Robb

The Captain's Quarters.

It should have been an honor to be there. That's what Theon had always told him when they talked about sailing. Granted, Theon had done little sailing himself before he'd come to Winterfell, as his father had been… well, it was wrong to call it overprotective as that would insinuate that Balon Greyjoy gave a fuck about his youngest son. More than Balon had decided that he didn't feel like wasting time finding someone to teach Theon the ways around a ship as he was far too busy plotting his stupid and needless rebellion. But Theon had learned some things and when the boy had gotten lonely and homesick Robb had always been able to get him out of his dark mood by asking him to tell him about what it was like on the open seas. Theon would light up at that and happily tell him all he knew. And one of the things he'd repeated to Robb several times was that being housed in the Captain's Quarters was a great honor. It was reserved for only the most important of passengers and many times the honor was never given to anyone save for the captain themselves during a voyage.

But this was no pleasure cruise. No joyful voyage.

The Captain's Quarters was a place Robb wanted to desperately leave.

Asha Greyjoy was watching him near the door to make sure he didn't touch anything but there was no need for her to worry about that. Honestly if he could have hovered in the air so as to avoid everything he would have; the little corner he'd managed to curl himself up into was as far as he wanted to go.

Robb was a brave man. He'd fought in battle against men far more skilled at war than he was, including the Kingslayer himself. He'd managed to sneak his way into the heart of a hidden wildling settlement. He did not shrink away from the darker parts of life. But being in Euron Greyjoy's quarters had him feeling like a child once more, cowering under the covers while Old Nan told him one of her scary stories. Only there was no joy in this, no excitement over dealing with something scary because he knew it couldn't be real. No… this was real and Robb understood just how much danger he truly was in.

"He still cowering?" Euron asked as he entered the cabin, shutting the door behind him and looking at Asha who didn't say a word. She'd been utterly mute the entire time save for the few moments when she'd warned him to stop fighting, back on the row boat when he'd been taken. He idly wondered what would have happened to him had he awoken on deck rather than in the cabin, if he would have ignored her advice. "Come now… at least use the bed!" Euron said, gesturing towards that piece of macabre furniture. "Its Dreadfort style… normally I'm not one for Northern tastes but I find myself appreciating the Boltons and their design choices." He walked over and grabbed onto the leather sheets that covered the bed, yanking on them once before setting them down again. "Is it the pillow that's not to your liking?" He lifted up the leather pillow, stroking his fingers along its surface. "If the nipple on it bothers you just turn it around. I for one like it… sometimes I wake up to find I'm suckling on it like I'm a babe once more at my mother's breast."

"I know," Robb croaked out, trying to sound braver than he felt. He'd been locked in the cabin for an entire day and awoken that morning stiff and sore from his spot in the corner to find Euron doing just that: face pressed against the flesh-made pillow, mouth wrapped around the dark brown nipple that was still attached to the tanned skin.

"At least I didn't snore," Euron commented as he walked over to a table that was filled with food. It was the only thing that was normal in the cabin and Asha had actually brought him some bread earlier though Robb knew that wasn't out of kindness. Euron had informed her the last time he'd been there that Robb had to live and if he died she would suffer. So she'd given him the bread and he'd known if he didn't eat it she would force it down his throat.

Sitting down at a table made from a door… that had scratches on it from nameless victims who'd tried to break through it to escape some terrible threat… Euron snatched up an apple and took a bite out of it, letting the juices dribble down his chin. He leaned back in his chair, careful not to rest his arms on the shackles connected to it or the long dried blood that still clung to them and kicked his feet up, glancing across the stained floor towards the small patch in the corner that Robb had claimed as his own.

"You do know I've killed people there too, right? It's cleaner than the rest but people died there all the same." Robb merely glowered at him and Euron shrugged. "I could kill you there, you know."

"You told Asha I needed to live."

"Who?" Euron asked before looking behind his shoulder. "Oh, Nebula. Yes, I did tell her that."

"What did you do to her?" Robb asked.

"Do you really want to know? Do you?" Euron shook his head. "No… I don't think you do, my prince. That is a tale that can't be unheard."

Robb frowned at that. "How did you know who I was?"

"Mighty Thanos sees many things. Yondu might be blind to what happens in the realms of the living but the Mad Titan is not. He sees all and that included you and your merry little band of morons who thought they could march to upon him and save the day." Euron scoffed. "You couldn't even make it to the Wall and you thought you could defeat Thanos?"

