At the Red Keep's Great Hall…
Sansa Stark ran through the halls of the Red Keep, searching from room to room. She had just received word of Balon Greyjoy's rebellion… and news of King Daveth Baratheon's "eruption", the Wolf Queen's heart pounded in fear and worry for her husband. Sansa held up the front end of her dress to avoid tripping herself; her new attire was a black dress with a subtle texture resembling tree bark adorned with rows of raven feathers around the best of her dress and sleeve cuffs and wore a chain pendant necklace along with two silver penchants entailing both the sigils of House Stark and House Baratheon. And around her arm Sansa carried a light blue silk flowing in the breeze as she ran.
Exhausted from her search, Sansa soon found Daveth standing over a detailed map of Westeros painted onto the floor, speaking with three of his Kingsguard knights Lord Commander Ser Barristan Selmy, Ser Lucius Blackmyre and Ser Jaime Lannister along with soldiers of the Baratheon and Lannister garrison. King Daveth was already in full armor and his Valyrian sword Stormbringer was at his side.
"With Moat Cailin under ironborn occupation, our allies in the North are unable to march south of the Neck nor are they able to turn back," Ser Barristan examined the map beneath his feet. "With any luck, Lord Stannis should be arriving at any moment."
"Provided of course that he's received your message, Your Grace," Ser Lucius gave a small hum. "Randyll might be Master of Ships, but most of the Royal Fleet is still loyal to your uncle. Do you think they'll listen?"
Daveth scoffed. "The captains are well-aware of what'll happen if they don't. Even Stannis himself knows that. What of our forces here?"
"Our men in King's Landing are ready for the march to lift the occupation at Moat Cailin," Jaime chimed in. "While that's going on, our troops stationed in the Westerlands will take the Lannister Fleet and sail up the western coast with the Redwyne Fleet to harass the Greyjoy fleet."
"With any luck, our naval forces should keep the ironborn distracted long enough for us on the mainland to rendezvous at Seagard and begin the eventual invasion of the Iron Islands," the Young Stag theorized.
Sansa felt winded as she stopped to catch her breath. "My King," she finally spoke up.
Daveth turned to see his wife bearing a worried look on her face.
"Your Grace," the Kingsguard greeted.
The King himself simply stood motionless before returning his gaze to the Kingsguard and his soldiers.
"Give me a moment to speak with my wife," he ordered. "Have the men ready to march. We ride at nightfall."
All bowed their heads in acknowledgement and left the Red Keep to gather the troops necessary for the war against the Iron Islands. Once the Kingsguard and Baratheon and Lannister soldiers were absent, Daveth was left alone with Sansa.
"What is it, Sansa? I'm a little busy here," Daveth began. His voice was slightly irritated.
Sansa flinched slightly. "Lord Tyrion informed me you plan to take to the field. Please tell me what your uncle said is not true. Please tell me that you are not seriously planning on going with them…" she beseeched.
"I am. What of it?"
The Wolf Queen swore she felt her heart sink. Her husband had already informed her of what had occurred at Lannisport with the ironborn during their courtship, but Sansa was not aware of how deep his hatred for the ironborn was. She feared for his safety when the King eventually leaves to fight on the battlefield, of course, but Sansa is more worried about his mental state as well. Daveth was starting to show subtle signs that he was walking a thin moral line when the topic of House Greyjoy and ironborn came up; but should the noble Oathkeeper ever decide to cross the line… he would be lost to his inner demons.
"Daveth," Sansa spoke softly as she tried to pick her words cautiously, "please reconsider. Do not do this. The last time you rode off to battle, you almost lost an eye as well as your life. You could have gotten yourself killed. Let someone else take charge and handle Lord Balon's uprising. Please stay here in the capital with me. Don't leave me again."
The Young Stag hadn't forgotten the Battle of Blackwater Bay, where he received his noticeable scar from Loras Tyrell's blade—and the casualties that came with it. Daveth symbolized his own wounds as a way of accepting the path he has taken and his resolve to push forward as long as he possibly could. Regardless, Daveth refused to be swayed.
