AN: Hey all here is the next chapter of the Frozen Throne, I hope you all enjoy it. The support so far has been brilliant and I really appreciate it. As always I love to read long reviews and peoples' thoughts on what have happened thus far, and what might happen in the future.

Hope you all enjoy the chapter.

Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson, or Game of Thrones, or a Song of Ice and Fire.

( - )

(Last Time)

In fact the whole ordeal had been pretty easy and simplistic, they had passed complete unnoticed, walking on the frozen water even as a blizzard formed around them, hiding them from view.

Now though they had found their quarry, a large, heavily wooded island somewhat isolated from the rest of the mainland, but which had a large amount of living beings on it.

It would be a perfect staging ground for the Night King's scourge of the Seven Kingdoms. Of course first they had to take it, massacring the inhabitants as they did so and reanimating them to bolster their ever-growing forces.

The thought of which for Percy, caused the first stirrings of unease to build up within him, feelings which the now much quieter whispers of the Night King couldn't quite assuage.

( - )

Chapter 4

( - )

(On Bear Island)

The mangonel on the shore of Bear Island fired again, launching a large stone out across the now frozen sea which surrounded the island, the rocky ammunition, which usually sank boats with a single hit, instead smashing into the ice and the small army of undead that were running across, plunging through the ice as it did, and dragging at least half a dozen reanimated corpses into the icy water with it, their mangled, decaying bodies swiftly sinking into the briny depths.

It was all futile though, because as Percy looked on at the ongoing battle from his undead mount, he waved his hand, almost nonchalantly, and the water froze over again. With the rest of the undead horde, numbering well over a thousand, continued their assault.

Even as Sylvanas, who rode trotted along next to him on her own steed, used her bow to send volley after volley of arrows, made of ice, over the top of the palisade around the port, her every shot felling yet another of Bear Island's defenders, as they flew far further than one would think possible, the arrows of ice cutting through fur and chainmail with ease.

"Aim for the ones operating the war machines." Percy spoke up from where he sat next to the white haired woman, absentmindedly manipulating the ice below him as he did so, after which he raised a wall of ice from the frozen sea, one which went on to block a ballistae bolt sent at him from one of the half dozen war machines that dotted the besieged coast line. Machines that were usually used to drive off raiders.

Only for Percy to then flick his hand, and shatter the wall, after which he sent the remnants of the icy wall hurtling over his horde of soldiers and at the palisade. The sharpened shards of ice hitting the wall of wooden spikes with high velocity, tearing through it as it did so, before it then rained down upon the defenders, cutting down a least half dozen men. The sharpened shards of ice scything through fur and leather armour, ironically like a hot knife through butter, after which they struck the rocky ground and shattered, spraying those around them with smaller fragments of ice.

Sylvanas grunted at Percy in reply to that, before she angled her bow and unleashed another volley, the icy arrow she released multiplying in mid-air as she used her own ice based magic, which although not on the same level as Percy's, was still pretty damn formidable. After which the arrows rained down on the men operating several of the war machines, the projectiles not accurate as usual due to splitting in mid-air, but still very deadly as several Bear Island soldier's found out personally.

"Advance the army." The white haired woman then retorted to Percy, as she ignored the cries of pain and dying men from behind the palisade and instead looked at her partner, her glowing blue eyes boring into him expectantly.

"They are advancing," Percy returned, his gaze shifting over to their army of well over a thousand undead soldiers, all of whom were moving forward on mass, with them having reached the palisade by now, where they were attempting to force their way through, or in some cases over the top.

Which was not an easy task as the defenders of Bear Island were putting up a fierce defence, raining down arrows, rocks, hot tar and ballistae bolts onto the undead horde as they did. The hardened northerners standing strong, even half an hour after battle was joined, as they held their defensive line, nearly a hundred men standing on the wooden platform that ran just along the back of the tall wall of wood stakes.

