Jon Stark had been riding for over a day when he was finally forced to stop and rest. He had reached the base of the Northern mountains, and the terrain and weather had become more treacherous every foot higher that he traveled. The sky was dark, the wind howled and icy snow blew against his face so hard that it felt like pins pricking against his skin. He managed to find a small alcove between several large boulders that provided some protection from the storm. Though it had not been easy, he located enough dry tinder to light a meager fire and warm his limbs. His bed of furs were a modest comfort, but Ghost had curled around him, providing additional warmth.

When he woke in the morning, the snow had stopped, but it was still bitterly cold. The ice had caked onto his beard, leaving his jaw stiff. His dire wolf companion had also disappeared in the night, searching for his own breakfast. Jon's morning meal consisted of a ration of dried meat and several swallows of water…hardly satisfying, but enough to keep his strength. Soon enough, he was again navigating his horse through the narrow mountain passes.

After another half day of riding, he finally crested over a valley between two mountain peaks, his eyes taking in the Bay of Ice far in the distance. Closer, though, he finally saw what he had been looking for. A short ride away was a large village, at the center of which stood a large holdfast, built of a solid combinations of stone and timber. Hanging on the castle's walls were banners bearing three wooden buckets on a field of blue. This was the home of the Wulls, the largest of the Northern mountain clans.

The village was active, men and women seeing to their tasks and trades. As Jon rode into the village, he instantly drew the attention of most. He'd only made it halfway through before several armed men on horse impeded his path. One of the men, bearing a bald head and giant black beard spoke for them.

"What business do you have here, stranger?"

Jon held up his hands, hoping to show he meant no harm. "Greetings. My name is Jon Stark. I come on behalf of my brother, Robb Stark, King in the North and of the Trident, and Lord of Winterfell. I seek an audience with Lord Wull. I am in need of your Lord's assistance."

The Wull man's eyes widened slightly at the introduction before he turned to his companions, a silent conversation seemingly taking place, before the man turned. "The Wull is in the castle. We will escort you inside."

Jon followed the riders through the village, and then through the gates of the castle, which were flanked by several modest towers. Once inside the gates, Jon slid off his mount, allowing a stableboy to take it away to be fed and watered. Jon took in the various scenes as they walked towards the great hall. Though the clans were a hardened sort, they were also largely civilized. He watched as a blacksmith beat his hammer fiercely against an anvil, shaping metal to his whim, and next to him, several others forming leather into armor. On the other side of the castle, a group of soldiers were sparring viciously. Jon shifted his attention back to the task at hand, following his guides into the great hall, where a whale of a man sat at a table, nursing a cup of something held in his hand. The man, clearly Lord Hugo Wull, turned his attention to the newcomers.

"What is this about?" the man asked.

Jon stepped forward, bowing his head in respect. "I apologize for intruding on your privacy, Lord Wull. My name is Jon Stark, and I come to seek your help on behalf of my brother, Robb Stark. I don't mean to offend if I speak of old news, as I am unsure how quickly it travels to you, but our father, Ned Stark was slain in battle against the Lannisters. Robb has been crowned King in the North."

Lord Wull stood from the table, shifting his large belly as he did so. He walked to Jon and placed a mammoth hand on Jon's shoulder. "Aye, the news of the Ned's death reached us. We mourned his loss deeply. He was a great man and friend to House Wull. House Full pledges its loyalty to the Ned's sons just the same."

"Your loyalty has never been in doubt, Lord Wull. Which is why I have come to you now."

"How can House Wull be of service to House Stark?"

"The King has sent me north with a force of three thousand to reinforce the Wall. However, on the way, we encountered devastation wrought by Lord Bolton's bastard on a village on Long Lake. I fear the Boltons have ambitions that would see them rise up against my family."

"And you seek my fighting men?" Lord Wull questioned.

"Aye, my Lord. I mean to confront the Boltons over Ramsey's crimes, but I fear my concerns over their treachery to be true. They can muster more men than I have brought north with me," Jon stated.

"If it is men you seek, then it is men you will have, Jon Stark. We will bleed the Boltons dry for even thinking to betray the sons of the Ned."

"How many men can you spare?"

"I'll need to leave some to protect against those fucking Ironborn raiders, but I can give you six hundred men. Give me another day, and I can guarantee you at least another six hundred from the Flint and the Norrey. Those two won't turn down the chance to fight for the Ned's sons."

Jon was more than pleased. Twelve Hundred men was more than he could have expected, and the clansmen were fierce fighters. As far as he was concerned, one northern clansman was as good as two Bolton men. "Thank you, Lord Wull. You have the gratitude of House Stark, and the promise that we will always come to your aide, should the need arise."

