Chapter 45: News from the North
In the South...
Dorne…
Arianne Martell POV
Arianne was in her room flipping through the book her father mentioned to her, trying to find the clue about the Targaryens.
Her son was fast asleep in the crib next to her. The lords were still in Sunspear, waiting for her decision, though she didn't really know who to choose.
As she continued reading, Arianne heard a knock at the door and after giving permission, saw her uncle enter.
"A scroll from the North," he said, giving it immediately, and Arianne unfolding started to read it.
To all the sovereigns of the Southern Kingdom. I Ramsey of House Bolton, Lord of the Dreadfort, informs you that the King in the North Jon of House Stark is dead. Soon the Northern Kingdom will have a new ruler that bears the name of House Bolton.
Every southern that will place a foot on the Northern ground, as long as I'm King, will be flayed alive, and his mutilated body displayed on the shores of the Kingdom.
Signed, Ramsey Bolton lord of Dreadfort and ruler of the North.
Folding the scroll, Arianne got up from the bed, heading towards the table to take a drink of Dornish wine.
"So, he is dead," she said, taking a sip. He was really their only hope to fight the Dothraki. "But I don't understand why this Bolton sent a letter to us. Why inform the South regarding something so delicate?"
"A madman he is nothing else. His father was a much better politician than him, and more cunning."
Arianne nodded, taking a sip, and asking, "News from your daughter?"
"White harbour denied their entrance," Oberyn said filling himself a goblet of wine, before taking a sip. "All the ships coming from Asshai are offshore waiting for permission to enter. Though I doubt that they will stay for too long on the sea."
"Well, it seems Bolton had planned everything perfectly," she said returning to the bed.
"Highgarden has fallen Arianne. And so did House Tyrell," her uncle said, twirling the goblet before taking a sip. "You need to decide quickly regarding who to marry. The lion will soon march on the Prince's Pass and draw to their side the Marches' House."
Arianne, sighing nodded, and slowly approached her son's cradle. "Will you take good care of him, uncle? Will you protect him from any harm that may come from the house that I will choose as consort?"
"Yes. Ellaria will take him to Hellholt, and my daughter Elia will go with them so she will protect the boy when I'm away."
Arianne nodded, squeezing her eyes as she felt the tears coming, at the thought that soon she will be separated from her son, and heard Oberyn approach and ask, "Who will you choose?"
"Cletus Yronwood. I think it's proper to join the two most powerful Houses of Dorne."
"Yes, he is. And I think it's better if you go and inform him. However, put a condition. They will let no one pass the mountain, and they will send men to Lemonwood, where I will head immediately."
Arianne nodded, and after Oberyn left her room, she dressed more properly, and left her room, however leaving trusted guards at the door.
When she reached the great hall, Arianne saw the Lords gathered inside, and once she was seated at the Prince's throne, she said with a high and firm voice, "My lords, my ladies, I'm sorry if I made you wait so long my decision, but it was a very delicate matter that couldn't be decided lightly." She stopped for a moment to take a breath, before continuing, "After a long discussion with my advisors, I have come to the conclusion that the best choice as Prince Consort of Dorne is Ser Cletus of House Yronwood."
Arianne looked the lords and Ladies one by one, before stopping her eyes on the latest heir to house Yronwood, and who now will no longer be. He had a smirk on his face, as he was stepping forward, and kneeling, he said, "Thank you, Princess Arianne. You make my House a great honour by choosing me as your husband and Prince consort."
"The honour is mine, Ser Cletus," she said with a fake smile, before getting serious again. And addressing the others, she said in the same firm and serious tone than before, "The wedding will take place in three days from now. However, I want your armies at Lemonwood immediately."
The Lords started to talk between themselves, but in the end, they all agreed, and the feast started.
Arianne was watching them all attentively as the feast keep going, trying to understand if one of them had the intention to conspire against her, after the revelation of the decision she made.
But nothing could be read from the expressions of the Lords as they were talking laughing and drinking. When her eyes landed on her betrothal, Arianne saw him interact with her brother, Trystan, and immediately went there, wanting to know what they were talking about.
"Ser Cletus," she greeted him, faking a smile.
"Princess Arianne."
"I was wondering since we're getting married soon, it would be better if we got to know each other," better," she said, keeping smiling, and taking another sip of Dornish wine.
"Well, ask whatever you want, princess," he said smirking. "I'm all yours. Body and soul."
She smirked at that taking another sip, as they were heading towards the great balcony of the Great hall. This will be a very interesting night and maybe will make her enemies reveal their secrets.
Highgarden…
Jaime Lannister POV
Now that Highgarden was in their hands, before marching to Oldtown, Jaime gave the order to repair the city and celebrate the victory and the conquest.