Despite their efforts though their defences could only last so long, after all they only had a finite number of defenders available, far less than the army that Percy himself commanded. On top of which for every one of their number that fell, so too would Percy's army grow, as he would then be able to use his necromantic abilities to reanimate the corpses of the fallen and add their numbers to his own.

All in all the defenders of Bear Island's position was unsustainable, and unlike the dead, they would tire, and when they did, well, then they themselves would be dead.

"We need to break through the palisade and take the fight to the enemy." Sylvanas replied, even as she used her bow to snipe down the crew of the mangonel.

Percy looked over to Sylvanas at that, weighing up her words as he did so, before he then looked back over at the ongoing battle. "Then I join the battle properly, and will lead from the front."

With that said Percy willed his undead mount onwards, the half rotten horse starting forwards, slowly at first, before it began to speed up, even as Percy drew his sword of ice, Riptide's hilt feeling comfortable and familiar in his hand, even if it didn't have the same warm glow to it that it once had, the shattered blade having now been replaced by replica one, which was made of magical ice.

Tightening his grip on his sword, Percy soon plunged through the undead horde, the reanimated corpses moving to make way for him as he charged the palisade, his breath coming out even and slow as he whipped his sword around, focusing on the ice around him as he did so.

In response to his actions the ice around him exploded outwards, massive spikes erupting forth from the frozen ocean and striking the palisade, smashing holes in the wooden walls as they did so and sending the defenders sprawling back, some of them clutching bloody wounds, either from shards of ice, or from large splinters of woods.

Percy though ignored all of this as he instead urged his undead horse onwards, smashing through the scrum of undead trying to force their way through the gaps as he instead paved the way, slashing through two Bear Island warriors, who were trying to plug one of the gaps with their shields, as he did so.

Of course by the time he did get through, the panicked Bear Islander's had already started to rally, with two of them shooting at Percy's horse, trying to dismount him, even as other raised their shield and created an impromptu shield wall just behind the now compromised palisade.

The northerners standing strong despite their fear, as dozens of reanimated wildlings forced their way through the gaps in the palisade, their numbers growing from dozens to nearly hundred as Percy swung his sword around, batting the two arrows away even as his army continued to grow behind him.

After which he swung his leg over his horse and dismounted, his heterochromatic eyes flicking over the spears he could see protruding from the shield wall, even as his undead army continued to swell, the palisade rupturing in a couple more places as over a thousand reanimated corpses tried to force their way through.

Twirling the sword in his hand, Percy felt his feet crunch on the ice encrusted rocky shore as he took a step forward, something which caused a slight smile to spread across his face as he looked up at the nervously shifting defenders.

"Hyah!" Percy shouted, a flash of jubilation flowing through him as he drew on his Demigod abilities, this one being his father's Domain over Earthquakes, an ability that his conversation into a White Walker hadn't corrupted.

Raising his foot, Percy's slammed it down on the rocky shore, the ground beneath him cracking and shattering, even as a shockwave erupted outwards from him, scattering both his own soldiers and Bear Island soldiers as he it did so.

The shockwave also causing the ground to shake as buildings within the town around Bear Island collapsed, even as the already damaged palisade broke apart into a pile of kindling, the shockwave spreading out as he did so, cracking the icy seas around him, for a moment, before the surprised looking Sylvanas froze it over again.

"Hah!" Percy then grunted as his foot shifted forwards and he twisted his free hand around, his expression twisting into a frown of concentration as he clenched his hand into a fist, after which he then thrust it forwards.

In response to which the ground around him exploded, rocks shooting out away from him and towards his enemies, like bullets, some of the rocks being the size of a fists, whilst others were the size of a man, and one or two were even the size of a fully grown warhorse. Either way they collided with the staggering and shaken shield wall, the rapidly moving, heavy projectiles smashing through the wall and felling dozens more, with some of the projectiles then continuing their paths through the shield wall and into the settlement behind it.

