Welcome back everyone.

I just want to say one thing before we begin. I try and keep politics out of my writing and AN as much as possible. For me, writing and reading is a chance to escape. But times like these it's hard not to say something. All I'm going to say is please keep everyone in your thoughts and well wishes. And may we reach a quick resolution to the terrible situation that is happening right now.

That said, let's get to the chapter. So just as a heads up, the next few chapters are going to include several time skips. The reasoning for this is because we are now 28 chapters and 600K words in, and we still haven't reached the beginning of the books. So I'm going to be advancing my pacing just a slight bit. Also, I'm not going to be following the books verbatim. This story will hit along several of the same plot points, but do not necessarily expect them to happen in the same time frame as they did in the books or show.

Shoutout to my beta reader and brainstorm partner Tellemicus Sundace. Lastly, I do not own Disney, nor am I Lucas or Martin; I have no ownership of A Song of Fire and Ice, Game of Thrones or Star Wars. This is purely for fun with no profit being made. And with that out of the way, let's get to the chapter! Stay safe out there everyone! And as always, thank you to everyone who has alerted, favorited or reviewed this story. Your continued support is what keeps me going on this! So thank you, all of you!


Chapter 28

The room was silent, as was most of Castle Black as the sun had yet to rise above the horizon. But despite the quiet and the hour, the sole occupant of the room within the King's Tower of Castle Black was far from asleep. Sitting at the sole table in the room, Alim Nox was idly drumming his fingers against the surface of the table while staring sightlessly at the prizes Robb had brought back from his Trial at the Nightfort. The armor that Robb had brought back had been pieced together and laid out on the table as if it were a puzzle. The only piece missing being the kyber crystal that'd been in the chest piece, which Nox had removed the moment he was alone with it so that he could repurpose the crystal. But the crystal wasn't what had him so contemplative. After all, Jon had found a crystal of his own in Valyria. So, it wasn't strange that Robb had found one of his own. No. What was strange was the armor itself. A type of armor that certainly did not belong in Westeros…or on this world at all for that matter. And then there was the tablet. He would have to ask Robb for more information, but Nox could recognize a Force runic array anywhere. The only question was: what was the array's purpose?

He was abruptly forced out of his musings as he felt the imminent arrival of his Apprentices and Ned as the trio arrived just outside his door. Without saying a word, Nox calmly flicked his fingers, unlocking and opening the door from across the room. It was a testament to just how use to the Force the three men had become that none even questioned what'd happened as they walked into his room and shut the door behind them. The moment they were all in, Jon and Robb immediately worked in tandem to put up a makeshift barrier around the room. It wouldn't stop anyone from entering or leaving, but it would muffle their voices to make sure that no one outside the room could hear what was being discussed. 'They're learning. Good.'

Once the barrier was in place, Ned began what was no doubt about to be a very, very long discussion. "What have you learned about what happened during Robb's trial, Nox?"

"I learned that I am not the first of my kind to visit your world," Nox stated plainly as he motioned towards the armor. "This armor is without a doubt a type of Force armor. Judging by the general design and using the supposed date of your ancestor's time on this world, I can say that this is a Jedi's Force armor. But it has some very…strange markings that I would not expect to find on a set of armor belonging to a Jedi."

Pointing towards a symbol on the armor, Nox made sure they could all see it before he continued. "This symbol is known as 'bendu', or rather balance. The ideology that I am trying to instill in you two. A unification of light and dark; ashla and bogan. I would almost be tempted to say that your ancestor belonged to the original order that predated the Jedi and Sith, the Je'daii. But the timing doesn't work."

The three men met his revelation with completed silence as the full weight of what he was saying sunk in. "You…by the gods," Robb breathed, the boy staggering in place and reaching out to grasp onto the wall to steady himself. "You…Lord Nox are you saying that Bran the Builder, the founder of House Stark and our ancestor was, was like you? A traveler of worlds?"

"Aye," Nox nodded.

Jon was the first the fully recover as he approached the armor and stared down on the symbol that adorned the pauldron of the armor. "You said that the timing wouldn't work for him to be one of these…Je'daii Master. Why not?"

"Because roughly twenty-one thousand years ago, the Je'daii Order splintered as they began drifting more and more towards the ideologies of ashla and bogan instead of bendu." Nox explained, recalling what little was known about the Je'daii era and its destruction. "The fallout of which is rumored to have caused a cataclysm on the world the Je'daii were inhabiting, forcing them to leave it behind. Those who followed bogan, the dark side of the Force, fled to the outer rim and disappeared while those who followed ashla fell in with the governing body of the galaxy in the central regions, and reformed to become the Jedi. Even with your ancestor living eight thousand years ago, that still roughly separates him from the Je'daii by about thirteen thousand years… Give or take a few centuries."

The three men stared at him, slack-jawed at the span of history he just shared with them. "So, our ancestor was a…Jedi… A traveler of the stars, just like you, Lord Nox," Robb stated slowly. "But why would he not wear the sigil of the Jedi then? Why did he carry the sigil of these…Je'daii? How did he come to our world? And why?"

Nox shrugged. " I cannot truly answer any of those questions. He could've been a maverick or a rogue within the ranks of the Jedi. One who wanted to bring back the old ways. He wouldn't have been the first. But as to how he got to this world or why he came here, I do not know. That would be something that we would have to ask him ourselves. Unfortunately, that is no longer a choice as he has become one with the Force. And as such, he has lost the sense of time and perhaps even his individuality. There may be a chance of reaching him through deep, deep meditation. But I wouldn't place any wager on that happening any time soon, or even at all. But questions of your ancestor can wait for now. Right now, Robb, I want to hear every word he spoke to you again. Leave nothing out."

Robb did exactly that. The young heir of Winterfell spoke of everything that occurred during his trial, from the time he fell down the hole into the tunnels beneath the Nightfort, to the moment when his ancestor finally became one with the Force. Through it all, Nox stayed in silence, speaking up only occasionally to ask for more details or clarification on something that caught his attention. By the time he was done, everyone was struck by an awed silence over what Robb had encountered.

"I believe that any doubts on whether or not young Robb here is the true heir to Winterfell have well and truly been silenced," Nox said, making the young man stand up slightly straighter as pride raced through him.

"As if there was ever any doubt in the first place," Jon replied good naturedly, giving his brother a light punch on the shoulder as he did so.

"Indeed," Nox nodded. "However, what I am most concerned about is the warning your ancestor gave regarding the White Walkers and their army. Our adversaries appear to be far more powerful and cunning than I had originally thought."

"How so?" Ned asked.

Drumming his fingers, Nox laid out everything he could theorize about the White Walkers. "Most of this will be mere speculation. But it appears that the White Walkers have access to the Force. Or at least some of them do. And according to your ancestor, they can manipulate the Force in a manner that baffled him. He also mentioned that there is a clear distinction in their ranks; foot soldiers, warriors and those who stand at the top. Which means they have a hierarchy. And the higher up the food chain you go, the more powerful they become. Which also makes me think that the Walker that Oberyn, Garlan and myself encountered outside of Caster's Keep was low in their hierarchy."

"Why do you believe that Lord Nox?" Robb asked.

Turning his head, he fixed his attention on Robb. "Would you send the likes of Jory or Rodrik into Winter Town to pick up something for you? Same instance here. You don't send out your best to run a simple errand. And keep in mind, this simple errand runner for the White Walkers was able to take on the likes of Prince Oberyn Martell and Ser Garlan Tyrell and, for all intense and purposes, win. Now imagine what those who stand at the top of the White Walkers are able to do?"

Silence answered him as what he was implying sank into the three men. Two of arguably the best fighters in all of Westeros took on one of the lower levels of White Walkers and were basically defeated by it. The thought was…not a pleasant one.

"Wh–What can we do then?" Jon asked slowly, his fear clear.

"We do what we have been, only more," Nox answered. "We have to step up not only your own training, but also the training of your sisters, brother, and the other acolytes. We also need to push a few more 'inventions' forward. And we need to work on solidifying alliances for the future war that is sure to come. If we are to have any hope of defeating these creatures, it will take the combined strength of all of Westeros…and perhaps even beyond. And to that point…Robb. Step forward and kneel."

Robb looked at him questioningly, but after a quick glance towards Jon who nodded at him the young man stepped forward and went down to a knee. Rising to his feet, Nox stood above his acolyte with his hands behind his back. "You have been under my tutelage for several years. Your ability with the Force has progressed to the point where few could challenge you. Yet you still have much to learn. But your level is no longer that of an Acolyte. You, Robb Stark, son of Eddard Stark, are now my Apprentice along with your brother, Jon. And with this ascension, it is time for you to take up a true weapon of a Force adept."

Bringing his hands out from behind his back, Nox revealed the lightsaber hilt he'd brought with him from Winterfell. Even since they'd headed out to Valyria, Nox had made a habit of always carrying a spare lightsaber with him, just in case an opportunity for a set of Trials presented themselves. And he was glad he did. While Robb and the others were resting, Nox had set to work. Bran Stark's armor had a kyber crystal embedded in the center, and while it had taken a decent amount of effort on his part seeing as how he didn't have the proper tools, Nox had been able to remove the crystal from the armor and place it into the spare lightsaber hilt.

Staring up at the hilt with shock and awe, Robb slowly reached out and took the hilt with both hands as he rose to his feet. Unlike with Jon's lightsaber, Nox hadn't had time to do any customization to the hilt, so the lightsaber was mostly just a plain lightsaber hilt, albeit a slightly longer one than normal which allowed for an easy two-handed grip, which he knew was Robb's preferred fighting style. Holding the lightsaber before him in both hands, Robb quickly found the activation switch and pressed it. The blade hissed and hummed as it came to life, filling the room with its pale blue light.

"Gods," Robb breathed, moving the blade around slowly, taking great care as he did, given their limited space. "It's…It's heavier than I thought it'd be."

"You will get used to it in time, brother," Jon said, smiling as he watched his brother slowly move his lightsaber around his person. "Gods know it took me a time to get used to the weight difference between my lightsaber and even a practice blade."

Nodding, Robb deactivated his lightsaber. "Master Nox…thank you. I couldn't have done this without your teachings. Nor yours, father. Thank you…both of you."

"The credit goes to you, son. To both of you boys." Ned said, coming forward and placing a hand on each of his son's shoulders. "I could not ask for a better pair of sons than you two."

Letting the trio have a moment, Nox waited for a few moments before speaking once more. "Unfortunately for you two, though, this is far from the end of your trainings. In fact, now that you are both at the level of an Apprentice, your true training in the Force can begin."

"What?" Jon asked, sharing a bewildered look with Robb.

"Did you seriously think these simple exercises I've been putting you both through was the full extent of your training?" Nox asked with a smirk. "No. That was just to give you all a solid foundation in the Force. And now that you both have it, we can begin your serious training."


Breathing slowly, Daenerys Targaryen slowly opened her eyes as she felt herself coming back into her body. It was a surreal experience, 'waking up' as it were, after being with Jon. Or not being with him or – or whatever they were doing. Looking around, she found herself in the exact same position she'd set herself in when she'd first reached out to Jon. Sitting cross legged on her bed in the small room her brother had managed to procure for them for a few nights. Glancing towards the small window in the room, she saw that it was perhaps coming close to midday.

