It was the next day and Tigre woke up early in a surprising turn of events. Looking around he saw Tita sleeping on top of him with a content smile, last night there was no room vacant for Tita. She could have at most shared a room with the soldiers but that was something Tigre strongly denied.

He had comanded armies before, leaving a young girl, even a child as Tita is right now, to be sleep with soldiers was not acceptable. To solve that Tigre proposed for Tita to sleep in his room with him, there was much complaining by most but Tita was happy with the idea and Tigre was the one to propose so it was accepted in the end.

"Tita, it is time to wake up." He said to the girl who was supposed to be sleeping beside him, not hugging him like a koala.

"Five more minutes." She mumbled, she was quite tired from the travel and Tigre's body was hot enough that snuggling up to it felt good.

Sighing, Tigre let her have her way. No point in fighting her over it.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I am so sorry." Tita said as she walked beside Tigre. She was dressed as his maid and him with simple clothing that was reminiscent of the clothes he wore in his previous life, meaning a green tunic, brown trousers, and dark shoes. His knights complained that it should have been the white and blue of house Arryn or have some symbol of it but Tigre didn't want that. He already had to wear those colors too much and there is no need to act like a peacock like that. Just using clothes that feel comfortable would make more sense.

"No need to worry about it Tita." Tigre said. "Everyone oversleeps every once in a while."

"B-But sleeping more than you, as far as I know, it might even be two days since we arrived here!" She said and Tigre sweatdropped.

"You are overstating it, we just slept a bit more than usual." Tigre said and finally, Tita let it down.

After that, they could hear the sound of grunts of effort and with some curiosity, both kids went to look for it. There they found the training grounds, in it, there was Ludmila fighting with a staff against her brother Rob and another boy who had the classic Stark features, even more than Robb did with his black hair and grey eyes. The two boys were clearly used to fighting alongside one another, but against Ludmila they couldn't hope for much. The simple fact was that she had an entire lifetime's worth of combat experience to draw from. But for all her admittedly unfair advantage, they were handling themselves well.

The black haired boy swung downwards towards her left leg with his training sword, attempting to knock her off balance as Robb went for a blow at her midsection, no doubt hoping to drive the wind form her lungs. However, Ludmila saw through the attempt and lifted her leg up and out of the way of the black haired boy's attack even as she blocked Robb's strike. She responded by pushing Robb's sword off her staff before she lunged forward, driving the tip into the unnamed boy's stomach, knocking him back with a pained grunt as he went to clutch his now injured stomach, even as Ludmila moved to take Robb down. Robb fared well against his sister, but she kept up a near relentless flurry of blows that Robb had to devote all his attention to blocking and deflecting, leaving no time for him to counter-attack.

The fight ended when she caught the back of his right hand, causing him to lose his grip on his training weapon. Another strike knocked it from his grip before he could react, and a third strike swept his legs out from under him. Before he could move to stand again, she planted one foot on his chest and pointed one end of the staff at his chin. Robb panted hard from exertion, before he laughed lightly and held up his hands in surrender. Seeing this, Ludmila smiled, removed her foot and staff, and reached a hand out. Robb took hold of it and used it to hoist himself up.

"You both did well, and you're getting better." She calmly stated as she looked from Robb to the black haired boy, who had recovered sufficiently. She smiled warmly at the two of them. She noticed Tigre and Titta walking towards them. The black haired boy had noticed too and had started to walk away, but Ludmila was quick. She quickly snapped a hand out and caught him by the back of his shirt. "No." She stated firmly. "You are going to introduce yourself." The boy had started to open his mouth to say something when she continued speaking, denying him a chance to say something. "And before you say that Lady Stark wouldn't want that, I do want you to do so. You are a part of this family regardless of who your mother is. Robb knows it, Arya knows it, Bran knows it, I know it, and Father knows it." She stated, her voice becoming as hard and strong as Valyrian steel.

With that finished, she pulled him forward and all but planted him in front of Tigre and Titta, who waited patiently for him to speak. "Greeting milord and lady." The boy began shyly and stiffly. "My name is Jon Snow, Bastard of Ned Stark of Winterfell, and half-sibling of Rob Stark and Ludmila." The now named Jon Snow introduced himself. Tigre noted that Ludmila had narrowed her eyes at Jon when he called himself a bastard.

"Don't refer to yourself at that, Jon!" Ludmila hadn't taken his introduction well, grabbing him and spinning him around to face her. Her gray eyes stabbed into his own as she let herself speak. "You are family! Don't ever let what my mother say get to you like that! You are as much a Stark as the rest of us, perhaps not in name but you are of Father's blood! You are a direwolf and I will not let you deride yourself like this because Catelyn hate your mother!" She ranted powerfully at her half brother. Jon had widened his eyes as she spoke, stunned to hear her speak like this to him.