"You would have me sit here and do nothing then? Do nothing and allow such treason to go unpunished?"
Sansa shook her head. "No, husband. I know Balon must be punished for his crimes, but my heart aches at the thought of you being hurt or worse," she reached her hand and placed a gentle palm on Daveth's shoulders. "Which is why I am asking you, please find it in your heart and do me this kindness. Don't go. Please."
Daveth looked at Sansa. She was on the verge of dropping to her knees as her lower lip trembled slightly. The more Sansa heard of Daveth's determination of fighting on the battlefield again, the discontent she felt. Normally on his regular days the Young Stag would hold his wife close and tell her everything is going to be all right, that all would be right as rain; but this was a time of war. No matter how much he might want to, Daveth couldn't afford to be distracted. Sighing, he slowly pried himself off of her.
"Your sweet words move me, Sansa," Daveth firmly told her. "But my decision is final. I'm going, and I will have my due. On that, you have my word."
Now certain of his answer, Sansa reluctantly released her grip on Daveth and lowered her head in defeat. No matter how many times she pleaded, or even cried, her husband would not budge an inch. Not even for her. Not when the Greyjoys are in open rebellion for the second time. Daveth didn't like saying no to Sansa, but his vendetta against House Greyjoy and the ironborn seemingly outweighed that. Perhaps when this is all over, he'll apologize to her; seems about fair. But before Daveth could even leave the Red Keep, Sansa called out to him again.
"Daveth, wait!"
Daveth turned to watch Sansa approaching him, unravelling the blue silk as she begun to wrap it around his neck. He initially raised an eyebrow in curiosity, but the Young Stag was able to recognize the blue silk: it was the same scarf Sansa gave him during the Hand's Tourney two years ago, but more defined and elegant! Once Sansa was done wrapping the scarf around Daveth's neck, she took a brief moment to look at him. Still upset, but did her duty as his wife regardless.
"If you are certain in your decision," she said, "then come back home to me."
Daveth gave a small nod. "Then wait for me, little dove," he answered her. "Wait for me, and I will return to you."
Sansa bit her lip as she watched Daveth leave the Red Keep, lowering her head as she turned to walk back inside. The King, meanwhile, was on his way to catch up with his soldiers when Robb and Catelyn Stark arrived in King's Landing along with most of the Northern troops and approached him directly.
"Your Grace," greeted Catelyn.
"Daveth," greeted Robb.
Daveth gave a curt nod. "Somehow I knew you would find your way here," he said.
Robb was a bit disturbed by his friend/brother-in-law's tone, but ignored it.
"My apologies for not sending word sooner," the Young Wolf stated, "but I've come to petition the use of your ships."
Catelyn chimed in. "We know of the situation with the ironborn, with Balon Greyjoy. With Moat Cailin under their control Robb and his men cannot move north past the Neck. With your blessing, we would like to borrow the use of your ships."
Robb took a moment to explain. "I need them to transport my men stationed here towards the nearest port, White Harbor."
"I'm well aware of your situation, Robb. I'm aware that you are in need my ships so you and your men could go home. But I do find it rather odd to not see Theon with you. You do remember the condition that was made years ago should the traitor Balon Greyjoy try anything again, don't you?"
"Theon isn't like his father!" Robb started to raise his voice. He hadn't meant to, but that was certain to arouse suspicion. "Daveth, we can talk about this another time. Now is not the appropriate time for debate. I did not come here to argue with you. For the sake of our friendship, I need your help."
"Robb is your brother by law," Catelyn reminded the King. "Our two houses have always been close and are now bound by blood. Please, Your Grace, we would not ask you for anything unless it was of utmost importance."
Daveth looked at Robb and Catelyn, saying nothing. There was a brief moment of pause. What felt like an hour had passed before Daveth raised a hand and pointed towards the harbor. Robb, Catelyn and the other Northmen turned to see several ships arriving near the docks.