And now they were all in the great hall, with the bards playing, while he went out to the balcony to get some air.
"Prince Jaime," he heard a man say, and turning around he saw that it was the two Tarlys. Father and son.
"Lord Tarly," Jaime greeted him. Then turning to the boy, he asked, "And you must be... Rickon?"
"Dickon," replied the young man, and Jaime wanted to burst out laughing but held back.
"I hear you fought bravely against the armies of Hightower. Your first battle?" asked Jaime, watching this green boy who nodded, "And? How was it?"
"It was glorious," the boy responded, trying to look as confident as possible, even though he was failing, but saying this only to appease his father.
"Now that Highgarden has fallen, when will we march on Oldtown?" asked Lord Tarly, changing therefore, the topic of their conversation, and with the corner of his eyes Jaime saw the young boy release a breath of relief.
"As soon as the men are ready, my lord. They fought bravely in this war, and they need a few days for recovery, and regain their strength."
"The more we wait the more our enemy will strengthen," said the old Lord, as they started to head inside, and Jaime agreed with him, but first there were other more important things than this to discuss.
"I know. However, I need to discuss with my father to whom Highgarden will be given."
"Given? I thought it was already established that Highgarden will pass to House Tarly," asked the old Lord and Jaime could sense the irritation and anger in his voice.
"Yes. But if you take Highgarden, to whom Horn Hill will pass?"
"My daughter. Who soon will marry one of the Lannister and therefore they will become the defender of the Marches."
"Well, isn't your request too high, my lord? You want a Lannister Princess for your son, Highgarden, and now another Lannister for your family? I would not open the title of Warden of the South."
"My family betrayed the ruling house of this land, for that price. It was promised by the King," said the man stopping and looking angrily straight in his eyes.
However, before Jaime could say something, they were interrupted by Ser Addam, who said, "A scroll came from the Rock, my Prince," giving him the scroll.
Unfolding it, Jaime read it quickly, before folding it back smiling. Well with the death of the last stark King, the north will be easily conquered by his father, even though, Jaime was looking eagerly to a worthy opponent like Jon Stark. But it seems the Seven had decided otherwise, leaving him with a flayed enemy. Turning to the men who were with him, Jaime said, "Well, it seems the wolf of the North had their troubles."
"What about Highgarden, my Prince? Will it be given to my house?"
"I will write to my father the king. And the decision will be his. Now let's enjoy the feast till we still can," said Jaime heading toward the Westerlands Lords and knights that accompanied him.
Stormlands...
Cersei Lannister POV
They were all gathered in the chambers of the Small Council, for the usual meeting, with all the members present, and Cersei was sitting to the king's left side and the Hand of the king to his right.
They had discussed the news that had come from the North, and her son was very irritated from how the Boston's bastard was addressing to him, since it was a very personal scroll, and he was bursting in anger. But in the end, calmed down and changing the topic. This time Highgarden.
"Has our plan succeeded, Master Robert?" Joffrey asked her old lover, the master of Storm's End, Joffrey, and Cersei turned to him with a sneer, waiting for the news, of which she was already aware.
"Partially, Your Grace. Our men lit the Wildfire, but your grandfather's army was not in the city, but outside. Only the Tyrell army was mostly destroyed."
"And how are the Tyrells doing?" she asked, though what interested her most was her brother's fate.
"Their king is dead. Only two princes survived with their Kingsguard, but they managed to flee the burning city. While Princess Margaery was captured by your uncle's men and sent to Casterly Rock."
Well, apparently her beloved father destroyed Joffrey's plans for the future of Westeros. Not that she wasn't happy. Because Cersei heard so many stories about the Princess of Highgarden, a girl who was so beautiful and yet so deadly and ambitious and clever. Able to manipulate anyone, man or woman. An art no doubt learned from the Queen of Thorns.
"Well, then, we should prepare the kingdom for a future invasion. Lord Hand, you have the work of overseeing the defense of the Stormlands," said her son, getting up. "I want to inform you that in a moon from now I intend to marry Lady Windsdel of King's Landing."
And she was surprised by that, because he didn't talk with her about it, and she turned toward the Maester who raised his shoulder.
"Your Grace, Lady Windsdel of King's Landing It is not a-"
"I decide who to marry, Mother. And I consider Lady Windsdel of King's Landing quite impressive, and also her family," said her son before leaving the room, and with him the council as well.
While Cersei, seeing Robert collect his papers, and ready to leave the room, said, "Master Robert. Escort me to my room. We need to talk."
A few minutes late...
Once they were in her chambers, Cersei sat at her desk, after filling herself a goblet of sweet red wine from Volantis.
Leaning back, and taking a sip of wine, she asked, "Why didn't you inform me that my son was getting married?"