"At least I'm trying to fight him," Robb said, a bit of anger filling his voice even though he knew that wasn't the wisest thing to do at the moment; not when he was captured with little hope of rescue and in the hands of a madman. "You've betrayed the living."

"What's so good about the living?" Euron merely asked with a raised eyebrow. "Humanity is overrated, if you ask me. Always having their own little demands, questioning everything, wanting to debate this and that. Now, don't get me wrong… I am rather proud that I rebelled against my stupid brothers. Balon tried to rebel but he was a fool, choosing the wrong moment and directing his eyes the wrong way. Vic I won't talk about because that man as a stick up his ass which has a stick up its own ass. Damphair… well, he's fucking Damphair. You ever hear of my brother the priest? One of the most boring men you'll ever meet. All he can ever say is, "You're wrong!" or "The Drown God commands this!". Heh… the Drowned God. That fucker got cast out of the heavens and banished to the darkest parts of the sea. That should tell you how pathetic his followers are that they chose a god who already showed himself as weak."

He lazily reached over and selected a crab leg, sucking on the inside to get some meat out.

"But most of the world… they are sheep. They follow at the wrong times then bleat when it is the worst possible moment. This ship… I was able to get it across land. LAND. Think about that for a moment, my prince." Robb grit his teeth at that, hating how the man kept using the title as an insult. "Anyone else? That would have been near impossible. A few might have figured it out but it would have been such a nightmare for them to do that it would have made the entire effort a folly. But me? I achieved it. Because I removed the sheep. Got rid of their whining and their complaints and their focuses on things that don't matter."

"Like self-preservation?" Robb asked.

Euron didn't see that as an insult, instead nodding and pointing right at Robb. "Now you're catching on!" He let out a laugh and stood up, moving over to Asha. "Just look at my dear niece if you don't believe me. As Asha Greyjoy she was a foolish little slip of a girl who made so many mistakes and couldn't stand being in the same room as me. She'd try and pretend it was all well but I know… it made her skin crawl." He reached up and grabbed Asha's chin, forcing her head to turn towards him though Robb didn't know if it could truly be considered 'forcing' if the woman made no move to actually stop him from doing that. "But I've made her so much better."

Euron smiled at that.

"My crew was my first attempts at that so I understand if you are repulsed by them. Every artist admits their first works are never their best. Lazy and ill conceived. Full of the errors of a novice. They see the mistakes and the errors and can't stand the sight of them. Believe me… I can't stand to look at my crew and I'm the one that made them!"

He let out a laugh at that, like he'd told the best punchline in the world but Robb hadn't heard the setup so he had no idea what the jape might have been.

"Thanos," Euron continued, "he hates the living. He's disgusted by humanity and wildlife and all the rest. All he wants to do is wipe them out and start over with just him and his Others. He loathes the independence that we all have."

"So you admit he wants to destroy you to?" Robb asked.

"Oh, absolutely. I'm not like the other thralls that have been created who think that they can survive his wrath and rage if they do a good job. I'm just another piece of the board. When all of humanity is wiped out, when Thanos has scoured the sea and emptied the skies and left every inch of land free of life… he'll kill me too."

"Then why serve him?" Robb asked, incredulous.

"Because its better to get a few seconds more, isn't it?" Euron leaned forward. "And the world is a funny thing. Victory can be won and lost seemingly at random. Every second you get to continue on gives you a bit of a better chance of escaping your troubles and reversing fate." He gestured towards Robb. "Look at yourself! You aren't in the best situation, are you? Yet… every second I let you live your chances of escaping get just a touch better. Not enough that you'll actually escape, as even if you get off this ship you'd die in the waters but still, the possibility is there.

"I serve Thanos because he offers me the best chance to make it out of all this alive." Euron kicked his boots up against the table, leaning back in his chair. "Gives me time to try and figure out a way so that when the dust settles I'm the one on top instead of him."

"On top of a mountain of corpses," Robb pointed out.

"You say that like it's a bad thing!" Euron laughed. "Still… like I said… my crew was my first attempt to bring order to my little part of the world. My niece, my Nebula, was my second." Robb swore he saw something in Asha's face… a slight twitch, a tiny tremor of emotion. But then it was gone and he was left wondering if it had only been his hopeful imagination. "What's coming next is my third. And I think best attempt."

"What do you mean?" He had a sense that he wasn't going to enjoy at all what Euron was going to suggest.