"She's right Jon. I consider you a brother no matter which mother you were born from." Robb had walked up and placed a hand comfortingly on Jon's shoulder. It was because of this that Robb could feel Jon shake lightly under his grip as the boy worked to compose himself.

"T-thank you." Jon managed to croak out, happiness coating his words as he looked at his siblings.

"You don't need to thank me for speaking the truth, Jon." Ludmila spoke, her tone much softer now. She had finally managed to get through all that self-loathing that had been building up in him for as long as Jon had been old enough to comprehend what a bastard was. As much as she loved her mother, she despised that the woman was so harsh on Jon for something that he had no control over. He didn't choose to be born, to be taken north by their Father, to be raised with the rest of his half-siblings. "You. Are. Family. And don't ever see yourself as anything else." Jon smiled at her, nodding in agreement. With that out of the way, her gaze flicked over to Tigre, a smile of a different kind forming on her face. "Now, Tigrevurmund. I would hope you are willing to spar with me."

Tigre gulped lightly, already seeing that he would get no support from either of her brothers, even as Ludmila started spinning her training spear lightly in hand. With a shaky smile he accepted her challenge and took out a sword. Ludmila raised an eyebrow before both started the spar.

On the sidelines, John and Rob could only stare in wonder. Partially because of how well both are fighting, and in a bigger part as a pure shock at how much of Ludmila's beating them was her going easy. It was a blow to their self-esteem.

"... I suddenly feel very improper as the Stark heir." Rob told John who glanced at him quickly but never really stopping to look at the fight.

Tigre's movements were agreesive and powerful, Mila's were graceful but more vicious in her execution. The two were practically dancing already and it surprised Robb and John that Tigre didn't go easy on Ludmila on the start at all.

Of course, Tigre wouldn't dare do such a thing. First because he knew that it would be an insult to her if he were to do such a thing against the Vanadis who was known for being the most arrogant of them all. But, most importantly, was that he knew Mila was strong.

He had fought shoulder to shoulder with her and fought against her as well, he knew her well and knew that she was still not going all out even if he were doing so. She had room to spare.

'I guess I still can't beat a Vanadis even if I copy them.' Tigre thought in his head but instead of dejected he felt good inside. That meant to him that he had someone who he knew he could trust behind him, something he felt he would need when it was time to face the White Walkers.

Meanwhile from the corner of the training ground came both Sofya and Elizaveta, both were talking happily with each other about foreign policies and how they would go about improving the Seven Kingdoms in a diplomatic way beyond just marrying one another. However, upon arriving at the training ground and seeing the duel both stopped to watch at the 'show'. After a moment, both of them grinned in excitement, both of them surging forward, Elizaveta acquiring a whip in one hand and a sword in the other, Sofya took a staff and both went forward, neither hesitated in attacking the two sparing fighters who reacted just as well.

None complained as they knew that in war there was hardly a chance for a simple duel and both Tigre and Ludmila were already used to keeping vigilance on their surroundings when in a fight. Quickly thereafter it turned from a duel to a free for all where sometimes it was 2 VS 2, each one for themselves, or even everyone against one. On the balcony Arya watched all this with Bran, their eyes shining with excitement and wonder. However, on another point of the balcony, Catelyn Stark was horrified at this.

To see young ladies fighting in such brutish manners, all attacks clearly capable of killing, was more than her lady teachings could take. Not only that, she could see how her daughter who had so much potential to be a great lady was wasting it away by fighting like that. It was bad enough she does that when it was only them around, but doing this in front of other great houses, and even challenging one of them to a duel? Does her daughter now know that this might ruin her chances of becoming a lady? That she might be throwing away the chance of being the mother of future lords of some great house like the Tyrell or some other house of the south? There was no need for her daughter to be in somewhere she could not shine in high society.

Of course, Ludmila would at most laugh at her mother's stupid concepts and ideas for her future. Ludmila was someone who would do what was necessary for her people and her obligations, true, but being like the southern ladies that were little more than breeding mares was something Ludmila would never accept. She would much rather go to Essos, create a mercenary company, and if the North ever needs her she'd sail back with 30.000 men, at the very least, behind her to kill the enemies of the North.

On the ground, the four fighting were bringing quite a bit of attention from the soldiers. Before long Robb and John decided that enough was enough and both took out their swords and joined the fray, it was a mess and in the end they all fell to the ground at least twice, but a certain friendship was formed from this even if Tigre and the girls still didn't quite see John and Rob as friends. They were much older internally, having lived and done much more even if they all were 20 years old or younger in their previous life, but some respect was still created in both sides at the tenacity they all had.

Later they would talk more, none of them would care about most things like etiquette right now as they openly talked and Rob absorbed quite a bit of knowledge about the administration of the lands, diplomacy, and warfare from the four much more experienced, even if physically younger, kids. Jon, for his part, also learned quite a bit and this experience opened his eyes to a wider world than just the north, even if it was still not that great a difference.

