"It's so strange, uncle. I haven't been here since I was born, and yet it feels like coming home," Torrhen said as he and the Blackfish stood on the battlements of Riverrun overlooking the Tumblestone. Across the river, the tattered remnants of the Lannister's northern camp could still be seen. Yesterday's battle had been swift and bloody, as most of the men had barely roused from sleep when the riders came down on them. Out of the twelve thousand foot and five hundred horse that surrounded the castle, nearly eight thousand were slain, including Lord Andros Brax, who drowned attempting to cross the river with reinforcements. Only the camp across the Red Fork survived, with four thousand men under the command of Ser Forley Prester able to march back towards the Golden Tooth. Robb had decided to let them go, as it would take too long to cross the whole army to pursue them. The most surprising event was the defection of seven hundred freeriders to the Starks. Led by a Tyroshi sellsword with flaming red hair named Bellacho the Bold, they pledged themselves to Robb and were cautiously welcomed. What could be salvaged from all three camps had already been taken and distributed among the men, and whatever prisoners they held had been freed, but some pieces remained to provide a stark contrast between the chaos of war and the tranquility of the Riverlands.

"I feel the same. No matter how far we travel or what we see, there will never be anything as wonderful as home."

"How long has it been since you were here?"

"Since your mother and father were married. I told my brother that day that I was leaving to join Jon Arryn and Lysa in the Vale, and he…well, he took it rather badly."

"At least now you have the chance to make peace before he…" He left it unfinished, as they had both seen Hoster Tully in the solar after lifting the siege, along with Lord Tytos Blackwood, who had valiantly held Riverrun with his son Brynden while Edmure had been a captive of the Lannisters, with Catelyn and Edmure himself. The old lord had looked as if only a combination of skilled medicine and sheer willpower was keeping him alive. When Catelyn had asked why she had not been informed of the severity of his condition, he had replied that House Tully could not afford to show weakness in this volatile time, especially when dealing with the Lannisters.

"Aye, at least I have that. He may be a stubborn old ox, but gods help me, I do love him."

"I know." Nothing more was said as the two men watched the river pass by, a moment of tranquility that came far too infrequently.

"I hoped I would find you here." The voice breaking the silence was none other than Edmure Tully, flanked by Ser Desmond Grell, a portly but capable man who served as Riverrun's master-at-arms, and Ser Robin Ryger, captain of the Riverrun's guard, old and bald but a tenacious fighter as he proved during Lord Tytos's sortie from the walls during the battle.

"Gentlemen, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Robb wants to see you in private."

"Thank you, uncle. My lords, if you'll excuse me." With nods all around, he descended into the castle. Upon entering the great hall, Torrhen made his way to Robb standing over a map of the Riverlands. "I heard you wanted to speak to me. Has there been any word on our forces on the Kingsroad?"

"Yes, we have received news. Lord Roose is on his way here from the Twins. His force met the Lannisters in battle at the Green Fork. They were able to delay the main Lannister host from reinforcing Ser Jamie's men and were also able to retreat in good order, but they took losses."

"How many?"

"Five thousand men dead, wounded or captured, at least. Harrion Karstark and Halys Hornwood were among the slain. Jon Mazin and Tommen Caulfield were injured and Marlin Dormund took an arrow to the shoulder, but Lord Roose writes that they'll live. Wylis Manderly, Donnel Locke, and Medger Cerwyn were taken prisoner, along with a few of the Freys."

"Gods help us. Harrion and Halys!"

"I'm afraid so. I haven't told Lord Rickard yet. He and some of the other lords are in the godswood now."

"Is Martyn with them?"

"He is. Gods, what a day this has been. Dead fathers, brothers and sons all around." Torrhen nodded, making sure to remind himself to pay the young man a visit when he had the chance to. To lose a father and brother in the same week would try the resolve of even the best of men. He could only imagine how his father felt after learning what happened to his brother and father at the hands of the Mad King.

"So where would they take their prisoners? King's Landing?"

"Too far away. Harrenhal seems more likely. We've received word that Lady Shella Whent has yielded the castle and fled. We don't know her whereabouts, though."

"Makes sense. House Whent barely had the strength to maintain Harrenhal, let alone defend it. No point in fighting a battle you have no chance of winning. Speaking of prisoners, what about ours? Will they be staying here?"

"No, they'll be separated. Less chance of organizing themselves to try and escape."

"Of course. So, who gets who?"