'So strange,' Dany thought, slowly uncurling her legs and rubbing them as she tried to get her blood flowing once more. 'It was still the middle of the night with Jon. Yet here, it's midday. Jon said that the sorcerer tried to explain why such a difference existed before…But he said he didn't fully understand. The explanation he gave me… The fact that world turns and, pending on when it is facing the sun…It makes sense, but…I don't know.'

Rolling her shoulders, Dany got up and glanced towards her brother's bed. It was empty. Still. 'Of course, it is…Did I really expect any different?' she thought sadly, shaking her head. 'Lady Mellario was kind enough to give us enough coin to last us for some time. Yet my brother still insists on using it to pay for pleasurable company or to gamble. At the rate he is going…coin that should've lasted us nearly a year will instead only last a month or two at best.'

Despairing at her brother's behavior, Dany looked around their small room and started tapping her feet on the floor. 'And while Viserys is out enjoying himself…I'm stuck here in our room. Without even Jon to keep me company now. Well…I suppose I can go over what Jon taught me…again.'

Sighing, Dany closed her eyes and started going over everything Jon had taught her ever since she had reached out to him several days ago. Learning from Jon was…well…difficult. Not because he wasn't a good instructor, far from it in fact. No, what was so difficult was that Jon couldn't show her what he was doing or how to do something. All their lessons so far had only been lectures, but they were enough to give her something to work with.

Taking several deep breaths, Dany purged herself of all emotion as she raised her hand. She could feel…something within her shift. A river flowing not from her, but rather through her. Guiding the river she felt, she let it flow out until she felt her intended target, the small chair in the room. Wrapping the invisible river around the chair, Dany began to strain as she urged the chair to rise. 'Do not leave yourself room for doubt, Dany,' Jon's voice rang out in her mind as she thought back on his lessons. 'To doubt is to fail. Know that you will do something even before you do it.'

Opening her eyes, Dany smiled as she saw the chair floating a good several feet off the floor in front of her. Turning her hand, the chair began twisting and turning in response to her movements, as if she were a puppeteer controlling a puppet. Feeling elated at her progress, she carefully set the chair down on a single leg and kept it tilted. Using her other hand, she lifted a straw pillow off her bed and carefully brought it across the room and began balancing it on the tilted chair. Sweat began to form on her forehead as she started struggling trying to keep the chair and pillow balanced.

Dany's hand started shaking as it quickly became harder and harder to keep everything up. And far too soon for her liking, her attention broke causing the chair and pillow to fall to the floor and leaving her gasping for breath. 'I was able to hold it for longer this time,' she thought, partially upset at her failure to keep it up longer, but at the same time thrilled that she was seemingly making progress. 'Jon said that using the Force was like using a muscle… The more one used it, the stronger and easier it will be to use. I just need to keep working at it…when I have time to do so that is.'

She'd yet to tell Viserys about her newly discovered powers. The why of which was still a mystery to her. Her brother could be…well, cruel at times. Especially within the last few years as fewer and fewer people seemed to be willing to take them both in. But he was still her brother. The one who looked out for her when she was but a girl. On the other hand, this power was hers. Not his. And if he learned that she could do this while he couldn't, while the 'dragon' couldn't… She didn't want to think about that. She didn't want to 'wake the dragon' in her brother again. Her arm and face still hurt from Viserys's slaps the last time she angered him enough to wake the dragon.

Sitting on the edge of her bed, Dany tried to think of what to do to occupy her time as she waited for Viserys to return from wherever he was. Even though the town they were staying at was on the smaller scale, he'd still forbidden her from leaving their room without him. Leaving her with naught to do, there weren't even any books to read! 'Ugh…no. I'm not some weak little flower like my brother thinks! I'm going out, no matter what he says! This is a small town…There shouldn't be any danger with just a little walk.'

Pushing herself off the bed, Dany made her way over to the door sealing her in the room. Heart beating wildly, she slowly moved the latch aside and pushed the door open. Peeking down the hall, Dany bit her lip and hesitated only a moment before stepping out and making her way down the hall and out of the small inn her brother had picked for them. The moment she stepped outside, Dany tilted her head back and smiled as she felt the sun on her face. This was perhaps the first time that she was truly disobeying her brother. While a part of her, the part that feared the dragon within her brother, wanted to run back inside and scold herself for even thinking of this, a much larger part of her just didn't care. She was strong enough to take care of herself! Especially now that Jon was training her in magic – the Force.

Smiling, Dany walked down the slightly busy street with her head held high and light skip in her step. There was so much to see. Granted, she'd been to other cities far larger than this one. Volantis and Braavos were easily the first two that immediately came to mind. But during all those times she was always with her brother or someone else. This was truly the first time that she had set out on her own. At least purposefully. And the freedom of it…it felt wonderful!

Glancing towards a couple of the stalls that were selling everything from food to swatches of fabric, Dany smiled as she felt lighter than she had in a long time. She only wished that she had some coin of her own to buy something. The cooked skewers smelled divine! And she dearly wished that she had something different to wear than this dress that was starting to fray at the seams from constant wear. Moving towards a slightly less populated area, Dany felt something. A slight tingle on the back of her neck followed by a coldness that made her shiver. And…And fear. 'What…What is going?'

Stopping, Dany turned in a quick circle, looking around the street trying to figure out what was happening. But no matter where she looked, everything just looked normal to her. 'Jon told me that those who are well in tuned with the Force can receive warnings of danger from it. Is–Is that what is happening? Am I – Am I in danger?'

The joy that she had been feeling quickly disappeared as the tingling sensation grew to the point where nearly her entire being was shaking despite the warmth of the midday sun bearing down upon her. 'Back to the inn. I – I have to get back to the inn! Now!'

Turning heel, she began to hurry back in the direction she came from, only to have her path blocked by a large man. "What's a pretty little thing like you doing in a town like this, little girl?"

Looking up at the man, Dany nearly recoiled. His face was dirty, unshaved, and his nose was crooked like it'd been broken. But more than anything it was his teeth, his yellow and black teeth that made her want to cringe. That and his breath. "Excuse me," she said, trying to get around the larger man.

But instead of moving out of her way, the man only made to purposefully put himself in her path. And after he'd done this twice, Dany noticed that the man wasn't alone. There were three others just as hideous as the man blocking her path that were standing just a short distance behind her. Desperate, she looked around trying to find help, but what she saw made her heart sink. The people around them were…purposefully ignoring them. Some were looking at her in sympathy, but it was clear to her that not a single one of them would raise a hand to help her no matter what was about to happen to her.

"They all be smart enough not to get in our way little girl," the ugly man smirked, stepping closer to her and making her want to gag as his smell, which was almost worse than his look, hit her full in the face. "Now be a good little thing to me and my friends here, and we might be lettin you go in only slightly worse shape. That, or we let you go dead. Your choice, pretty little girl."

Dany was helpless to do anything as the ugly man grabbed her arm and forcibly dragged her towards one of the darker alleyways, the three other men closing in behind her and following closely. The further they got away from the street, the greater Dany's fear grew until she was shaking so violently that the only reason she was still standing was because the ugly man had such a firm hold on her arm. 'They – They can't do this! I – I am Daenerys Targaryen! The last daughter of Valyria and – and…and I'm – I'm nothing. And–And these men are – They're…and no one cares…'

Far too soon, the man dragging her stopped and let her go. Her shaking knees, unable to hold her upright, folded and she collapsed to the ground in fear as the four ugly, smelly men surrounded her. Grins of lust on their faces as all of them began fumbling with the ties on their clothes. "Remember the deal, girl," the first ugly man grinned. "Entertain us good, and we'll let ya go in only slightly worse shape than ya are now."

Time seemed to slow as she watched the men getting ready to expose themselves to her. Her fear and anger reaching heights she'd never felt before as her body shook violently. But just as the first man was about to expose himself, she heard Jon's voice in her ear. 'Fear and anger can paralyze even the strongest of men. But to a Force user, to a Sith? Fear and anger are our weapons to wield. Do not give in to your fear, do not let it consume you. Use it. Use your fear to fuel your power like oil to a flame. Turn your fear to anger and unleash your power on those who brought you such fear.'

A calm unlike any she had ever experience raced through her as Jon's words and his lessons finally slammed home to her. Her shaking ceased as the men around her all stopped their actions and took a step back from her. Slowly rising to her feet, Dany raised her right arm, fist clenched tightly. When her arm was straight out, she flung open her fist, spreading her fingers. The men who'd been surrounding her could only give a frightened yell of surprise before they were lifted off their feet and thrown across the alley and into the stone building behind them hard enough that she could hear several of their bones break. The ugly man who'd first cut her off glared up at her from his spot on the ground, a slight trickle of blood running from his lips, though Dany found she didn't care about the sight. These men…They deserved this. And more. Much, much more.

"Fucking witch!"

Dany's concentration faltered as realization as to what she'd just done came to her. She'd just used her powers. In plain view and against four men. If word were to spread…the Usurper would seek her head even more than he already did! Not to mention all the others who would be coming for her. Whether to kill her, or to claim her. 'No. My – My life is my own! Not my brother's. Not the Usurper's! Not some up jumped magister who would want me as a trophy! I am my own person! I am Daenerys Targaryen! Daughter of Valyria! Not someone else's tool to use! But…how do I keep these four from talking. I – I could kill them. They deserve it but…but can I kill – I – I don't know. Wh–What am I to do?'

Quickly, she ran through every lesson Jon had ever given her on the Force, trying to think of something that she could use to get her out of this situation. Almost immediately, her mind turned to the lesson Jon had given her that very night. 'The Force can be used in a number of ways. Its versatility is only truly limited by the mind of the user, or at least that is what Master Nox tells us. And a very useful tool is what is known as Force Persuasion, or rather a Force Mind trick. You focus the power within you on an individual and into your words and make a, well, you make a suggestion towards the individual. Done correctly, and your intended target will come to believe that whatever it was that you 'suggested' was in fact a decision of their own. Some of my siblings don't like this because it sounds like you're taking a person's free will away from them, but if you can use this technique to force someone out of a fight or end a battle before it could begin, is it not worth it? There is a drawback of course, and that is the target's own inner strength of mind. Some individuals have such a strong mind that not even Master Nox could use this technique against them. And another thing you must keep in mind is that the more your 'suggestion' goes against the will of an individual, the more power you will have to put behind your persuasion.'

Seeing that the four ugly men were regaining their feet and wits, Dany decided to put Jon's lesson to the test. Using as much power as she could, Dany focused the Force into her words and onto the minds of the men standing before her. "You all will forget about me and leave."

The lead man blinked, his sneer faltering for a moment before coming back, "I don't think so, witch!"

Gritting her teeth in concentration, Dany focused more of her fear, more of her anger, more of her desire for these men to just leave and forget about her into her voice. "You all will forget about me and leave."

This time she could feel something, a shifting in the air only she could feel. The four men all blinked as their postures relaxed. Their eyes looked almost dazed. A look that she'd seen before in her brother's eyes whenever he'd enjoyed one cup of wine too many. "We will forget about you and leave," they all intoned, nearly as one as they turned and made to leave her alone in the alleyway.

More than slightly surprised that it'd worked, Dany decided to try one more thing as she gathered the Force into her voice once more. "And leave your coin purses on the ground!"

"…and leave our coin purses on the ground." The men all intoned as one by one they dropped their coin purses onto the ground without looking back at her once nor breaking their stride away from her.