Something which caused a slight grimace to spread across Percy's face, before he pushed down his discomfort over killing these people, with him instead clinging onto the icy feeling within him instead, as he raised his sword and commanded his undead forces onwards, so that they could take advantage of the ruptured shield wall.

His hundreds of soldiers, some of whom were wearing rotting furs and carrying weapons made of bone, whilst others wore corroded iron armour and weapons of warped bronze, charged forwards at his command. Rapidly smashing into the disarrayed defenders of Bear Island as they did so, hacking and clawing at the living as they did so, their eyes glowing blue with endless fury as they scattered and butchered the defenders.

The now already broken shield wall shattering entirely now as men turned and fled, their inherent fear of the undead, mixed with Percy's own fel abilities and the ongoing slaughter, all proving to much, even for the hardy northerner's stubborn, hard-headed bravery.

Not that this helped them much as the undead horde was merciless and implacable, with more and more of them erupting out of the collapsed and broken palisade now, overtaking the docks and spreading into the settlement as they overran the shore and pushed ever onwards.

With Sylvanas herself entering the fray now, her bladed bow already stained with blood as she slashed away and slaughtered any living person stupid enough to get in her way, that or she drew her bow and cut down those that were still fleeing.

Seeing all of this, Percy could only watch on an empty feeling in his stomach as he heard the screams and shouts of the living spreading and increasing in volume, even as they were all ruthlessly butchered. The panicked terror rapidly spreading through the streets, along with the undead horde as they continued their indiscriminate slaughter, with the undead not caring about gender, age, status or wealth, as they just treated all equally, in that they gave them all a swift and brutal death.

Looking around, Percy telepathically commanded his undead mount to approach him, the half rotted horse trotting obediently over to Percy, unbothered by the carpet of bodies that littered the floor as it instead looked at him, its glowing blue eyes boring into him.

It was as he was doing this though, that a massive blonde, bearded, bear of a man, clad in what once must had been shining silver chainmail and fur, and wielding a large, bloodied great sword, broke through the undead in front of Percy and instead charged at one of the leaders of the undead army, with a roar. The man in question hacking and slashing through several undead warriors as he charged the armoured, pale skinned Percy, rightly recognising him as the leader.

With also likely concluding that by killing Percy, he would cause the undead army to collapse, as his necromantic power and will would no longer drive it onwards. Which again was also true, though Sylvanas was also capable of necromancy, and could likely hold at least remnants of the army together long enough to take the island.

"Bastard!" The man bellowed as he swung his sword at Percy, only for Percy's ice blade to whip up and block it, the man's castle forged steel blade shattering due to the aura of cold coming off Percy's blade.

With this confusing the man for a moment as he stared at it in shock, only for him to look down with a grunt as Percy grabbed him by his great, big, bushy beard and dragged him forward, his thin blade of ice piercing through the man's chest as Percy thrust it forward with full force, chainmail links bending and breaking, even as the man's blood froze in his body when it came in contact with Percy's blade.

Releasing the bearded man's beard, Percy twisted his blade and ripped it out of the corpse, watching coolly as the blonde man collapsed to the ground dead, after which Percy then turned to his mount that even now was still causally trotting over to him.

Patting the horse on its cold, frost coated neck, Percy grabbed the reins of his steed tightly, after which he swung himself round, and once again settled himself into the saddle, even as he looked around, his gaze saddened, but not regretful as he took in the surrounding carnage.

Shaking his head as he took it all in, he then looked away, and instead urged his horse onwards, heading for the large stone keep that towered over the settlement as he did so.

Already he could see that the keep's portcullis had been dropped and the large wooden doors barred shut, and that there were still obviously people inside the keep, that much was obvious as he could see that there were bowmen hidden behind the parapets of the keep's outer walls, futile raining down arrows on the rampaging undead below. Even as some of them charged forward and slammed into the stone walls that surrounded the keep and then began to uselessly scrabble against it, trying to find handholds that they could use to pull themselves up and over.