"There are other powers out there, my prince," Euron stated, kicking away from the table and leaping to his feet, arms spread wide like he was the master of a mummer's trope telling a crowd about all the amazing wonders they were about to see. "Do you honestly believe that Thanos and his Court are the only myths that are actually true?" He wagged his finger at Robb in a scolding manner. "No no… you must open your mind to the gross delights of this world. Even before I bent the knee to the Night's King I knew that this world was far larger than you could possibly realize. I have sailed all along Essos and visited lands that would be so strange to you that you'd think yourself trapped in one of the Seven Hells. I have dined with the Shadowbinders and watched them shatter gladiators with a flick of their fingers while sipping wine made from bone marrow. I have studied with the Warlocks of Qarth and tasted their nightshade teas… the thing they don't tell you is while it stains your mouth dark your piss comes out pink." He chuckled at that.

Robb might have thought that the man was lying to him, boasting about accomplishments that he'd never actually achieved. Like the hunter who told stories of the mighty elk with racks bigger than dinner tables but always had an excuse as to why he'd never claimed a trophy. But those thoughts, those doubts, belong to a man that hadn't seen wights swarming across the land. Smelled the faint stench of decay as they thrust their putrid faces at him in an attempt to rip off his nose and ears. Seen trees walk and spoken with foul mouthed raccoons. No, Robb believed entirely that the magics and mysteries that Euron claimed to know were, in fact, true.

"And that is of the world you know of, my prince," Euron said as he dropped his voice to a whisper. "I have chased the sunset. I have seen visions that would drive you mad. An island where a mad maester had managed to make beast into man… and man into beast. I have walked through ancient mountain cities where all that remained were beings that defy all rational designs of creation and can only be considered monsters of madness. This world is a savage, vile, horrifying place, my prince… but that doesn't mean I don't plan to use such things for myself."

"Is that what you're planning for us?" Robb asked. He knew that Euron had managed to capture some Umber men along with some wildlings and had them placed in the hold; he also knew that Euron had given orders to the shambling corpses that were his crew to care for them and 'let them remain as whole as possible'. It would have been a comfort if Robb didn't suspect that what awaited them all was far worse than death within the bowels of the ship.

Euron though, for the first time since he'd entered the cabin, scowled at him in anger. "You take me for lazy, my prince? I am willing to borrow from time to time a trick I've picked up but that doesn't mean I will steal whole cloth from another for my own grand display of strength." He shook his head, body tense for a moment and Robb wondered what it said about him that he far more feared the man when he had been jovial than as he was now, simmering with anger. "I barely tolerate my crew. Oh, they are beauties, to be sure. Awe inspiring. But they are not mine. They are a gift from Thanos… and for all I disagree with my brothers we all hold that the Iron Price must be paid. My crew… I gave them to Thanos and he made them better. But it was still him." He paused and went once more to Nebula, stroking her cheek in a way that would have been tender if not for the madness that shined in his eyes. "It is why I prefer Nebula here. She was created by my own hands. I broken her down like a man might a weak house with crumbling boards and far too many leaks and rebuilt her STRONG. Silent. Deadly. And loyal." He leaned in and to Robb's revulsion the man licked his own niece's cheek. And what was worse was that Robb knew he only did it because he wanted to show Robb how the woman didn't flinch away.

But he could see in her black eyes… a flicker of something.

"I don't think I'd look good bald," Robb found himself saying.

Euron blinked at that before throwing back his head and laughing. "The prince does have a sense of humor! Good! Good!" He chuckled, shaking his head as he moved away from Asha. "You know, sometimes I wonder what life would have been like if I had sired a child. I was always very careful never to get tangled with a woman… they are messy creatures. And when it came to whores… well, why buy moontea when a punch to the stomach will take care of any bastards that might be trying to set some roots." He smirked before letting out a little pleased sigh. "But you make me wonder… what if I had kidnapped a child and raised them as my own. What if I had kidnapped you? Would I have grown to feel a fondness for you? A sense of attachment?" He shrugged. "Questions for the maesters, I suppose.

"As for what I plan for you and the rabble down in the hold… oh, that will be truly something special. There is a mystery I have learned about, one that when solved will grant me power that very well could let me rival the Night's King. And it will be mine and mine alone."

Euron leaned in towards Robb.

"Tell me… have you ever heard of the Disaster of Hardhome?"

Cressen

"Stop that," Shireen teased him lightly as she came to stand at the rail of the ship with him. He wasn't leaning over the ledge losing the contents of his stomach for the water was utterly smooth and the boat was rather steady, much to his surprise. The surprise of the sailors too. The captain, who hadn't been at Dragonstone in the lead up to the Battle of Blackwater, had commented that it felt like some sea god were helping them. He hadn't understood why Cressen and others had muttered, "Storm God" with smiles. "There is nothing there."