Watching the men turn the corner and disappear, Dany had to physically restrain herself from leaping in joy and elation. She felt… By the old dragons of Valyria, did she feel good! Sneaking out from her and her brother's room had given her a thrill. But compared to this… Gods, did she feel good! She felt powerful! She took her life into her own hands, her own power! And she came out on top! By the dragons of Valyria…if this is what Jon and Lord Nox felt whenever they used this power, it was a wonder why they would ever stop!

Almost skipping over to the discarded coin purses, Dany felt only a moment of regret as she picked up the small leather pouches and began removing what coins were inside. Part of her was ashamed that she was basically stealing from those men. But another part of her honestly didn't care. They were about to do far, far worse to her than just robbing her. This was justice in her mind. Not robbery.

Piling all the coins into a single purse, Dany left the other empty purses on the ground and made her way out of the alley. She was tempted to walk back down the way she'd came with her head held high. Perhaps even purchase a few things with her newly acquired coin? But she decided against that. Her suddenly appearing back on the street none the worse for ware and with coin would probably raise more than a few questions about what had just happened. Also, those people didn't raise a hand to try and help her, even though she could tell that more than a few knew what was about to happen to her. So, they didn't deserve her patronage.

Keeping to the backways, Dany made her way back to the inn her and her brother were staying at. 'Now I just need to figure out how to keep this coin out of my brother's hands. Lady Mellario was right when she said that Viserys was not wise with our coin. And so hopefully I'll be able to keep this small amount hidden for when we inevitably run out of coin again.'


After spending nearly a full moon's turn within the walls of Winterfell, Arianne Martell was beginning to think that the North was finally starting to run out of ways to impress her. But, of course, as soon as such a thought entered her mind, the North had to show her something that completely blew her away once more. First it was their glass gardens and their ability to grow food even during the coldest of times. Then it was the loyalty of the people towards House Stark. Then there was Jon showing her that she had magical powers of her own and he could show her how to use them. And now, now she was staring at something that at first glance might seem mundane. But the more and more she stared at the contraption and thought of its uses, the more and more she realized she had to bring this model back to Dorne with her.

The model itself wasn't particularly large, perhaps the size of a small dog. But it was incredible. A small flow of water that was turning a waterwheel that was partially submerged in the flowing water. And connected to the center of the wheel was a long piece of rounded wood that had several short pieces of wood jutting out from its length. As the rounded wood spun, the wooden pieces that were sticking out from it would catch upon a lever as they made their way around, which would in turn cause a small bucket that was within a shaft to rise up out of a body of water until it reached the top, where the bucket would be emptied into a trough before free falling back down the shaft and into the water, waiting for the log to spin back around and raise the lever. The water that was dumped into the trough would then flow down the length of the channel before emptying into a basin nearby.

Glancing to her left, Arianne let her eyes wander over the one responsible for creating the contraption. The young woman inventor, one of Master Nox's students at the Winterfell College, was nervously fidgeting next to her as she waited for Arianne's judgement on the device. "What did you say your name was again?" Arianne asked, turning her attention back to the device, which was still delivering a constant flow of water into the trough, creating an almost stream into the small basin.

"Hilda, Princess Arianne," the girl said, her head slightly bowed as she stood by, patiently waiting to hear whatever Arianne was about to say.

"Hilda," Arianne repeated, sealing the girl's name in her mind. "Tell me, how is it that you came to create such a work?"

"I was thinking of my family's farm, Princess, and the windmill that we have to mill the grain," Hilda explained, pointing towards the wheel. "The idea is the same, just using water instead of wind to turn the wheel. Then I thought of something that Master Nox has had all of us all working on, and I decided to see if I could use the turning of the wheel and implement it in with the other idea. The wheel turns, raises these…pumps and brings water up to the water trough, which is then allowed to flow through whatever path one creates before emptying out into a basin a distance away from the source."

Nodding, Arianne immediately began thinking of the best way to implement this device. "And do you realize what you've just created, Hilda?"

"Aye, Princess," Hilda nodded as pride showed on her face. "A way to transport water out of a river and across a distance without the use of man or beast."

"And you say that as long as there is a steady flow of water to turn the wheel, that this device will work?" Arianne asked, wanting to get as much information as possible about the wonderful creation before her.

"Aye, Princess."

Making another lap around the display, Arianne watched the device work for a while longer as she gathered her thoughts. "Tell me, Hilda, what will it take to get you to come back to Dorne with me and my Uncle when we eventually leave the North?"

"Pardon, Princess?"

"What will it cost to entice you to come to Dorne to oversee the construction of your creations?" Arianne clarified, turning her full attention on the girl who couldn't have been older than Arianne herself. "A position? Sunspear has recently become short of capable learned men as it was discovered that our Maesters, much as they had here in the North, were betraying us for years. On my word alone, you would become the new 'Maester' of Sunspear and become my father's and my own confidant. Or perhaps you need gold? Dorne is not short on coin, and we can provide you with whatever compensation you wish. A homestead? A man? Or woman? Name your price, Hilda, then double it. And I will see it fulfilled."

"Your offer is…most generous, Princess," Hilda said, her cheeks stained red as she turned her eyes away. "But…I'm afraid I must decline. I be of the North, Princess. And it is in the North I wish to remain. I still have much to learn under the Sorcerer's tutelage, even if I can't use his magic like the Starks."

"I see," Arianne replied, just barely managing to keep herself from letting out a growl of frustration. "In that case, what will it take then for Dorne to have access to this invention of yours?"

Hilda didn't hesitate to give her answer. "Recognition, Princess Arianne."

Arianne couldn't help as one of her delicate brows arched at the request. "Recognition?"

The skills her father had trained into her about playing the game quickly vanished as she stared at the woman. Recognition for something like this was not a fair trade. If she was one to take advantage of a young person's lack of guile, she might've agreed without questioning it. But she'd come to want to foster a good relationship with the North. Or at least with one aspect of the North. She knew that she couldn't rightly do that by taking advantage of one of the Norths best and brightest. "You ask for such a simple thing…for this? You do realize just what this contraption could mean for my people, do you not?"

"Aye, I do, Princess," Hilda nodded, her attention turning to her creation. "But recognition means everything to me. Ever since man first started writing down words on animal skins, women have been precluded from 'learned roles.' Or at least we have here in Westeros. And the Maesters kept this going by refusing women to become one of them, saying that we're inferior to men in terms of knowledge and in its pursuit. Not all of them, mind ya… Yet it was still in the rules of the Maesters. But ever since Master Nox has come to Winterfell, things have been changing. I know that this water wheel will help the people of Dorne immensely, and that word of it will quickly spread. And I want all to know that it was me, a woman, who created it. Not a man. Not a Maester. Not a highly valued 'learned man'. But I—Hilda of the College of Winterfell of the North—a daughter to a common farmer. That is what I want, Princess."

"I see," Arianne said. The girl had a fire within her, that was for sure. "Then your name will be on the lips of every Dornishman or woman who comes within sight of this creation of yours. Hope that you are ready for your name to become quite common. Because I have a feeling that once this takes hold, there will be more than a few daughters born in Dorne for the next several generations that'll bare your name."

Hilda smiled with pride as she bowed her head. "Thank you, Princess Arianne. That is all I can ask for. I will have plans drawn up for you before you depart so that you can begin construction of these waterwheels once you return to Dorne."

As the young woman turned to start writing down the directions, Arianne was pulled from her continued observation of the device as the door to the workshop opened quickly as her cousin Tyene, her blond hair tied in a simple braid bouncing behind her head, entered the workshop. "Cousin," Tyene greeted her without a curtsey, not that Arianne expected her to. Her cousins were rather unruly, which was one of the reasons why she loved them in the first place. "Riders have been spotted approaching from the north. Riders bearing the sigils of House Stark and House Martell."

All thoughts of the waterwheel and its potential impact to Dorne fled her mind as a single thought claimed dominance in her mind. 'Jon has returned.'

The workshop blurred from her vision as she hurried past her cousin, leaving Tyene to all but run in order to catch up with her. Making her way out of the Sorcerer's Tower, Arianne was immediately assaulted by the cold air of the North. But after spending a moon's turn in this land and with the prospect of seeing Jon once more, it did not affect her in the slightest. Striding into the main courtyard of Winterfell, she was not surprised to see the yard quickly filling up with the members of House Stark, with the three Stark children Sansa, Arya, and Bran front and center. As well as all their guests who were currently still residing in Winterfell. Seeing Sansa Stark take the center place within the yard, Arianne took a place close by the eldest wolf girl and trained her eyes on the gates on the far side of the yard.

'A single letter,' Arianne thought as she eyed the gate, willing for those she was waiting for to appear before her eyes. 'A single letter in nearly a full moon's turn away from me. And not even a thorough letter at that. Just, 'I'm alive and something has happened that we need to talk about'. Clearly, I'm going to have to explain to Jon the expectations I have of him regarding our future correspondences. At least until I can convince him to come to Dorne on a permanent basis.'

Her heart began to beat faster in her chest as she started to see horses and their riders making their way through the gatehouse of the inner wall of Winterfell. Almost immediately she could spot Lord Stark, his head held high and completely stoic, a true man of the North. Hard and unyielding. Riding at Lord Stark's right was the sorcerer, as she suspected he would be. But riding on Lord Stark's left was an individual that she did not recognize. The woman looked like a northern woman through and through, with her blond hair braided and her face set in a hard line. And unlike many ladies, this woman was dressed not in a dress or even women's riding clothing. Instead, she wore rough leathers and fur. 'That must be this new 'Lady Val of the North' my uncle told me about in the one raven he was able to send.' Arianne realized, placing the woman riding at Stark's left. 'Well, she certainly has the look of a woman of the North.'

Glancing past the two front riders, Arianne began searching through the riders for the one face she was most anxious to see. It didn't take her long, considering he was riding just behind and to the left of his father. Warmth spread in her chest as she saw that he was indeed unharmed. Though his hair needed a comb and styling, especially if he wanted to keep it on the longer side of things. And while she could appreciate a nice beard if done properly, the light splattering of whiskers Jon had growing on his face most definitely needed a trimming. Perhaps she could entice him to a warm bath and grooming session with her in the hot springs within the Fir— 'Who is that?'

The fantasy that'd been blossoming in her mind of a night in the hot springs with Jon came to a sudden and screeching halt as she noticed a tuff of red hair right behind Jon's midnight black. A tuft of red that unmistakably belonged to a woman. A woman who, now that she looked closer, had her arms around her Jon. Glancing up, Arianne met Jon's eyes. Eyes that were filled with…guilt? 'It appears that something did indeed happen north of the Wall.' Arianne thought, resisting the urge to grind her teeth and keeping her head held high. Glancing towards her uncle, she saw him grinning at her like a cat who caught a large juicy rat and was intent on savoring its meal. He knew what was going on, whatever it was. And he had neglected to tell her about it before they arrived back. 'Oh Uncle…You are so going to pay for this.'

Pulling herself together, Arianne held herself as a woman of her station was expected to as Lord Stark reached the line of his children and dismounted from his horse, along with everyone else who'd just rode in through the gates.

"Lord Father," Sansa greeted her father, bowing her head and a smile plastered across her face. "Welcome home. Winterfell is yours once more."

"Thank you, Sansa," Lord Stark replied as the men and women behind him began dismounting while the strong blond woman took a step forward. "This is Lady Val of the North. She's to be given a room in the family quarters and will be working with me in getting our new people of the North situated before she takes Ladyship of her own keep."

