Man, last night was hectic, to say the least. Actually, the whole week. Supernatural, Endgame, Gotham, then Game of Thrones. Frankly, I am tuckered out.
Chapter 24: Harbinger of Wolves
Barrowton
"This is a shit idea."
"It is?"
"Aye, my King. Barbrey is a prickly old woman, more than that cunt Walder."
"But unlike Walder, she is being reasonable. Now quiet."
Greatjon bristled and looked with unease at Barrowton, Lady Dustin had not a man to position outside her walls but there did seem to be a number of soldiers and guards, possibly 200 at the least, enough to beat back Ironborn who littered about the gate.
Arya, Edric, and his mother stayed behind. He noticed his sister is untrusting of her but she'll have to deal with, she is also angry with him for keeping secrets. Secrets? He keeps them because if word gets out to the wrong person, others will seek to take advantage and bring further pain to them all.
"Open the gate!"
The guards opened the gate and they rode inside, the nearby guards and people going about their business had stopped to stare at them or more specifically, the iron crown on his head, Robb's crown.
"Lady Dustin awaits you, your grace." A rider said to him and he nodded, the man escorted them along.
Arthur was surprised that the woman wanted to meet him, to talk about surrendering to him.
He knows one thing, he isn't taking terms, he expects oaths of fealty or the block with Ice over their head. So, the question remains, why invite him to talk?
He remembered Luwin once said that there is supposed to be a small branch of Starks living here, most likely the bloodline here diluted to nearly nothing now. Perhaps, when his wars are all finished, he will come back here and look for his lost kin and bring them home.
Bloodlines. The word had him confused about his own kin, or more specifically, Jon.
He wonders what his father was thinking, of course, Robert would have killed Jon to secure his crown through blood and a baby's cries.
Everything Howland said was true, the rebellion his father fought wasn't to bring the tyrant Rhaegar and House Targaryen to justice, the Crown Prince ran away with his aunt Lyanna. They married in secret and Robert rebelled not knowing the truth, his uncle and grandfather were murdered needlessly.
He doesn't blame Jon, Jaehaerys. One cannot control who they love, he learned that from Jaime the morning after he and Mya made love to one another.
Now, he has a decision to make. Jon will find out for himself or he can bring the news to him, then what will Jon do with it? He is a man of the Night's Watch, whether he knows now won't truly matter for he swore away any claims to land or titles.
Jon had wanted to know his mother since he was old enough to hear and speak and listen, he and I were brought up as brothers. We played together, laughed together... But we aren't, his mother isn't my mother, Jon- Jaehaerys mother caused a rebellion because she never told the truth. He thought as his party reached Barrow Hall, Harwood Stout was waiting for him alongside the Lady Dustin.
House Stout was one of the House's that betrayed Robb, they followed their lieges command but failed.
"We welcome you to Barrow Hall, Arthur Snow." She addressed him by his bastardy. Greatjon grumbled and spoke for him.
"Come off it, Barbrey, you know Robb made him a Stark before you and your compatriots killed him." Harwood gripped his sword at Greatjon's response. Barbrey scoffed and folded her hands together.
"And Robb should have lost, Arthur is a miracle worker, just like Ned was when he was a young Warden, leading the North to battle at the Trident." She reminisced, looking back and forth from him to Greatjon. "What I did, siding with Roose, I was trying to stop our people from dying at the hands of Southerners. I am responsible for Barrowton and my husband's lands, Arthur, just like you have done at the Twins and Moat Cailin." He doesn't believe her, he'll never believe her but they are here for fealty.
"You know why I am here, I intend to reclaim the North... I need House Dustin, House Stout, House Whitehill, and House Ryswell's fealty." He pushed to the topic at hand, Barbrey smirked bitterly at him before taking a deep breath.
"I, Barbrey of House Dustin of Barrowton do swear to uphold my oath to House Stark of Winterfell." Harwood also swore for his House as well, once this was done, Barbrey rose back to her feet. "Are we done?" He wanted to holler and roar, this woman is getting on his nerves already. "House Whitehill is vassals of House Bolton, and my father fought at the Twins, along with two of my brothers, Roose Ryswell is Lord of the Rills." He had to be named Roose, a sigh escaped his mouth and it must have amused Lady Dustin who laughed but she was sad.
Rodrick, Rickard, and Roger. They fell with 800 men at the Twins.
"How many fighting men do you have?" He asked and Harwood answered for his Lady.
"430 men, 200 guardsmen for the town, why?" He was asked and he sighed once more.
"I need them scouring the Stoney Shore, let the neighboring territories know if you see any krakens on the sea. I want Lord Ryswell's fealty so send him to me." He gave them a task and Lady Dustin nodded, Harwood left to get it done. "We don't have time to cement this newfound fealty, I move to Torrhen's Square, do you happen to know how many men hold it?" Barbrey Dustin had to think because she took some time to answer his question.
"200 men last I heard, a Dagmer Cleftjaw leads them after I closed the river they sailed in on." That means a quick siege will bring them to heel, he nodded and turned from her to leave, he was almost going to mount his horse before she started to speak again. "You might be your father's son, but I see much of the Wild Wolf in your eyes, my King." He slowly turned his head towards her.
