Jon clutched Arya's wrist as they ran through the pitch of night, determined to get his sister to safety. His lungs were starting to burn and his heart pounded at a punishing pace as they pushed through the dark.

The moon offered little light to guide them, and he could scarcely see more than a few paces in front of him.

The gates were open. Was this some kind of trap? If not, they could breach the defenses of Harrenhal itself. They could end the war… tonight. At least this part of it.

The faint outline of a white horse came into view just before he went barreling into it.

"Stop right there!" a voice commanded.

Jon exhaled a breath when he recognized the rider, a soldier from the North named Gaven, but he still kept Arya behind him, shielding her protectively. Her friends were still with them, though the larger boy lagged behind.

Jon was gasping for breath as he prepared to speak, when a second soldier rode up beside the first, demanding to know who they were.

Gaven gasped, dismounting his horse. "Your Grace! How did you escape?!"

"The castle gates are open! You have to tell King Robb, " he told him urgently.

Growing more impatient by the second, Jon felt his hackles rise. "Did you hear me? The gates of Harrenhal are open! Take my sister to King Robb at once and tell him! Gather all the lords!"

"Yes…Your Grace," Gaven stuttered, holding out a hand to Arya.

She dodged away and gave Jon a wide-eyed stare. "You're not coming with me?"

"I've got to find Daenerys, little sister. I've got to make sure she knows what's going on. Help her with the dragons." He put his hands on her shoulders, "Arya, go to Robb, tell him everything you know about the castle. If anyone knows the ins and outs, it's you."

She nodded reluctantly and he kissed her forehead before ruffling her messy hair.

As Arya let Gavn help her get seated on a mount, Jon looked to the sky, finding it empty. "Where is Queen Daenerys?"

"Eastern treeline, " the other soldier told him. "With the dragons."

Still looking at the sky, Jon demanded simply, "I will be needing your sword and your horse."

The soldier acquiesced, undoing the scabbard at his waist and handing it to Jon.

Securing his borrowed weapon hastily, he clambered onto the white courser, and called back over his shoulder, "Go! Ride hard!" Then he set his sights east.


The candles on his table were half-burned as he stared at his map with the fraying edges. He'd thought about getting another but it seemed bad luck to part with it, his most constant companion in this hellish endeavor.

He'd taken a trebuchet from the cryvasse game and turned it in his hand. Some men had started constructing one as soon as they'd arrived and he'd been assured it would be ready a few days time. A huge expenditure, one he could scarcely afford but everything was riding on the success of this siege- his title, his kingdom, his very life.

To everyone else he showed only confidence, the king couldn't doubt or despair, but at night the knot in his chest tightened as he wondered if this had been the right decision. He wished Jon were here. His brother was someone he could confide in. Theon was too arrogant to understand the weight of such a responsibility.

Talisa.

More than anyone he longed for her and the way she looked at him. Like she believed he could do anything. The thought of her on the other side of the Narrow Sea, hearing of his victories, making her proud... motivated him in a way nothing else could.

Daenerys would be with her dragons by now, preparing to set them loose on the castle again. He'd sent near a hundred men with her as a precaution. Honor demanded he keep his good sister safe.

An urgent call at the door, had him setting the trebuchet down over the image of Harrenhal before he got up to answer.

He was met by a guard looking harried and red-faced, a strange filthy boy at his side.

"Your Grace, the gates to Harrenhal are open. Your sister and brother escaped."

Robb stood stunned for a moment before whipping his head toward the filthy boy again. "Arya!?"

He pulled her against his chest. "How...?. What are you doing here? Are you alright? What's going on?"

"Jaqen H'ghar, he opened the gates and killed the guards! Jon and I fled! The gates are still open!"

Robb shook his head. "What? Who in seven hells is that and why would he do that?"

"He's my friend. Owed me a favor."

"Where's Jon?'

"He went to find Daenerys and the dragons!"

It sounded too good to be true, it must be a trap.

He stood and clapped the guard on the back. "Gather one hundred good men and scout out the castle."

He turned to a guard at his door. "Gather the lords. All of them." With that, he ushered his little sister inside.