Sansa gave a warm reply and welcome to the former wildling woman. But Arianne had quickly tuned everything else out around her as her gaze focused solely on Jon as he dismounted his horse, giving her the first real good look at the woman who was riding behind him. Immediately, Arianne began assessing how the girl compared to herself. If she had to guess, Arianne would say that the girl was perhaps her own age, but when Jon helped her down off the horse, an action which made Arianne's fist tighten, she noted that the girl barely came up to Jon's chin. Her red hair perhaps could be considered beautiful if done properly, but right now it was more akin to a rat's nest. And she was far, far too skinny. No curves to her at all.

Deciding that she was getting nowhere just standing around, Arianne broke from the line and purposefully made her way over to where Jon was still getting a few of his things, and perhaps some of this woman's things, off his horse. She pointedly ignored the look her uncle and cousin were both giving her as she walked. She would deal with the both of them later for putting her in this position. Making sure she was approaching while Jon's back was turned, she caught the blue eyes of the wildling, she had to be one given she wore similar furs as the Lady Val. The girl, to Arianne's surprise, glanced at her curiously for a moment before something like recognition shown in her eyes. 'So, Jon has told her about me! Yet he did not tell me about her!' she seethed as she quickened her pace towards the two of them. To her surprise though, the girl didn't say anything to alert Jon to her approach. She just grinned and…and did she take a step back?

Reaching the two just as Jon was starting to turn around, Arianne smiled at her small victory as Jon slightly jumped at her sudden appearance. "A–Arianne," he said, her name sounding…odd from his lips. Not at all like how he used to say it. "I–I–It is good to—"

That was as far as Jon got. Or at least as far as she allowed Jon to get as she closed the distance between them, grabbed him by the hair, and pulled his face towards her and threw everything she had into kissing him. She could hear the crowd around them whistling or cheering, but she didn't care. Jon was hers! She was going to make sure that he—and everyone else—knew it! And if it required making a spectacle in the middle of the Winterfell courtyard…well… She really wasn't one to complain. Because… By the gods, was he a fast…and eager learner!

Just as she was starting to lose herself, especially as Jon began reciprocating and bringing his arms around her waist, Arianne broke the kiss and took a step back, leaving Jon, and herself, more than slightly breathless. Though she would like to think that she was able to recover quicker than Jon, who still looked dazed and confused. "Welcome back, Jon," she said warmly before turning her eyes towards the woman behind him, her grin never leaving her face. "And tell me, who is this young woman you have behind you?"

"I can speak for meself," the wildling woman said, coming up and standing beside Jon. "I be Ygritte. And I be Jon's woman. And ye must be the one he moans in his sleep when he's havin a nice dream. Arianne, no?"

'Ygritte? Quite the name. Unique. Wild. A – wait. Did she say…did she say that she's 'Jon's woman'? And that she's close enough to him to know that he moans my name while he sleeps? What in the name of all the hells!? I do everything including strip naked before him and he can't take a hint! But with her…by the Mother Rhoyne I'm going to strangle something on him the first chance I get!' Jon started awkwardly shifting his feet back and forth while beside him the wildling woman was sporting a look not unlike her own uncle's look whenever he succeeded in some new 'conquest'. 'They are quite alike, now that I look at her,' Arianne realized as she began comparing the wildling woman to her uncle Oberyn. 'My cousins may try to emulate their father, but strangely enough this girl who comes from the far side of Westeros comes closer to matching my dear uncle's mannerisms than his own daughters.'

Realizing that pretty much all eyes within Winterfell were now upon her and the little display that was being put on, Arianne took a moment to straighten her dress out as she held her head high and did everything she could not to show just how much Jon's reciprocation of her kiss had affected her. "We will discuss this more at length, Jon…Ygritte. Away from prying eyes. Until then, I have family I must welcome back."

Without giving Jon a chance to respond, Arianne purposefully turned her back on him and made her way over towards where the other members of House Martell had gathered for a reunion. She was not oblivious to the whistles and cheers and even reproachful looks being sent her way as she made her way through the crowd. 'Let them do and think what they will. It makes no matter to me.'

Spotting her uncle, who had one arm around his paramour while grinning madly at her, Arianne felt her frustration and anger at not being informed of this development return to her tenfold. 'Oh uncle. You might like a good show on occasion…but you are dearly going to pay for this!'


Holding himself steady against the rocking of the ship, though it could hardly be called that as it was barely more than an oversized fishing vessel, that was sailing across the aptly named Bay of Ice, Ser Daemon Sand watched as his new home slowly grew larger as the waves and wind pushed them closer and closer to the lone island. The island was covered in old, gnarled oak trees that towered into the sky while at their base bushes and moss-covered grey stones littered the ground. And as if to show how the island got its name, he could spot a family of bears wading through the cold waters near the rocky shores.

Turning his attention away from the bears, he focused on the wooden port town that the skiff was slowly pulling towards. 'It has natural beauty…just like almost everything in the North and the lands beyond the Wall,' Daemon thought as he worked to see past the cold and to what was truly there as he began making out the men and women of Bear Island on the docks before them. 'And it is my home now. My home by choice.'

Feeling a hard hand land against his shoulder, Daemon fought against stumbling forward as the imposing form of Lady Maege Mormont came up beside him. "Starting to regret your decision, southern boy?"

"No," Daemon answered firmly, a habit that he'd picked up during his time with the Lady of Bear Island and the giants as they traversed the northern side of the Wall.

"Good," Lady Mormont smirked, slapping him again on the back. This time leaving a bruise, he was sure. "Keep that strength going, boy. We'll turn ya into a proper Northman yet."

Taking the compliment for what it was, Daemon straightened himself up even further as he noticed a specific grouping that had gathered on the dock. Five women, ranging from his own age to perhaps the same age as the young Stark boy. But it was the eldest that called—no, that demanded—his attention. Her dark hair flowing in the cold Northern air. The way that she stood, strong and proud. But most of all, the way that her arms were holding a bundle of cloth close to her person. He could tell the moment she spotted him as her entire posture went from a relaxed stance to completely stiff. 'Did Lady Mormont not inform her that I was coming?' Glancing back and seeing the smirk that was on the she-bear's face, he knew that was exactly what happened.

"Bloody Northern humor," Daemon muttered as he realized that no matter what he did, there was going to be quite the scene soon, at his and Dacey's expense.

Once they were close enough to the dock, the few men on the boat threw their ropes over to the dock hands, who quickly worked on securing the boat to the dock. Lady Mormont was the first to step off, leaving Daemon hurrying to keep up with the larger woman whose single stride was almost equal to two of his own. As they walked, he noticed something amongst the smallfolk that stood in stark contrast to what he was used to. The people of Bear Island were not kneeling to their liege lady as she passed them by. Sure, they showed her respect. But it was little more than a slight bowing of their heads before they immediately went back to work.

As they drew up close to the five women, Dacey took a step forward, separating herself from the others. Her eyes flickered briefly to his own. Her cool grey-blue eyes were filled with so much emotion; joy, hope…and fear. And as he noted her tightening her hold slightly on the bundle in her arms, Daemon felt his heart sink. 'I knew coming here that the people of this land have a poor opinion of those of us from the south. But is it so bad that even Dacey, a woman who I have shared my bed and heart with, would think that I would take a child from its mother's arm and leave?'

"Daughters," Maege said loudly, greeting all the women on the dock.

"Mother," Dacey greeted the larger woman back, her eyes constantly flickering back and forth between himself and Lady Mormont. "We heard there was a battle in the North against the wildlings. And we grew worried when we received no word from you."

"Blah, just some up jumped wildling fucks that thought taking on the North and the group of wildlings led by Mance Rayder would be a good idea while Nox was with us. Fuckin dead idiots. Good fight though," Maege shrugged. "Though you were right, Dacey. That sorcerer certainly is something else. If he wasn't married already, I would've dragged him to the first bed, or dry patch of ground, and kept him there till I had another daughter growing in my womb. And speaking of…I've brought something, or rather someone, back with me. Someone I know you are all-too-familiar with, daughter."

Daemon wasn't given a choice on a graceful entrance as Lady Mormont roughly grabbed him by the arm and all but threw him forward. By the time he managed to catch his balance, he was perhaps less than a hand's width away from running right into Dacey and the bundle she was carrying with her. "Um, it's…good to see you again, Dacey," Daemon said awkwardly as he righted himself, only to stop dead in his tracks as the bundle in Dacey's arm moved with a light cry coming from within its confines.

"Aye…you as well…Daemon," Dacey replied, her cheeks stained lightly red as she shifted the bundle in her arms.

"Daemon, as in Daemon Sand, sis?" the next eldest girl behind Dacey asked, nodding her head towards him. "So, this is the southern twat who put a child in you. Well, you could've done a lot worse, sister. But I still want to see if his cock is indeed as lar—"

"Alysane!" Dacey hissed, turning her head towards the other girl, who was smirking widely. "Not now!"

The newly named Alysane laughed, as did a few of the others who were close by, but Daemon paid none of them any mind. To him, in this moment, there were only three people on the island. Dacey, himself, and their child that was in her arms. Taking the last step needed to reach her, Daemon caught Dacey's attention as he held out his arms. "May I?"

Dacey hesitated only a moment before turning the bundle around so that he could see into its depths. Laying snug within the confines of the blankets was perhaps the most beautiful sight he had ever seen in his entire life. A child. His child. His little girl. Her hair was dark and already covering her entire head. And she looked just like her mother, save for her slightly darker skin. Taking the infant as carefully as he could, Daemon smiled down at the child as she opened her eyes, the same eyes as her mother, and stared up at him.

"Hello, little one," he cooed, which to his delight made the girl giggle, or burb he wasn't sure which. "What's her name?"

"Elana."

"Elana," Daemon repeated, savoring the name on his lips as if it were the finest of wines. "A good name. A strong and beautiful name. Just like our little girl."

Looking up, he found Dacey staring at the two of them intently. The corners of her eyes moist with tears threatening to fall. "How…How long do you plan on staying on Bear Island?"

Licking his lips, Daemon handed his daughter back to her mother. "I take it your lady mother has not yet told you then."

Frowning, Dacey turned her attention away from Daemon and towards the towering form of her mother, who was currently holding the youngest of the girls up in her arms while staring at the two of them. "Thought it would be better to hear it in person," Lady Mormont answered with a shrug. "This southern twat is actually made of better stock then the lot we're used to dealing with. When I told him of Elana, his first action was to beg dismissal from Prince Oberyn's service so that he could travel to Bear Island and be a father to his daughter. Permanently too, I might add. When I asked why he thought I would let him anywhere near you again, he said that if I denied him, he would simply build a house on the edge of the Bay of Ice near to Bear Island so that he could be near to the both of you. While we were north of the Wall, he showed some grit. Didn't bitch once about the cold nor about sleeping on the dirt. And he's not half bad with that sword or that spear of his. Of course, I figured you'd already know just how good he was with his 'spear', eh, Dacey?"

Dacey turned towards him. Hope was written clearly across her face. "Do you mean it, Daemon? Are you…Are you truly willing to sacrifice everything you have to be here?"

"Aye," Daemon nodded, the northern word sounding strange on his tongue, but not in a bad way. "My father never really took a great interest in me. And for you and Elana…I would sacrifice everything to be with the two of you."