Cressen, feeling like a child who had been caught inserting their finger in their nose to dig out some offending thing, bashfully brought his hand down from where it had been upon his forehead, smiling weakly at the Head of House Baratheon. "I can't help it, my Lady."

"You aren't as bad as Karl," Shireen said, nodding back towards one of the sailors who had a thick bandage tied around his forehead; the captain had insisted Cressen wrap his skull to keep the man from picking at his forehead with his dirty fingers. He had a mole almost dead center above his eyes and the captain was afraid he'd cut it and get an infection and then he'd be down a man. And despite his promises Karl kept picking at the spot where Shireen had placed the runic blessing and thus the wrappings.

"Not that horrible," Cressen said softly, a smile tugging on his lips before he looked out over the waves again. "But you must understand that for all of us magic was something our mums would tell us would cause our noses to grow large or our ears to fall off or our palms to grow hairy."

"I never heard that last one."

Cressen for once did not share the origin of that curse, choosing instead to simply say, "All of this… I did not begin this year believing in magic and now I find it a part of my life."

"Ser Davos would be so very annoyed at you for calling that magic," Shireen informed him. "He would grump and complain that it was merely runic protection."

"You still call him Ser Davos," Cressen stated. It was something he had noticed during their voyage. "Not Loki."

"There are only two in all of Asgard that allow him that blessing," Shireen told him, looking out at the lands as they drifted past them; the ship was making grand time. "Myself and Marya. To everyone else he is Loki, Crown Prince of Asgard and heir to the throne. He… he likes it when I call him Davos. Enjoys taking that form again so he might remember far simpler times." She paused. "That isn't to say he isn't happy. He is very much so. Life is harder now with far more responsibilities but he is happy he is no longer torn in two. He doesn't have to be Davos while feeling like he has abandoned his duties as Prince, nor must he hide his true nature from his family."

"And Ser Davos' family… they are taking things well?"

"Well enough," Shireen admitted. "Jane was the easiest, of course. She already had a taste for the strength and wonder of Asgard so she merely had to adjust her view of the world, just a touch, in order to settle into her new normal. Marya has been… well, a treasure. King Odin has been very pleased with her."

"The King of Asgard," Cressen said slowly, incredulously, "is… pleased with Marya Seaworth."

"Very much so!" Shireen said with a laugh before dropping her voice to a deep growl. "If I had more advisors like you, Princess Marya, Asgard would never be late and I could rule without having aides that spied on each other!" Cressen smiled at that. "King Odin… he is in ways my father and my uncles all rolled into one. At feasts he is as Uncle Renly, smiling and making swift friends. Within the first hour of meeting him I had already consented to calling him Grandfather. He made me feel… wanted. Very few people have made me feel that way. You and Jane and Ser Davos… I have always known you three so I can't say you made me feel wanted because I just accepted your love was there."

The old maester smiled at that, reaching out and patting her hand. "Maesters aren't supposed to love those they serve… they are supposed to care for them, yes, but not love them. I suppose I was a poor maeaster then as I couldn't help but love you, my dear."

Shireen beamed at that before looking out upon the water once more. "But King Odin… he made me feel wanted. Queen Frigga too. It took a bit longer for me to warm up to her… most because I felt like I had to support Jane and Frigga grew annoyed with her quickly due to her disbelief in magic. But now she is my grandmother." She sighed, a happily, content little sound. "Everyone in Asgard… they have accepted me. Helped me too. The Warriors 3 were constantly dragging me off on adventures… they still do, when they feel I have become far too focused on my role as Queen of the Valkyre. Lady Sif taught me how to fight as a woman, for so few men understand how a woman should fight. There is an art to it, a way to use our own hidden strengths rather than pretending we are men when we are not. Heimdell, Baldur… they all have helped me become the woman I am now."

"Then I must thank them, if I am given the honor of seeing them."

"Of course you will see them!" Shireen exclaimed. "You will meet them all!"

"They are coming here?" Cressen asked.

"If I need them, yes, but I speak not of that, Cressen. You are Hand of the Queen… and my kingdom is that of the Valkyire. When Westeros is safe… you will come with me to Asgard."

Cressen stared at her in shock.

"My lady… I… I couldn't!" he stammered. "I am old-"

"Odin is far older than you."

"But I am mortal and will die."

Shireen nodded. "Which is why I have already given you some of the wines of Asgard, to prolong your life." She blinked. "Did I not tell you that was what you were drinking before we left?"

