When Robb came to consciousness once more, he was lying on his stomach on his bed. It was eerily quiet, but he had little time to ponder the silence as the wound on his back throbbed and stung painfully. He bit into the bedding to stop himself from crying out, until he was able to slowly acclimate to the intense level of pain. Slowly, he turned his head and saw a disheveled, battle-weary Theon, seated in a chair against the wall. Theon's hair was matted and his face was smeared with ash and blood. Large black bags evidencing a lack of sleep were obvious beneath his eyes.

"It's good see you awake," Theon remarked, clearly noticing Robb's resumed movement. "You looked a right bloody mess when I left you."

"The Freys-."

"Are traitors," Theon finished. "Figured that out rather quickly when I found you unconscious in the hall with Black Walder's smoking corpse in your hearth."

"How did you find me?"

"That would be thanks to him." Theon pointed towards the door, and Robb could see Grey Wind, sat back on his haunches, staring unblinkingly at the door to his bedchamber as if expecting a threat to burst through at any moment. "I'm not really sure was happened, but he must have sensed you were in trouble, and went absolutely unhinged. He was howling so loud it echoed through the entire keep…didn't stop until I found you. My ears are still ringing from the sound."

"What happened after?," Robb asked. "I heard fighting outside right before I went out."

"The Frey soldiers launched an attack against our camp. But they put too much faith in Black Walder succeeding with his assassination attempt. They left the rear of their force exposed. Black Walder had left a small force at the entrance to the Keep, who they were expecting to join them after they killed you."

"And I made sure that didn't happen."

"No. After I was sure you secured, I rallied what men I could from inside the keep and we took them by surprise. Then we marched down and smashed the rest of the Freys from behind."

"How bad were our losses?"

"At least two hundred dead, more wounded," Theon stated. "They took us unaware…it could have been much worse."

"What of the Freys?"

Theon frowned, his eyes dark. "Let's just say, the men didn't take well to betrayal. Once we surprised them from behind, we tore through them them like warmed butter. There may be close to a hundred left, if that. We have them rounded up in livestock pens."

Robb winced as he painfully rolled his legs over the edge of the bed, managing to shift until he was sitting up. "Have the men build execution blocks. We're going to send every single Frey head back to Lord Walder. Then I'm going to tear down his castle, stone by stone, then rebuild it again with his corpse as the mortar." Robb's anger slightly waned when he saw the conflicted look on Theon's face. "What else? You're holding something back."

Theon hesitated for a moment, reluctance clear on his face. "The attack by the Freys wasn't isolated. While they were busy betraying us, our ships were attacked by a force from the sea."

Robb frowned, perplexed, but then the obvious answer came to him. The inner turmoil evident from Theon's countenance quickly confirmed it. The Ironborn had attacked them. "How much damage?" Robb questioned

"Several ships were sunk. Another dozen took on minor damage, but are still floating. The ships guarding the Bay held strong, and were reinforced once the Freys were subdued."

"On any other day I would write off the attack as the Ironborn doing what is in their nature, but the Freys attacking at the same moment is no coincidence. The Lannisters are desperate and buying allies wherever they can," Robb concluded.

"It can't be coincidence," Theon agreed.

"I don't like being so isolated away from our own allies," Robb admitted, his frustration with their current predicament surfacing. "Taking the Rock was worth the effort, but we've lingered here long enough. We have threats on multiple fronts, and I cannot keep my sights on all of them from here. And I would not risk being stuck here if winter unleashes its fury on us. The question is, what to do about the Iron Islands?"

"What would you have done, your Grace?" Theon questioned, and Robb could practically feel the unease rolling off of his friend.

"Tell me, Theon…if you were in my place, what would be your decision?"

Theon hesitated a moment, steeling his composure. "Such an action could not stand without a strong response. The Iron Islands remain a threat, and they need to be brought to heel, your grace."

"Aye, they do," Robb replied. "We have enough to keep our attention without worrying whether the Ironborn are going to raid our shores at inopportune times, or interfere with movement of our forces. It needs to stop…for good. We had a conversation on the way to Casterly Rock. You remember what we spoke of?"

