Beskha guided Asher and Croft through the streets of Meereen, while avoiding the guards and it was clear to Asher that she was uncomfortable with returning to the city.

"Hoped I'd never have to see this place again." Beskha muttered under her breath before noticing Asher's concerned look. "Tried to run once…" Asher saw in her eyes reliving the pain. "Didn't make it very far."

They kept sneaking through the streets and alleys until, on display to them, they saw slavers beating up a slave as Beskha looked at the scene sadly. Asher could tell how hard it was for her to watch. They waited until the slavers left as Beskha approached and knelt towards the beaten slave.

"What did they do to you?" Beskha asked in Valyrian, lifting the slave's head gently.

"Our mother will come. She has to." The slave whispered.

Beskha got ahold of herself as she tried to get straight to the topic at hand. "Who is your Master?"

"She will come." The slave murmured before he drew his last breath, slumping against Beskha's hands as she looked at the man sadly.

Asher and Croft could understand Beskha's feelings but they had to focus. "We have to go." Croft ordered.

Beskha got up to her feet, getting ahold of herself and she seemed set onto doing something. "There's something I have to do."

Asher and Croft looked confused as she walked down the streets. "Beskha, what are you doing?"

Beskha whirled on him with a pleading look. "Do you trust me, Asher?"

"We don't have time for this." Croft said, holding Asher by his wrist.

"Just tell me. Do you trust me?" Beshka asked. "I need to know."

"Of course I trust you." Asher assured.

"Good." Beskha nodded before she walked into an alley. "This won't take long."

"Beskha!" Croft called.

"Where are you going?" Asher demanded.

"Follow her!" Croft ordered.

They ran to catch up with Beskha into a maze of alleys before they heard screams and begs as from one of the houses burst out an elderly man in a dress, while Beskha looked down at him with hatred Asher had never seen before.

"Speak to me again and I'll rip your throat out." Beskha growled in Valyrian.

"Why are you doing this?" The man croaked and Asher's eyes widened, realizing who it was as Beskha grabbed the man by the collar of his dress, as her and the man's eyes met. Dezhor zo Raza, her former master.

"Ten years ago…" Beskha punched Dezhor.

"Beskha, stop!" Croft ordered.

"I should've killed you." Beskha snarled.

"Beskha…" Asher trailed off as Beskha pulled Dezhor up to his feet.

"I should've fucking killed you!" Beskha struck him in the face again.

"Beskha!" Asher yelled as Beskha turned to him.

"He was my master." Beskha kicked her former master in the face. "Dezhor zo Raza." Asher could only look at her in sympathy, imagining the anger and hate on display to him. "The man who forced me to—" She swallowed. "I'm going kill you! That is a mercy compared to what you deserve."

"Death is too easy for a man like him." Asher said.

Beskha nodded. "I'll make sure he feels it."

"Have you lost your mind?!" Croft demanded, clenching the grip of his crossbow. "I'm ordering you to back away!"

Dezhor crawled away as his eyes widened upon looking at Beskha. "My Be— My Beskha…"

Beskha's face turned red with rage as he suddenly faced the tip of her blade. "I am not yours."

"Let him go! Or I'll shoot." Croft ordered, aiming his crossbow at her.

"Croft, what are you doing?" Asher stepped up, shielding Beskha.

"You will do as I say! Both of you!" Croft turned to Asher, glaring with his eye. "Take her weapon."

"I need to do this, Asher!" Beskha begged. "After everything he's done—!"

"And he'll pay for it!" Croft promised. "Once the city is free, he will be punished—!"

"Punished by a queen who has no right to!" Beskha sneered. "His life means nothing to her!" She raised her blade, about to execute him. "She does not speak for the children who died in those pits!"

"Asher, stop her!" Croft ordered.

"I will get their justice!"

"I won't let you ruin this for me. You heard what Daenerys said!"

"Your queen will understand!"

Asher was conflicted but as he saw Croft inching to pull the trigger, he placed his hand on the crossbow, forcing Croft to lower it. "Go ahead, Beskha."

"No!" Croft shouted as Beskha grabbed Dezhor by the back of his head and drove her sword through his abdomen before she pulled out her other sword, stabbing him with it too and Croft stared in shock. "What have you done?"

"Let's go." Asher said as they walked off. He had hoped that Daenerys would understand or that they could convince Croft not to tell her or that she would not find out. But deep down he knew it was a foolish wishful thinking.