Cressen stared at Shireen, his mind trying to comprehend what she was saying. He, admittedly, had been feeling far better than he had in ages but he'd assumed that was just the sea air! His hip hadn't been hurting as much and he had been able to sleep better and his muscles and joints didn't-

No. he couldn't think of that. Couldn't even CONSIDER the idea Shireen was suggesting.

Thus he did the only thing he could: push such thoughts aside and focus on other matters.

"You said that King Odin was like both your uncles?"

"Yes," Shireen stated. "At feasts he was like Uncle Renly. But in battle…" She paused. "Asgard is a peaceful place, Cressen, but we have earned that peace through war. There are always threats that come against us… and when they have come Odin was ready to lead the charge. I never saw Uncle Robert in battle… but there was one time, when I was very young, he visited Dragonstone. Do you remember that? The time before Father gave me my doll and Jane got Joffrey belted?"

"I do," Cressen stated. It was the only other time the king had come to the island, as he tended not to love the place. It was part of the reason why Stannis had loathed Dragonstone and seen it as an insult. The maester wondered if King Robert had only showed a bit more respect for Dragonstone, visited a few more times… if that would have mended the damage done to his relationship with Stannis when he'd given him the island and not Storm's End. Cressen finally decided that no, it wouldn't have, as Stannis would have always seen it as an improper thing to not give him the castle he had held for Robert.

"One morning I awoke early… I think Jane had just begun because she still wasn't used to my rising as she is now. It doesn't matter, the point is I woke up and I walked the halls and ended up on a balcony looking down at the courtyard. And there was Uncle Robert, swinging a war hammer that was far heavier than I was then…perhaps nearly as heavy as I am now… and destroying wooden dummies that had been set up by the master at arms. He wasn't the Demon of the Trident that so many sang songs of… but in that moment I did see him as a warrior."

"And Odin was like that?"

"Very much so," Shireen confirmed.

Cressen nodded. "And… your father?"

Shireen's smile fell but it wasn't from grief or sadness. Rather there was a contemplative silence to her. She was focusing. Thinking. Considering her words carefully.

"In the most important of tasks," she finally said, her voice firm. There was no laughter, no smiles. The no-nonsense tone she often had adapted when dealing with people that thought they could look down upon her for being a scarred little girl was there once more. "When one must RULE."

"I see," Cressen said and he did. The people of Dragonstone had learned quickly that Stannis Baratheon was not like Rhaegar, who treated the ruling of the island as a chance to talk to one and all and be their friend. Stannis was firm but fair. Follow the rules and he was your mightiest ally… but should you break them and he would deliver a blow so great that it would leave one destroyed. Stannis had no need for a war hammer; not with his words and his command.

The same was true of Odin, it seemed.

"You said that Asgard… faced threats?" Cressen asked softly, thinking on that small bit of information Shireen had let slip.

"Yes," she stated. "No kingdom now can claim to be free of strife. Not anymore. Any who say so are lying. The Night's King, Thanos? He brings danger to those that wish for peace. Even without actively trying to do so he brings about threats to all. In Essos there are warlords who have decided to attack cities and do not realize it is Thanos' dark power that is influencing them. He is a diseased splinter, sending corruption into the blood so it might fester and infect all."

Cressen smiled at that analogy. " You were listening during our lessons."

"Of course," Shireen said. "I never-"

Suddenly the man in the Crow's Nest gave out a call and Shireen and Cressen looked up as the man began to jibber… something. Cressen couldn't understand, as his words were caught by the windows and distorted.

Shireen though frowned, tilting her head slightly.

"Do you hear him?" the Maester asked.

"I do," she said, a frown forming on her lips. "He's saying that he's spotted a group on the shore." The captain had been one Ser Davos had trained and his crew one of the best, at least according to the man. Their tricks and talents had proved that wasn't mere boasting, for the crew had run the ship quickly and quietly. They dressed well for sailors and the man in the crow's nest had a myrish spyglass that allowed him to see great distances. "He says…" she frowned before her eyes widened. "Captain!" she barked. "Drop anchor, now!"

"My queen?' the Captain asked.

"I'm going to shore. We may have guests."

The captain nodded. "Drop anchor! Ready the rowboat!"

Shireen though shook her head… and once more allowed her 'cloak' to unfurl into her mighty wings. It still stunned Cressen that the little girl he had cared for could now fly. "Maester Cressen and I will reach the shore ourselves."