Jon flexed the muscles of his right hand while his stomach bubbled with nerves as the edge of the wood came into view. He squinted, searching for signs of life and a dreadful fear turned in his mind that maybe the soldier had been wrong.

Riding back and forth, he scrutinized the thick forest. He began to feel defeated until he spotted a pair of red eyes burning holes in the emptiness.

Relieved, he slumped in his seat before climbing down to reunite with his great wolf. As he reached out to pat his head, an archer stepped out under the light of the pale moon, with an arrow aimed at his chest.

"That's close enough, friend."

Jon held up empty hands and opened his mouth to speak when another voice had the hair standing up on the back of his neck.

"Stop!, " he heard Dany's forceful command.

The archer, whom he now recognized as Alysane, lowered her weapon.

Dany stepped out from the foliage and put her hand over her heart. "Jon?"

He cursed the faint light of the moon and stars for giving him so little of her, but he couldn't mistake the pale glow of her hair pulled back away from her face.

For so many days and nights he'd dreamed of little else but her, rehearsing again and again what he'd do and say. Now he felt paralyzed and helpless before her.

Taking a steadying breath, he said the only words he could find."It's me, Dany."

He heard her sob as excited whispers broke out around her, a forest full of hidden warriors.

She ran to him, his head in such a daze that he froze for a moment when she wrapped her arms around him before tenderly returning her embrace. His fingers ran down her crown and cradled her head under his chin.

Her warm fingers were slipping over the sides of his face, her lips brushing against his so sweetly he felt his whole body grow weak.

"You're really here, " she whispered against his mouth, making him sigh. She was safe, he was free and her embrace was home.

"Welcome back, Dragonwolf, " he heard Rickard Karstark greet him gruffly, bringing him back to the moment. "Were you followed?"

"No, My Lord," he replied, not taking his eyes off Dany.

Dacey rushed forward, cheerfully calling his name and he reluctantly broke his embrace with Dany to let the girl wrap him in a hearty hug.

Stepping back again, she clapped him on the back. "You've been sorely missed! Your Dragon Queen has been training every day to come to your rescue."

"I know, " he said simply, looking down on his lovely wife again to see her wiping her eyes. He squeezed her hand.

"How did you get out?," Dany asked breathlessly. "How did you escape?"

"Arya."

"Your sister? She was there?"

"Aye, " he replied, feeling dumbfounded by everything the night had brung. "I don't know how ..., but some friend of hers opened the gates… killed the guards."

Jon turned back to the soldiers who were emerging from the trees. "The gates of Harrenhal were opened! Are open! If Robb can get there quick enough, they'll be invading the castle!"

Dany's hands were suddenly grasping his forearms, her voice full of determination. "We could take Tywin himself."

He kissed her forehead. "Aye. Are you alright?" He asked earnestly. "Is everything ok with the babe?"

"We've been fine, " she told him, using both hands to tuck his hair behind his ears. "But we're much better now. Are you… alright?"

"I am now."

Heat burned across his cheeks when he remembered they had an audience and he cleared his throat. "My Lord and Ladies. We need to come up with a plan."

"Come with us, " Dany added.

With that, she took Jon's wrist and pulled him through the trees, the Mormont sisters and Lord Karstark following. Being in her presence again, with his direwolf faithfully at his side, had the near constant tension that had riddled his body fading away.

They moved past the Mormont and Karstark men who parted for them, giving Jon wide eyed nods. No doubt in awe of the man they believed to have escaped the dungeons of the most formidable keep in Westeros.

As they entered a clearing, the dragons were waiting as patiently as he'd ever seen them and his mouth fell open to see how much they had grown. Dreamfyre was now bigger than Ghost, his crimson scales popping out against the black, and Rhaegal and Viserion were not far behind.

All three perked up as they took notice of their presence, Rhaegal came forward excitedly, holding out his snout for Jon to pet.

Lord Karstark and the Mormont sisters kept their distance from the scaly beasts.

"There's something I have to tell you," Jon said, running his hand over Rhaegal's scales.

Dany looked at him curiously.

"When you set the dragons on the castle last night, I was able to skin change into Rhaegal… like I do with Ghost."

Dany furrowed her brow. "You were able to take control of a dragon?" She looked at Dreamfyre. "Has anyone done that before?"