In the North, Gared, Finn and Cotter, who was leaning onto them both, kept walking until they found an abandoned wildling camp. Gared examined Cotter's wound and realized he needed help. Gared went to examine the tents and huts and saw nothing but spears and… in one of the tents was a token with an engraved bear. Gared's eyes narrowed. Cotter was wearing the same token and Gared wondered…

"Don't move." Gared froze as he turned and face a tip of a spear from a white-haired wildling girl. She must have been 16, maybe 17 years old. "I'm warning you!" She aimed it inches away from Gared's face. "Or I'll—I'll gut you like a fucking fish." Gared looked at her nervously, mainly because he didn't want to hurt a little girl. She was just slightly older than Talia, maybe around Sansa's age. "Huh. You do look like a sad little fish, don't you? That happen a lot? I can fix it for you." She made a move with her spear, threatening to stab him. "Won't take long."

"My friend is hurt. We're just looking for a place to rest." Gared pleaded.

"There are others with you?" The girl asked warily.

"Step back!" Finn shouted as he approached with his sword aimed at the girl, who was caught off-guard, stepping back in fear, she certainly didn't like the idea of fighting two members of the Night's Watch. Finn turned to Gared. "Want to kill her yourself or should I do it?"

"Gared!" Cotter called out and the girl's eyes widened, recognizing the voice.

"Drop your weapon!" Finn ordered.

"Is that…?" The girl trailed off.

"You're outnumbered. You can't fight all of us." Gared said.

When Cotter approached, the girl stared in disbelief, dropping her spear. "Cotter?"

"Sylvi!" Cotter hugged her tightly as she laughed.

"You're alive…" Sylvi whispered as Cotter held her shoulders.

"Who's this fucking snowball?" Finn demanded.

"I told you I'd come back." Cotter said as she smiled.

"Who are these people?" Sylvi asked.

"They're friends." Cotter assured.

Finn snorted. "Right."

"You planning on introducing us, Cotter?" Gared asked, confused.

"Right… uh… heh." Cotter turned to them awkwardly. "This is my sister. Sylvi. She's the reason I brought you here." He and Sylvi looked at each other before Cotter gave Gared a reassuring look. "She can take us to the North Grove."

Gared's eyes widened in disbelief.

Rodrik entered Highpoint with Elissa and Royland as Gwyn bowed to them. "Lord Rodrik. Lady Elissa."

"Gwyn." Rodrik nodded.

"Rodrik, may I have a word?" Gwyn asked. Rodrik nodded as he followed her. "Thank you for accepting my father's invitation." She turned to him. "I wasn't certain you'd come…" She smiled. "But it's a good thing you did."

"I don't trust this, Gwyn." Rodrik gave her a worried look. "Years of hostility, and suddenly he wants a truce?"

"It wasn't like that. I fought for weeks to make this meeting happen." Gwyn explained.

Rodrik scowled. "So in other words, he might change his mind."

Gwyn's eyes narrowed. "I heard what happened with Gryff."

Rodrik blinked. "You did?"

Gwyn shook her head, glaring at him as if he was stupid. "How you refused to submit to him…" She sighed. "You're too strong-headed, Rodrik. My father's convinced you mean to rebel." She gave him a pleading look. "So if you value your life and your family, you'll listen to what he has to say. You need to take him seriously today. Which means keeping a level head. And thinking before you jump to conclusions."

"I'm here in good faith, aren't I?" Rodrik asked.

Gwyn considered before nodding. "Yes. I suppose you are."

"There are lords who wield power, and lords who like to make a show of it." Royland said in disgust as he looked around.

"These walls hold a thousand years of Whitehill history." Gwyn said.

"A thousand years of bloodshed." Elissa added in disgust, considering their blood feud.

Gwyn took a breath, trying to stay calm as she looked up at her family's crest. "But our Houses were close once, and could be again." Rodrik looked up. "So much of our history has been lost."

"Shall we get on with it?" Rodrik asked.

"The Great Hall is this way." Gwyn said, accompanying them and Rodrik was unfazed by the glares the guards were shooting them.

"Your soldiers seem on edge." Royland noted.

"Well, what do you expect?" Gwyn shot him a look. "The way they see it, the enemy is within their walls."

Rodrik was clearly annoyed by the guards' attitude but he couldn't blame them. Ludd was a different matter altogether though. Then, a portrait on the wall caught his eyes. "What's this?"

Rodrik examined what seemed to be Ludd, his pregnant wife, Gwyn and two of her brothers.

"M-My lady…?" One of the guards reached for his sword.