"I'll have the Royal Fleet will move you and your men to White Harbor; 200 ships, plus an additional 28 vessels to provide support by sea. Gather what resources you have and climb onboard. Lord Stannis will be expecting you."
"We won't forget this, lad," Greatjon Umber bellowed rambunctiously.
Rickard Karstark nodded in agreement. "The North remembers."
"The North remembers," the others echoed.
Robb and his bannermen have begun marching their soldiers and supply line through the streets of King's Landing, with several onlookers watching them in awe and amazement. Before the last Northmen left, Daveth turned to Catelyn.
"While we are off to war, I would like you to remain in the Red Keep with Sansa," Daveth asked her. "She needs you now more than ever."
Catelyn dismounted and looked at her son-in-law. "Both my late husband and your father rode off to war twice. Once was against the Mad King, the other against the same man you now seek to put down. And now you're making my daughter go through that as I had to?"
"Not by choice. This simply needs to be done. Besides, Sansa's grown rather strong and capable these last two years."
"Who do you have assigned to protect her?" she asked.
"I've assigned Brienne of Tarth and Ariyana Dayne as her sworn shields. They are more than capable of guarding Sansa from any who would mean to harm her. But Sansa will need you for the time being until Robb and I get back," he answered. "In my absence, Lord Tywin will govern the city in my stead."
"And the promise you made to my late husband?" Catelyn pressed.
"I know what I said," Daveth swore he felt his lips almost curling into a snarl. "I remember the promise I made to Ned Stark that day as he laid dying on his deathbed, that I would protect Sansa with my life. I intend to keep that promise."
"And how is putting your life on the line again proving that you are protecting my daughter?"
"Doesn't matter what I call it, mother-in-law," he turned away before giving a backwards glance at Catelyn. "And one more thing… you will not invoke Ned Stark's memory to use as a weapon against me again. Is that clear? It is far beneath a noblewoman of your stature… considering our blood ties."
Catelyn said nothing as she watched her son-in-law ride away with his men. The Stark matriarch simply turned around and marched towards the gates of the Red Keep to tend to her daughter.
'Gods, bring those boys home in one piece,' she prayed. 'They are simply too young to be marching off on their own like this.'
######
At Winterfell…
"I already told you I am not abandoning my home or my people while Balon Greyjoy invades our ancestral lands," replied Bran Stark as Hodor carried him around the courtyard.
Jojen Reed simply kept up the pace with them. "If you do not come with us, then it won't be all of the North that is in danger but all of Westeros will be buried beneath the cold."
"We came all this way from Greywater Watch to find you," insisted a rather annoyed Meera. "To refuse us would be a detrimental insult. Not just to us, but to the Three-Eyed Raven himself."
"He knows you have this hidden power, Bran," Jojen professed. "The dreams, visions of things to come…"
Bran looked to argue, when an unexpected guest came through the doors. Summer growled a bit as Bran, Hodor, Osha, Jojen and Meera turned to see a rather familiar face.
"I thought I'd be able to catch up with you, little lord."
"Theon?" Bran said surprised.
In a stroke of fortune, Theon Greyjoy had managed to elude his father's grasp and avoid detection from the ironborn. He had taken a huge risk coming to Winterfell or even any section in the North for that matter. Every noble house in the North plus the Crannogmen in the Neck are already putting up fierce resistance against the ironborn; most of the Northern forces are stretched a bit thin as calls for reinforcements were sent daily. Should anyone in the North ever spot an ironborn, most noticeably Theon, they were to be attacked on sight.
"Your father invaded our home. Took Moat Cailin, pillaged our homes, raped countless women," Meera pointed a wooden spear at his face. "Why should we even allow you entry into this stronghold? Give me one reason why I should let you keep breathing?"
Theon raised a hand up in submission. "I know what you may think of me, of my father, my family, our people and the Iron Island's traditions. But I swear I had no part in my father's schemes! I tried to convince him not to invade, I tried to stop him, I swear!"
"Why should we believe you?" Osha threatened as she pulled out a sharp knife.
"Hodor?" burped Hodor. "Hodor. Hodor!"