Percy could of course understand the defenders reasoning for closing the keep's portcullis and locking heavy wooden doors of the outer walls, but despite that he couldn't help but feel anger and disgust at the people inside, as he saw the still living people of Bear Island slamming into the wooden doors, desperately crying out to be let in, only to be slaughtered by the dead as they did so.

He knew it was hypocritical to feel pity for the living when he was the one ordering their slaughter, but he couldn't help it. He knew he had a duty to fulfil, but even so he felt conflicted over it, a feeling he had not had when he was back beyond the Wall, and in closer proximity to the Night King.

Already he was questioning just why he was doing this? He was a Demigod after all, he was the pinnacle of mortal power and ability. He was a born Hero, one who had led armies against the forces of Tartarus and faced down the very epitome of the Pit. Yet here he was, having become like the very enemy he had once fought against.

"The settlement is ours, the rest of the island will fall just as easily. All that really remains now is the southerner's stone house." Sylvanas said as she rode up next to Percy, her cold blue eyes locked on the keep, even as their undead soldiers finished purging the town of the living.

"We will crack the keep open like an egg then." Percy replied blandly, looking over at the hauntingly beautiful, white haired woman as he did so, before he then looked back at the keep. "After which we will take control of the island and consolidate our forces."

Sylvanas nodded at that. "Good, it will be nice to have a moment to rest, at least for a while."

Percy sent her an odd look at that. "Do we really need rest though?"

Sylvanas's lips curled upwards in amusement as she heard that. "Physically no, but I grow weary of fulfilling the Night King's plan day after day."

"But don't you still see him as your master?" Percy asked, interested now, as he ignored the slaughter going on around him, and instead had a calm discussion with his partner.

"I… I do still serve his will… but I find…" Sylvanas replied haltingly, looking to struggle with her wording for a moment, before she looked over at Percy with a frown. "I both want to serve him, yet I also don't… it is an odd feeling. I know his plan will bring order to this chaotic world, but I find myself disagreeing with parts of the plan…"

"Then why haven't you raised your concerns to him?" Percy asked, his gaze still locked on Sylvanas, easily ignoring the now much fainter whispers of the Night King in his head.

"Because I wasn't aware I had any until just recently." Sylvanas replied, with clear discomfort in her tone now, one of the first hints of genuine uncertainty and emotion that he had ever heard in her voice before, very different to her usual dark amusement and detached interest, before she then looked away and over at the keep. "This conversation is meaningless, we have a castle to besiege and an island to subdue."

"Of course." Percy replied dryly, as he too looked forward, a hint of amusement flashing through him, before the cold feeling of emptiness began to overtake him again and his amusement faded, his gaze instead settling upon the keep. His hands both raising in the air as he did so.

In response to which all the fallen bodies around him, both warriors and citizens began to stir, their bodies shaking for a moment, before their eyes' turned a glowing blue colour, after which they began to get up. Percy and Sylvanas's forces doubling in but a moment, even as more undead foot soldiers clawed their way out of the frozen ground, in graveyards all around the edges of the settlement.

( - )

(Inside of the Keep)

"My Lady we've lost the lower town!" Reinhart shouted as he ran over to the Lady Maege Mormont, his expression panicked, as he rushed over to where the older, weary looking woman was stood by one of the great hall's windows, a grim look on her face as she gripped the sword in her hand tighter.

"I can see that." Maege replied softly, even as she looked down and saw her subjects dying, her old heart breaking as she saw some of them begging and pleading to be allowed into the keep, only to be denied for the safety of the others inside, with these people being butchered soon after, begging and screaming for mercy as they did.

"This… this is a nightmare, some eldritch horror from the story books." Reinhart whispered behind her, as they saw the undead tearing through their home and butchering their people. "Whoever thought those fairy tales of old would actually be real!"