"I do."

"One way or the other, I'm going to see that the threat from Pyke is neutralized. If your kin force me to do so, then I will see to it that they meet their Drowned God. You are my friend, Theon, and I am not so cruel that I would make you complicit in the fall of your family. If you asked it of me, I would release you from any vow you have given to me as your King, and we would part here today, no ill feelings from me. Obviously, such courtesy would end were you to draw sword against my forces in the future."

"And if I were not to forsake my vows to you, what would you ask of me?"

"No Greyjoy will ever rule on Pyke again, unless that Greyjoy is you, as a loyal bannerman to the North. I told you that I will need a Master of Ships, and what better strategic place to house a northern fleet, than at the Iron Islands. You would oversee that endeavor, and your people would be kept employed and flourish so that there would be no need for raiding ever again."

"It will not be so easy to convince them of this new way of life," Theon sighed. "I don't know if they will listen to me. I have been gone a long time."

"You will not be going alone, Theon," Robb stated. "You'll take half of Lord Redwyne's fleet, and sail to Pyke. I'll leave Patrek Mallister with you to provide support and back up your authority…along with the necessary men to keep order. It will be up to you to make your people see the sense of it."

"And what will you do?" Theon asked.

"First, I'm going to break through the Golden Tooth and end this fucking stalemate once and for all. Then, I am going to march north to the Twins, while the other half of the Redwyne fleet assails the castle from the sea."

"What of Casterly Rock?"

"I'm going to leave Garlan Tyrell in charge of the castle, with a force big enough to fend off any attempt at a siege."

"It sounds like you have a plan," Theon nodded. "I guess all that's left is my answer."

"I will be needing it," Robb responded.

Theon stood, but as soon as he did so, he kneeled. "You are my king, and I will take back my home in your name, your grace."

Robb gave a small smile, gesturing for Theon to rise. "Enough of that, Lord Greyjoy. There are plans to make."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

He had struggled mightily just to dress without reopening his wounds, but somehow Robb had managed to make himself look presentable…kingly. Smalljon Umber, Lucas Blackwood, and Gendry were waiting for him outside his chambers, ready to escort him. Given the recent treachery within their own ranks, no one was taking any chances with their King's safety. They left the keep and made their way through Casterly Rock, eventually exiting the castle to a small clearing between the castle and where the majority of Robb's army was camped.

The soldiers had formed a circle, crowding around close to hundred chopping blocks that had hastily been erected. Kneeling before each block were the remnants of the Frey soldiers, and standing beside each of them, a Northern soldier with sharpened steel ready to carry out their sentences. As Robb entered the clearing, the chattering of his soldiers quieted, while the desperate pleas for mercy from the condemned became louder.

Robb stepped forward, surveying the scene before him. The reality of the situation hit him suddenly. He had killed many men in battle, but was about to extinguish the lives of a hundred men with a simple command. But these men had betrayed him…they had betrayed their brothers in arms, killing them with their backs turned in the most cowardly of fashion. He steeled his resolve. There were times when a king had to dispense justice. Though he would like to follow his Father's practice of being the man to swing the sword, his wounds and the amount of traitors were forcing him to make an exception this time.

"I, Robb, of House Stark, King in the North and of the Trident, Lord of Winterfell, find you guilty of treason, and I hereby sentence you to die." Robb stepped back next to his Kingsguard, watching as the executioners placed their charges down into position. It took only a matter of moments before each sword swung true, treasonous Frey heads littering the ground, blood soaking into the blocks. A deafening silence followed, and Robb stepped forward once more, needing to speak to his men.

"The Lannisters seek to break us. They fear us…they fear you. You have shown them your mettle on the battlefield time and time again, and these are the sort of schemes they resort to, purchasing the loyalty of fools like the Freys. But they will not break us. Their schemes have failed, as I still stand here before you, bloodied, but still your King."

