gain the support of a lord.

It was shameful for an ironborn to be lost as sea, and there she was feeling adrift as she tried to find a way out of this. Then came a rider waving a green cloak covered in silver fish, the arms of House Botley. They found it was one of Maron Botley's sons, Tristifer Botley greeting him as the young man told them of his escape from the Stony Shore.

"Something startled their horses and they knocked over a cart," he said with a laugh pulling apart the bread they gave him, nearly choking as he tried to fill his aching belly. "I managed to take knife and used it to cut my bindings. I stole a horse and have been riding since."

"So you fled?" Hagen asked eyeing the man skeptically.

Cromm grunted. "You should have died at the shore if you were going to prove yourself a coward."

Pranar Botley scoffed, spraying bits of chewed bread on the table where he sat. "I survived. I'll reach the Drown God's halls when I must, but until then I'll live until I've had my fill." Wiping his mouth on his sleeve he looked to Asha, who looked disinterested in their argument. "Besides, I thought you would want to know what came of your brother."

"The wolves got him," she said waving a hand dismissively. There was nothing to be done for him now. Her only relief was knowing the Starks weren't the type to mount his head on the walls of Winterfell. If what he said of them was true then they may even put him in a river so he might join the Drowned God.

"And sent him to the Wall," Pranar said with a smirk, "or so his men say."

Asha sat up in shock as a few of the others muttered quietly. "They didn't kill him?"

"They say he faked the deaths of the Stark boys, so he was neck was spared."

Asha felt a knot in her stomach break. "Did they say where?"

"Eastwatch," said Pranar, "so he might put his knowledge of the sea to use for the realm they said."

Asha threw her head back, her laugh echoing off Deepwood Motte's walls. Her sudden joy confused her men, but she quickly calmed herself, shaking her head as she leaned forward to tell Pranar, "You've done well." Getting to her feet she told the others, "Take all you can! We leave tomorrow."

"Leave for what?" asked Grimtongue. "Where will we go?"

"To rescue my worthless brother," she declared with a laugh. "And bring him forward to declare the kingsmoot unlawful since he was not there to participate." Her eyes were wide, flooded with vicious vengeance as she said, "We'll rip the crown from Euron's head and show the fools who voted for him what comes to men like him."

The Black Wind set sail as the sun reached it's peak the next day, and the following day Larence Snow was among the crowd gathered to welcome a battalion of Stark men led by his his brother Daryn Hornwood as well as lords Robett and Galbart Glover, who were heartbroken to find Robett's wife and children long gone from its walls.


AN:

For the blade names I echoed the pattern of Oathkeeper and Widow's Wail but shifted them to the Starks, both having cold aspects but then Ned pushing honor while Robb obviously makes an allusion to Grey Wind.

It was fun to play with the different fathers. Ned is thoughtful with Robb, embracing his future and regrets his failures with Jon. Roose pays Domeric no attention until he goes to meet him, demands Domeric come with him, and brushes off his bastard's death. There's also a brother theme through the chapter chapter with the bastard brothers, Asha going to rescue her brother, Domeric wanting to join up with Jon who he considers a brother.

Next Chapter: A southron tale is told during a feast, Robb shares news with his family, Sansa questions the magic of the world, and Sam and Myrcella receive a letter which leads to a decision and an awkward situation.