"Gawen Westerling will be taken to Seagard, Quenten Banefort to Stone Hedge and Garth Greenfield to Raventree Hall once we've retaken those castles, and Regenard Estern and Tytos Brax will go to the Twins. We'll keep the Kingslayer along with his cousins Willem and Alton here at Riverrun."

"When do they leave?"

"Not entirely sure, but the sooner the better. Now we have to decide what's our next move. That's why I hoped you and I could speak privately before I take it up with the other lords."

"What do you think we should do? Press the offensive, or try and offer terms?"

"If we press the offensive, our supply lines could become overextended and vulnerable. We go too far, then Tywin would be able to flank us, trapping us between his forces and King's Landing with no avenue of retreat. But if we offer terms, we might look weak to the Lannister's. They need to come to us, and then we can apply pressure to them. We might even be able to get Father and the girls back without further bloodshed."

"If they're still alive."

"Joffrey wouldn't be that stupid. He needs them alive or he loses the entire North, as well as the Riverlands. Not to mention his uncle's life would be forfeit."

"We've met Joffrey. Did he seem like a sensible, level-headed person to you?" Suddenly, the doors opened, and their mother walked in, closely followed by maester Vyman. The first thing Torrhen noticed was his mother's face; her mouth was set firmly, and her eyes were red, as if…as if she had been crying only moments before. But despite that, she still held herself as the composed lady of a great house, if only through sheer force of will. "Mother, what's wrong?"

"We…we've just received a raven from King's Landing."

"Is it about father? The girls? Are they alright?" Torrhen's questions caused a tremble in her lips as if what she had to say required a strength that even she did not possess.

"Mother, what is it?" Robb's words sounded almost like those of a frightened child, trying desperately to understand all the things adults are doing. Still, the words would not come from her lips, so Vyman stepped forward and fixed the two young men with a somber gaze before he spoke in a deep voice.

"My lords, it grieves me to inform you that, by the order of King Joffrey Baratheon, your father has been executed for murder and high treason."

And just like that, Torrhen's world shattered into a thousand pieces.

(-)

His world was subdued. He could hear Swiftwind's breathing, feel the wind on his face, and even see the blue of the Red Fork and the green of the trees, but they were softened as if a heavy cloth was covering his head. The world didn't make sense anymore, not after what he had learned. When Vyman told him the news from King's Landing, his mind went blank. He had seen tears running silently down his mother's face and heard Robb's gasps as he tried to form words. A sudden need to leave overtook him and he stumbled out of the hall without a backward glance. Somehow, he made it to the stables and mounted Swiftwind without obvious difficulty and rode out through the main gate. Once out, he turned south and broke into a gallop. He had no idea for how long he rode for, but as soon as Swiftwind slowed to a trot, he realized that he had ridden so far that he could no longer see the walls of Riverrun. Finally coming to a halt by a small grove of trees, Torrhen managed to dismount with some dignity before stumbling over to the riverbank. Feeling something wet on his face, he reached up to touch his cheeks only to realize that it was his tears. It was then that the walls came down and he collapsed to the ground, giving out great sobs and wails of anguish as the reality of what he learned finally came into focus.

His father was dead. All the plans to be made, all the conversations to be had, all the memories to be shared, all were like smoke on the wind.

Gone in an instant. Gone forever.

He lay on the ground, curled into a ball as his sobs shook his body, tears streaming down his face, feeling more powerless and alone than he had ever felt in his life. But then, he heard a noise. A soft, low whine coming from behind him. Sitting up, he turned around to see Rhaegar standing there, his eyes full of sorrow. Wiping the tears from his eyes, he beckoned to his companion with open arms and he obliged by leaping into his embrace. Fresh sobs erupted while Rhaegar offered comfort as best he could, nuzzling his distraught master.

"Torrhen!" He turned to see Dacey riding up and coming to a full stop before leaping off and running to him. "I saw you riding out the main gate. I called to you, but you didn't hear me. Then I saw Rhaegar take off and I knew I had to follow."

"I'm sorry. I just…I needed to be alone."

"I know. I just heard what happened to your father. Torrhen, I…" She rushed over and took him in his arms, cradling him against her and running her fingers through his hair. For what seemed like an eternity, Torrhen clutched Dacey's waist like it was flotsam to a drowning man while Dacey cradled his head, gently stroking his hair and making soft cooing noises while his body continued to shake with sobs. Then, when there were no more tears to shed, Torrhen turned his head and looked up into her eyes.