"No... I am my own man, I'm neither the Wild or Quiet Wolf, I am the Dread Wolf." He left after saying that to her and rode back out the gate, Greatjon laughing before following them.
They resumed their march past the Barrows, he saw Harwood ride out of Barrowton's gate with 300 other riders and 100 foot soldiers.
"She's a wicked cunt but a smart one, she knew she'd win no battles," Greatjon told him and he laughed a little.
"And you were the one who was scared to come with, come on." He rode up to where the middle half of the column, his mother and sister were waiting for him.
"I wish Mya was here with us." He heard Arya say and he smiled, stroking the smaller Stark's cheek.
"I wish it were so, we need to keep going, yes? That's what you told me." He recited what his sister said to him when he was grieving, she smiled and nodded in agreement.
The Crossing
Blue eyes opened for the first time in weeks, she was sore, tired, and hungry.
"You're awake, at last." She turned her head, blurred eyes saw a pair of men watching her, one of them had only one eye and she immediately recognized him, both of the men.
"Beric? Thoros?" Her voice was hoarse and she had no idea where she was, then she remembered.
The wedding of Arya Stark. The massacre that occurred. Her husband, Robb, and Gendry? Her brother was gone. Fresh tears began to fall from her eyes, hands clasping her stomach as she thought of her baby boy, her son.
Beric comforted her as she sobbed, crying aloud and in her grief which seemed so fresh in her mind.
"The Lord of Light will avenge your child, I swear, Mya, I swear it on your father's memory." Beric's words were resonating with how she felt.
Fury. She felt nothing but grief and fury right now.
After an hour, the Twin's Maester changed her bandage but said she healed very well. She scowled and asked for some clothes and was given a dress, she threw it in the fire and shook her head.
"Men's clothes, trousers, and a shirt, a vest." Was all she'd tell the man who scurried off to find what she wanted.
Beric and Thoros came back after she had dressed and clasped her sword to her hip, they looked confused as to what she was planning to do and frankly, she didn't quite know what to do either.
"You aren't going North?" North, was that where Arthur is? And her brother.
"What happened? All I remember is the massacre, the blood." She fought back the tears and memories, she wants the crying to stop.
"They are calling it the Red Wedding. Robb died, his mother, your brother and many perished in the camps along with many Lords and their sons. Arthur, he would have died as well if not for Edric Dayne." House Dayne? "The conspirators, Roose and Walder, they were killed by Arthur. The Northmen overcame the traitors and stopped their own annihilation. He was made King in the North and is marching to reclaim the North." He would, wouldn't he? She wished she could be there, but, other ideas are turning her elsewhere.
"... Good luck to him." She turned around, began packing herself some food, water, and some fresh clothing. Looking into a mirror, she saw that her black hair grew back to its former length, she'll leave it like that for a while.
Thoros gave her a queer glance, "You aren't going North?" She shook her head and they must have gotten the hint, "You can't assassinate the Lannister's all by yourself, girl." She scoffed and remembered how skilled she was.
"I can try." She said in anger and Beric put a hand on her shoulder.
"I can see much of your father in you, Mya, I cannot let you go and die for a lost cause." She whipped around, glaring at her father's bannermen with storming eyes.
"My son was taken from me, a family I found was slaughtered before my eyes, I cannot face Arthur... Not until I am avenged." She ranted with hot tears of fury falling on her cheeks, Beric looked at her with sympathy before standing back.
"You should have died, long ago in that wedding. The Lord of Light kept you alive, the same is said for another that we found. He was injured and should have died." Who would that be? She didn't need to guess before a giant walked through the door, she recognized him right away.
"You've got to be shitting me, you have a destiny?" She said incredulously at Sandor who gave her a sour look back.
"Hello to you too, Bastard Doe."
4 Weeks Later, King's Landing
Oberyn enjoyed the warmth of many.
Man. Woman. He had no preference as he made love, in war, he fought and killed for Dorne, he doesn't choose sides when it came to love.
Now he is here, in the place that took his sister, his nephew, his niece. There is no vengeance to gain here, Gregor and Amory are dead, the last man to kill is the one that'll be the most difficult to pull off.
"My Prince, you have a visitor in the hall." This brothel's keeper said to him. He sighed and pushed Olyvar off of him, Ellaria tried to bring him back to bed.
He began making his way to the hall before he heard a familiar tune. The Rains of Castamere. He growled internally before following the music to a large room.
Two Lannister men in their red clothes were with a pair of women, they stopped singing and noticed his presence. "You lost, friend." One of them said and he was already irritated.
"Forgive me for staring, I don't see many Lannister's where I'm from." The same soldier told him that he doesn't see many like him in the capital, he smiled and shrugged, "We don't like the smell." The men took offense to what he said, standing up from their seats and gently pushing their women aside, he thought it humorous.
When has a Lannister or their soldiers ever been gentle?