"Go away! Go away! Go away!" screamed Rickon.
Meera pointed the tip at Theon's nose. "The deceased Lord Eddard Stark was more of a father to you than yours ever was. He took you into his castle. Fed you, clothed you, given you a descent education… you trained with Robb. He thinks of you as a brother!"
"I know that!"
"And you dare betray his memory?!"
"Who do you think it was who told you of my father's plot?" Theon suggested in an almost desperate shout. "Who was it that sent word to Winterfell? To White Harbor? Or even the Dreadfort for that matter?"
"The raven's scroll detailing a warning… That was you?" Bran asked.
Theon nodded. "I always wanted to do the right thing, be the right kind of person, but I never knew what that meant," he tells Bran. "It's always seemed like… like there was an impossible choice I had to make: Stark or Greyjoy."
"Yet now you made a choice. But… you seem troubled by it."
"Why wouldn't I be troubled? My father rebels against the crown, and I'm dead. Daveth Baratheon and your brother end up being successful in putting an end to it, and I'm dead. Chances are I might end up losing my head anyway. The least I can do is clean up what my family has done."
Bran made a suggestion. "You could take the black, Theon. Join the Night's Watch. No one will be able to touch you there."
"Only for Jon to slit my throat in my sleep," Theon scoffed. "No, little lord. I don't want to take the black. Best that I lessen the damage my father has done, but… but to do that, you'll need to leave Winterfell with these two before it's too late."
The crippled Stark boy couldn't believe what he was hearing. Not only was Theon siding against his own family, but he was also demanding that he, Osha, Hodor, his brother Rickon, Jojen, Meera and the two direwovles Summer and Shaggydog leave Winterfell should the fighting ever come their way.
"Battles mean wars," said Jojen. "If some army should take us unawares…"
Meeren chimed in. "The Wall is still a very long way and Bran has no use of his legs and has to rely on Hodor."
"Bran has need of a teacher wiser than me. Somewhere to the north, the Three-Eyed Raven awaits us. We can't get him to come to us, so we have to go to him. Or… he could show us the way."
Before Meera could find a reply to that, they heard the sound; the distant howl of a wolf, drifting through the night.
"Summer?" asked Jojen, listening.
"No." Bran knew the voice of his direwolf.
"Are you certain?"
"Certain."
Summer had wandered far afield today, and would not be back till dawn. Maybe Jojen dreams green, but he can't tell a wolf from a direwolf. He wondered why they all listened to Jojen so much. He was not an acting lord like Bran, nor big and strong like Hodor, nor as good a hunter as Meera, yet somehow it was always Jojen telling them what to do.
"Teach me," Bran still feared the Three-Eyed Raven who haunted his dreams, pecking endlessly at the skin between his eyes and telling him to fly. "You're a greenseer."
"No," Jojen refused, "only a boy who dreams. The greenseers were more than that. They were wargs as well, as you are, and the greatest of them could wear the skins of any beast that flies or swims or crawls, and could look through the eyes of the weirwoods as well, and see the truth that lies beneath the world."
"Okay, okay, hold up!" Theon interrupted. "Can somebody explain this to me? What the fuck is a 'Three-Eyed Raven'?"
"The last Greenseer, an extraordinarily powerful one with the Sight," Jojen explained. "He was the one who granted me visions and why Bran is important for the war to come."
Theon wasn't sure if he would be able to understand that, so he remained silent. Meera took Bran by the hand.
"If we stay here, troubling no one, you'll be safe until the war ends. You will not learn, though, except what my brother can teach you, and you've heard what he says. You are only a boy, I know, but you are our lord's brother and heir as well until a son is born to him. We have sworn you our faith by earth and water, bronze and iron, ice and fire. The risk is yours, Bran, as is the gift."