Gwyn raised her hand. "Give us a moment."

"Is this your family?" Rodrik asked as Gwyn was next to him.

"Shortly before Gryff was born." Gwyn said.

"Your father doesn't smile much, does he?" Rodrik said. Ludd seemed to look grumpy all the time, explaining why was he such an insufferable buffoon.

Gwyn's smile shattered. "He used to. When my mother was still alive."

Rodrik gave her a look of sympathy before turning to the portrait again. "Is that your mother?"

"Yes…" Gwyn looked down for a moment. "…though I hardly remember her. She died not long after this was made. Father isn't one for portraiture."

"You look like your mother now." Rodrik noticed that Gwyn looked like a younger version of her mother before he turned to the three boys. "Are these your brothers?"

"The eldest three, yes." Gwyn nodded. "Karl died of grayscale a few years ago. Ebbert's at the Citadel. Torrhen serves Roose Bolton…" She sighed. "…and Gryff of course, wasn't born yet." They turned to Ludd's pregnant wife. "My brothers were never kind to Gryff. He was boastful, gullible, and quick to anger." Rodrik snorted and clenched his cane. He knew exactly firsthand was Gryff was capable of. "But my father always defended him. "A Whitehill is a Whitehill," he said."

Rodrik considered. He felt some sympathy for Gryff now but it didn't justify what he had done.

"Come on. We mustn't keep my father wait." Gwyn said.

They entered the great hall, where a table with food was prepared and above them were guards prepared with crossbows. The side door was barred, obviously not to let them escape.

Bread and salt on the table. Symbol of being protected by guestright. Ludd was testing them.

"Rodrik!" They looked up to see Ludd and Gwyn by his side. "Welcome to Highpoint."

"Ludd." Rodrik nodded.

"My men say you've been acting a bit tense. You're not nervous, are you?" Ludd taunted as he walked downstairs.

"Robb Stark went to a feast, and look what happened." Rodrik reminded, the memory from the Red Wedding still fresh, considering that it had turned him into a cripple.

"I'm nothing like Walder Frey." Ludd assured. "And unlike Stark, you don't even have bodyguards."

"Father, please…" Gwyn whispered, giving him a pleading look.

"Well?" Ludd asked, approaching the table. They sat down, proceeding with the meeting as Ludd clapped his hands and his servants poured them all wine. "You know…" He smirked at Rodrik. "Your father once called Highpoint a keep for the gods. "What stonework," he said. "What craftsmanship."" He laughed. "He wouldn't stop talking about it. If you ask me, I'd say he was envious."

"Highpoint is very impressive." Rodrik said, mainly to be polite.

"It is, compared to your pile of timber." Ludd gloated.

"Ludd, where's Ryon?" Elissa asked, impatient.

Ludd gave her feigned look of sympathy. "Always worried about your family, aren't you?" He raised his cup. "Let's toast. To family." He saw Rodrik's scowl. "Won't you toast with me, Rodrik?"

Rodrik considered. Certainly, Ludd wouldn't be so bold and stupid to try what Walder Frey did, at least not in front of Gwyn. "To family." They all raised their cups and toasted before drinking.

Rodrik placed his cup on the table before cutting to the chase. "Now. Tell us why we're here."

Ludd leaned onto the table. "The ironwood is thriving, Rodrik. In fact, the Boltons want weapons faster than we can make them. And when Roose Bolton wants something… I like to give it to him."

"So in other words, you need our help." Rodrik said, amused.

Ludd scoffed, glaring at Rodrik. "Don't be so damn full of yourself." He bent forward. "You Forresters are headed for destruction." He leaned back. "Yet you know more about ironwood than any House in the realm. Would be a shame for all the knowledge to be lost." Rodrik's eyes narrowed as Ludd smirked. "Help me craft ironwood for the Boltons… And I'll make sure you Forresters survive."

"As if he'd protect us. Pfeh!" Royland scoffed.

Elissa glared. "If you think you can threaten us…"

"I'm not threatening." Ludd growled.

"So you're proposing an alliance." Rodrik said.

"An alliance?!" Ludd almost laughed. "I said nothing of the sort."

"He'd make us his slaves." Elissa corrected, disgusted.

"Rodrik, this could save your House." Gwyn gave him a pleading look.

"I'd consider an alliance…" Rodrik said.

Ludd rolled his eyes, turning to Gwyn. "You see what I have to put up with?"