"Thank you," he whispered, fearful of shattering the tranquility of the moment. He saw her gray eyes glisten with their own tears and her mouth tremble as if trying to find the right words to respond with. She decided on no words at all as her head descended and her lips touched his. He could feel all the love and compassion in her kiss pouring into him like a spring and like a man dying of thirst, he drank deeply. He felt her descend to her knees and wrap her arms around his neck, her lips parting and her tongue gently touching his. As their embrace deepened, he gently pulled her down into the grass until she was lying on top of him. As they parted for air, they looked into each other's eyes, speaking volumes without words. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Rhaegar sitting off to the side, keeping a silent vigil over the two lovers. "So, what happens now?"

"What do you want to happen?"

"I…I want to be with you, but only if you want to be with me." Her face broke out in a massive smile before descending on Torrhen, kissing his eyes before ravishing his mouth with her tongue. When the need for air became too great once again, she pulled back to look in his eyes.

"Does this answer your question?" At that moment, all his fears, doubts, and burdens disappeared. He knew that it was only a temporary reprieve but with the Old Gods and the New as his witnesses, he would make the most of it. He wrapped his arms around her and let the rest of the world fall away. For the longest time, no words were spoken. No words were needed, as the two lay together in the grass in a comfortable embrace with Dacey's head laying on Torrhen's chest, listening to the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat while he played with her hair and stroked her shoulder. The only other noises were the rustling of trees, the songs of the birds and the gentle flow of the river. It was a perfect moment where time seemed to stop, and a man could live in that moment.

"I wonder what he was thinking?"

"What?"

"My father. I wonder what he was thinking before he died. Was he angry? Scared? Were there things he wanted to say or do, but never did because he thought he would have more time?"

"I wish I could answer that, but I can't. I can only imagine that he was thinking of his family and how much he loved you all."

"I remember the last time I saw. Jon and I were traveling to the Wall and Jon asked about his mother. Father told him that the next time they saw each other, they would talk about her. Gods, I was so happy for Jon. But now…we'll never know." Dacey nuzzled further into his chest, tightening her arms around him.

"I wish I could help you." He smiled at this and took her chin in his hand, tilting her head up to look into her eyes.

"You are." With a small grin, she brought her lips to his. How long they were entwined, he could not say, nor could he bring himself to care as they returned to oblivion.

(-)

The sun was beginning to move towards the western horizon as the two lovers rode along the riverbank, staying close enough to hold hands. Torrhen relished the contact, as it calmed him and gave greater clarity to his thoughts.

"It's tempting, isn't it? We could just keep riding south until we reach Oldtown, take a ship and just disappear."

"Could we?"

"It's possible. I have thought of leaving Westeros more than once. I even tried to convince Jon to come with me before we left Winterfell. We would go on all sorts of adventures and come back home with a ship full of treasure and a lifetime of stories to tell. But now he's a man of the Night's Watch…and I'm in the middle of a war. And I can't leave Robb. He needs me, and so does my mother, now more than ever. And I couldn't ask you to leave your family."

"But you haven't asked. Maybe we could find Jorah."

"I'm sure he would like to see some of his family. How old were you when he left? Fifteen?"

"Sixteen. It was hard, watching him try to make his wife happy. Nothing he did was ever good enough for that Hightower bitch. But we had no idea how desperate he was until one day I found our ancestral sword, Longclaw, lying on the table in the great hall and then having your father arrive to find him. When I heard he had sold some poachers he caught into slavery, I almost called your father a liar. I cried when my mother told me the truth." Torrhen gently squeezed her hand while she wiped her eyes with the other.

"What happened to him?"

"I never found out, for certain. I heard rumors that he joined with the Golden Company, but that's all. But I hope wherever he is, he is safe and happy. I also hope that blonde whore got eaten by some exotic animal. Something with a lot of teeth and claws." Their shared laughter carried over the water, where it was replaced by the songs of birds and rustling of leaves. But soon Torrhen's words came back to him: there was still a war to fight and Robb needed him.

"We should probably get back. I'm sure they're worried about us."

"They probably are. Still, I hope that you and I can return here when this all over."

"We will. I promise." He sealed that promise with a kiss.

"Well then, race you!" With a laugh, she turned her horse and galloped off, leaving Torrhen sitting there with a huge grin on his face.