"Oberyn, what's the matter?" Ellaria called, she was surprised to see the scene. Olyvar and the brothel keep had followed, Olyvar being asked to go get someone.
The soldiers gawked, "Look at this one, hey, why are you wasting her on someone like this? Just give him a goat and bottle of olive oil." The other soldier told the brothel keep who remained silent as he came closer to getting beyond angry.
"I think, you boys should go elsewhere or have a permanent scar at your knickers." He smirked and turned around, the room across from this one opened and his 'friend'. Gerold Dayne brushed back his silver strand, walking into the room and it seemed very crowded.
"Another Dornishmen? This establishment has gone to shit." The right Lannister said and went for his blade, he quickly reached for his dagger and jammed it into the drunkard's hand.
"Gah!" The other Lannister also went for his sword, he only squeezed a little to make him stop.
"A longsword is terrible in close quarters." He advised the one man then turned to the other one, "Once I pull the blade out, your friend will start to bleed quite a bit I'm afraid. You could possibly save his hand if you get help right away, so?... Decisions?" He muttered to the pink little lions.
"Prince Oberyn, forgive the intrusion- " A small man and what looks to be like a cutthroat walked in the room, he pulled the dagger out and the two Lannisters left the room to get help.
He hoped to have a bit of pleasure before dealing with all of the lions and their shit, apparently, there is no such thing after you get passed the Dornish Marches. A sigh escaped him as mentally prepared to address the little man he now recognizes as Tyrion Lannister.
Giving a nod to Gerold, the Darkstar occupied one of the seats while making Olyvar and the brothel keep leave the room.
"It appears we've stumbled upon the Lannister hovel." Tyrion told him they take all kinds, "Ellaria Sand, my paramour. This is Gerold Dayne, cousin to Lord Dayne of High Hermitage and a distant relative to the King in the North." He told his hosts son who now seems more nervous than he was when he saw him.
Chaos is what the Lannisters use, he just thought it fitting to bring a bit more chaos with him.
Gerold Dayne is an untrustworthy man, he wouldn't have faith for the man on the battlefield, but, letting the madness spread to Tywin and his brood.
"May we speak in private, Prince Oberyn?" Tyrion asked while sending nervous glances at both him and Gerold who smirked as if waiting for a signal, there isn't one.
He and Tyrion talked extensively about King's Landing, then to the wedding between Rhaegar and his sister. After that, his face darkened as he mentioned the Sack and Rhaegar abandoning his family for a Northern Flower.
"Gregor Clegane is dead, now, why have you come and not Doran's son, that is if the Prince of Dorne is too ill to come." He glared at the dwarf for quite some time, Tyrion does sound like his father, all books and no play.
"I came, to remind Tywin that Lannisters aren't the only ones who pay their debts."
The North
The Greyjoy flag fell from the town walls of Torrhen's Square. The commander of the Ironborn was wounded and on his knees, looking at the man who has him by the sword.
"If you have a final word, speak it now." Dagmer spit at Arthur's feet, he sighed before continuing onward, "By the Old Gods, I, Arthur of the House Stark, Lord of Winterfell and King in the North do sentence you to die." With a mighty swing, cut off Cleftjaws head which rolled down and into the lake.
The Battle of Torrhen's Square wasn't as quick as the Siege of Moat Cailin, it was bloodier and Dagmer's men were experienced warriors.
They covered every entrance, forced the people to fight for them and turned a supposed quick siege into a month-long battle. The Ironborn are leaving larger contingents of soldiers in the larger settlements. Deepwood Motte will be the toughest challenge for them.
He sustained a wound in the arm, Rodrik Forrester lost an eye. And his sister killed more men than him, 13 where she got 14. It became a competition when they both killed twelve.
"Torrhen's Square is ours, Arthur. Winterfell, then." He nodded and stepped into the great hall where the imprisoned family of House Tallhart was eating.
Eddara smiled got up from her seat with her two cousins and mother, she nodded and bowed as formal as she could.
"Thank you for saving us, my King. I dreamt that one day, King Robb would come and save us, I am glad you filled his place." She stuttered and he felt like he was disrupting her.
"It was a pleasure, thank you for remaining so strong, my Lady." He said and she hurried to continue eating, her mother, Lady Tallana approached and knelt her head.
"What men we can spare, please take them, thank you for saving us, the brute was waiting for Eddara to flower so he could... " He stopped her there, knowing what she meant. "I presume you will be going to Deepwood Motte?" He shook his head and she soon realized what he meant, "So, you are going home, then. Good fortune, my King." He nodded and an hour and a half later, the army, now refreshed with supplies set out for Winterfell.
"I can't wait to be home, wonder if Theon really burned it down." He better not have, or he'll be taking Theon's balls along with his life.
But home, they are finally going home.
AN: I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and let me explain. I know I said that Gerold Dayne won't appear in this rendition but I kinda see a lot he could fill in for, as a personal battle between him and Arthur/Edric/Ashara.
Ceyhun Topuz, Thank you, glad you like it.
CEW, I do have some plans for Beshka and Asher and their men, they'll be integral for retaking Deepwood Motte and subduing House Whitehill.