"I didn't know, C-Your grace," he said apologetically.
"You had plenty of spies and you didn't know that my son wanted to marry that whore?" she asked, taking another sip.
"With all the respect, your grace, but I don't have spies in his mind," he said, and she could feel the venom on the title he was using.
"Fair," she said, taking another sip, looking at him, before saying. "Tell me everything you found since we last talk."
"Lord Stannis is gathering the most influential and powerful lords of the Stormlands to strike against the king, and I'm pretty sure he will use the day of the wedding to expose the proof that Prince Joffrey isn't a Baratheon, but yours and Jaime's."
"And How did he find out?" she asked, irritated by the news. This wasn't supposed to happen. She destroyed all the proves, and especially, she killed all her husband's bastards.
"I don't know, Your Grace. He also is aware that Tommen isn't his nephew too."
"Damn him!" she cursed. "I want you to poison him."
"Your grace, we don't know who others is aware of this. If we move against the Hand, we may end in a very bad situation."
"Damn him. Damn him and all his Baratheon line," she said angrily, hitting the goblet that was on the table spilling all the wine on the floor.
She heard him approach, and kneeling, he said, "The king wrote to the bank of Braavos, asking for an investment to hire mercenary' companies."
"When?"
"Two weeks ago. But received no words yet. However," he stopped, rising up, and picking up the goblet from the floor. "The condition that they will ask are very high."
"What are their conditions, Robert?"
"That the King marries Daenirha Fregar, and Dragonstone when the king will conquer it."
"Joffrey will never accept these conditions," she said, getting up. And neither she will accept them Joffrey will never marry a whore from Braavos, and neither they will lose an important island as Dragonstone when it will be theirs.
"I'm afraid he can't have a say on this if he wants the Iron Bank support," he said, and she could feel that he was right behind her, and she knows he wants to fuck her since it passed a lot since he did that. But with her, his little tricks don't work. Stepping away, she said, "go and inform the king of this."
She heard him sigh and leave the room.
Now Cersei will need to make new plans to protect her children's legacy. And she will need to be smarter and more cunning than the Iron Bank. And to do that she will need to invite them to Storm's end. So sitting at her desk, and taking a paper, she street to write the letter.
Dragonstone…
Godfrey POV
Folding the scroll that he received from the North, Godfrey turned his attention toward the great opening of the room of the painted table, and with the hands behind his back.
"When I was a little boy and standing in this same spot, I always wondered why my ancestors accepted these islands and the point of the ex-Crownlands as a payment. But now I know. Do you know why he did, Steapa?"
"I don't understand politics, but I'm a soldier, a warrior. And as a warrior, I can tell you that with the right amount of supply and the right number, you can hold this island against any enemy."
"Exactly," he said, glancing at the Capitan of the guards of Dragonstone. "But politically, I would say, that we have one of the luckiest islands. Especially because we are living in a very delicate moment for Westeros."
"What do you mean?"
"That we are living on a precious mine and that I'm going to sell the Dragonglass at a very high price to the North."
"And if they found what you have done?"
"Well, if they failed, then Dragons and the wolf from the north will come after us," Godfrey said, hearing the doors opening, and turning around, he saw his advisor enter. "Even though I had doubts considering that the Stark King is dead, and the Queen is now a prisoner."
Sitting on the chairs, Godfrey asked, "Any news from our assassins? Did they succeed?"
Clearing his thought, the Master of whispers says, "Yes, your grace. They failed to take the girl."
"Well, at least if they are dead, no one will know who sent them," said Godfrey, taking a sip.
"What we will do on that matter, your grace?" asked Maester Harlot, turning to him
"We follow another road. One in the light of the sun, and no longer in the shadow of the night," responded Godfrey, taking another sip of Myrish wine. "Now that the king in the North is dead, and the queen kidnaped, I want to propose a new alliance to the current ruler of the North, Ashara Dayne. And I have fate that she will agree."
"What makes you sure that she will?" asked Monford Velaryon, with a bitter on his voice. He knows that his house was still pissed because a sellsword became their ruler, and that they lost most of their wealth after the so-called dance of dragons for staying on the side of the Dragons.
And Monford was blaming him for the death of his daughter, Alarra Velaryon, Malekith's mother, no matter how many times Godfrey said that it wasn't his fault.
"Your grace?"
"Yes. Yes. Soon I'm going to take a new wife. More precisely, Lady Meredyth, the daughter of Lord Renfred Rykker, who, as I can see, isn't present."
"Why a Rykker? Why not another Velaryon or a Celtigar?"
"That's my business. Now. Soon King Tywin will have the control of the other kingdoms, and when he will come, we will bend the knee."
"What if before him, someone else will come and demand us to bend the knee," said Celtigar. "Someone like King Joffrey Baratheon. He is cruel, evil, mad."