This time the tears fell from her eyes as Dacey closed the gap between them. Opening his arms, Daemon grabbed hold of Dacey while being mindful of their daughter nestled between the two of them. His eyes closed as he leaned his head down the last crucial bit and connected with hers. Daemon knew that he had made the right choice the moment their lips touched. He would miss his life in Dorne. He would miss serving with Prince Oberyn and spending time with Arianne and the Sand Snakes. But this? This was where he truly belonged: with his arms around the woman he loved and their daughter.

"Well, save some of that shit for later you two!" Lady Mormont boomed, breaking the two out of their daze as they were quickly reminded of just where they were at the moment, which was to say on the dock in front of hundreds of eyes. "Someone dump this southern twat in a ice bath and find something decent for him and my daughter to wear. I want the both of em made presentable and before the weirwood by sundown."

"What?" Daeomn and Dacey said at the same time as they both stared in shock at the matriarch of House Mormont.

"Did I stutter you two?" Lady Mormont asked with a smirk. "Do either of you have a problem with marrying the other? Dacey, you've been moaning about this boy in your sleep for weeks, even while you were giving birth. And you boy, don't pretend I couldn't hear you at night when you thought everyone was asleep. Now, are you two going to go before the godswood on your own? Or shall I drag you both there by the ear like the pair of errant children that you are?"

"It's – It's not that," Daemon said quickly as he glanced at Dacey. Breathing deeply to try and steady himself, Daemon went down to one knee before the woman who'd borne his child and took her hand in his own. "Lady Dacey Mormont. I am but a humble man with little to offer you-"

"No flowery speeches ya, southern boy!" one of Dacey's other sisters yelled, making Daemon wince as he looked up into Dacey's eyes.

"Dacey, will you do me the honor of allowing me to become your husband? I will stand by your side now and forever. In the court and on the field of battle. This I swear, before the gods; old, new and on Mother Rhoyne."

Dacey's smile was all the answer that he needed, but the words still warmed his heart and soul. "Aye, Daemon, I will take you as my husband, now and forever."

"Good, that's settled then," Lady Mormont announced before turning and raising her voice for all to hear. "Break out the good ale! We got a wedding a new man amongst the she-bears to celebrate! Time to show this southern boy what a true celebration is all about!"


When she was a little girl, Ygritte had often dreamed about the so called 'castles' the elders would talk about around the fires at night. Like all the other children amongst the Free Folk, they would joke and laugh about how weak the kneelers were that they needed to hide behind walls of stone. They would laugh about how the keeps must've been the kneeler's way of trying to compensate for their wee cocks by building something impressive and massive. But those laughs would always fade when the cold came, and they were forced to do whatever they could to find warmth to stay alive. On those days, the talks of the kneeler's 'castles' turned from jokes to envy. And just like almost all the children amongst the Free Folk, she had vowed to herself that she would one day step foot in one of the kneeler castles. And now…now she was standing in the middle of Winterfell, the home of the wolf lords and the long-known Kings of Winter. And all that she could think was that the stories of the ancient fortress of the wolf lords that she'd heard throughout her life were all greatly, greatly under stating the sheer size of the place!

She could still recall her first sighting of a 'castle' a few days south of the Wall. Or at least what she thought was a castle. But to her surprise, and mild humiliation, Jon and the kneelers explained to her what she'd thought was a castle was not a castle at all. But rather something called a windmill, whatever in the gods that meant. But apparently, they were common. So much so that one didn't even need to be some fancy kneeler lord to claim one of the stone structures. In truth, she didn't fully believe Jon after he told her that. She'd never seen anything like that before besides the Wall. But now, now that she was standing in Winterfell… Now she fully understood just why Jon and the other kneelers laughed at them calling that 'windmill' a castle.

Winterfell was massive! The stone walls, while not as tall as the Wall itself, were taller than any other structure she'd ever seen in her life! There were the households, she believed Jon called them, within the confines of the walls. Not leather canvas tents patched with animal furs to keep out the cold. But stone structures that people lived their lives within. And then there was the warmth. It was so warm within the walls of Winterfell, warmer than it should be. When she gave voice to these thoughts to Jon, asking him if there was some fancy magic at work, Jon just shook his head. Apparently, the man who built this massive castle built it atop of hot springs. And not only did he do that, but he also somehow managed to build this place so that the hot water from the hot springs flowed through the stone walls like blood flows through the body. And recently, the sorcerer had apparently figured out a way to 'tap into' the hot water and created a series of…hot baths in the big round keep next to the huge tower that honestly looked like a cock no matter how hard she tried to tell herself it didn't.

Shaking her head, Ygritte continued her stroll around the grounds of Winterfell, marveling at the ancient fortress that she now found herself in. Her walk had started near the place the kneelers called a 'godswood' this morning after leaving her room, which was another oddity that she still hadn't been able to understand. Her 'room' was a space that was within one of the massive stone buildings that was large enough for a family of five Free Folk to easily live comfortably in. She'd asked where Jon's…room was. But the kneeler girl who'd led her to her space just pointed towards the large tower shaped like a cock and told her that he slept there. She'd then told the girl that she would sleep there, but the kneeler denied her. Saying that only those who were given approval by Lord Stark and Lord Nox could have a room in the tower. While part of her wanted to scoff and go there anyway, she held herself back. As Val told her constantly…they were kneelers now. At least for now. Thus, they needed to follow the ways of the kneelers. And truth be told…she really did not want to cross the sorcerer. Not after having seen him using his powers beyond the Wall.

Passing by yet another gathering of kneelers who were carrying boxes, Ygritte stopped her walk and stared upwards at the tower that rose high over Winterfell. 'Fuck it,' she muttered to herself as she began making her way towards the base of the tower. 'Jon is in there…and I'm his woman. Ain't no reason why I shouldn't be allowed with him!'

Getting to where she could see the access way to the tower, Ygritte began running through what she would say when she finally caught up to Jon, only to stop in her tracks as she watched a group of four women leave the tower. Two she knew, two she didn't. And it was the two that she did know that caused her blood to boil. 'So, I'm not allowed in the tower…but she is?! Jon claimed me… Sure, he might have intentions to claim her as well…and perhaps that might not be so bad… But why does she get to see him and not the one he's already stolen?'

Resolved not to let her get away with…whatever it was that woman was thinking she was doing, Ygritte pulled herself up to her full height and marched straight for the group of women, her sight set on the one who was in the lead. Her approach didn't go as unnoticed as she'd hoped as one of the other women, a yellow-haired girl, noticed her and said something to her target, making the woman turn around towards her. The woman smiled at her—smiled! And dipped her head in greeting. "Fair morning, Ygget, is it not? If you are here to see Jon, then I'm afraid to say that you've missed him. We broke our fast together and then his brother Robb and the ward Theon took him away to be groomed for the festivities tonight."

Ygritte ground her teeth in frustration as she stared at the woman. "Me name is Ygritte. I know and can say yours right, Arianne. The least ye can do is say mine correctly."

From behind her, the one girl that Ygritte did recognize as the daughter of the spear wielder Oberyn, Obara, took a step forward in a challenging manner. "You will watch your tone, Ygritte. Princess Arianne is heir to Sunspear and future ruler of Dorne. And you will show her respect."

Ygritte waved Obara off. "I give respect to those who earn me respect. I know you, Obara. I know your father and I respect ya both. But her, her I don't know. And yet she thinks she has the right to try and steal Jon. Not a quick way to earn respect, tryin ta steal who is already stolen."

The grin slid off Arianne's face as she took a step forward, putting her so that there was less than an arm's reach between the two of them. "I knew Jon long before he went north and ran into you, Ygritte. If anyone is intruding on an established relationship, it is you. But we in Dorne are rather more…openminded than others in the Seven Kingdoms. Something that we apparently share with you Free Folk…or rather former Free Folk. So, tell me, why should I let you into what is forming between us?"

Ygritte was losing ground, and she didn't like it. From one side of things, she could see where Arianne's thoughts came from. She did know Jon first, and the fool had told her that he had feelings for Arianne before coming north of the Wall. But the fact remained that he stole her first. Not Arianne. Granted, they might not have completed their coupling yet, but she knew it was only a matter of time before she wore down his resolve. "And what do ye have to offer him?" Ygritte asked, taking a half step closer to Arianne. "Ye don't look like ye got much meat on yer bones. And your hands are soft. Bet ye ain't never had to fight for anythin in yer life, always just had to ask and men would be trippin over themselves to see to yer every need. What strength do ye have offer Jon? How do ye expect to stand by Jon's side when ye can't even stand on yer own?"

This time it was Arianne who took a half step closer as Ygritte held her ground. "You have no idea of my strength, Ygritte. In a pure test of martial prowess perhaps you would get the better of me. But that is assuming of course I would even let such a thing occur when I can but snap my fingers and have a hundred spears vying for your blood. You say I haven't fought a day in my life, and you are wrong. Perhaps I never had to physically fight, but I have been fighting my entire life for what is rightfully mine to claim. And as for me not being able to stand by Jon's side…"

Ygritte had but a moment's warning. Little more than a slight tingling on the back of her neck. Trusting her instincts, she shifted her body and twisted herself just in time to dodge what looked like a ball of…water of all things to pass right where her head had been. Pushing with her foot, Ygritte closed the distance between herself and Arianne in a blink, putting the two nearly chest to chest as Ygritte held a closed fist just over where Arianne's heart would've been. The three girls behind Arianne all looked like they were about to jump in, but the dark-haired girl held them all back with an open hand. Smirking, Ygritte tapped Arianne on the chest. "Had I had my dagger, Princess, ye would be dead. And yer…magic wouldn't be able to save ya."

Her smirk faded though as she felt a light tapping on the back of her neck. Arianne's dominant hand had come up behind her when she'd closed the distance and was poised right at the base of her neck. "And I can say the same…wildling. Don't think that just because you managed to get close to me means victory is yours. Assassins are commonplace in some circles that those of my standing walk amongst. And guards can only do so much. So, my father and uncle made sure that I would be able to defend myself should I need to."

Looking up into the dark-skinned woman's eyes, Ygritte expected to find something like fear from the pampered princess. But instead, what she found was…excitement. And…And something else she didn't necessarily recognize. Or rather she did…but she'd just never seen that type of look directed at her. At least, not from a woman.

"And what, pray tell, is going on here ladies?"

Arianne immediately stepped away from Ygritte as if she'd suddenly caught fire. Turning, Ygritte quickly found the source of the voice that'd put a stop to her. Standing just at the base of the stairs leading up into the tower was another dark-haired woman, her hair tied into a tight braid and slung over her shoulder. She was dressed almost all in black, just like a crow. Though unlike a crow she had bits of dark red scattered amongst the black. And on her chest, she wore a gold wolf's head maybe half the size of Ygritte's fist. 'Wonderful, another pampered kneeler woman who thinks she can tell me what to do just because I am of the Free Folk.' Growling at having her claim disrupted, Ygritte turned her frustration on the woman. "And who the fuck be you?"

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the three girls that'd been following Arianne all gape at her, while Arianne herself just sighed and shook her head. The older woman however didn't seem phased at all by her, instead she just smirked and shook her head. "Well…this is a bluntness that I have and have not missed."

Stepping up beside her, Arianne motioned towards the dark-haired woman. "Ygritte, this is Lady Nyra Nox, Stewardess of Winterfell and lady wife of the Northern Sorcerer, Lord Alim Nox."

Ygritte's blood went cold as she stared at the suddenly imposing woman standing just before her. 'This…This is the sorcerer's woman? The one who was strong enough that the sorcerer decided to steal her? Oh…shite.'