The maester nodded… before he realized just WHAT Shireen had said. "Wait, my lady-"

Shireen moved with speed that was frightening, playing strong muscular arms around him as she bent down… before kicking off from the deck. Cressen let out a high pitched scream as they rocked through the air, at first wiggling in fear before realizing just what would happen if she dropped in and instead choosing to cling to her for dear life. Shireen paid no heed and within a minute landed on the shore… before looking down at the Maester.

"You can let go now."

Cressen gave a shaky nod and did so. "Please… let us not do that again," he whimpered, pressing his hands to his knees and taking in several breaths in hopes of getting his heart to stop racing.

"Would you prefer to ride on Loras?" Shireen asked.

"I… your pardon, who?"

"My peryton, Loras," Shireen said. "He is a vain and rather arrogant mount."

"Lady Jane named him, didn't see?"

"She did," Shireen confirmed before turning towards the crowd on the beach. They were an odd group, Cressen saw as he finally straightened his back, having recovered from the flight from the boat. Men in dull armor… castle quality, if he were right, but nothing grand or sparkling. And little of it. Mostly just a breast plate here or there, some gauntlets, a few men with helms. For the most part they wore heavy leathers and thick furs, which Cressen could understand for it was bitterly cold already this far North. He couldn't tell which house the men belonged to but it was clear they weren't bandits for there was too much regimented discipline within their ranks. They weren't lining up like castle guard but they were keeping an order about them.

Intermixed with them were men and women dressed in rougher leathers and dirtier furs, their feet wrapped in pelts and their bodies adorned with necklaces of animal bone. They were far more scarred than the men and had harder gazes and after a moment Cressen realized he was looking at wildlings. For a moment he thought perhaps they had found a raiding party that had been captured by the soldiers of some Northern House but then he saw how they were standing intermixed with the soldiers, rather than behind and guarded, and realized that the two groups were blended together. Not recently… there was too much awkwardness in how they shuffled into position… but they were united in facing them.

"I must admit I was expecting a bit more shock," Cressen stated. "At least a few falling to their knees in startled surprise when you landed."

"They are used to the strange at this point," Shireen said as she allowed her wings to settle once more into their cloak-like state.

"Lady, if that ain't the fuckin' understatement of the world I don't know what is!" a voice called out from the crowd. "They teach ya ta be that brilliant at whatever whore house passed out them chicken wings on your back?"

Cressen bristled and prepared to defend Shireen (with words, of course… she was the one with the axe and would defend with action if need be) only to stop, rendered speechless as he saw just WHO had spoken that way to the young woman.

A raccoon.

Admittedly it was a thin raccoon, almost unhealthily thin, and the proportions were all wrong. The legs and arms were too long, the torso too lean, the stance completely twisted and incorrect for such a creature. It was walking on two legs like a man and was wearing leather armor itself, a small crossbow held leisurely in its hands as it ambled up to them and looked at Shireen with a challenging smirk.

"Come on now… ain't got nothin' ta add ta the conversation? Or ya just use those cock-suckin' lips for, well, cock suckin'?"

Shireen merely stared down at the raccoon… before kicking him all the way back to the crowd of onlookers.

Cressen winced only to start when the raccoon got back up, letting out a pained laugh. "Oooo! I like ya Feathers! Got some spunk!" He clutched at his ribs and moaned. "And a good kick to! Slap those boots off and let me rub against your toes, would ya?"

"Why do you call her Feathers?" a large green man asked. He was bare-chested despite the cold, completely hairless, and had muted red tattoos all over his body. "I have never met a whore who had feathers."

"I'm not a whore," Shireen said simply.

This caused the green man's brow to furrow. "But the annoyed rodent said that you lived in a whore house. Only whores live in whore houses. That is why they are called whore houses. I should know… I once tried to live in a whore house but my father told me I could not for I wasn't a whore."

"You might as well have been for how much you had sex," a green skinned woman stated, rolling her eyes as she came into view.

"Hmmm," the green skinned man said, rubbing his chin.

"For fuck's sake, Gamora, don't give Drax any more fucking ideas!" an older man, his skin blue just to make things different, complained as he walked to the head of the group… and smacked both of the green skinned figures across the back of the head.

"Why not?" the raccoon asked. "It would be the first one he'd ever had!"

"Guys?" someone called out from the very back of the group. "What the hell is everyone staring at?" A new figure pushed his way through the crowd, earning grunts and complaints as he did so, only to come to a stop when he burst through and caught sight of Shireen. "Oh." He stared at her for FAR too long for Cressen's likely before a smile that the man probably thought was charming but came more off as awkward blossomed on his face. "Well… hello there," he said, walking up to Shireen. "You are a real tall drink of water, aren't you?"