"Yes. And that's why we are going to make an alliance with his kingdom. Or to be more precise with Lord Stannis Baratheon."
"Why?" asked Velaryon, and all these questions were starting to piss him off, but trying to be as calm as possible, Godfrey, taking a long breath said, "Because our spies informed me that Lord Stannis is planning a rebellion to overthrone the false King Joffrey Baratheon because he isn't a true Baratheon."
"Do you want to propose a marriage between Prince Malekit and Lady Shireen?" asked Celtigar.
"No. Not with the prince, but with the Son of Lord Velaryon."
"Monterys? But he is only seven, your grace. He is too young for Lady Shireen who is eleven. Not to mention she has greyscale. No one in his right mind would accept that."
"Are you refusing such a high honour from your king?" asked Godfrey, greeting his teeth.
"No, your grace. But what you propose is unhonourable. It's shamefully-"
"Your house has fallen in disgrace after the Targaryen lost the Iron throne, and now you are struggling to keep your wealth and castle. If you don't agree with this, I may start to look for a new more favourable Lord of the Driftmark," cut him of Godfrey, and the lord lowered his head.
"I will send Aurane Waters as our envoy to the Stormlands," said Godfrey. "Now you all may leave."
Once the only one left in the room was him and Steapa, Godfrey heard his Capitan said, "Velaryon will try to do something against you, now."
"I know. That's exactly what I want," Godfrey said, filling two cups, before giving one to Steapa, and then taking a sip from his own. "I want you to increase Malekith's training."
"Isn't he too young, you grace."
"He needs to be the best fighter of Westeros. So you will train him," Godfrey said, getting up, and after finishing the goblet heading to the forge. He wanted to inspect the progress the smith did in forging this Dragonglass.
Westerlands…
Gerion Lannister POV
Everything was ready for his departure to Castamere, and as he was heading towards the courtyard where his escort was waiting for him, Gerion saw one of the Kingsguard come his way saying, "The king demands your presence in his office urgently."
Gerion nodded and followed the Kingsguard to the King's office.
Upon entering, he saw that Lord Varys was there too, and when they saw him, stopped talking.
"I was told that you wanted to see me, your grace."
"Yes, sit down," the king said, and Gerion obeyed. Then he saw that there was a scroll in front of him, and curios asked, "What is that?"
"News from the north. The King is dead, Bolton kidnaped the Queen and is preparing his army to fight the Stark loyalists," his grandfather said.
"Well, then these are wonderful news," said Gerion, eagerly and chuckling. "With the north in chaos, and torn by war, it will be easy to conquer it."
"Yes, it will. However, there are concerning news coming from beyond the wall," his grandfather said, before turning to the Spider. "Tell him."
"An army of the dead man is marching on the wall, and once it falls the North will fall with it," Varys said, and Gerion burst out in a laugh, holding his belly, before seeing his grandfather's serious face, and saying, "I didn't take you for a believer of such childish stories, grandfather."
"I don't, but, still, better safe than sorry."
"So? Are you going to send an army to man the wall?" asked Gerion chuckling, with a leg on his knees, and his fingers intertwined.
"No. I'm going to build a wall in the neck, once The Riverlands had fallen. My spies informed me that Edmure Tully had gathered 15 thousand men and is on his way to the Twin, ready to cross the trident."
"Then it seems that I have less time to spend with my beloved wife," said Gerion getting up, but a look of his grandfather and he sit again.
"I haven't finished," the king said with his cold stare and continued. "Yes, you had less time than expected, but still enough time to put a child in her womb. Now, the kingdom that worries me the most is the Iron Islands. With the return of Euron Greyjoy, every spy of mine on the Iron Islands has died, and I don't have an ear in the crow's court."
"My own little birds can't breach through their security, my king. Everyone who entered Pike, the next day is found hanged on the high wall of the city. More precisely, where the throne room is."
"I want your little birds to room the Islands and every castle. I want to know every move, every step, every sail," said the king. Then turning to him, he said, "And I want you to double the guards at Castamere and review the defenses. No one needs to breach inside. No one."
"I will," responded Gerion.
"Now go." And the Prince left the study heading towards his men outside the keep.
The Vale…
Harrold Hardyng POV
He was still recovering from his wounds caused by the attack of the loyalist of that Tully bitch who wants the crown of the Cale back when he was heading to deal with the Mountain Clans. Therefore now he has neither the alliance with those damn savages, and neither the straight to go outside and lead the army to the gates of the traitors.
"You shouldn't tire yourself, my love," came the voice of his wife, and turning around he saw her enter with a tray in her hand, carrying something he didn't know what it was.
But Harry, turning back to look outside the window, said, "There are the servants for that, you know?"