Robb stopped to gather himself, looking on as his men watched in rapt attention. "I've asked much of you these long months, marched you away from your homes. I've not seen my own home in many months. Well, I say enough. Winter is coming, and it is time that we look to our own. I'd love nothing more than to march to King's Landing and unseat the Lannisters for their crimes, but such is a selfish desire, one that I would not sacrifice even one of your lives for. We will see to our own now, and sure up our kingdom for the future. However, let no man be mistaken. Should our enemies come for us…seek to challenge us…we will meet their force in kind and banish them to the pits of hell."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Despite the pleading of his lords to take additional time to heal from his wounds, Robb had waited only a week before he had ridden east to oversee the siege on the Golden Tooth. His patience had worn thin to nothing, and he was determined to break the defenders in the castle by any means necessary. The sooner this task was done, the sooner he could march north to his family.

And when he said march, he meant march, because he was committed to breaking through the Tooth and then traveling through the pass up to Riverrun, and eventually, on back to Winterfell. Most of their fleet had departed Lannisport, other than a small contingent that would remain behind for Garlan Tyrell's use, and to protect the harbor. Half of Paxter Redwyne's fleet had sailed for the Iron Islands with Theon and Patrek Mallister, while the other half sailed north to Seagard to assail the Twins and unseat Walder Frey. Robb had not yet decided what to do with the castle, but not having to appeal to that traitorous cunt in the future to secure passage through the Twins would be a welcome boon to all.

Robb sat his horse, staring up a the raised position of the Tooth. Needing a tactical advantage, Robb had sent a raven to Lord Piper at Pinkmaiden and requested that his forces join Robb's own in a non-stop bombardment of the castle. Day and night, the siege engines on both sides of the Tooth sent an endless stream of missiles against and over the castle walls, ruthlessly battering it. At night, Robb ordered the rate of fire to increase, as well as sending volleys of flaming arrows over the walls, keeping the defenders awake and attempting to break their resolve.

And break their resolve it did. After five nights of the devastating offensive, on the sixth morning, white banners appeared waving along the crumbled battlements. Robb had ordered a temporary halt to the attack, watching as the castle gates opened and a trio of riders exited, approaching the northern lines. Robb, along with the Greatjon, Blackfish and a small host of guards, rode out to meet the riders. At the center, Lord Leo Lefford looked as if he had seen much better days. The dourness of the man's expression was undermined by the fact he looked as if he had just rolled down the side of a mountain, his armor dented, face lacerated, and dark shadows beneath his eyes.

"Lord Lefford," Robb greeted the man."

"Stark," the older lord growled, face pinched.

"You're speaking to a king," the Greatjon admonished. "Mind your courtesies."

Robb placed an arm on his bannerman's arm. "It's fine, Lord Umber. I'll not force a surrendering man to stand on ceremony. I trust that is why you are here, Lord Lefford?"

"I've come to offer terms," Lefford answered.

"If your terms end with you giving up your castle, then I am here to listen," Robb stated. "If not, then I'll be giving my men the order to start their work again."

"I'll surrender my home, if you guarantee safe passage for all of the castle's inhabitants, including my family. I'd only ask one day to get my affairs in order, but I'll grant you entrance to ease any concerns."

"I'll grant your family and the rest of your people leave to travel south, unmolested. However, you will stay here, let's just say….as my guest. The rest of your family and men will swear to take no action against my interests. If after a year, they've maintained their oaths, and you've been a proper guest, then we'll revisit the necessity of you remaining here. Those are my terms, take them or leave them."

Lefford bristled for a moment. "The terms are accepted. It makes no difference. I have no doubt that Lord Tywin will have me liberated shortly."

"I keep hearing that, and yet no sign of Lord Tywin. Perhaps your faith is misplaced in a man who defends his incestuous children who murdered their king, rather than his loyal bannerman."

"If we're through here," Lord Lefford asked, ignoring Robb.

"We are," Robb replied, turning to the Blackfish. "Uncle, take a hundred men and follow Lord Lefford back. Secure the castle and make sure that any gold left inside doesn't leave. We wouldn't want Lord Tywin getting his hand on it, would we?"