Bran tried to think it through, the way his father might have. The Greatjon's uncles Hother Whoresbane and Mors Crowfood were fierce men, but he thought they would be loyal; as are the Karstarks, too. At Winterfell, Hother Whoresbane would laugh a lot, and never seemed to look at Bran with so much pity as the other lords. Castle Cerwyn was closer than White Harbor, but Maester Luwin had said that Cley Cerwyn was with Robb at the moment. As he would be, if he was caught by the ironborn should they ever approach Winterfell, it would mean the end of him. If they stayed here, hidden down beneath Tumbledown Tower, no one would find them. He would stay alive… and crippled.
"You say he wants me to find him. Then take me to him," Bran's voice cracked. No matter where he went, he'd always be a cripple. He balled his hands into fists.
Jojen and Meera nodded in acknowledgement. "We will have to go past Castle Black if we are to find him then."
'They plan to find this so-called raven beyond the Wall? That's suicide!' thought Theon. Even if he didn't understand what they were talking about, any who ventured beyond the Wall risks a slow, cold end. But he knew at least Bran would be protected by his companions at least.
"But Rickon can't come with me."
"No, no, no!" Rickon protested. "I'm coming with you!"
"No," Bran refused. "You and Osha and Shaggydog keep yourselves safe. Our bannermen will protect you."
The youngest Stark still threw a tantrum. "I'm coming with you! I'm your brother! I have to protect you!" he cried, tugging Bran's sleeves.
"Right now I have to protect you as your older brother. Robb and Daveth are at war and I'm going beyond the Wall. If something happens to me, you're the heir to Winterfell."
Rickon cried as Osha held the child close to her, stroking his hair as if the Stark was her own child. The wildling felt her heart ache at Rickon being separated from his family, but she promised to take care of the boy.
"Keep this one safe," Bran asked Osha. "He means the world to me."
Osha nodded. "Don't worry about this one, little lord," she half-heartedly chuckled. "Your family took me in and was good to me without cause." The wildling looked to see Rickon crying on her dress. "Shh! Come here, little soldier," she hushed. "You and me, we're gonna have some adventures. We'll be fine, you and me."
"Come with us, Theon," Bran beseeched.
Theon shook his head. "I have to stay behind. Someone has to keep my family occupied while you find what you seek. Do something to keep myself busy, right?"
Bran sadly lowered his head as Hodor, still carrying the crippled Stark, moved towards the main exit of Winterfell. Osha had to hold Rickon back as the boy reached out crying for his brother. Theon felt a twinge of regret at having been forced into this position. He had been facing with inner turmoil for a great amount of years since arriving at Winterfell as a ward eleven years ago. Whatever decision was made, it had to be done. Theon reached into his pocket and pulled out a crumpled up scroll and dropped it. As a small breeze moved the scroll, the contents spread apart to allow the message to become more visible.
"Robb,
I hope this reaches you in time. My father has rejected the
offer and plans to attack the North, raiding the shores and
taking Deepwood Motte. You and Daveth mobilize your
armies and make for the North before it's too late. I'll write
again when I can.
Signed,
Theon"
######
Aboard the Fury…
Sailing up the Blackwater Bay and into the Bay of Crabs, Lord Stannis Baratheon stood at the helm of his flagship. He folded his arms as his eyes looked to the horizon, never mind the Northmen roaming around each vessel in the Royal Fleet. Stannis continued his brooding as Greatjon Umber rambled on and on to his first mate Ser Imry Florent while Rickard Karstark spent his time with Robb Stark discussing plans to take back the North from the ironborn whilst Grey Wind shifted his position so the direwolf would remain standing aboard the ship.
Roose Bolton, meanwhile, stood by himself looking across the bay – almost no one could tell what was going through his mind; but whatever the Lord of the Dreadfort was thinking, waiting to receive word from his bastard son. Roose sent the boy on a scouting mission further into western portions of the North and relay any information he found there.
Davos Seaworth, Stannis's trusted advisor, made his way atop the deck.
"My lord," Davos greeted.
Stannis met his gaze. "What is it?" he says curtly.
"All appropriate measurements have been taken for the upcoming war. Rations sorted out, our soldiers are in the best possible position to lay siege."
"Good."