It was all Ygritte could do to stand her ground as the woman approached the two of them. The woman's cool eyes went back and forth between the two of them. "Do I need to ask you both again?" the woman said, her gaze as cold as ice as she beheld them both. "What is going on here?"

"Just a minor dispute over the meaning of strength, Lady Nox," Arianne replied smoothly, surprising Ygritte slightly as she'd half expected the 'princess' to blame everything on her and run like most weak kneelers.

"I see," the sorcerer's woman said simply. "I advise the both of you to be mindful of where you have such disputes. Neither Lord Stark, nor my lord husband, nor myself will stand for such displays outside of the training yard. Especially amongst guests of Winterfell."

"Of course, Lady Nox, it will not happen again I assure you," Arianne responded almost immediately before jabbing Ygritte in the side with her elbow.

"Hey! Wat – I – I mean, of course…milady. I won't start nothin outside the yard." Ygritte muttered as she rubbed her side where the princess had elbowed her.

The Lady Nox eyed each of them one more time before nodding. "Good. Then I wish you both a good day. Ladies. Princess Arianne." And just like that, the most intimidating woman Ygritte had ever stood before walked past them and towards the large buildings in the center of Winterfell.

"Shite," Ygritte breathed once she was sure Nox's woman was out of earshot. "I was wonderin what kind of woman the sorcerer would be interested in stealin. And now that I met her… Shite… Is she always so…?"

"Intense?" Arianne finished for her. "Yes. Though, one has to be when they are the wife of perhaps the most feared and respected man in Westeros. And perhaps even Essos as well."

Giving herself a shake, Ygritte turned towards the kneeler-princess. "So, where did da sorcerer find a woman like her?"

"Here in Winterfell actually," Arianne answered. "She was living as just another serving girl for the Starks before the sorcerer came to the North and took an interest in her. Those who are jealous of her say that she immediately went for the sorcerer's bed, which is how and why she rose to her current position."

"Ha, I doubt that all it took was a tight cunt and a nice pair of tits to sway the sorcerer," Ygritte snorted.

"On that we agree Ygritte," Arianne nodded. "Those that actually know her though know that their relationship did not start right away. And that Lady Nyra Nox had to claw and fight for every scrap of respect she's ever been shown. Even now that she's the Lady Nox she must keep proving that she belongs at the Sorcerer's side and not some other strumpet. Especially with what happened during their wedding."

Turning, Ygritte eyed Arianne. "And what happened at their wedding?"

The kneeler princess didn't answer her immediately, and when she did even Ygritte could tell that her words were chosen carefully. "A few disloyal houses in the North tried to assassinate the Starks and the Sorcerer on the night of their wedding. Their plan was foiled, but Lady Nox was severely injured and nearly died. And I will say no more on the subject."

Recognizing that it would be better for her not to press for more, Ygritte merely accepted her answer while continuing to rub at the still slightly sore spot the princess had struck with her elbow. "Maybe I was wrong 'bout ya."

"Oh?" the princess replied, turning towards her.

"Aye, ye ain't as weak as I thought ya were," she said, coming to terms in her mind that maybe, just maybe, that her and Jon stealin this princess wouldn't necessarily be such a bad thing. Plus, how many of the Free Folk could say that they stole a kneeler princess?

"Well, I suppose I can admit that you are perhaps not quite the useless barbarian I first thought you to be," the kneeler princess shrugged before giving Ygritte a look that she did not necessarily care for. "Tell me Ygritte. It's been what? A fortnight, perhaps two since Jon stole you? Have you truly managed to bed him yet?"

Ygritte couldn't stop the reddening of her cheeks and she was forced to turn her eyes away from the kneeler princess. Though her embarrassment didn't come from talking about fuckin, but rather from the fact that she'd failed to get Jon to dance beneath the furs yet. "No. And I be willin to bet that he ain't fucked ya either."

The stubborn princess didn't even flinch. "No. Unfortunately. Jon is far too honorable by half to do such a thing. No matter how much I want him to. Hells, I've done everything short of sending up signal fires between my legs for him and he is either too dense to understand or he doesn't want to 'dishonor me'. Noble fool."

"Aye, he is at that," Ygritte laughed. For some reason feeling slightly better that the kneeler princess Jon kept moaning about didn't have any more luck than her at getting her wolf beneath the furs. "The first night after he stole me, he got roarin drunk and couldn't get his cock up. Then the morning came, and I was with him willin and waiting beneath his furs with him…and he went running. And ever since then he might has well have put da fuckin Wall between us for all the luck I've had with gettin to him."

The kneeler princess smiled at her, then tilted her head and started looking her over. "When was the last time you bathed?"

"Bathed?" Ygritte asked, taken aback by the sudden change and lifting her arm to her nose to give herself a sniff. "I jumped in the river before we got ta Winterfell. Tried to drag Jon with me, but the fool couldn't take the hint I was given him."

The kneeler princess shook her head, then before Ygritte could protest, she had her arm hook through her own and started pulling Ygritte towards the large round building next to the Sorcerer's tower. "That simply won't do. Not with the wedding that is happening tonight. I think…Yes, I think that will do quite lovely. Nymeria, please send someone to my room and fetch the purple and the red from my dresser. And send someone else to find a seamstress. Ygritte is close to my shape, but it will need some alterations if it's to fit her properly."

"Wait – what are ye doing?" Ygritte floundered, looking around as she was all but helpless as one of the girls split off while Arianne led her into the round building. "Wha – What are we doin? And what is this weddin ya keep talkin about? Is that the fancy thing you kneelers do instead of stealin your partners?"

"Yes," Arianne nodded. "And it is also a cause for celebration. A celebration which you desperately need to be cleaned up for. Hence why we are heading for the baths now."

Ygritte ceased struggling as the kneeler pulled her along, mostly because she realized that despite her soft hands, she was actually deceptively strong. "I don need a bath."

"Yes, you do," the princess countered, her nose twitching in a manner that made Ygritte want to knock it off her pretty face. "And your hair is in desperate need of a comb and proper styling as well. Besides, this will give the two of us a chance to talk away from unwanted ears."

Blinking, Ygritte stared at the kneeler princess. "Talk about what?"

Jerking to a stop, the princess pushed open a door, revealing a large room with what looked like a hot spring of all things in the center of it. 'What da fuck? How did the wolves build a hot spring inside one of these…buildings? Did they find a cave or something and build around it? And it looks nothin like the hot springs that are north of the Wall.'

Getting pulled into the room, Ygritte turned from the large hot spring before her to the smirking kneeler princess. "We have quite a bit to still discuss, my dear wildling," Arianne said as she started to disrobe right as the door closed behind them, making Ygritte more than slightly envious as she saw the woman's curves. 'No wonder Jon moans her name at night.' "Like for instance, how are we going to break our far too honorable wolf?"


Sitting with his head tilted back, Jon kept perfectly still as he felt the cool edge of the straight blade run up the length of his neck and across his jaw, cutting away the several weeks' worth of stubble growth he'd had on his face. Even if it hadn't been for the fact that there was to be a wedding tonight, Jon knew that the stubble on his face was not long for this world. Not after Arianne had rubbed his chin this morning and casually mentioned that while she did find a well-formed beard handsome, his stubble was not there yet. "So, Robb, are you going to try your luck with one of the girls tonight? Or spend the whole night sending eyes at Talisa like some poor maiden? Or do you actually believe you've worn her down to the point where you can take her to bed?"

Tilting his head slightly, Jon eyed Robb and Theon, both of whom were shirtless just like himself as they waited for their turn under the razor. "I think she's starting to come around to me," Robb said, a grin appearing on his face as the two stood with their arms over their chest. "She did give me quite the embrace when we returned the other day. And even if I haven't, I'm not about to give up trying. A woman like Talisa… Well, one doesn't simply give up on them."

"Just because you take another willing woman to bed doesn't mean you've given up on her Robb," Theon replied with a shrug. "And it might actually do you good. If she sees that she's got competition for a spot in your bed, it might just encourage her to actually get into your bed with you."

"I doubt it's that easy, Theon," Jon remarked as the groomer finished with him, letting him stand so that Robb could take his turn under the knife.

"Sure, it is! Just look at yourself, Jon," Theon replied as Robb to his place. "Before we left Winterfell, the most you were doing with that Princess of yours was talking. But now that you've come back with that spearwife attached to your hip, well… The Princess did come to your chambers to 'wake' you this morning, didn't she?"

Jon blushed while Robb scoffed. "It's not the same," Robb mumbled lowly, taking care as he spoke while the groomer did his work.

"True," Theon nodded. "The lucky bastard here managed to catch the eye of a Dornish Princess and a spearwife. And if the saying about the Dornish and the spearwives are true, they'll probably start sharing a bed with one another before they let Jon join. Lucky bastard."

"And what about you, Theon?" Jon asked, desperate to get the conversation away from himself, Arianne, and Ygritte. "Any girl catch your eye?"

"Always," Theon smirked. "Think I might just bed the whore from King's Landing that the sorcerer brought North with us."

Shaking his head, Jon let out a tired sigh as he realized they were about to have the same argument about Mhaegan. "Mhaegan has been working the looms since she arrived in Winterfell and has even started to help with the arrangement of the printing presses, Theon. She's no longer a whore. Perhaps if you would realize who she has become instead of who she once was, you might be able to speak more than a handful of words to her before she tries to get away from you. And considering the way you pine after her like a maiden after a shiny southern knight, it might do you good."

Theon immediately scoffed and waved his hand. "I'm not pining after her, Jon. She's just…a challenge."

"You mean that she's one of the first women you've gone after that's now refused both your advances and your coin," Robb chuckled as he rubbed at his freshly shaved face before vacating the chair and letting Theon have his turn under the knife. "Face it, Theon. Your ego just can't take the fact that she's turned you down how many times now? Six?"

"Eight."

"Point exactly, Theon," Jon laughed as he realized the trap his brother had set, and Theon had walked right into. "You're keeping count of the number of times she's rejected you. And if I'm not mistaken, you've only been to the brothel in Winter Town once since we've returned from King's Landing. I think our dear squid brother is long past the longing stage Robb. I think it's love."

"Fuck off, Jon," Theon growled, dropping heavily down in the chair and tilting his head back. "I'll make you two a bet. By morning I'll have gotten a maiden in bed. And you two will still be maidens."

"There is more between a man and a woman than just sex, Theon," Jon countered, not wanting to take the bet because he knew that there was a good possibility that Theon would indeed win.

"True," Theon nodded as the groomer got to work. "But all that other shit is not nearly as fun as a good hard fucking. Not that either of you two know that. But take my word for it."

The two brothers shared a look with one another and shook their heads. "You're hopeless, Theon," Robb sighed not unkindly.

Theon merely smirked and waved the two off. "Maybe. But at least I'll be having a lot more fun making a pretty maiden moan tonight while you two are left with nothing but your own hands to pleasure yourselves with."


As the sun began to descend towards the horizon, the activity within the great hall of Winterfell grew in leaps and bounds as everyone began preparing for the wedding soon to take place between Lord Asher Forrester and Lady Gwyn Whitehill. In his solar, Ned Stark stood before the large double glass doors leading out onto his balcony overseeing the godswood, watching as the citizens of Winterfell went about preparing what needed to be prepared for the night. To his, as well as just about everyone else's surprise, the former Free Folk had been acclimating to their new lives with relative ease. There had been a few instances where he had needed to intervene, but mercifully they were usually relatively minor, few and far between. Val had been invaluable in helping to mitigate any issues that rose amongst the former Free Folk. And even though he'd only been teaching her on her new role for less than a moon's turn, he could already tell that she would become a Lady to be reckoned with that would do right by her people once she ascended to her seat.