"Well, I should let her win, but Stark honor is at stake. What do you think, boy?" Rhaegar barked in agreement at his statement. "Alright then. Come on, Swiftwind!" A snap of the reins and they were off, Rhaegar bounding alongside with his tongue wagging in the wind. Quickly, he caught up with her and the two rode together. As the walls of Riverrun came over the horizon, sadness and unease began creeping their way back into his heart but, while there was still the pain, it was no longer as disorienting as it was when he rode out. Now that Dacey was with him, he would not have to face it alone.

(-)

The great hall was packed to capacity, with the lords of the North and Riverlands sitting at four long tables with Uncle Endure sitting in his father's place as Lord Hoster was too weak to leave his bed. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife as they debated the next course of action. No one position had gained any serious ground, especially since word had reached Riverrun that Renly Baratheon, the youngest of Robert's two brothers, had been crowned at Highgarden and had even taken Margaery Tyrell, the only daughter of Mace Tyrell, the Warden of the South, as his wife and queen. With this, he now had the allegiance of the Reach and the Stormlands. Now there were two kings in Westeros; one wanted to hold the Iron Throne, and the other wanted to take it. But the question remained on how the war should end or continue. With the news that Tywin Lannister had crossed the river with his host and was making for Harrenhal, many lords wanted to march east and attack to rout the Lannisters and rescue the prisoners they had taken at the Green Fork, a position championed by Lord Blackwood. Marq Piper proposed marching west, invading the Westerlands and putting Casterly Rock under siege, to which Lord Karyl Vance voiced his approval. Jason Mallister argued for simply remaining put in the Riverlands and fighting a war of attrition, launching raids against Lannister scouts and supply parties to blind and starve out the men at Harrenhal while also preventing them from returning home. Jonos Bracken of Stone Hedge had his own idea.

"The proper course is clear, my lords. We must pledge fealty to King Renly and move south to join our forces with his. With our overwhelming numbers, Tywin and Joffrey will have no choice but to sue for peace." The suggestion was favored by many throughout the hall, except one.

"Renly is not the King!" Robb's voice rang clear and loud for the first time since the council began.

"My lord, you cannot mean to hold to Joffrey! He put your father to death!"

"And he will answer for that, Lord Bracken, but that doesn't make Renly a king." Murmurs swept through the hall. "He's Robert's youngest brother. Bran can't be Lord of Winterfell before Torrhen, Renly can't be King before Stannis." Robb's logic was sound. If Robert had no sons of his own, then Stannis would be the next in line. But from what Torrhen knew of Stannis, other than how he held Storm's End while besieged by House Tyrell during the Rebellion, sank the Iron Fleet at Fair Isle and was the Master of Ships on the Small Council, was that he wasn't a very popular man. He seldom smiled and had no true friends. So, it did make sense that the more charming and popular Renly would attract a greater amount of support.

"Do you mean to declare us for Stannis, then?" Bracken's question then began a whole new debate as to which brother to support; the one with the stronger claim or the one with the stronger army? It was then that Ser Stevron put forth his proposal.

"Perhaps, my lords, we could make peace with the Lannisters and allow Joffrey and Renly to fight each other. Then, when only one is left, we can bring our full strength to bear in supporting or opposing whoever is left standing. Lord Tywin would welcome a truce and the return of his son and relatives, and we would have time to gather our strength." Almost immediately, he was shouted down by the others, mostly the northern lords who considered the Kingslayer the most valuable bargaining tool they had. At that moment, Torrhen watched his mother stand and walk to the center of the hall and all voices died. Such was the effect of her presence.

"My lords, Ser Stevron is right. Enough blood has been shed on both sides, but we can end it before the tide of blood becomes a great wave that will drown us all. All we have to do is try."

"You would have me make peace with the men who killed our father and your husband?! I can't do that. I won't do that." Robb emphasized his words by placing his sword on the table in front of him to show the resolve behind them. Torrhen, despite wishing otherwise, found himself agreeing with Robb. The Lannisters had cut wounds that would not be so easily remedied by mere words, either spoken or written.

"Robb, if that sword could bring him back, I would never let you sheathe it until he stood at my side once more... but he is gone, and a hundred Whispering Woods will not change that." Their mother's words rang clear and true, clearly holding back tears while she stood tall and dignified before the lords. "If I must trade all our prisoners for their two, I will call that a bargain and thank the gods. I want you safe, Robb, ruling at Winterfell from your father's seat. I want you to live your life, to kiss a girl and wed a woman and father a son! I want to write an end to this. I want to go home, my lords, and weep for my husband."