"This is no fairy tale." Maege said softly, her tone sounding almost broken, even as she looked over and saw how the unstoppable, implacable dead had now begun climbing over the wall. Even as one of the mounted, pale skinned beings rode forwards, his hands weaving through the air before he thrust them forward, the ground around him freezing over, even as a massive spire of rock erupted from ground, directly underneath the gatehouse.

The walls rupturing before exploding upwards as the spire tore through it, chunks of rock falling amongst the horde of undead soldiers outside, and within the courtyard. Not that the legion of the dead seemed to care as they instead just flooded through the broken walls, ripping and tearing any living being they found to pieces, easily overcoming the warriors of Bear Island's impromptu defences as they did so.

"What can mere humans do against such cold, cruel evil? How can we stand against such reckless, all consuming hatred?" Maege asked softly as she saw the courtyard swiftly overwhelmed even as the two riders rode in, both of them dismounting as they did so, before they then entered the fray, cutting through anybody who stood against them.

"My lady, they're in the keep!" Lars shouted as he ran into the great hall, a dozen armed and armoured men following after him, along with Maege's youngest daughter, Lyanna, and her nursemaid. With some of the men turning and dragging tables and chairs in front of the door, blockading it, even as they heard the sounds of shouting, screaming and fighting coming from outside of the great hall, and within the keep itself.

"W-what how?" Reinhart asked shakily, his hands quaking as he looked down and saw the male White Walker walk forward and shatter the portcullis, freezing it solid as he did, which caused the iron structure to shatter outwards.

After which the heavy wooden doors followed, with the undead then surging inside, where battle was once again joined between the living and the undead, led by the two White Walkers, both of whom were now at the forefront of the legion of the dead, fighting like the devils they were.

"They came up from the crypts beneath the keep, there were hundreds of them, and they overwhelmed the kitchens and the barracks first, and then spread throughout the rest of the keep. We tried to hold them back, but they survived being, stabbed, beaten cut in half and dismembered, you can only kill the damn things by burning them, that or by caving their heads in." Lars replied, his breathing heavy now as he looked to his Lady.

Knowing from his recent experience just how difficult they were to kill, in fact it had taken him throwing a lit torch at them to make them back off. With the fire quickly consuming scores of them, as it ate away at their dry, dusty bones and rotting clothing, the narrow stone corridors within the keep channelling the fire so it did the most damage, even if said damage was uncontrolled, and had ended up cutting Lars and his group off from the rest of the defenders.

"They've broken through the front doors too!" Reinhart shouted in response, his tone almost hysterical now as looked around at the other people in the room. "There's no escape, what in hells are we going to do?!"

"Keep it together man! Now come on, we need to barricade the doors!" Lars snapped, as he glared at the waste of space Reinhart, before looking back at Maege. "My lady, I fear our only hope is to wait it out."

"By the Gods man, there is no point in lying." Reinhart shouted in panic, his eyes wide and terrified as he did so. "There is no way out of this, there is no escape, and this will be our end."

"Then we will make it such an end that it is worthy of remembrance!" Maege replied fiercely as she turned away from the window and look around the room, her gaze flickering to her terrified looking daughter, Lyanna, for a moment in regret. Sad that her youngest would die here with her, but also glad that her eldest, Dacey, was not here to share their fate. She may die this day, but House Mormont would endure. "Now ready yourselves, for we will not go silently into the night, nor will we go with a whimper, instead we will charge in, a sword in our hand and a war cry on our lips!"

"You heard my Lady!" Lars bellowed, a fierce grin on his face now as he looked over at the others, even as the barricaded doors began to shake, and the screams and sounds of battle faded. "We might be fucked, but we're not going to go down without a fight! Now let's show them what the words 'Here we stand' mean!"

The dozen or so warriors in the room all roared at that, even as the barricaded door exploded outwards, shards and spikes of ice erupting out of it as it did so, after which the two black armoured White Walkers entered the hall, with dozens of undead monstrosities surging in after them.