"I know. But that doesn't mean that I can't carry a tray by myself."
"Any news from your father?" asked Harry, approaching his wife and kissing her before taking a sip of wine. "No. There aren't new news of my father," she said starting to untie the stripes and change them. "However, there are news from the North," she added, pointing at the scroll that was laying on the tire.
"Well, finally. I thought they would never have responded," he said, picking it up, unfolding it, and starting to read it quickly.
After finishing it, Harry puts the scroll down and started laughing hard, therefore his wounds were starting to hurt making him groan.
"Easy, Harry. If you make too many moves with your body, your wound will open up again and you will lay in bed again for many days."
"Yes, yes," he responded in an annoyed voice, as Ysilla was finishing to wrap the strips, and when he wanted to say something more, his wife tightened the strips, sending a wave of shivers through his body making him groan. "Easy, woman!"
"What? I thought it didn't hurt," she said, smirking and giving him a quick kiss on the shoulders. "Now, let's put a shirt and your tunic, before going for a morning walk."
As his wife was helping him dress up, to his annoyance since there was the servant to help for that, Harry, saying, "I find this Bolton so funny with his little treating letters. The North will soon burst in chaos and he is threatening to kill every southern that put a foot on his land."
"Well, I heard he is a mad man. So, this is not a surprise," she said, helping him with the tunic.
"Gods, I want to be inside you," Harry said, sniffing her amazing scent of flower and morning bath.
Ysilla laughed, and ignoring his comment continued, as she was buttoning him up, "However, what I find strange is that the queen is with him, and not searching for her child, who by now must be already dead."
"Who cares about the dragon whore and her bastard. They denied my proposal for an alliance. I would say this is a punishment from the old gods and the new for bringing the wilding from beyond the wall."
"It is hypocritical of you to say such things, considering that you wanted to make an alliance with the Wildlings of the Vale," she muttered, and Harry, grabbing her by the jaws, said, "Never again say something like this again. Did you understand?"
She nodded, and he crashed his lips with hers before getting up, and together, leaving the room.
In the North…
Dreadfort…
Ramsey Bolton POV
Ramsey was standing at the table in the great hall, watching the map of the North and the map of the Dread fort, planning the best way to greet the Stark army, and per suggestion of the queen, fight them on. His terms. Her at the Dreadfort.
"You know, Ramsey. Sometimes I really don't understand you. This girl insulted you, is playing you and yet you do nothing. If it was a common woman you would have already flayed, reaped, and put her in place."
"Yes, but she isn't a common woman, isn't she?" said Ramsey, looking at him for a moment before returning his attention to the map. Dreadfort had many secret passages, and according to the queen, some of the Starks commanders know them. And that wasn't good.
After a while, Ramsey heard the door opening and saw Daenerys entering. It was plenty clear that she wasn't in a good mood and as she approached, Ramsey asked, "what is with that gloomy face, my queen? Did you not sleep well?"
"No, quite the opposite. I slept perfectly. It was the morning that was a nightmare," responded the queen filling herself a goblet of wine, before taking a sip.
"And why is that?" asked Ramsey, watching her carefully, how her chin lifted up, and her throat was gulping.
"Your whore keeps pestering me with her jealously," she murmured.
"Who? Myranda?" he asked, knowing perfectly it was her because, since the day the queen was brought, she kept pestering him. "Don't mind her. She is just a poor girl that mounted her head regarding the attentions of a lord."
"I want you to end with her. Now. And send her away."
"Why?" He asked, approaching her and wrapping the arms around her waist.
"Because I'm a dragon," she said, tilting her neck, granting him access, "And dragons don't like to share."
"Neither I do," he whispered, kissing her neck, and starting to lift his hand up towards her breasts, but she stopped him by grabbing his hand. "I told you. You won't touch me till the wedding night."
But Ramsey, starting to get tired of her game, grabbed her by the neck, saying "Why don't you moan when I kiss you? You know I could take you right now, on this table, or break your neck if I would want."
"Yes. You could. But you won't. Because you know that without me, you will not get the North. I'm the heir and I'm the queen. And if you want to be the king, you will put your hands down from, me."
Ramsey was angry, and turning her around, he pinned her down to the table, starting to lift her dress, but heard her saying in almost a choking voice, "Do it, and this will be your end, Bolton."
And Ramsey froze at seeing her fearless. She had a burning fire in her eyes that may melt the big Wall in the North. He slowly let her go, and after adjusting her dress, she said, "I'm going for a walk and take some fresh air and leave this hall, that became too gloomy for my taste."
"What did I tell you, Ramsey? She knows how to play you. She saw your weaknesses. You should kill her before she kills you."