"Of that I do not doubt," Lord Wull grinned. "It is not often that we get to host a Stark, so tonight we shall feast to the Ned's memory, and drink to the King in the North." Lord Wull placed his arm around Jon's shoulder. "Now come, we will find you a soft bed to rest from your journey."

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Robb Stark would not suffer traitors. Especially ones who plotted attempts on his life. Robb was intent on teaching the Freys that lesson. With the Westerlands tamed, and Casterly Rock secured, Robb had finally marched back east into the Riverlands and to Riverrun. Upon his arrival, he had learned that Theon had made good on his promise, and secured the Iron Islands for the North. The Ironborn had unsurprisingly put up a spirited fight, but the breadth of the Redwyne Fleet and the number superiority had been too much for the defenders to stave off. Balon Greyjoy was dead, killed when his escaping ship was sunk. Theon's sister was a captive, but Balon Greyjoy's brothers had managed to flee, their whereabouts unknown. Half of the Redwyne Fleet was now anchored around the Iron Islands, while the other half was anchored around Seagard, waiting for his word to move against the Twins.

The Twins. They were the source of his current aching head. If it were just a matter of their numbers versus his, the engagement would be over in a blink. However, the Twins presented unique challenges, namely having to besiege two castles on different sides of the Green Fork which were connected by a large span of bridge. He'd been ruminating over plans for over a week with his lords, but every option seemed to end with him sending thousands of men to their inevitable deaths. That was something he could not do, no matter how much he wanted to be in Winterfell with his wife.

Robb stood from his desk, pouring himself another cup of wine to dull his frustrations. His wounds from the assassination attempt had finally healed completely, and he was in the mood for a fight. Looking out the window, he could still see that night had not yet completely washed over the sky. Figuring that Gendry would still be awake, he left his solar intent on sparring with his friend. Traversing the halls of Riverrun, his guard for the evening, Lucas Blackwood at his back, Robb made his way to Gendry's quarters. The door was shut, but Robb, his impatience getting the best of him, neglected to think about knocking and announcing his presence.

Pushing the door open, he was confronted with a modest room…and the sounds of labored grunts and panting. Robb's advance inside stopped when he saw a bare female backside rising and falling frantically atop another, equally naked, form. Caught by surprise, Robb could only stare as the woman arched up, head falling backwards, exposing bared breasts. As the woman leaned back, her eyes caught the King in the North standing in the doorway. Dacey Mormont stopped the pounding of her hips, eyes wide. Almost immediately, she leapt up from her bed partner, who unsurprisingly turned out to be Gendry. The former blacksmith stared with wide eyes, before his hands reached down to cover his cock, which had been left exposed. Dacey meanwhile, still completely nude, had dropped to a knee in front of him, head bowed.

"Apologies, your grace," she stated.

"No, the apologies are mine," Robb coughed, trying to keep his eyes away from the woman's strong features. He had been too long without the touch of his Queen. Looking back up, he saw a disheveled Gendry had managed to roll himself into a sheet, arms and all. Robb had to hold back a laugh.

"Was there something you needed, your Grace?" Gendry questioned, still slightly frantic.

"Nothing, that cannot wait," Robb answered, already walking backwards to the door. While he had restrained his own laughter, he could hear Lucas Blackwood snickering unreservedly outside. "Feel free to resume your previous activities. Don't break him, Dacey. I need him in fighting shape."

"Of course, your Grace," Dacey responded, mirth now in her voice as well. "I'll leave him in one piece."

Shaking his head, Robb closed the door behind him. Lucas had only just managed to compose himself. "What do you say, Blackwood? Up for a fight? My first choice seems to be otherwise engaged. I have to say, I did warn the poor boy."

"I may not be able to get the sight out of my head, but I'll do my best to offer a challenge, your Grace," Lucas grinned.

Robb was about to respond, but the sound of hurried steps heading their way stopped him. He reached for the hilt of his sword, Lucas doing the same as he stood in front of his King. However, their stances eased when they saw Edmure Tully running towards them.

"What is it, Uncle?" Robb inquired as the man stopped in front of him.

Breathing heavily, Edmure gathered himself. "Our guards intercepted a rider from the north. She says she needs to speak with the king."

"She…" Robb frowned. "Who is it?"

"Roslin Frey, Robb. One of Walder Frey's daughters."

"Where is she now?"

"I did not want to attract attention to her arrival, so she's currently in some empty servant's quarters, under guard."