"Now come on, let's show them what it means to fight the warriors of Bear Island!" Lars roared before he charged forward, the other men following after him, charging into certain doom, with Maege moving Lyanna behind her, even as she raised her sword, more than prepared to die protecting her daughter.

Within moments the battle was joined as the undead flooded forward, killing half of the men in the first few moments, through sheer numbers as they ripped them to pieces. The others fell soon after as the two White Walkers darted forward, their weapons whipping through the air, cutting down the defenders with ease.

With both Percy and Sylvanas moving in sync as Percy lashed out with his sword, his movements swift and accurate, as he strode forwards, batting aside slashes and stabs, and then lunging forward into the gaps in their defences with blistering speed. His style of fighting quick and efficient, as he brought his immense skill with a blade to bear, and then combined it with his heightened physical attributes.

Sylvanas however was far more brutal and acrobatic as she leapt forward, practically dancing through the enemy. The bladed ends of her bow moving swiftly through the air as she slashed away at the surrounding men with sheer, overwhelming ferocity.

"You fucker!" Lars roared as he bullrushed Percy, his sword lowered as he did so, with him being under no illusions that he would survive this day. Though that was not to say that he would not make the undead scum pay a hefty price for his life first.

Twisting his head to see the giant of a man charging him, Percy raised his hand, forming a spear of ice in front of his palm as he did so.

However before he could unleash it, Lars was intercepted by another hulking figure, this one being an armoured, reanimated Bear Island soldier clad in mail and furs, one who smashed Lars clear off of his feet, before he began clawing at his face.

"Hef!" Lars shouted, as he thrust his head forwards, head-butting his dead battle brother in the head as he did so, before he rolled away, making it to his feet as he did so, only to find his friend charging him again. "Not you too!"

Hef though wasn't capable of speech as he instead charged Lars again, heedless of the man's giant sword, or of the sorrow and heartbreak in his eyes. With Hef instead being driven on by the will of his Master, to destroy!

"Hyah!" Lars bellowed as he swung his sword round, the blade smashing Hef in the head taking the man's head off, which succeeded in killing his friend for the second time, but which didn't stop the large man's momentum, as his now headless body cannoned into Lars, knocking him off his feet and onto the ground, where he swiftly became prey for the other undead in the room, several of whom leapt upon him, hacking him to pieces with their weapons whilst he was down.

Ignoring this Percy instead allowed the spear of ice to disperse, as his gaze instead landed on the Lady Maege, who despite her terror was still standing in front of her daughter, her sword raised and held in quaking hands as she prepared to defend the young, dark haired girl with her life.

( - )

(With Zoe, in Winterfell)

Riding into the courtyard of Winterfell, Zoe barely glanced around at the busy, bustling yard, and the scores of stable hands, servants and men at arms, that were running about, shoeing horses, bundling up weapons, packing up wagons with foods and sheaths of arrows, and just general going about their duties as they prepared for the upcoming war.

Yes, Zoe ignored all of that as she and her companions entered the courtyard, the striking, dark haired woman sliding off her horse with practiced ease before she handed the reins over to a stable hand, not even looking at him as her gaze was instead locked on a large balcony that overlooked the courtyard.

It was a balcony that she often remembered her Uncle standing on as he looked down proudly upon his son's and her own training. Now however the man standing on the balcony overlooking the organised chaos that was the courtyard, was not the dark haired, grim faced, grey eyed Eddard Stark. But was instead his auburn haired, blue eyed son Robb, a far softer boy than his father, an unseasoned child of summer if ever there was one.

With the nineteen year old boy in question standing amongst a group of his generally older advisors, all of whom were wearing heavy dark coloured, fur cloaks, over the top of chainmail, or plate amour, as they watched the ongoing preparations for the journey south, and the upcoming campaign against the new King, Joffrey Baratheon, or Waters, depending on who you believe, and his Lannister supporters.