Sensing his eldest daughter approaching his chambers, Ned turned away from the goings on below him and towards the door just as it began to open as Sansa stepped through. "Father," she greeted him, curtsying slightly as the door shut behind her. "You wished to see me."

'Gods…she is so like her mother, the perfect little lady,' he thought as he walked towards her before enveloping her in a hug.

"F-Father?" Sansa stuttered, clearly embarrassed by him being so affectionate with her, despite the fact that they were alone. "Is – Is everything alright?"

"Aye, is it so wrong that a father might wish to embrace his daughter?" He asked, smiling slightly as he backed away and held her out at arm's length. "By the gods…you are becoming more and more like your mother every day. She would be so proud of you, my little red wolf. Just as I am."

Sansa's cheeks tinted red as she turned her eyes away from his. "Thank you, father."

"I mean it, Sansa," he said, getting her to look at him once more. "I've put you in a difficult position twice now. Once when I and your brothers went south to deal with the Maesters. And once again when we went north to deal with the Free Folk. Yet both times, you were not only able to do what had been asked of you, but you excelled at it. And words cannot properly describe how proud of you I am."

"Thank you, father," Sansa replied, clearly preening under the praise. "But you did not want to speak with me, especially here in your solar, just to say that you are proud of me."

Sighing, Ned let his hands drop from Sansa's shoulders. "No. No, I did not. Olenna and Willas will soon be arriving…and you know what they will be coming to ask."

Sansa nodded. Her face became set as strongly as any she-wolf. "I do, father. And my answer has not changed."

"Are you sure?" he asked once more, this was her future they were talking about after all. There was no room for doubt. "I will support you, no matter your decision, Sansa."

Sansa smiled and nodded. "I know, father. Yet it doesn't change my answer. I know my duty. And I will see it done, for House Stark and for the North."

The feeling of loss was…strange. He knew that this wasn't an end. Merely another path on the road of life that would one day need to be taken. Yet still, that sense of loss remained. "What did I ever do to have such a wonderful and dutiful daughter like yourself, Sansa?"

"One of us has to be the dutiful daughter, father. And gods know, as much as I love her, Arya will never be the dutiful one," Sansa replied with a chuckle, which drew a light chuckle out of him as well. "I pity the poor man that ever dares think he can lay a hand on Arya."

"Aye, on that we can certainly agree."

Leading his daughter over to his desk, Ned pulled out a small bottle of wine and two glasses. Much to his daughter's surprise, he filled both glasses before handing one over to her. "Special occasion," he said, picking up his own glass and motioning for her to do the same. Normally, he preferred ale or something stronger the few times he drank, but given that this was his daughter, he figured something lighter would be easier for her to drink.

Staring down at the liquid in her cup, his daughter hesitated a moment longer before slowly raising it to her lips and taking a small sip of the wine. Her eyes widened as she took another, then another larger sip. "It's…sweet. But it…it burns."

"That is why you drink it slowly," Ned smiled as he watched his daughter slowly sip at her cup of wine.

But even as he enjoyed this small moment with his daughter, his smile faltered as he felt two familiar presences approaching his solar. And sooner than he would've liked, there came the knock on his door as one of his guards announced the arrival of his expected guests. "Mi'lord Stark. Lady and Lord Tyrell are here to see you."

"Send them in," he said, fighting to keep himself in check as the door opened and Willas Tyrell led his grandmother Olenna into the room.

"Lord Stark," Willas greeted him cordially, while Olenna just gave him a curt nod. "You called upon us to discuss something, my lord?"

"Aye, I have." He nodded before taking a breath and glancing at his daughter. Sansa stood tall and proud, her head held high, and her eyes set. Meeting her eyes, his beautiful red-wolf gave him the slightest of nods, and Ned knew that the path was set. The only thing left for him to do was to walk it. "My daughter and I have talked at length. I have given this much thought. And I have decided to agree to your betrothal request of Willas to my daughter Sansa."

The relief that both Tyrells felt was clearly visible as their offer was accepted. "Good," Olenna said curtly, "I take it that you have signed the betrotha–"

"We have stipulations, though," Ned cut in, bringing the matron of House Tyrell up short.

"Understandable, Lord Stark," Willas answered, shooting the elderly woman a quick glance. "We will do all we can to honor your stipulations."

"First, the marriage shall not be performed until Sansa reaches the age of ten-and-seven." Ned began, keeping a close eye on both Tyrells as he went through the list changes that he and Sansa had discussed when he'd first brought the potential betrothal to her attention.

"Of course, Lord Stark," Willas answered quickly.

"Second, we will be taking you up on the offer of two weddings. The first to take place here in Winterfell before the weirwood and the eyes of the old gods. And the second will take place in Highgarden in a sept."

The two Tyrells seemed surprised for a moment but considering that they were the ones that had brought the idea forward first, their surprise was short lived. Traditionally, marriages in the south, even his own, were conducted only in front of the Faith of the Seven. And that was something that Ned wanted to change. His daughter wasn't just of the south, she was of the North as well. And while she perhaps preferred the gods of her mother, Sansa still held reverence for the old gods of the North.

"I am happy you decided to agree to such an unusual request Lord Stark," Lady Tyrell said smiling faintly. It had been her idea after all, as stated in the betrothal contact. "A marriage in both faiths will, if anything, only strengthen the future bond between our two families. Is there anything else?"

"Third," Ned pressed on. "Sansa will remain in Winterfell until her marriage to Willas. While I understand that this is not desirable as Sansa will have much to learn about Highgarden and the Reach, she still has much to learn. Both under my own tutelage and the tutelage of Lord Nox. Therefore, to help her prepare for her future role as Lady of the Reach, we are consenting to a tutor of your choice to take residence here in Winterfell so they might teach Sansa all that she will need to know about her future home. However, we do stipulate the tutor you send be one from outside the Faith of the Seven."

Olenna and Willas both quickly agreed to the idea. "A fair point and a good idea, Lord Stark," Olenna nodded. "Upon my return to Highgarden, I will draw up a list of tutors and send them to you for your final approval. Is there anything else you wish to add to the contract?"

Glancing towards his daughter one last time, Ned shook his head. "No. Though we would like it understood that while we agree to the requested dowry, and you may choose the blade while you are still here in Winterfell, it will not be handed over until the first wedding ceremony here in Winterfell."

"Understandable and acceptable, Lord Stark," Olenna nodded as her eyes began glancing towards his desk, no doubt searching for the betrothal contract. "Shall we now make the betrothal official then?"

"Aye," Ned nodded, moving over to his desk with Sansa and pulling out the contract that Olenna had given him after their first meeting.

Laying the betrothal contract flat on his desk, Ned took his time in once again reading every word that'd been written, just to make sure that he hadn't missed anything the previous dozen or so times he'd read it over. Dipping his quill in the ink pot, Ned added the few stipulations that'd been agreed upon before signing his name to the bottom of the contract. Feeling like he'd just run to the Wall and back, he handed the quill off to his daughter. Knowing what was expected of her, Sansa made a show of reading over the contract very carefully before placing her own delicate name at the bottom.

Turning the contract around, Ned held out the quill for Willas to take. "The contract will stay with me until you depart," Ned said as he watched Willas read it over as well before placing his name at the bottom. "And I will have Maester Luwin create a copy so that one can be kept with you and the other with us."

"Acceptable," Olenna said, quickly taking the quill and barely reading over the contract before placing her name at the bottom right next to Ned's. "And now our families are set to join as one. I trust you will be making the announcement public tonight as soon as it is appropriate to do so?"

"Aye, when it is appropriate. I would prefer not to take away from the festivities tonight," Ned answered. He knew how important wedding ceremonies and feasts were, and he did not want to take that away from Asher and Gwyn.

Olenna nodded as if she expected the answer. "You will consent to Willas escorting and dancing with your daughter tonight though, will you not Lord Stark?"

"I see no reason why he shouldn't," Ned answered shaking his head and feeling like another piece of him had died. He had just signed away his daughter. He knew it would happen at some point in time, but he'd held out hope that it would still be years before he would have to face what he was facing now. "They are betrothed after all."

"Splendid," Olenna replied. "Well, come now Willas. We have an evening to prepare for. And I'm sure that your betrothed needs time to get ready herself."

"Of course," Willas nodded before stepping forward and slowly reaching out for Sansa's hand. Taking her hand, he brought it up and placed a chaste and respectful kiss to the back of her hand. "I look forward to getting to know you better, my lady wolf."

Sansa smiled warmly as Willas let her hand go. "And I you, Lord Tyrell."

"Willas, please, Lady Sansa."

"Then it is Sansa to you as well, Willas."

"Yes, yes, that is enough of that now," Olenna sighed, separating the two from one another. "You two will have plenty of time tonight to get better acquainted with one another."

"As you say, grandmother," Willas sighed before giving Sansa and Ned one last acknowledgement of goodbye and following his grandmother out into the hall.

Now alone once more with his daughter, Ned let his defenses fall as he all but collapsed back into his chair. 'I do believe it was easier to fight on the frontlines of battle.'

"Father," Sansa's voice sounded worried as she approached him, her fingers lightly touching his arm as she knelt next to him. "Are you alright, father?"

"Aye," he nodded, patting her hand with his other hand. "I just…I had hoped that you would still be my little wolf for a while longer."

Sansa's smile was bright, just like her mother's. "I'm still your little wolf, father. Just because I'm betrothed now…by the gods is that strange to say. It doesn't change the fact that I am still your little wolf, father. I always will be. And there is still a long time before I'm to be married."

"Five years is not necessarily a 'long time', Sansa," Ned replied good naturedly as he stared down at his beautiful, dutiful daughter.

Smiling, Sansa got to her feet. "Come now, father. This is not a night for brooding. It's a night for celebration. For Asher and Gwyn. For myself. And for Robb."


Holding onto his wife with one arm wrapped around her waist and the other in her hand, Nox led Nyra through a waltz with everyone else who was on the dance floor as he kept his movements in tune with the music coming from the rear of the hall. The wedding feast was well underway and already more than a few of the more overambitious within the crowd had had to be escorted back to their rooms after one too many pitchers of ale or wine. Of course, while the marriage between Asher and Gwyn was the primary focus, as was evident as the two were seated at the head table next to Ned and Robb, the marriage was not the only reason for celebration. Ned had announced at the opening to the feast that he'd agreed to the betrothal between Sansa and Willas and that Robb had succeeded in not only passing his Trial in the Force to become an Apprentice, but that his son had also brought back the armor and remains of Bran the Builder, the founder of House Stark, so that he could be properly laid to rest in Winterfell. So, with those three events, it was no wonder as to why so many were celebrating so hard.

But despite rambunctious celebration happening around them, neither Nyra nor himself were feeling quite as joyful. Neither needed to say it, but both were thinking of their own wedding…and the disaster that occurred during their wedding feast and the subsequent loses that came shortly after.

"Am I a horrible person, Alim?" Nyra whispered as she rested her head against his chest as the music slowed in its pace.

"Why?" he asked, holding her close.

He could feel his wife's sorrow as she pressed herself harder into him. "Because this is what our night should have been like. A time for celebration. A time for joy. And tonight, we should've had our son Khem with us. But instead…our son is gone. And all I can think is why should this ceremony be so full of joy when ours was so full of sorrow. I – I'm such a horrible person, am I not?"