This mood would continue, this little group would grow closer together for the next few months as the war progressed. During this time another strange thing that happened was that the Stark children, excluding Sansa who listened too much to her mother, had come to know Tyrion Lannister more, they would come to know how he really was and that not all Lanisters are monsters. Tyrion, by his part, would teach the kids all about some interesting things of history and other matters, even replacing maester Luwin in teaching them history and math as Tyrion was better at teaching the children. He also offered to help the Starks in a project for waste disposal, something he was knowledgeable about from Lanisport, and showing how to even use the waste to improve the lands as fertilizer.

The project didn't go that well, the lack of workers due to the war and the fact that Catelyn would go against most of everything he proposed out of sheer spite made the project not show as many results, but it still improved the quality of life for Winterfell.

And so things progressed, until a piece of news came.

The Grayjoy Rebellion ended, all Greyjoy were killed in combat with Balon, Victarion, and Aeron killed in battle by Roland Baratheon during the invasion of Pike and the only Greyjoy's left alive are a girl that was given as a ward to house Harlaw who was proclaimed as new house Paramount of the Iron Island, Euron who escaped without an eye that was cut out by Ned Stark in combat, and Theon Greyjoy who was to be a ward to Ned Stark. Other wards were taken to be raised in the seven kingdoms and that included the daughter of House Harlaw and many other houses of the Iron Island.

The king also sent a proclamation, a tourney was to be held in the Reach in four months to commemorate the victory, the king also ordered for as many noblemen and ladies to come as he wants to show them the heads of all the Greyjoy in spikes.

The Reach, Horn Hill

"Did you hear? The king will host a new tourney right here on the Reach!"

"Yeah, that will be quite interesting. I wonder if I can find some dashing knight for me there."

"No way, they'd be looking at me."

Such were regular conversations on the castle of Horn Hill amongst the maids and servants, not that it mattered to the pair training in the yard. One was a boy of about 11 years old, he had some good abilities with his sword but was losing badly against his opponent that was simply better despite being younger than him.

As the boy was finally put on the ground he groaned and spoke up.

"Why are you so good at this? Did you drain all the warrior and the courage out of our brother Sam when you two were born?" The boy complained as his opponent just looked at him with a glare too reminiscent to their father for the boy not to recognize it. He instantly shut up and became submissive.

"... Our brother might never become a warrior but that does not mean he cannot be brave in his own way. You should understand that being a lord is more than swing a sword around, otherwise, you will have to obey whoever you marry and I don't want you to be known as the second oaf of the Reach. One Mace Tyrrel is more than enough."

"Okay, okay, I will listen to you Lim." Dickon said exhausted. "Anyway, are you looking forward to the tournament?"

"Why should I?" She said coldly. "There are already too many tournaments in the Reach, a waste of time and money if you ask me. The resources could be better spent on improving the farming and obtaining new techniques to improve these lands as well as arm ourselves better."

Sighing Dickon chose not to argue. Personally he liked tournaments, but he knew what his sister thought of them and he might not be the smartest Tarly to ever live but he knew to not cross this sister two yours his junior, she scared him almost as much as their father.

Limalisha Tarly was born with their mother's body and beauty with all the stern stuff that made their father one of the fiercest generals in all of Westeros, Dickon more than once heard his father complain that she should have been born a boy as, this way, he could have made her his heir. It stung his pride, true, but he understood that Limalisha was a better fit for the position.

Oh well, nothing to be done now. He just stood up and started sparing with her again, on the corner of the training ground Samwell was looking at the two with some longing for the capacity to fight but he knew it was not to be. But, Samwell also knew that he could be useful in other areas so, thanks to some directions from Limalisha, he started studying about land management. His goal in life was to be Dickon's assistant in running the lands. He would not be able to do much in war, true, but he would do his best where he can.

Of course, to Randal Tarly that still was no good and he continued to despise this son of his.

In Dorne, or to be more precise in Sunspear, Oberyn Martel was reading about the tournament in the Reach. He had been troubled for a while now thanks to worry from his brother about the king finding out their secret, but this was a chance as far as Oberyn was concerned. If everything went according to plan this would finally end their worries and this tournament where the realm's nobles would gather was a perfect chance to ensure the fat fool would not be able to do a thing.

The Lannisters would continue being a nuisance, true, but it would be better to have only the Lannisters as opponents instead of the whole realm from the get-go. With a plan in mind, he called for who was important. He had a travel to make right now and a king to probably piss off.

"Well, it would be interesting to do that and I bet my dear niece would like to see those who will compete with her to the throne. Besides, Elleonora does seem interested in this heir to the Vale even already proclaiming him as hers, that would be fun. She is half-dornish alright."