"Well, best go figure out why the girl would willingly walk into the hands of her family's enemies."

Robb followed Edmure through the castle, down to a quiet corridor by the kitchens. Two Tully men stood sentry outside a door. Edmure swept passed them, opening the door for Robb. Robb was unsure what to expect when he walked in, but it was not the slight woman who sat at a table, picking at some bread that had been provided to her. His anger at the Freys may have negatively colored his expectations of what the girl would be, but she was no horned monster, just a young, innocent-looking thing, with soft features. Her brown eyes met Robb's as he stepped inside, and he thought he could see something akin to shame there…for what reason he was not sure.

Robb pulled up a stool and sat before her. "You are Roslin Frey?"

"I am, your Grace," the girl almost whispered.

"I'm sure you can understand my confusion as to why the daughter of the man who betrayed me and tried to have me killed would choose to walk herself into my custody."

Roslin nodded. "I do, your Grace. When news reached the Twins that you had returned east, I knew that I had to take this chance. My Father is not a good man. He would offer each of us up for slaughter if he thought he stood to gain from it. And he has, your Grace. My brother…my poor brother was slain by his own family for my Father's greed."

"Your brother?" Robb questioned.

"Olyvar, your Grace. He was murdered at Casterly Rock."

Robb nodded, remembering Olyvar speaking of a sister. "Your brother served me bravely, Lady Roslin. He stood against his kin to uphold his vows and his honor. However, I'm still not sure what it is that has compelled you to be here tonight."

"In truth, your Grace, I come here at the behest of my eldest brother, Perwyn. We understand that what our Father has done is unforgivable, and that there will be harsh consequences for it, even the destruction of our House. We would like to offer our assistance, to possibly forestall some of the bloodshed…with certain conditions."

"I'll say it is rather bold to sit before a king and seek conditions beyond that of your guaranteed safety, but I will admit that I am curious."

"My brother is a good man, but he is not above his own ambitions, your Grace. That being said, he is willing to help you gain entry to the castle, in exchange for being named the new Lord of the Twins. He would swear his fealty to you, your Grace."

"And what guarantee do I have that once your brother is installed as Lord, he would not pull the same treacherous games as your Father?"

At the question, Roslin breathed deeply, clearly flushed. "As a show of good faith, and to secure the lasting ties of our families, Lord Edmure and I would be married. Perwyn's firstborn son would also be sent to be fostered at Winterfell."

Robb heard a loud throat clearing from Edmure behind him, but ignored his Uncle's reaction for the moment. Edmure would do what his King ordered, not that being married to Roslin would be a chore. "Say that I may be entertaining this proposal, how exactly would your brother get us into the Twins?"

"On some days, my brother is in charge of the castle defenses, including the gates. He would sabotage the gate to allow your men passage inside."

"And how could we trust that there would not be an ambush waiting for us on the other side?"

"I shall remain here as your hostage, your Grace. If you are in agreement with our terms, my brother shall be on watch duty in two days time. Send a man to light two torches along the bank of the Green Fork. My brother will be on the lookout for it."

"Then what?"

"The following day, provisions are scheduled to be brought in from the nearby villages. The gates will be open for a time. That is when my brother will sabotage the gate, so that it cannot be closed, nor the drawbridge raised. Your men will be able to enter the castle freely."

Robb stood and paced the room, digesting this plan. It was bold, but it was also the best option that had presented itself. It would not secure both castles, but it was possible that taking one would destroy the Freys' resolve. The timeline was tight, so a decision needed to be made. Robb decided it was time to be bold.

"Uncle, send a raven to Seagard. Tell them the fleet is to sail into the Cape of Eagles, and deploy our men on the coast, keeping cover behind the forests west of the Twins. In three days time, they shall march on the Twins. I will lead our forces north from Riverrun, and we shall converge on the castle gates."

"Does this mean I am to be married?" Edmure asked, glancing at the Frey girl.

"If Lady Roslin and Lord Perwyn are true to their word, then we shall have peace on their terms. So yes, Uncle. You are to be married. However, now is not the time to worry on such matters. We'll need to ready the men. If we're to make it to the Twins in time, then we march tonight." Edmure spared a glance at his future bride before leaving to do his King's bidding.

Robb remained, looking down at the Frey girl. "I'm about to send thousands of my men into danger on your word. If this is a trick and more deceit from your family, then yours shall be the first head that I take, my lady. If you wish to take back your words, now is your last chance."

Roslin shook here head, eyes determined. "I swear to the gods that my words are only the truth, your Grace."

"We shall see, my lady. We shall see."