Making eye contact with Robb, Zoe could see the younger boy flinch as her dark eyes locked on him, before he started to move, even as Zoe strode inside. The soldiers, courtiers and servants all moving swiftly out of her way as they saw the 'fuck off' expression on her face.

Already Azshara, or rather Zoe, had gained somewhat of a contradictory reputation in the North. As she was known for being fiercely loyal to her people, and generous to the smallfolk around her. On top of which she was known to be incredibly intelligent and knowledgeable, which made even the most dismissive and bigoted of Lords take note when she spoke.

However on top of that, she was also known for being absolutely brutal and without mercy to those that broke the laws of the land, especially those who harmed women and children, with death being a mercy for the ones she laid her hands on. On top of which she was known as a ferociously skilled fighter and archer, despite her gender, and had somewhat of a reputation, for having a terrifying temper when angered.

And at the moment she looked angry, hence why people got out of her way as she passed, as none wanted to bear the brunt of her temper, and her terrifyingly sharp tongue.

"Cousin." Robb said calmly as he met Zoe in the great hall of Winterfell a few minutes later, his advisers still present, but standing a respectful distance away as Robb greeted his cousin.

Zoe didn't batter an eyelash at Robb's greeting though as she entered, her companions following after her, before they then moved off to onside behind her, her friend Dacey grinning slightly in anticipation of what she knew was to come.

"You gods damned idiot!" Zoe said swiftly as she approached Robb, her hand whipping out and gripping the taller boy by the ear before she pulled him down towards her, so she was looking him dead in the eye.

With her ignoring the inappropriateness of her actions, as although Robb might be the son of the Lord Regent of Winterfell, she was the Lady of Winterfell, the only daughter of Ned Stark's older brother Brandon, and so outranked him and any other noble in the North. On top of which she knew she was more than capable of crushing every man present in single combat if she were minded to, and knew, that despite their grumbling and groaning about it, that all of these men present knew it.

"What the hell do you think you were doing, calling the banners!?" Zoe demanded as she released Robb, though only after she heard his cry of anguish. The former Huntress ignoring the disapproving mutters of Robb's advisers as she instead grabbed Robb by the front of his leather jerkin, nearly lifting him off the ground with just one hand as she did so.

With her soul having not been the only part of her that had been reincarnated into this world, as apparently her body had too, minus the immortality. After all she may no longer have her Lady Artemis's Blessing, but she was still a former Hesperide, and the Child of Atlas the Titan of Strength and Endurance. Which in itself came with perks, such as her having strength and durability that would match even Hercules's, which when combing with her thousands of year of experience and muscle memory, made her a force to be reckoned with, especially in a world where the gods were very much hands off, and there weren't any monsters or Demigods roaming about.

Again, she wasn't entirely sure why she had been reincarnated into a new world, nor why she had been allowed to keep both her memories and her old abilities, but she was not going to complain about it either. After all she was once again alive, and would therefore make the best of her situation, even if that meant beating some sense into her younger cousin.

"The Lannisters, they killed my father, they tried to kill my brother…" Robb gasped out, as he met his cousin's dark gaze, his former bravado and confidence wilting in the face of her fierce eyes, and the sheer depth and ferocity they held. "We can't let that stand, the honour of the North…"

"Yes I've heard that much." Zoe replied sharply, before she released him, her eyes flickering over to the other Lords, some of whom met her gaze stoically, whilst others flinched slightly, or shifted uncomfortably. "But there a ways of doing these things."

Robb frowned in confusion at that.

"For one preparing your forces and food supply in advance of declaring war. That and forming alliances beyond the North, as the Lannisters have a lot of enemies. Stannis and Renly being just two examples, after all if news of Joffrey's… legitimacy reached me in the far North I presume it will of reached them too." Zoe retorted, before she breezed past Robb, her gaze flicking over a cluster of maps on the great hall before it then shifted over to the truculent Lords, recognising Lord Karstark, Lord Umber, Lord Bolton and a half dozen lesser Lords in their number.