"If we make peace now, what's to stop the Lannisters from returning? We bloodied Tywin and took his son and kinsmen as prisoners. He won't forget that, and he certainly won't forgive it. What would keep them from starting another war to finish the job?" Ser Brynden spoke honestly. Even if they made peace it would only be a temporary one, given the mentality of both Joffrey and Tywin, and any man who thought otherwise would be a fool.

"Aye, and everything that we've lost and sacrificed will have been for nothing. Gregor Clegane slaughtered my smallfolk, raped one of my daughters, killed my son, and left Stone Hedge a smoking ruin. Am I now to bend the knee to the ones who sent that monster? What have we fought for if we are to put all back as it was before?" Further agreement followed Lord Bracken's words, even from Lord Tytos Blackwood. Though rivals, they had both suffered the destruction of their lands and homes.

"I lost three sons in less than a week, my lady. I loved them all, and now they are all gone from me. Only Harald and Alys are left to me. Their deaths have to mean something, or else it was nothing but a damn waste." Lord Rickard's words left nothing to the imagination about his grief, though no one could ignore the iron in his words or the cold fury in his eyes.

"I lost my father and brother as well, and you would ask me…ask us…to shake hands and break bread with those who took them from us? Well, you may do so, if you wish, but it will be a cold day in the Seven Hells before I ever call a Lannister my King!" A roar went up through the hall at young Hornwood's words, followed by young Lyman Darry, a child of ten, standing up to say that he would never swear fealty either. Torrhen watched his mother as she returned to her seat. It looked as though she was watching as peace slipped through her hands like so much sand. He could feel Dacey squeezing his hand underneath the table, which he returned gratefully. The conversation then returned to whether to support Stannis or Renly until the Greatjon rose from his seat and strode into the center of the hall.

"My lords! MY LORDS! Here is what I say to these two kings!" Spitting on the floor brought cheers and laughter from the assembly before he continued. "Renly Baratheon is nothing to me, nor Stannis neither. Why should they rule over me and mine, from some flowery seat in the south?! What do they know of the Wall or the wolfswood or the barrows of the First Men? They know nothing of our ways, and even their gods are wrong!" More laughter followed his remarks. Even Torrhen chuckled at them. "Why can't we rule ourselves again? It was the dragons we bowed to, and now the dragons are dead!" With those words, he drew his sword and leveled it at Robb's chest. "There sits the only king I mean to bend my knee to. The King in the North!" As he laid his sword on the floor and knelt, the only sound that could be heard was the cracking of logs in the great hearth. Torrhen almost thought he imagined it. A King in the North? A King of Winter? Could such a thing be possible, after three hundred years?

"I'll have peace on those terms. To hell with the south. They can keep their red castle, and their iron chair too. The King in the North!" Lord Rickard's sword joined the Greatjon's, followed by Theon's with a fervent declaration of his loyalty.

"Torrhen? What say you, brother?"

"I never thought I would live to see this, but here we are. I've come with you this far, Robb. Why not go all the way?" Drawing Dark Sister, he placed it on the ground and knelt, smiling as Dacey joined him. "So, in the sight of gods and men, I will follow you. As my brother, as my captain…and as my King." With that, another man knelt and then another, even among the riverlords who owed no fealty to House Stark, until the entire room was kneeling and chanting the same words. Words that had not been spoken in three hundred years.

"The King in the North! The King in the North! The King in the North!"

What a time to be alive.

(-)

Sleep would not come for Torrhen, no matter how hard he tried to relax. Too many emotions were rolling around in him. So much had happened in such a short span of time that his mind hadn't been able to sort it all out yet. At least Rhaegar was sleeping, curled up at the foot of his bed. After all that he had done over the last few days, he deserved to sleep in a warm bed. As he closed his eyes once again, gentle tapping on his door broke his concentration. Sighing in defeat, he swung his legs over and stood up, When he opened the door, his annoyance turned to surprise and then happiness as his eyes took in Dacey wearing a robe over a thin nightshirt, standing barefoot at his door.

"I can't sleep," she whispered while her eyes traveled up and down his bare chest.

"Neither can I," he whispered as well. They seemed to silently agree that the situation called for hushed tones. Moving aside, he allowed her to enter before closing the door. For what felt like an eternity, the two of them stood and stared at each other, each trying to find the right words to say. Finally, Torrhen broke the silence while offering Dacey a seat by the fireplace before sitting down as well. "What a day this has been."