He was as tall as Shireen was, with reddish brown hair and a round wide face covered in with a very lightly grown beard. He wore dark leathers and a long coat, similar to the one the blue man was wearing but more ornate and decorative. Two small crossbows hung at his side along with some knives and a sword though he kept adjusting his clothing like he was still getting used to them.

"I like that," the man said, finally coming up to the two of them. "Hello… I'm Star Lord."

"Who?" Shireen asked.

"…come on, Star Lord? Famous hero? Savior of the Seven Kingdoms?"

"You are failing rather spectacularly at that," Shireen commented.

But rather than be deterred the man merely grinned at her. "I'd be happy to have you explain all my failings over dinner?"

"Oh Rickon," the green woman said, pinching the bridge of her nose.

The man, Rickon, turned and glared at the others, the crowd behind him awkwardly shifting in confusion, not quite sure what they should be doing. "What?"

"Are ya seriously hittin' on the stork there?!" the raccoon asked.

"Yeah!" Rickon exclaimed. "Look at her! Tall, strong, has a kick ass scar!" He looked back at Shireen. "You are the total package."

"Thank you?" Shireen said, her tone serious… and confused at the same time.

The blue man let out a harsh exhale. "Ya can't just walk up to a woman like that and ask her ta break bread with ya, you idjit! What has Ned been teachin' you!?"

"To be far he was three when we took over raising him," the woman, Gamora, said. "If anyone is to blame it's us."

"Yeah, Yondu," the raccoon stated, "it's your fault for havin' no moves."

"No moves? No moves?" Yondu repeated. "How do ya think I got Lyara's attention?"

Gamora shrugged. "Marriage contract?"

"How does he not have moves?" Drax asked. "He moves all the time. He is moving now." Cressen just stared at the bare-chested figure and wondered if he was making a joke… only to see that no, he was utterly serious in his questioning.

"It wasn't a marriage contract!" Yondu complained. "Yeah, my daddy had a say but I got Lyara ta marry me through my actions."

"Gods damn it, no one wants to hear about you fucking grandma!" Rickon shouted.

"Watch your mouth boy!" Yondu complained, jabbing a finger at him. "Your grandma didn't fuck no one! We made passionate sweaty love!"

Rickon, Drax, Gamora, and the raccoon all let out groans at that.

"These are the Children of the Forest sent to help me?" Shireen grumbled, causing Cressen to whip around and stare at her in shock.

"C-Children of the Forest?" he murmured. "But…"

"They ain' myth!" the raccoon complained. "They're standin' right in front of ya! Get yar mind out of your arse, will ya?"

"Rocket," Rickon whined. "You're ruining this."

"You already had this ruined!" Rocket complained. "Walkin' up and givin' that stupid name of yours-"

"My name isn't stupid!"

"We should have stayed on the ship," Shireen muttered sourly.

The crowd shifted again and a beautiful woman emerged shaking her head. "You fight worse than my brothers," she complained… before two GIANT WOLVES joined her. The beasts were as tall as a horse, making all those gathered look like children playing with a family pet. But there was nothing fluffy and cuddly about the two wolves, one nearly black the other gray in color. But for how savage and powerful they appeared the two followed after the newly arrived woman with all the loyalty of a faithful hunting dog.

She stopped before them and seeing her casually reach out and stroke the head of one of the giant beasts, the other nudging her side to demand attention, Cressen was struck with a vision of the tales from his childhood of the wild mistress of the forest.

The old women of his village would tell of a young girl, a babe really, lost in the woods when caravans or wagon groups were set upon by bandits or beasts. The child would be found by a horde of squirrels and be nursed by them and raised by them until she reached adulthood, where the creatures of the forest dubbed her their queen. Men would fight for her hand only to be cast aside when they could not meet her high standards. Those that sought to trap her and present her as some freak in a traveling mummur's troop would be ripped to shreds by the creatures of the forest. Even the gods were not spared for it had been claimed by one toothless old woman in his youth that the woman encountered the Father, the Smith, and the Warrior who all longed to be with her. Doreen, as she was called in that telling, had outwitted the Father and left him strung up like a fly in a web. The Smith was shamed by her skill and sulked away in defeat. The Warrior fought her for three days and when he complimented her skill she retorted that she was not 'left handed' and switching her great sword to her right defeated him in seconds. The Maid, The Mother, and the Crone had been no better, for they had all scorned Doreen and thought her a sin against all womankind. Doreen proceeded to seduce the most handsome of mortal men, one the Maid had longed for, so that they ended up swearing to never be with another. She healed the sick that the Mother had written off as hopeless. She advised kings and helped create dynasties while the Crone could only feebly watch. Finally the Stranger himself appeared and Doreen, with merely a quirk of her eyebrow, warned him that if he treated to claim her she would make it the last mistake he ever made. The Stranger had accepted and Doreen had become a God, having humiliated the Seven.