These were obviously the first ones to answer the call, and she was sure many more would follow.

"Now see here you, we've already taken…" Roose Bolton began, his tone cold and stiff as he glared at Zoe hatefully.

"No you listen Bolton." Zoe snapped as she turned on the pale skinned, dead eyed Lord, "I've already killed your Bastard son, Ramsey, for rape and murder, don't force me to smash your teeth in too!"

It was a harsh response, far harsher than the unpleasant man probably deserved, but Zoe was still angry at him, after all she suspected he knew far more about his Bastard son's crimes than he let on. He was just lucky that she had let her fury get the best of her, and had killed Ramsey, before he was interrogated. That and she didn't like his attitude, or any of the rumours that surrounded him and his foul Household.

Still she had said what she had, and by the look of hate the man sent her, he didn't appreciate it. Though thankfully some of the other Lords looked somewhat amused by her outburst, with Lord Bolton's general unpopularity playing into her hands this time.

"Zoe! Show some respect." Robb called out from behind her, trying to rein his head strong cousin in before she caused trouble as he did so.

Zoe stiffened at that, before she shot the mentally much younger Robb a look that, making him flinch. "I believe Robb, that it is time I took up my father's seat. Now that Uncle Eddard has passed, and I am of age, I no longer believe I need a Regent."

Robb flinched at that, knowing as he did what those words meant, after all Zoe was the eldest child of former Lord of House Stark, and the daughter of Eddard's older brother, Brandon, and so had the right to rule. With Eddard having only become Regent due to Zoe's age, and partially due to her gender.

Now she was of age though, and a recognised warrior, and leader, well there was no longer any justification for their needing to be a Regent, especially with Eddard having passed, and the next option being the younger, untested Robb.

"Now you two, I don't think now is the time for this!" Lord Karstark spoke up uncomfortably, looking between the two family members as he did so.

"You're right, so I will now be taking up the full duties of Lady Stark, and will be taking control of the North." Zoe retorted sharply, daring Robb to challenge her, not that she thought he would. Robb was a decent fighter, and a mostly decent man, but he knew his limitations, and knew Zoe was both smarter and more skilled than him.

"But my sisters?" Robb muttered.

"Yes I heard about my cousins, Sansa and Arya too, and I will see to it that we get them back." Zoe replied, her tone softening slightly as she did so.

Robb nodded at that.

"Now send another missive out, gather the rest of the Lords I want them here as soon they can." Zoe spoke up again, looking to one of the servants in the room as she did so. "Now that the banners have been called, the King's Spymaster will know what we plan, and will have told that brat Joffrey and his adviser. We have no option now, but to make the best of the situation."

The servant nodded as he heard that, before he turned and ran out of the room, looking to send another missive out to the Lord's hurry them.

"Now as for the rest of you, I believe we have extensive plans to make for the future." Zoe continued as she turned to the rest of the Lord's, her confidence unwavering, which cowed some of those present. Whilst others looked to Robb before nodding in acknowledge, the line of succession was clear, Zoe had the strongest claim to the Lordship of House Stark, especially now she was of age.

In fact only Lord Bolton look particularly unhappy, though it was hard to tell as that arsehole constantly looked miserable.

( - )

AN: So what do you all think? I hope you enjoyed it, and the lovely little cliffhanger I added in before the New Year!

But yeah so I hope you all enjoyed the chapter and leave a review. I've not really got much to say about what's happening so much as I have big plans in place, and there is going to be a lot of stuff happening, both canon events initially, and my own events, which will obviously for the most part involve the characters I have added into the story, and the characters from the GoT universe that I have edited to my liking.

So yeah, I hope you all leave a review and have a good Christmas and New Year.

Thanks for reading.

Greed720.