He felt a strange sense of guilt as he tried to read her solemn expression. "I don't know, but I'm going to try it again now. They will be of more use if we can direct their movements."

"Yes, of course."

He tugged on her waist and pulled her close to him again. "That means I won't be of any use to you if something happens."

She gave him a weak smile. "Lord Karstark and the Mormonts will keep me safe.. and if nothing else, I have my horse nearby."

Her mood seemed to shift and he closed his eyes at the sweet feel of her fingers through his beard. Suddenly, an unexpected shame began to wash over him. Shame at the state of his dirty and tattered clothes, shame at being captured at all and leaving her on her own.

A soft gasp escaped his lips as her small fingers caressed his cheeks, cradling his head in her hands as she peered up at him. His hands moved over hers instinctively, and he was overwhelmed by her touch which he had longed for so long.

"I was so worried I'd never see you again, " she whispered. "No one is going to take you from me again."

Her words had his blood pumping and he took her lips hungrily, delighting in her surprised little yelp. "Shall we provide Tywin's men with a distraction, then?"


Robb didn't know what he felt as he rode under

the cursed gates of the castle. Haunted and twisted, a stronghold of the damned, the sounds of war were already screaming from under the archway as he passed beneath.

Surrounded by the noble men of his honor guard and Grey Wind, his preternatural companion, fear was still a nagging pit in his stomach.

If he'd learned anything at the Whispering Wood or Oxcross, it was that the Gods took soldiers indiscriminately. Even as King, he was a soldier, and in the chaos of war anything could happen. It wasn't fear of death that plagued him, but fear of failure, failure that would follow his name for all time.

The King who lost the North, they'd call him.

Shield in hand, he gripped the handle tighter as he chanced a look above at the menacing murder holes. He felt all his senses heighten, much like he did on those nights hunting in the forests as a hungry wolf.

The yard already smelled of blood and shit, a storm of movement, swords and arrows cleaving and piercing flesh. A sudden barrage of tortured shrieks had him whipping his head around to see boiling liquid dropping down through the ceiling of the gateway, his own men convulsing and writhing in agony.

He growled from deep in his belly, before shouting to Lord Umber seated at his side. "Take your men and secure the battlements!"

In the thick of the struggle then, he joined his men, hacking slicing at any Lannisters soldier who dared come close enough to his reach.

Overhead came the woosh of wings, bolts of fire lighting up the night. The biggest dragon lit up the towers as he'd been trained to do, the smaller white one following close behind. The green dragon, however, was raining down fire on the battlements. Robb's stomach lurched, worried harm would come to his men as much as Tywin's but it seemed the clever beast was attacking only soldiers in red.

Breathing rapidly, blood was pumping in his ears when he spotted the black and sinister demon helm of Vargo Hoat from across the yard. He was mounted atop the strangest horse Robb had ever seen, black and white striped.

His strange foreign men were easy to tell apart from the Lannister soldiers in their red armor. Robb felt fear and anger rise in his body as the mercenary seemed to be staring directly at him.

He gritted his teeth as he saw Vargo raise his sword above his head and shout words he couldn't understand. Responding cries arose from his men and in a wave of movement, they turned their attacks against the Lannisters.

Robb felt a rush of adrenaline surge through him at the turn of events and raised his voice in a battle cry. His honor guard responded in kind, their attacks intensifying.

Suddenly dread returned as Robb looked around the bloody and smoking yard and noticed one great and menacing form that appeared to be missing.

"Lord Manderly!" He shouted to Wendel Manderly at his side. "Take your men and go to Queen Daenerys! The Mountain is out there!"


Dany sat crouched before her husband who was himself sitting up against a tall tree. He stared out eerily into the dark, only the whites of his eyes showing. She knew she'd never get used to the sight.

It was hard to believe Jon could control Rhaegal. Surely it couldn't last as he grew bigger and more willful. She didn't like the creeping jealousy she felt about it. Jon was strong, a skilled fighter, and all she had were her dragons. If he could control them better than her, what was her role to be?

I will not be my mother.

With him incapacitated, she took the opportunity to inspect the state he was in. His clothes looked thin and ratty and she removed her own cloak to cover him as best she could. He'd never let her do such a thing while conscious and she felt some satisfaction in circumventing his chivalry.