Close your mouth and go and follow her. I want to know everything. Who she talks, who she sees, and what she is plotting."
Soren nodded, but leaving the hall, he said, "She had a knife in the sleeves and was going to kill you, Ramsey."
Now that the only one inside was him, Ramsey sighed, filling his goblet again. Soren was right regarding her, but he can manage her.
Soren Snow POV
The Targaryen girl was walking through the courtyard, looking at the people who were working, making their weapons, and improving the defenses of the castle.
Soren was watching her attentively. Every step, every glance every smile and every word she says he made note of if. He really didn't trust the girl and know that soon she will make her move.
He saw her suddenly stop near a group of soldiers who were training and talk to the leader of the group, a man he didn't' recognize, but had the colors of Ramsey's new elite.
She asked for a sword, and it seems she wanted to train with the leader of the group, as the others stopped training and made space for the two of them.
Twirling the sword, the queen took her position in a very unusual way, and smirking was waiting for her enemy to attack.
They start to fight, and Soren could say that he was very impressed by the queen's skills with the sword. Of course, she wasn't the Gareth Arthur Dayne, but still a good one.
The two fought for a long time, and the queen, even though with a great difficulty managed to defeat her enemy, before leaving the training yard.
"What is your name?" asked Soren approaching.
"Leontes," said the resting his hand on the sword. "How may I help you?"
"What did she want?"
"Just to train with us. She said that it was long since she had time to train with the sword and face a worthy opponent."
"Where are you from? You don't have a northern name and neither a northern accent."
"No. I don't. My mother was a Tyroshy whore, and she raised me up. I was a pit fighter and heard that Lord Bolton is hiring men for his army."
Soren looked at him one last time before leaving without another word and following the queen all around the castle.
A few hours later…
Soren returned to the keep and to the great hall, where Ramsey was with some men, and at seeing him asked, "Yes? What is it?"
"I followed the queen."
"And?" Ramsey asked with expectation, but Soren looked at the other first, and Bolton, said, "Out."
"Nothing. She trained. She talked with men and the people of the Dreadfort. She wandered all around the castle. And nothing."
"Good," Bolton said, turning his attention back to the map, and starting to work on it.
"Have you spent all day in her?" Soren asked, approaching but Bolton didn't respond, instead asked, "Any news from the two Northern companies that I hired from Essos?"
"No. But I'm sure they sailed," said Soren, leaning on the table and watching the marked map on which Bolton was working. It was clear as day, that it was a war plan, with important strategies against the enemy. "What makes you sure that what you are planning will work."
"Because I planned this, and they aren't clever enough to discover it and make opposition to it."
After some silence, in which Soren was twisting a Bolton statue in his hand, he heard Bolton say, "I have time to think regarding your warning about the queen. And you are right. The only way to bend her is to break her. However, to do so first I will need to marry her."
"And when that will happen? Before or after she sticks a knife in your heart?"
"In one week from today. Tonight, I'm going to inform her of this."
"Good. Will you share her too, my lord?" asked Soren, filling himself a goblet of wine.
"No. She belongs only to me. She will please only me with her body," Bolton said.
"Then a toast to your wedding," he said raising the goblet. He was sure that she will try to kill Ramsey the night of the wedding.
Ramsey Bolton POV
They were dining alone in the great hall, in silence, hearing only the cracking of wood of the fireplace, the eating movement, and the drinking.
And not bearing this silence, Ramsey says, "I hear you went to train with my men."
"Yes. As I told you this keep was rather gloomy and I wanted to clear my head," she said, looking at him, before taking a piece of meat in her mouth, and Ramsey smirked.
"Tell me, do you know the name Melisandre?" asked Ramsey, getting up and taking the jug that was on the table to pour some wine in her goblet.
"Yes. A red Priestess from Asshai, that visited Winterfell a long time ago."
"Yes, a Red Priestess. You know, I heard a funny thing about this red Priestess."
"And what did you hear, my lord?" she asked, taking a sip from her goblet and gazing up at him, leaning back and crossing her legs.
That they can give birth to shadows," he said, returning back to his seat.
The queen started to laugh, before saying, "For that, she will need King's Blood and the king is dead."
"Yes, I know that too. However, the stories say that can bring back the dead," he said this time seriously, but to his irritation, the queen keeps laughing at him.
"Oh, Ramsey, Ramsey. Are you afraid of the dead?"
"I fear nothing and no one. I only want to know what you did to his body."
Daenerys stopping from the laughs leaned forward, saying with a serious tone, "We burned it. Three days after his return." And drained all the content of the goblet with one breath before licking her lips. "Now. I'm sure you have something very important to tell me, isn't it?"
"Yes. But first, there is a guest that we are awaiting," Ramsey said, recovering from the shock, and he saw the guards bring in the old cripple, who was walking slowly and with difficulty.