"Just give him time." Gwyn said calmly. "I told you—"

Ludd's patience was at its end as he turned to Rodrik again, all civility and politeness thrown out of the window, showing his true self now. "I offer you peace, and you spit at it." More like slavery. "I offer opportunity, and you demand more." More like blackmail. "I've seen this coming since you refused to kiss my ring." He clenched his fist. "Here's how it's gonna go, Rodrik. Either you agree to my terms…" He got up, banging the table. "…or I'll have Gryff tear Ironrath to the ground. He'll put it to the torch…"

"This isn't the way you get you want." Gwyn pleaded.

"Then begin slaughtering your smallfolk." Ludd continued, ignoring her. "Maybe he'll even make you watch."

Rodrik smirked. "Funny you should mention Gryff. Have you heard from him lately?"

Ludd narrowed his eyes. "What are you getting at?"

"He's locked in our darkest cellar, along with your entire fucking garrison." Rodrik said.

Gwyn gasped, staring at him, betrayed. "You didn't."

"You've imprisoned my son?" Ludd got up to his feet, his face turning red with rage. "He was there by the order of the Warden of the North."

"Rodrik, how could you?" Gwyn whispered.

"I'll gladly return him…" Rodrik got up from his seat. "…if my brother returns home."

"We want Ryon back and we want him today." Elissa said.

Ludd considered before he sat down, considering and as he saw Gwyn's pleading look, he turned to his men. "Bring the boy."

The guards accompanied Ryon as the relief filled the Forresters.

"Ryon!" Elissa breathed out.

"Mother!" Ryon called out. "Rodrik! You came, just like you said you would!"

Suddenly, Ludd grabbed Ryon by his chin with a fork against his eye.

"No!" Elissa exclaimed.

"Father, no!" Gwyn cried out, horrified.

"What are you doing?" Rodrik demanded.

The guards pulled out their swords and aimed their crossbows at the Forresters, while Royland pulled out his sword.

"You imprison my flesh and blood? Mine?" Ludd shouted.

"Let him go!" Elissa begged.

"He's not going anywhere." Ludd growled.

"Listen to her. Don't do this!" Gwyn begged, turning to her father.

"I swear by the gods, if you hurt him…" Elissa sneered.

"He's a child, Ludd!" Rodrik spat.

"A son for a son." Ludd said.

"This is not what we agreed!" Gwyn protested.

"Blame him, not me." Ludd turned to Rodrik.

"If you want to see Gryff alive again…"

Ludd laughed. "You think I give two shits about Gryff?" Ludd laughed as Gwyn stared at him in disbelief, his true colors on display to everyone. "About my fucking fourthborn?" Ryon bit Ludd's finger, forcing him to let go but Ludd quickly recovered his grip on the boy, aiming the fork at his jugular. "I ought to kill you right now." Elissa and Gwyn stared in horror. "Because you Forresters never learn."

"I'm not afraid of you." Ryon said.

"Rodrik! Do something!" Elissa exclaimed.

"Go on then! Do it!" Rodrik taunted.

"What?" Elissa widened her eyes.

"You think I won't?" Ludd warned.

"I know you won't." Rodrik said.

"Don't test him, Rodrik." Gwyn protested.

"Because for all your bluster… all your posturing… You care about your son." Rodrik said, remembering what Gwyn had told him earlier. "A Whitehill is still a Whitehill."

It was quite a gamble to call Ludd's bluff and even though he had shown his true colors, Rodrik was certain he wouldn't dare to back out on his word, not in front of Gwyn. And he was right. As soon as Ludd met Gwyn's pleading eyes, his face softened. "You know what, Rodrik? You're right." He let Ryon go, tossing him down on the floor.

Elissa sighed in relief as Rodrik turned to his little brother. "Ryon, come here."

"No." Ludd said as one of the Whitehill soldiers picked Ryon up and held him by his shoulders. "We make the trade on neutral soil. Gryff for Ryon. A son for a son."

Rodrik sighed. At least he got Ludd to back down. "Fine."

"Now get the fuck of my hall…" Ludd's face turned murderous as his dark eyes went upon Rodrik. "…and the gods have mercy on us both when the Boltons come for their ironwood. Now go."

"It's been a pleasure, Ludd." Rodrik said sarcastically as Ludd growled.

Gwyn looked at Rodrik apologetically. "I'm so sorry, Rodrik." She thought she could end things peacefully but now she realized how naïve she had been. Rodrik, Elissa, Royland and their men left Highpoint as Ludd's men dragged Ryon away.

"Iron from ice!" Ryon shouted their family motto.