She peered closely at his face to see dark circles under eyes and that his cheeks had thinned. His beard had grown scraggly and his hair over grown and disheveled.

Tenderly, she swept a hand along his cheek and promised herself she would take care of him once the battle was won.

"A strange thing to see, " Rickard Karstark interjected. "Who ever heard of skin changing into a dragon?"

"He's quite a man, my husband, " she told him amusedly, rising to her feet. "You'll be seeing your son soon, My Lord."

"Aye. Harrion, my eldest."

"I will be happy to see him returned to you."

The sound of a horn had her heart jumping into her throat, panic gripping her as she saw the Mormont sisters riding toward them with several other mounted soldiers of Bear Island.

"The Mountain is here!" Dacey exclaimed. "Best we get you get on your horse, Your Grace. Just as a precaution."

The clang of steel and resounding cries let them know their host was under attack. She dropped to her knees instantly before Jon, gently shaking his shoulders, desperate to wake him.

"Jon, please."

His head only to lolled to one side, eyes still vacant.

Lord Karstark put a hand on her shoulder, voice calm as still water. "He told you you wouldn't be able to wake him. Let's get you on your horse, Your Grace."

Her hands were shaking as she climbed into the saddle of her waiting palfrey.

Lord Karstark, the Mormonts and their soldiers formed a line some twenty yards in front of she and Jon, Ghost alert and in a defensive stance in front of his human companion.

Dany could hear men begging for mercy and cries of agony within the distant forest before them. She squeezed the leather reins tightly in her hand as she waited with bated breath.

Her heart was hammering when she saw the Mountain's men break through their lines, only a handful but they were matched. She gasped as she saw a Mormont soldier fall from his horse and she found herself scrambling down from her horse.

Her stomach was so knotted she thought she would vomit as she attempted to move Jon's body, grunting as she was finally able to grip him under his arms to drag him underneath the nearby brush.

"Ghost!" She whispered urgently to the wolf who had followed. "Stay with him and do not follow me!"

She reached for that tentative connection with her biggest son, the one so faint she wondered at times if it was only her imagination.

Comeback, Dreamfyre. Please.

She could feel the unholy knight's presence before she saw him, a terrible force that shook her to her core. Darting back to her horse, she had barely settled into her seat when she saw him. He was a distance away still, half covered in shadow atop his warhorse, lance in hand. Her friends hadn't noticed him, still engaged in the melee, and she knew then they couldn't stop him.

He must be something more than human, she thought.

He wore his great helm which could offer little in the way of sight but still she knew he saw her. Her heart seemed to have stopped in her chest as a chill ran down her spine, her whole body going stiff.

"Be off now, Silver Queen! " she heard Lord Karstark shout as he knocked an assailant from his horse. "Ride hard and don't look back!"

Twisting her palfrey's mane in her hand for leverage, she practically stood in the stirrups before she kicked her horse into a run. If she could get around the monster, and lead him away from Jon, perhaps they could both survive.

She heard his horrible voice, a sound like breaking rocks, command his own horse into a run and she fought the urge to scream.

Lord Karststark cried out and she looked back only long enough to see him charging on Ser Gregor, sword raised high.

Only a little further ahead, she heard the lord's painful cry and then the pounding of heavy hooves as the Mountain that Rides began to give chase.

She drew near the edge of the forest and felt momentary relief as she broke through the treeline, the golden glow of the morning sun only just beginning to break on the horizon.

From far away she could see the tops of the tents, reaching camp a true possibility, when in an instance, she found her whole body lurching forward violently, hands searching blindly as she felt herself tumbling through the air. Her back took the brunt of her fall, breath knocked from her lungs as she lay looking up at the stars fading from the sky. She sat up stunned, struggling to breathe.

Ghost was nudging her urgently when her lungs finally relaxed enough to let air in, and she was grateful the beast had ignored her command. The relief of breath was short lived as she was scrambling to her feet, her slaughtered horse lying nearby with a massive lance sticking out of its bloody hind quarters.

The pounding hooves of his great mount were reverberating on the ground, and she made to run, even as he was so close to over taking her.