"You have a very bad look, my friend," said Ramsey smirking getting up with a goblet win his hand and giving it to him. "Take a sip. I'm sure your throat is dry."
The men took a sip before spitting in his face the content and hitting him with his head. "Damn you!" yelled Ramsey from the floor, feeling the blood coming down from his nose, and the guards start to hit the old man, bringing him on his knee.
"Enough!" came the voice of the queen, coming to help him get up from the floor. "Why is he here?"
"Well, he is here to hear our wonderful news, but it seems he wants to join his ancestor before hearing that," said Ramsey, taking the sword from one of the soldiers.
"Yes," the queen said, stepping between him and Aerys Targaryen. "My response to the wedding is yes, but for that to happen, he needs to be alive. He will give me away-"
"And he will die in that same moment-"
"Or I will kill you before you even touch her," the Targaryen said, with greeted teeth and a challenging stare. Well, one thing was clear. The Queen's temper comes from her father.
"We will see, Lord Hand."
"I don't fear death. And I don't fear you."
"Well, if you didn't then you would have already tried to kill me in this instant."
But the man didn't respond, and Ramsey, turning to his soldiers said, "Take him away, and give him a lesson that he will never forget."
Then turning to the queen, he asked, "How did you know that I was going to ask you to marry me?"
"Your trusted man told me," she said, returning back to her seat, and this was the proof that she was a great player. But not as great as she thing because he still had tricks in his sleeves. And Ramsey left the hall to go to the master and treat his broken nose.
Jon Stark POV
Jon was running through a snowy field, chasing a white wolf that was like a ghost, changing direction far and wide, and sometimes he lost track of him before he reappeared again.
As he was running, Jon could feel that he was neither tired nor breathless, and it was as if a supernatural force was helping him in this quest, which even he did not know what it was.
Jon saw the wolf in the distance stop in front of a forest full of Weirwoods in the distance, and then turning towards him, he howled for a long time, and Jon followed him.
The thing he noticed was that inside the forest there was no more snow, but spring. He was no longer running, but walking, slowly, looking around.
After what seemed like hours, Jon reached the end of the forest and saw that it was jutting out on a cliff. The cliff that he dreamed of after the duel with the giants, and where there was the Weirwood of the Gods.
In front of the Great Weirwood, Jon saw the woman made of leaves waiting for him with the white wolf, whom now he recognized him as Ghost, beside her.
"You have been very reckless in your expedition beyond the wall young king, and your recklessness is about to condemn your whole kingdom to ruin..." said the woman floating in the wind, "Your queen is in the hands of the flayed man, the sworn enemy of the wolves; Your enemies of the New Gods crave your children; the fire of the Lord of Light will burn the Old Gods with its dark flames."
Jon was overwhelmed by the revelations. He saw through Ghost's eyes that Daenerys was suffering because of his death, but now being in the claws of Bolton was unimaginable. Recovering from this revelation, he asked, "Who are you? Did the Old Gods send you?"
"Yes, Jon Stark," said the woman, intertwining her leafy fingers." The old gods are angry with you, young king."
"Why?!" shouted Jon. "Did I not unite the true North. Am I not making it richer? The North is ready to challenge the Great Other!"
"Perhaps the North is ready to face him, but who will lead it in the Great War!" said a loud, thunderous voice of a man, which stirred Weirwood behind the woman, and his face changed.
Jon did not respond, lowering his head, and releasing a sigh of defeat for the subject.
"Now. The price for your return will be very high, and it will be up to you to choose whether you will still serve the Old Gods of your ancestors or serve the new and cruel God of Flame."
Feeling a great heat behind him, Jon turned around and saw that the forest was on fire. And then in the distance came a white shadow at great speed landing in front of him in the form of a great dragon, making the ground tremble.
Jon fell to the ground on his back and saw the woman leaf floating in the air around him.
"What is this?" asked Jon, trying to get up. "The defense of your kingdom."
Then lean on him and placing her hand on his chest, the woman said, "But it's not this what the Old Gods of the North wants you to see."
With that said, Jon's mind was filled with events that happened in the last year, that are going to happen in the next years, and that had happened in ancient times.
His Dany ruling the North; the Followers of the Red God, bending Westeros to its faith, by burning the idols and the temples and the Weirwoods; And in the end, he saw the cold stare of a boy with auburn hairs and blue eyes, sitting on an Ice throne with White Shadows around him, and the Night Queen behind him in the shadow.
"Enough!" screamed Jon, feeling that his head was bursting, "I can take no more," he said, crying and holding his head.
"This will happen if you bend to the Red God will, and pay the price for your resurrection," the woman said, before everything become dark again, and the only thing he was feeling was coldness and death.