Of course that was a Northern tale. The South did not believe in Doreen, the Goddess of Squirrels.

Staring at those gathered before him he wondered what else the South had gotten so horribly wrong.

"Is it very odd that those aren't the biggest wolves I've ever met?" Shireen finally asked.

The woman shrugged. "Honestly you travel with a talking tree and life no longer feels strange." Cressen's brow furrowed at that… only for a small plant-like creature to pop up on the woman's shoulder.

"I am Groot!" the little tree declared.

"Yes, I should introduce myself since the rest of these fools haven't done so properly. Roslin Stark."

"Shrieen Stannisdotter of House Baratheon," Shireen stated before gesturing at Cressen. "And Maester Cressen, Hand of the Queen."

"I was going to introduce myself but everyone get talking!" Rickon complained before moving to stand far too close to Shireen for Cressen's liking. "Rickon Stark. Hey, I know a little cabin near here that is rather lovely. You seem like a powerful warrior… I'm kind of a major player in the Game of Thrones and the War for the Dawn. What's say you and I discuss… alliances?"

"I don't see why we can't discuss them here," Shireen said, moving past Rickon who merely stared at her, trying to puzzle out if she'd dismissed him or honestly didn't realize he was flirting with her. When it came to Shireen even Cressen wasn't sure what the truth of the matter was. "You are the Children of the Forest, are you not?"

"We are," Yondu confirmed.

"Good… you will be of help in my quest to slay Thanos. I have brought my army with me to prepare the way for Asgard-"

"Hold up there, Feathers!" Rocket declared. "If anyone is assistin' anyone it's you assistin' us, not us helpin' you!"

Shireen merely raised an eyebrow at that. "Is that so? Mighty Thanos is not one to cower at the sight of a talking raccoon."

Rocket glowered at her. "Oh, that purple bastard will cower when he finds out exactly what I can do to him!" He smirked and nodded back towards the cabin that stood off in the distance behind the wildlings and Northmen (who were rather confused by the entire conversation). "I have some things already built that are going to make his life a living hell."

"I am sure," she said, her tone making it clear she didn't believe him in the slightest. "I have been trained since childhood to understand the battlefields of the Nine Realms. The Allfather has tasked me to lead this mission… I shall be in command."

Cressen grimaced. For all that Shireen had learned from Jane and Davos… she was still her father's daughter.

"Now look here, little lady," Yondu said with a scoff. "We've been fightin' Thanos for thousands of years."

"And failing at it," Shireen commented.

Rickon let out a whistle. "Wow." Gamora and Yondu glared at him and he shrugged. "She has a point."

"She honestly does," Roslin said, scratching one of the wolves behind the ear.

"Just because she's new doesn't mean she's better!" Rocket declared. "Hell, how do we know this , 'Allfather' actually asked her to do any of this? She could be lyin' through her teeth!"

"You accuse me of such things?" Shireen demanded.

"Ya ever notice the guilty don't get upset with the actual claim, only that it was made?" Rocket asked and Cressen frowned when he noticed Shireen wince ever so slightly. "Ha! He didn't ask ya ta come down here at all, did he? Ya playin' hookey, ain't ya?"

Shireen pressed her lips together and drew her axe-hammer, spinning it and causing lighting to gather along its edge. "I have yet to test Stormbreaker against mortal flesh… you are small, raccoon-"

Roslin held up her hands. "As much as Rocket can piss people off and probably deserves to get shocked-"

"HEY!"

"-we need to focus on what matters." She turned to Shireen. "My husband, Prince Robb Stark, has been captured by a Thrall of Thanos."

"Euron Greyjoy," Gamora supplied. "The crowseye."

"Except he has a man's eye," Drax informed them.

Shireen considered this. "Loras will be able to sniff him out. You need a ship?"

"Very much so," Roslin said.

"Then I will help you out. Gather what boats you can and make for my ships."

Rickon hurried to follow after her. "Listen, if the old guy doesn't want to fly I'll take being hugged by your big strong arms."

Cressen let out a sigh, wondering just what they had gotten themselves into.