"I… I also extend my sympathies, my lord."
"For what?"
"About your brother," Davos explained. "Even though it's been over a year, I wanted to let you know people still grieve for him."
"What's done is done, Ser Davos. Fools love a fool," Stannis replied briskly. "Still, I grieve for the boy Renly was, not the man he grew to be. He disobeyed his king. Whatever good he made, it does not wash out the bad. You yourself should know that."
"Lord Stannis!" Robb called out.
The Lord of Dragonstone turned to see the young Lord of Winterfell approach him, extending his hand. When Stannis refused to shake his hand, Robb slowly brought his hand down and decided to get to the point.
"The North thanks you for you allowing us use of the Royal Fleet," the Young Wolf graciously said.
Stannis looked at young man thirty-years his junior. "The person you should be thanking for lending you my ships is Daveth, not me."
"Even so, we appreciate the generosity House Baratheon has shown us."
"It would be unwise to confuse generosity with concessions," Stannis reminded Robb. "My family is not the kind who lends other houses our military vessels simply on a whim."
Robb frowned. "I had not asked His Grace to make a concession of any sorts. I only asked for his aid in repelling the ironborn from the North."
"And yet you got it anyway. When all this is over, my ships are returning to Dragonstone."
"Fair enough," he replied. "I'd like a fight. My men would like a fight."
"Do not mistake one battle you had at Blackwater Bay with a real war because that's not how soldiers are made," Stannis said with his typical air of authority. "War is not about seeking glory. We know our duties, and abide by them by every law of Westeros. You'll find that even so long as us experienced veterans are still standing that we'll point out the flaws in your approach to battle, boy."
Robb felt his temper rise. "Do not call me boy again, Lord Stannis."
"Only a boy would make such a demand of not being called one no matter his age."
The Young Wolf continued feeling his nerves twitch, wanting to stare down the Lord of Dragonstone but bit his tongue. Stannis was Daveth's uncle and commanded the best ships in the Royal Fleet, plus the North was in danger so Robb had to take it out on the ironborn once they landed. What was on his mind was the earlier talk he had with Daveth back at King's Landing, when Robb noticed a strange look in his friend's eyes. Something troubled him that day.
"Still, the ironborn won't be able to resist us now or ever again," Stannis continued. "Robert should have had them put to the sword as an example to any who'd dare take up arms against the King again."
"We do that and war becomes a slaughter," Robb pointed out. "If we do, then we are no better than Balon Greyjoy."
"There are no cleaner ways about war, Lord Stark, nor are there honorable ones," Stannis countered. "War is a bloody mess. No one is content about it, but it's our duty to end it."
"Then let us hope that our forces should be more than sufficient," Robb finished before leaving to join his men.
Stannis smirked in amusement. 'I believe we have more than sufficient to root out Balon Greyjoy and the traitorous scum who follow him.'
It was going to be a long voyage to White Harbor, and there were to be some tensions going on. Stannis observed his men and the Northern host one by one, evaluating their strengths and weaknesses and mentally strategized where they would be the most effective on the battlefield.
"Nephew handled himself well on the defensive last time, now we'll see how Daveth does when he goes on the offensive; to demonstrate how our fury burns."
######
Author's Note: The Oathkeeper and Young Wolf are off to war, bonds are tested, a Stark plans to seek out the Three-Eyed Raven, Stannis makes a return to the stage and Theon has finally chosen a side. What'll happen to them once the Second Greyjoy Rebellion finally dies down? And what'll happen when Daveth finds out Robb inadvertently sent Theon back to the Iron Islands without his knowledge or his consent? Thoughts? Let me know.
Also, real quick: How did you guys think of the polling decision I set up earlier? Figured you guys would like a say in how a future chapter is developed. Was it helpful? Was there something you'd like to add about it? The current unique vote right now is 67, polls will close when it reaches 100. If you haven't voted already, please do so; you've got plenty of time. If you plan to do it on your phone, then switch from mobile view to desktop view. Thanks!
DaddyChad: When will you be updating again?