"It certainly didn't go the way I expected it to."

"And how you expect it to go?"

"I suppose I expected to have the Lannisters come, cap in hand, to make peace and salvage their pride. Instead, your father is dead and your brother's a king." Torrhen let out a low whistle in response.

"King in the North. If someone had told me six months ago that I would be alive to see this day, I would have called them a madman." A soft chuckle was Dacey's response.

"Well, these are mad times."

"They are, indeed. By the way, how's your mother?"

"She's well. Last time I saw her, she was preparing a raven with the maester to send to Bear Island. I don't think I've ever seen her so excited. The only time I could think of that compares is when Alysane gave birth to my niece, her first grandchild. She could barely sit still or concentrate on anything."

"My father was like that when Sansa was born. He paced so much outside our mother's room I thought he would make a damn hole in the floor, and when he finally held her…I had never seen him smile like that. I know he smiled when he saw Robb and me for the first time, but he was there for that one. That's what made all the difference."

"I wonder what the people will think of this news."

"I suppose most of the North will be happy to be independent. No more taxes for a southern king. No more fighting in southern wars. Before the Conquest, we kept to ourselves and we liked it that way."

"But?"

"But we have lived as vassals of the Iron Throne for nearly three hundred years. You can't just forget that. We stayed loyal to the Targaryens, even when they lost their dragons. Hell, Cregan Stark had the perfect opportunity to break free from the Iron Throne after Aegon II died and what did he do? Pledged fealty to Aegon III, reigned as Hand of the King for a day and then he went home."

"Well, you Starks have always been an odd family."

"I'm not sure how to take that." After some mild chuckles, the two silently looked at each other and enjoyed the quiet, holding hands and allowing their eyes to say what they felt. Torrhen wondered if his parents ever shared moments like this; as their children slept, did they revel in their closeness and allow themselves to just imagine being a happily married couple and family without the responsibilities and worries that came with being Warden of the North? He could imagine that they treasured those moments more than any others.

"Well, I suppose we should try and get some sleep."

"You're probably right. There's a lot to do tomorrow." She stood up, gave Torrhen a kiss on the lips, and made her way to the door. "Good night." As she opened the door, he sprang up.

"Dacey." She turned to face him; her eyes full of…anticipation? Or was it something else? Desire, perhaps?

"Yes?" At that moment, resolve failed him and he chided himself for such an impulse. This wasn't the right time for…that.

"Sleep well."

"Seven hells, Torrhen! If you want me to stay with you, say so!"

"I wasn't sure you would want to. I mean, we only started being together yesterday. I didn't want to rush anything." With a shake of her head, she shrugged off her robe and nightshirt, leaving her with nothing but what the gods had given her. Torrhen's eyes grew wide and he felt all his blood rushing from his head, leaving him incapable of speech. Divine seemed to be the only word that seemed appropriate for the sight before him.

"Trust me, love, you're not rushing anything." She strode towards Torrhen with a smirk and an emphasized shake of her hips while he remained rooted to the floor. Standing nose to nose with him, she ran her hands over his chest with a feather-like touch and laid kisses over his shoulders and neck, giving him goosebumps. Slowly, he brought his hands up to caress her bare skin. He could not think of any way to describe the sensations. It was just too wonderful to put into mere words. Just as he was about to attempt to speak, she planted her lips on his firmly before coaxing them open with her tongue. For the next few moments, the only sounds were the two lovers shared breath, occasional moans and hands caressing bare skin accompanied by the crackle of the fire. Only when the need for air became too great did they separate, with Dacey leaving a trail of kisses towards his ear. "Take me to bed, Torrhen," she whispered, gently biting his earlobe.

"Dacey, I…" Torrhen's resolve was rapidly crumbling but her next word left him undone.

"Please." With that, he swung her into his arms and carried her to the bed. Laying her down, he removed his pants which rewarded him with a massive smile from Dacey, obviously impressed by what she saw. Joining her, he allowed the world to fall away. As they melted into each other under the covers to a symphony of moans and sighs, all that mattered was that he was a man and she was a woman and they wanted, and needed, to be together.

Westeros, and the war, could wait. Now was all that mattered.

We've come to it at last! The next chapter will be the finale for this incredible tale. For all of you still reading and waiting, I thank you for your continued support and love. You make this possible.

As always, read, review, and enjoy.