A screech in the sky had hope bursting in her chest and she looked back to see Dreamfyre descending on the Ser Gregor, flames wrenching strangled cries from his horse.

She felt the earth shake with the clatter of his plate mail as he hit the ground with a thunderous thud. As he rose to his feet again, talons could be heard scraping against his great helm. Her sweet son managed to unmask the fiend before the Mountain began blindly swinging his great sword at his wings.

Dany felt her heart drop as Dreamfyre screeched and flew back to avoid the blade. Unmasked but unscathed, his heavy metal footsteps drew nearer. His face, twisted and ruined, had her frozen with fear but she pulled out the dagger from her boot even as she stumbled backward.

Ghost was snarling in front of her, hackles raised and fangs bared.

A cry in the night from a beloved voice had her eyes instantly stinging. She could scarcely believe what she was seeing as Jon came flying towards them on a horse, sword raised in one hand.

Ser Gregor appeared undisturbed and she watched him casually unsheathe the sword at his side.

Dark Sister, she realized.

He cut down Jon's horse like it was nothing and she screamed as she saw him tumble to the ground. Rushing to his side, she felt stronger to be in his presence again and he rose to his feet quickly, stepping in front of her.

Behind her lover and his wolf, time seemed to stand still as his great shadow crept over them.

She screamed as he picked up Jon by the throat and tossed him aside like he was nothing but a small child.

It was then she realized he didn't want to kill Jon yet, but wanted him to see, wanted him to watch as he cut her apart with his own sword.

Tears were blurring her vision as she watched Jon struggle, groaning, and using all of his strength to pull himself back up, the pommel of her dagger slick with sweat.

She felt resigned as Ser Gregor stepped before her and he made a sound she could only assume was a laugh as she lifted her dagger, pointing it at him even as she trembled. Then a shadow behind the man's head brought a slow smile to her lips. Another and then another.

Soundlessly, Ghost slipped away.

The hand holding her dagger stopped trembling. "Drop your weapon, Ser. You are to answer for your crimes. For the murders of Rhaenys and Aegon Targaryen, and their mother, Elia."

It was then the Mountain looked over his shoulder to see the winged forms of her sons surrounding him, and in a swift motion, he knocked the dagger from her hand and pointed the tip of Dark Sister to her chest.

"Call them off, dragon whore."

She looked into the eyes of Ser Gregor Clegane for what she knew would be the last time before crying, "Dracarys!"

Three streams of flame from above joining into one, all focused on the hellish fiend in front of her. Before she managed to back away, the flames licked her boots and singed the hem of her dress. She watched his body convulse, before his knees hit the ground and he finally fell forward.

The heat from the flames was still on her cheeks after it had stopped and she didn't look away from the charred remains of his neck until she felt Jon's hands on her shoulders, finally pulling her into his arms.

When the smoke cleared, there was little left of Ser Gregor's head but smouldering ash, the smell sickening. Quickly, Jon lifted her to her feet, keeping her behind him as he moved forward cautiously and retrieved Dark Sister from the dead man's side.

They moved swiftly to a patch of green grass away from the carnage, and she dropped to her knees in exhaustion. He did the same, his hands running over her shaking shoulders, looking for signs of injury. When he pulled her into his tight embrace, she let herself go limp, a sob falling from her lips.

No words were exchanged between them. No words were needed. She closed her eyes, shutting out the rest of the world around her so all she knew was the safety of his arms.


Robb wiped sweat from his brow, his heart finally starting to resume its normal rhythm as the last of the Lannister men had dropped their weapons in defeat.

He was surrounded by his honor guard as he surveyed the massacre before him. Crows had already begun to descend, ready to feast on the slew of corpses, many which were his own men.

"The battle for Harrenhal is won, My King, " the Greatjon said.

"I didn't come here for this cursed castle but for the old lion hiding within, " Robb told him gruffly, staring at Vargo Hoat who stood across the yard surrounded by his own men.

Still wearing his menacing and demonic goat helm, the mercenary crossed the yard, undisturbed by the blood and mangled corpses strewn about.

"Vargo Hoat, " Robb greeted him cordially. "You have my gratitude for your assistance."

"Wolf King, " the sellsword greeted stiffly. "Take me to the Dragon Queen. I have a gift for her."