Robb couldn't remember being so happy in his life. He knew joy from playing with his siblings, feeling love from his parents, the thrill of victory, and even the love of a wonderful woman. But all of it paled in comparison to what he had heard last night from his beloved wife Talisa.

He, Robb Stark, the king in the north, was going to be a father.

Last night he and his wife had just finished a session of love making and Talisa had moved to begin writing a letter to her mother in Volantis. While discussing the possibility of going to his wife's home city after the war with the Lannisters was finished, Robb was told Talisa was expecting a child. The news made him feel happiness he hadn't known in quite some time. It had also led to more love making, despite that he was still slightly exhausted from their previous coupling.

Robb was in a euphoric daze as he strolled his camp. It was early morning and aside from him, only his camp guards were up right now. He stared at the rising sun, a large smile on his face.

"Feeling well, I take it, your grace?"

Robb turned to see his squire Olyver Frey.

"I am indeed, Olyver. I learned last night that I am to be a father."

His squire's eyes went wide before he responded. "Congratulations your grace!"

"Thank you Olyver."

There was a slight irony in it though: Robb was originally going to marry Olyver's cousin Roslin. It was part of an agreement he made with the head of House Frey to pass the Frey's capital at the Twins. However, Robb had become so enamored with his healer Talisa that he slept with her. Once that was done, Robb needed little incentive to marry her instead. However, soon House Frey would get their own match because his army was traveling to the Twins now to marry Robb's uncle Edmure to Roslin.

After some idle chat, Olyver turned to head back to his tent. However he stopped and instead glanced at the sky.

"You're grace,… do you see that?"

Robb looked to where Olyver was pointing. A small, dark shape was moving across the sky some ways away, and getting bigger.

"It looks like a bird."

"From this distance your grace? It would have to be enormous."

Robb had to agree now that his squire had said it. What bird in the world could be seen from such a great distance. It would have to at least be the size of a …

"Olyver! Do you have a spyglass?"

Olyver, slightly startled with his king's sudden anxiousness, quickly reached into a bag he was carrying and pulled out what Robb had asked for. Robb took it, extended it as far as he could, and once more turned to the strange shape. A moment later, he lowered the instrument and his face went pale as one sick with the stomach flu.

"That's not a bird..."

Olyver was about to ask what it was when he heard a sound. It was faint, coming from something far off, but there was no mistaking it: a roar. A MASSIVE roar.

"Your grace..."

"It's a dragon."

Minutes later, Robb was crouching in a set of bushes. Somehow, he had managed to keep his officers calm enough that the dragon hadn't seemed to notice them as it flew over them. Though even Robb fought to keep his panic in check when the dragon landed close by. Against the wishes of his men, as well as his mother, Robb decided to get a closer look.

One might assume it was shameful for a king to hide in a bush like a common thief, but when a dragon was in the picture one could understand.

Robb was in awe. The dragon was enormous: bigger than any creature he had seen. But what was it doing here?!

The dragon turned its head towards its back, and it took a minute for Robb to realize that it was looking at someone... no, multiple someones... descending from its back.

His heart almost stopped in his chest. There was only one group of people alive today that could control a dragon: the Targaryens! What were any surviving Targaryens doing here?! Had they come from Essos to reestablish their control of Westeros? Was there an army landing on the shores of the continent somewhere? If so, why were they risking their lives by traveling without their army?

Every instinct told him to run. Instead, he decided to try to creep closer.

The figures were now off the dragon's back. Robb had somehow managed to get close enough to the dragon without drawing its attention. He could now see what looked like two children and a young man, around his age, standing next to the creature. The man squatted, and Robb realized that one of the kids had been riding on the man's back. How he missed that he...

His thoughts were interrupted as he heard the child on the back of the young man speak.

"Do you want me to let go?"

The voice was... bland. There was no emotion in it. It was like the child speaking had no human feelings.

"No Bran, I want to carry you like this into Robb's camp."

Robb thought he would go into shock. He knew that voice, dripping heavy with sarcasm.

"OF COURSE I want you to let go!"

"You know Bran, you are not fun anymore. Now you're even more boring than most adults."

Robb could no longer think clearly. He recognized that voice as well. Acting completely on instinct, he stood up and shouted.

"JON?! RICKON?!