Holding her close, Nox rested his forehead against hers. "No, you're not, Nyra. Trust me, I've met more than my fair share of 'horrible people'. And you are certainly not one of them. All that your thoughts mean, Nyra, is that you're human."

He could feel his wife nod into his chest as she took several long breaths, during each of which the ill mood that'd permeated her being slowly dissipated. "Thank you, Alim," she said, pulling back enough so that she could lean up and gently press her lips against his own. "It seems that Robb is quite enjoying himself tonight. Though that might be because of the company that's staying by his side."

Smirking, Nox let his attention slide over to where Robb was sitting, or rather slouching in his seat as he drank his fifth tankard of ale while around him the men and women of the North cheered him on, led by none other than the bride and groom. There was one amongst them however that did not necessarily look particularly amused, and that was Talisa. Though her lack of amusement seemed to stem more from her worry of Robb over the amount of alcohol he was consuming, even if she wouldn't admit that out loud, he could sense it. "Shall we place a wager on how much longer she will continue holding out?" Nox asked as he tilted his head towards where the two were sitting.

Leaning back, Nyra turned her head towards the two and gave off a light chuckle. "I would say…two years…three tops. And that is because I know that girl and what she wants to accomplish. And if she does manage to do what she hopes, then she will win over every lord and lady in the North quicker than you did, my love. But tonight, I'm more concerned with poor Jon over there. He looks like someone has kicked Ghost."

She wasn't wrong. Jon was sitting on his own near to Robb, drinking almost as fast as his brother was. The reasoning for his drinking was obvious to anyone who knew anything about the lad. When the feast had started, Arianne had made quite the showing by arriving with Ygritte on her arm; her in purple silk dress and the spearwife in a bright red silk dress. Needless to say, the two had drawn the eyes of just about everyone in the hall. And Jon had drawn the ire and jealousy of just about every man in the hall when he danced first with Arianne and then with Ygritte. However, after those single dances the two women had shooed Jon away from them and proceeded to completely ignore the poor lad. Nox recognized the game the two girls were playing. They were trying to break Jon. And judging from the smug feelings emanating from both girls and the amount of ale Jon was consuming, they were well on their way to succeeding.

"I wouldn't worry too much about Jon," Nox replied, smirking as he could just about tell exactly how his young apprentice's night was about to play out. "I have a feeling that his brooding will be well and truly gone by morning."

Nyra tilted her head at him, then turned just enough so that she could eye the two young ladies that were the cause of his Apprentice's melancholy. "Those two are going to eat him alive, aren't they?"

"Of course they are," Nox nodded, smirking as he thought of just what his young apprentice was in for. "But I can think of a lot of worse ways to go. Some of them include getting eaten alive by a few very unsavory creatures that exist."

"I really don't think I want to know," Nyra chuckled, leaning her head against his chest once more. But the slight humor she had faded as a new wave of despair slowly coursed through her. "Alim…I know that we haven't really spoken of this but…but what if losing Khem…What if I am no longer able—?"

"Nyra," Nox said, cutting his wife off before she could say more. "I told you before. It doesn't matter."

Her despair didn't lessen as she shook her head against his chest. "But it does, Alim. You…You need an heir. And if I can't do my duty to provide you with one, then…"

"Then we will live out our lives together with it just being the two of us, Nyra," he said, pausing in their dance so that he could tilt her face up, his sightless covered eyes staring down into her beautiful eyes. "I've told you before, Nyra. You are what I need. You are the lone light in my world in a sea of darkness. And I will not set you aside, no matter what anyone else says or tries to do. And as for you being barren, trauma like yours my love takes time to recover from. Even with Sansa's healing ability, it will take time for your body to return to normal. And it will come back, Nyra…I swear to you. No matter what I have to do."

Her despair lessened, if even only the by the slightest bit. "Thank you, Alim," she said, leaning forward and pressing her lips against his own. "I was thinking, Alim. We never really had a proper wedding night. And since everyone is here… Well, there wouldn't be much of a need for either of us to hold back once we return to our rooms then. Would there?"

Smirking, Nox pressed his forehead against Nyra's. "No, my dear, there certainly wouldn't be."


Stumbling more than slightly, Jon Stark slowly made his way down the corridors of Winterfell towards his infrequently used chambers that were in the family wing of the great keep. He still had his chambers in the Sorcerer's Tower and often preferred to spend his night there. But between the look that Lady Nox was giving Lord Nox during the wedding and feast, which promised that no one in the vicinity of the tower would be getting a decent night's sleep, and the amount of ale and wine he drank…his chambers in the Sorcerer's Tower were out of the question tonight. 'Damn it,' he muttered, as the world began to turn slightly, forcing him to stop and lean against the warm stone walls of Winterfell to try and regain his sense of balance. 'I didn't drink that much…did I? Well…I guess I did…but it was their fault!'

The night had started off, well, perfectly he guessed. The wedding between Asher and Gwyn went off without issue. Then there was the feast, that was serving as a dual, or rather thrice, celebration. Asher and Gwyn's marriage. Robb's ascension to Apprentice. And then the announcement of the betrothal between Sansa and Willas. After the first course had been cleared and the music began, Jon immediately got to his feet and sought out Arianne for a dance. When he finally found her, his heart nearly stopped. She was wearing a beautiful purple dress that hugged her body in such a way that you could see every single delectable curve on her body. And while the sight was enough to take his breath away, she wasn't the only contributing factor to his hesitation. For sitting right beside her was Ygritte, wearing a red dress that, while obviously not tailored for her, still looked completely amazing on her.

Unfortunately for him, before he realized it, he was standing before the two most beautiful women in the room. And he realized that he was well and certainly screwed. How could he ask one of them to dance while neglecting the other? Mercifully, Arianne took pity on him and before he could ask anything, she rose to her feet and took his hand in hers intent to lead him out to the dance floor. But not before shooting a passing remark over her shoulder that Ygritte would be next. The dance was…pure bliss. Holding Arianne in his arms…there were no words to describe it. He truly cursed every god he knew the moment the song ended, and she parted from him. But the moment she did, Ygritte immediately took her place. The spearwife clearly did not know how to dance, and it showed as she stepped on his toes more than once. But she was nothing if not a quick learner. And by the time the song ended she was able to successfully follow his lead through the steps of the song.

If the night had continued that way, Jon would've been able to die a happy man. But it hadn't. After sharing just a single dance with each woman, they promptly sent him away and then ignored him. Which was why he ended up so deep into his cups with Theon and Robb. Arianne and Ygritte, while quite talkative with each other and the other ladies from Dorne, seemed completely content to utterly ignore him for the rest of the night. By the time the bedding was called for, which Asher and Gwyn managed to avoid by sneaking out while no one was looking, Jon was so deep into his cups that he was finding it difficult to keep his head up, or his eyes focused. But as bad as he was, Robb was worse. It seemed like, just as they did with the married couple, everyone in the hall wanted to congratulate Robb on his ascension to Apprentice with a drink. And when Lord Stark called for an end to the night, Robb was so far gone that he had to be aided out of the hall by Talisa. Something that caused no small number of cheers and whistles and more than one suggestion about what they should be getting up to.

But unlike his brother, or even Theon who managed to snag a woman of his own during the night, at the end of the feast Jon was left alone. Both Arianne and Ygritte had disappeared from the hall at some point in time while he was distracted. Leaving him without even a parting goodbye.

Pushing himself off the wall, Jon resolved not to let himself wallow in self-pity as he finally made it to the hall with his chambers at the end. 'What did I expect?' he thought sourly to himself as he fumbled trying to get the latch undone to his room. 'I should've known that it was too much to hope for that I might just have a chance with…both…of…oh…gods…'

Jon's mind completely ceased to function as the door to his room swung open and he found himself staring at both Arianne and Ygritte, laying on his bed. Both had been stripped of their dresses…and they were… They were both down to nothing but their small clothes and chest bindings, if the almost see-through material they were wearing could be called that though. What was more, each woman was casually trailing her fingers across the length of the other's skin.

"Well, Jon?" Arianne's rich voice called out through the haze that'd settled in his head. "Are you going to come in and shut the door? Or just stand there like a fool and let all the heat out?"

Ygritte's light chuckle joined her. "He's still such a shy one. Ye would think that men would be dreamin of somethin like this. And he just be standing there like one of them maids in the hall, waitin for some man to ask them to dance."

Jon somehow managed to clear his head enough to step into the room and shut the door behind him. He wasn't a fool. He knew – He knew what was going on. It was just…oh gods… Was this – Was this happening? As one, Arianne and Ygritte slipped off opposite sides of his bed and walked towards him. Jon was unable to do anything as the two beauties came up beside him and started running their hands along his arms and shoulders. Or rather, he was unwilling to do anything that might shatter this dream that he had to be having. Because there was absolutely no chance that this was happening…was there?

"Hmm, you see, Ygritte," Arianne said on his right, her voice as calm as if they were discussing the weather even as her hands ran up and down his chest and shoulders. "Sometimes the hinting of something is far better than just outright stating it. And now that I've proven my point, perhaps I can convince you to try some of the other underclothes that have begun being brought over from the Summerset Isles."

On his left, Ygritte hummed as she pressed his arm into the valley between her breasts. "Hmm, ye be right on this one, Arianne. But…mayhap it work a wee bit too well. I do believe we broke our wolf."

If he hadn't been held in place by the two women, he would've jumped to the roof when Arianne's hand snaked down his chest and grabbed his painfully hard length through his pants. "Hmm…no. He's not broken. He's more than ready for this… So, the question is…Is he ready for us?"

Ygritte's hand slid down his back before slapping his backside. "Hmm, perhaps yer right. I thought he was strong enough for da both of us. But apparently not. Perhaps we should go and find some stronger men to steal us? Seeing as how this one here apparently ain't ready to steal that which wants to be stolen."

The thought of the two of them leaving to find someone else broke something within Jon. The wolf and the dragon that he'd long since kept locked away deep inside him both broke free, howling and raging at the challenge and thought of losing that which was his!

Wrapping his arm around both women, Jon picked them both up at the same time and ran for the, thankfully, large bed in the center of his chambers. Arianne's and Ygritte's surprised laughs slowly turned into moans as the fire within Jon propelled him forward as he began placing kisses along every spot of flesh he could find while also tearing off his own clothes in the process. He wasn't entirely sure how it happened, but Jon suddenly found himself atop of Arianne, his length pressing against her warm core while her legs wrapped around her waist while Ygritte ran her hands through his hair and whispered into his ear. "She maybe yer first, but don't spend yerself completely in her, Jon Stark. Ye be mine as well…and I want ya to claim me like the wolf ye are before the night be over."

Feeling the most wonderful sensation of warmth overtake him as Arianne's legs tightened, Jon roughly grabbed Ygritte by the back of her neck and kissed her forcibly. "I plan on doing more than just claiming you two tonight…I plan on ruining you both for anyone other than me!"

"Then – ah – Then do it, Jon!" Arianne moaned from beneath him, her legs traveling up and down his legs and backside. "Show us – oh gods – Show us the wolf within you! Claim us both!"

Breaking free from Ygritte, Jon leaned down and latched onto Arianne's delicate neck as he began moving as fast and hard as he could. These two had been teasing him for as long as he knew them… It was far past time they both learned what it meant when you let a dragonwolf out of its cage!