Winterfell…
Viserys Targaryen POV
"He sleeps so peacefully," Viserys said, as he was rocking the cradled where his nephew was lying. "Unaware of the chaos that now is happening in this Kingdom that one day will be his."
"He knows what it's happening in the Kingdom. He feels that his father is dead, his mother is lost, his sister is hidden. He can feel it. I thought you would understand that," Dacey said as she was tending to her sword.
It was their turn to guard the little prince, and Dacey was quite restless because of his presence here. She was still not at ease with what happened between them when he returned.
Sighing, Viserys approaching her, who was sitting next to the fireplace. "Why are you like this?"
"Like what?" she snapped, in a quiet voice.
"Always grumpy."
"What did you say!" she raised her voice, pointing the sword at him, and he shushed her, pointing at the cradle.
"Sorry, It's just…. Since the night we slept together, you are always angry with me. Did I do something-"
"You made me break my oaths," she said, looking at the fire, and placing the sword to the side.
"Made you break your oats?" he said confusedly. "What the hell are you talking about."
"Own no lands, take no wife, father no children."
"Are you pregnant?"
"Old gods, no. Of course no," she said, looking at him before returning her attention back to the dancing fire.
Viserys wanted to say something more, but they suddenly hear a knock on the door, and immediately, grabbed the sword, with Dacey heading to the cradle, and Viserys to the door.
"Who is it?"
"Robb," came the voice from the other side, and opening it a bit too peck, he saw that it was really him. Opening, Robb entered, and Viserys saw that he was fully armored.
"What is it?"
"Wanted to see the little prince," he said, approaching the cradle and Dacey stepped away for a moment, asking, "Why do you wear the Armour, Robb?"
"I'm leaving," he said quietly, looking at the baby. "You need to protect the baby, so that he may rule one day."
"Leaving? Where are you going?" asked Dacey, but Robb didn't respond, before heading towards the door, and leaving the room, without another word.
Viserys glanced at her before, closing the door to follow him. He needs to find out where he is heading.
Rhaegar Targaryen POV
"Now that Bolton has the heirs of the Norther's Lord, they will do what he wants. Our spies inform us that Manderly denied the entry to every ship, and those ships are full of Dragonglass from Asshai," said Rhaegar, to those who were present. Queen Ashara, Shiera, Grey Worm, and SmallJon.
"Maybe we should do what Robb said. Gather the army and march on the Dreadfort," said Ashara looking at him.
"We can't put the Queen and the heirs in danger. And besides that the Northern Lords may attack from behind, therefore trapping us between the Dreadfort and their army," he responded looking at all of them.
Before they could continue, Rhaegar saw Maester Luwin coming in and giving Queen Ashara a scroll.
"What is it?" he asked, sensing that the scroll contains bad news.
"Your great-great-uncle, Daeron, is dead. Dragon Castel had been attacked," she said, passing him the scroll, and Rhaegar read it immediately, with the heart in his throat before releasing a sigh. "My mother is alive," then turning to Grey worm he added, "Se dārilaros iksis ȳgha tolī." (The princess is safe too.)
"Now returning to the Dreadfort. Beside the armies of the North, I'm sure Bolton is laying traps there because he wants for us to fight on his terms and on his ground, and-" Rhaegar stopped when one of the Unsullied entered and whispered something to Grey worm.
"What is it?"
"Robb Snow left with wildings," said the Commander of the Unsullied, and Rhaegar turned towards Shiera who shakes her head, before storming out of the room heading towards the courtyard.
"What the hell did he do!" exclaimed Rhaegar once he was on the battlements of Winterfell seeing in the distance Robb and the Wildings leaving Winterfell. "Damn him!" cursed Rhaegar, heading quickly down towards the stable, but stopped by Shiera.
"That's what he has to do."
"But he will put my sister in danger!"
"No, he won't," she said, placing her hand on his cheek, but that didn't extinguish the anger that he felt. "Se jēda ēza māzigon. Se mōris hen ñellgūrore vali iksis māzis se se jēda hen zokla se se rising hen zaldrīzes iksis bē īlva." (The time has come. The end of the flayed man is approaching, and the hour of the wolf and the rising of the dragon is upon us.)
He nodded, sighing in defeat, leaning down to kiss her, but heard the guards yell, "RIDERS! Riders are coming!"
And turning around, Rhaegar saw a hooded red figure, followed by some men entering the courtyard, before climbing down.
And once in front of him, she said, "Valar Morghūlis." And pulling down the hood, revealing the face of a beautiful red-haired woman, with a shining necklace on her neck.
"Valar Dohaeris."
"Skoriot iksis se dārys's ñelly?" the woman in red asked.
"Who are you."
"My name is Melisandre of Asshai."