"No, your grace," the Blackfish. "We'll give everything a thorough search, rest assured."

Xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

The next evening, Robb found himself in the Golden Tooth's great hall, listening as his bannerman chattered mindlessly below. He was on his second cup of wine, and could feel himself finally relaxing for the first time in weeks. The exodus from the castle had gone relatively smoothly, and even greater news were the stores of gold that they had discovered in the depths of the castle. The amount of resources that it took to outfit an army was considerable, and Robb found himself fretting daily over how he would make sure that all of his people, not just his soldiers, were able to be fed during the long winter. The gold would certainly help, especially if resources needed to be acquired across the Narrow Sea.

Robb finished up the last lines of his letter to Margaery, letting her know he was on his way to her. He folded the parchment and placed it in his pocket, to deliver to the maester before he retired for the evening…which he was just about ready to do. However, before he could sneak away, he noticed Gendry seated at the end of a table on his own, nursing a cup. Delaying his plans, Robb stepped down from the Lord's table and took a seat across from his friend, who startled at the King's sudden appearance.

"You look as if someone's stolen your favorite hammer," Robb noted, grabbing a pitcher of wine and refilling Gendry's cup.

"Apologies, your grace," Gendry stuttered, sitting straight.

Robb laughed. "Gendry, I like to to think I'm not the sort of king who requires his men to smile falsely at all times to feed their pride. I heartily endorse your right to look miserable whenever you like. I was just curious as to why."

Gendry shrugged. "No reason, your gra-…Robb. I've never been much for socializing. Not many give notice to an orphan blacksmith's apprentice in Flea Bottom, so it's been good having Theon and Jon around…and yourself, of course. They tend to have more patience with my lack of knowledge about things than others."

"And now I've sent both your drinking companions away," Robb surmised.

"I don't have much room to complain. Could still be in King's Landing waiting for Joffrey to take my head. Anyway, Davos is pleasant enough, and it's been interesting to hear some about my family from him."

"Soon enough we'll be in Winterfell," Robb stated, raising his cup. "You shouldn't have much to worry about there. My family knows the truth about your father. And you'll have a nice forge to bang about to your heart's content."

"I look forward to it," Gendry stated, before a nervous look overtook his face. He leaned in closer to Robb, trying to conceal his words. "I don't mean to sound like I've lost my mind, but I think I'm being stalked."

Robb looked at the young man in confusion, but instantly became concerned that it was related to the truth of Gendry's father. "Who do you believe to be stalking you?"

Gendry's eyes shifted from side to side, checking to make sure no one was watching, before he slowly lifted his hand and pointed to a spot behind Robb. Robb, mirroring Gendry's attempt at being subtle, turned his head to where Gendry indicated. When the person came into view, Robb's jaw dropped, before he began to laugh heartily.

"Gendry," Robb started, turning back to his friend, who looked taken aback at the king's laughter. "That is Dacey Mormont…the daughter of one of my most loyal bannerman. There is no way that she has designs on ending your life."

"She's been following me everywhere," Gendry whispered. "I swear every time I turn around, there she is. If I'm working in the forge, there she is. If I go off to take a piss, there she is. She's even staring at me again, right now."

Robb reached out and patted his friend on the hand. "Gendry, I've known Dacey since I was young. She's a Mormont of Bear Island, where the women are the fiercest in all of Westeros. They have a tendency to take what they want, and if I had my guess, she's sizing you up to warm her bed, not kill you."

"She wants to…"

"Fuck. The word is fuck, Gendry."

Gendry eyes were wide, and he didn't look like he was capable of speech at that moment. Robb stood and placed a hand on his shoulder. "If you want my advice, just let her have you. She's a beautiful woman, and she could likely knock you out if she wanted to. Take some joy in life." Before he left, the wine now prominently coursing through him, Robb decided to unnerve Gendry just a little more.

"Oh, and I should probably tell you, with the losses to my Kingsguard, I mean to name her to fill one of the vacancies. You two will be working very closely from now on." A satisfied King in the North finally went to send his letter to his wife, grinning the whole way.