―Currently in the middle of writing the next chapter as we speak.
Warrior of God2375: I'm honestly in love with this fic, the detail to the characters are spot on. I like how Daveth, even though he loves Sansa he still keeps the attitude of a King. Loved that, and am I correct to predict a possible Joffrey redemption arc? If so, you've officially became my favorite goddamn Author. Looking forward to more!
C.E.W: So now the orders are given and Daveth calls the banners off to war with the Iron Islands. Balon Greyjoy has just signed his and the Ironborn's death warrant, now how are the Ironborn are going to go down? Let's find out what kind of the warriors the Ironborn really are. With any luck, they'll be dealt with before the Wildling problem reaches south of the Wall.
Guest #4: Interesting. So Theon is going against his family. Guess there's no need to send that message he dropped, unless he has another motive. Hope he doesn't.
Also, will we see Daenerys any time soon and will Oberyn face the Mountain like he did in the series? Cool chapter, btw.
―Thanks. And yes Daenerys will return and Oberyn will have his match-up against the Mountain.
kira444: I can't wait to see Daveth go nuts when he learns of Robb's decision. I hope they'll be some Sansa v Cersei scenes in the future. Just seeing them bite and snarl at each other.
―Even if they are best friends and in-laws, chances are Daveth might likely see Robb's decision as a stab in the back. I'll also work on some Sansa v Cersei scenarios at some point - gotta make sure it's done right. An epic battle between the wolf and the lion.
Guest #3: Great story but keep sansa alive
―Thanks, but I've been getting a lot of requests regarding Sansa's fate lately... Let me reiterate my stance: I'm not killing off Sansa Stark. And that's final.
Guest #2: great story
―Thanks.
Guest #1: Just make sure Ramsey is not gettin any Starks or Theon cause we all know how that turn out for them (Rickon died been killed for sport and Theon being tortured and turn to a cockless man) and we don't need to see it happen again OK.. PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I BEG YOU DO NOT LET RAMSEY HAVE THEON OR THE STARK BROTHERS
―I'll see if I can make some modifications to what Ramsay is up to.
DaddyChad: "He was not a prince like Bran"
Jaime and Tyrion for example weren't princes when Cersei was Queen, so Bran isn't a Prince now his sister is the Queen.
―Error has been corrected.
Patty 4577: Oh god I forgot Ramsay was in this. Although the problem is that this time though, he won't be able to get away with burning Winterfell. Also whilst Daveth is away a bit of a sub-plot would be is Sansa establishing herself as Queen. Cersei trying to retain power at all costs and Margaery trying to usurp power from both of them.
―Ramsay wouldn't live long if he did such a thing. I'll try to include a sub-plot where Sansa starts settling into her new role as Queen whilst noticing Cersei's dislike of her and Margaery Tyrell's subtle power play.
BioHazard82: Another good chapter.
―Thanks.
mpowers045: The battle for Blackwater is over, the battle for the North is about to begin.
―"And so it begins." "No. Now it ends."
RHatch89: Awesome update :)
―Thanks.
The Three Stoogies: oooooohhhhhh the build up toes are curling can't wait for the climax keep up the great work can't wait to read more.
―We'll be getting to a few battle scenes momentarily, don't you worry.
Moshi: Sansa acquitted herself well in her interaction with Daveth. Please don't kill her off, it would be such a waste, fuck those people who want her dead. Her and Daveth need to have a brood to match her parents, maybe throw in a set of twins.
Why did they leave Winterfell? Not good, not good. At least Theon is showing some brains and please Gods, do not Ramsey get ahold of him and/or Winterfell!
―I don't even understand why some people started asking for Sansa to be killed off; like, seriously, I'm not going to do it. That's not why I started writing this story! Sansa and Daveth still need to have kids of their own. Anyway, Theon suggested that at some point during the war Winterfell's no longer gonna be safe he just wants Bran to get out of there and Rickon to hide as possible to avoid being captured by some moronic ironborn raiders. I haven't even introduced Ramsay yet, but he might at some point.