A/N: Fiiiiiiiiiiine!

Long chapters take longer to write and I'm so sodding tired...but I'm getting bombarded with messages for this. Oddly enough, people are worried for Robb and Randyll Tarly the most.

I mean, I understand the former, but Tarly?

So here! I'll cut the bloody chapter into pieces if you want to see what happens so badly. This chapter is told from different viewpoints as the "wedding" begins, most of it involving several key characters-Naruto among them-and their perspective on the Red Wedding. We've got a lot of ground to cover, a lot of threads to connect, and more.

I'm experimenting a bit.

And as of this author's note IT IS DONE.

A man has seen the end and a man's heart is broken. Shattered into pieces. And now we wait for the prequels! Also some anonymous twit bitched about me answering questions and responding to reviews. Too nice, he said. Too personal, he said. Hmmph. Now, how to be put this nicely...

...a man does not care.

Now for your questions! We've got a lot of them!

Q: Dany...just Dany. Please. Have mercy on her. Don't do what the show did to her! And where in gods good name is Jorah?! Did he go to the Wall or not?!

A: I'll say it plain, this Daenerys is NOT the Daenerys of Season Eight. She's kind, but also fierce. Stubborn, yet willing to bend to reason. And fiercely, FIERCELY protective of her children. She was basically hauled to Westeros against her will, without an army. That doesn't change who she is, or whom she might become. She hasn't suffered all those betrayals, hasn't lost dear friends, hasn't had...that incident. It doesn't mean she's safe. Few are in Game of Thrones. As to Jorah...well...

...you'll have your answer in this chapter.

Q: Don't you DARE to Tyrion what the show did. He's often two steps ahead of everyone else, yet for the past two seasons the show has dumbed him down and made him a FOOL. Unacceptable! We, the people, demand that you correct this travesty!

A: ...okay? It was always my intention to keep Tyrion as he his. Our favorite Lannister will retain every bit of his wits.

Q: If you kill the Hound I'll will hate you forever.

A: I can assure you, Sandor Clegane is one of THREE people who are genuinely safe in this story. Everyone else? Fair game. From Stannis, all the way down to Naruto himself. Hmm...I wonder who the other two are? Here's a hint. The second is a feisty redhead from beyond the wall. Blunt enough for you? I won't say who the third is.

Q: Why is Naruto being such a wuss toward the Red Woman? She isn't that bad.

A: Not that bad? Not that bad?! Bollocks! If a woman wants to burn children for her "Lord" then a woman is evil. No two ways about it. On the topic, Naruto's encounters with Melisandre have been strained, I'll admit, but he's no slave to her. He dislikes her IMMENSELY and she knows it. Hence why she so rarely tries to provide him counsel or any such thing. She knows he'd sooner kill her as look at her. She may have helped during the Long Night, but she is not a good person. Not by any means or measure.

If she tries to bed Naruto, she'll die. Plain and simple, mate.

Q: BARRISTAN FUCKING SELMY?! YES! ALL MY YESSES!

A: Ha! Glad you liked that. It just didn't feel right to exclude the old swordsman from this story.

Q: All Freys must die?

A: *Zips lips*

Q: Dacey Mormont from Mountain's Range?!

A: Aye. As soon as I learned who she was, I had to include her. On another note, I feel I should point out something; more characters from the books will appear in this tale. Victarion Greyjoy for example, among others. Arianne's already wildly popular!

Q: When are we getting that prequel story? And Naruto's origins?

A: Right then, I'll say it plain. Naruto's mother IS the Kushina we all love and know. There. Cat's out of the bag. I won't say anymore. Make of that what you will. And the prequel will come. Soon.

Q: More plot points, please? Pretty please?

A: Fine. I'll list more:

(1) Essos.

(2) Myrcella and Dorne.

(3) MORE DRAGONS. Let that sink in.

(4) The High Sparrow and the Faith Militant.

Q: BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!

A: You'll have your fill with this chapter, I assure you. It starts out slow, then...WHAM! Surprise!

Now then, we've got a wedding to crash.

This chapter is told from multiple perspectives at first-the better to up the tension-then it rears back and bites you. Hard.

Trust me when I say you are not prepared for this.

Quote below is a modified version of, well...

...lets just say...events to come.

"Love is more powerful than reason. Love is the death of duty. Sometimes duty is the death of love itself. But what is honor compared to a woman's love? What is duty against the feel of a newborn son in your arms? Or a sister's smile? We're all human. We all do our duty when there's no cost to it. Honor comes easier then.

Yet sooner or later, in every man's life, there comes a day when it is not easy. A day when he must choose.

Tell me, what will you do when that day comes? Which will you choose?

I wonder if you even know the answer yourself."

~a blind Maester.

Valar Morghulis (Part II)

The Young Wolf

Today was a good day to die.

Robb Stark had no absolutely no intention of meeting the Gods so long as he could stave them off, but if that was to be his fate, he would meet them tonight sword in hand and Grey Wind at his side. He had tried so very hard and gotten so very far on his mettle alone; now he need only survive this sham of a wedding-for the sake of maintaining appearances-then he would never venture this far South again. He felt out of his element in this place, when he wanted nothing more than to take his men and march home, Walder Frey be damned.

Perhaps he'd visit Jon at the Wall after this, surprise him with an unannounced visit. Ghost would be happy to see his sibling, too.

Hmm.

Robb rather liked the sound of that thought. Right now, he longed to be anywhere but here.

As if sensing that very thought, Grey Wind growled beside him. A rueful smile stole over the Northman's visage.

"I know, boy." he murmured, stroking the direwolf's fur in a futile attempt to soothe his companion. "Just put up with it for a little while longer. We'll go North soon."

Further North than he'd ever been before. To the Wall. To see Jon. Gods, it had been so long since he'd last seen any of his siblings. Stannis might well have returned Sansa to them, but years in Kings Landing had hardened her. She was taller. Leaner. A light had gone out in those once gentle eyes, one that might never be kindled again. Gone was the naive grinning girl he remembered from Winterfell, dead as surely as Father. In her place, only a ghost remained. She'd gained a mind for politics from her tenure in the south and he hadn't the heart to deny her, so long as pushed the interest of the North.

He'd suffered so much for his country, for his kingdom, with so little to show for it. Yes, they were independent. Yes, they had a strange friend in the crown. Yes, the Lannisters had paid for their treachery tenfold. And yet some nights he wished Father had just stayed in the damn North where he belonged-where they belonged-and that none of this had ever happened. If wishes could change the world

Gazing up at Twins tonight reminded him of the last time he'd crossed here so long, and the price paid. To pass the crossing he'd forfeited Arya's future to a Frey, named her a future wife to a boy she hadn't even met; one that would one day be her husband if the truce was upheld. He himself would take Roslin Frey as his betrothed, to be wed once the war was won. But Arya was still missing and Robb had broken his vow for love.

He did not regret wedding Talisa for a moment, but he was glad he hadn't brought her here.

This was a foul place.

Now those terrible towers loomed before him in the gloom just as they had all those days ago; still as squat and ugly as their lord. No, that was unfair of him. He had forsaken his oath to Walder Frey and this was his way of making amends. Without it, the wretched old man would never forgive the slight and who knew where that might lead. Not that he seemed to be in much of a hurry to avenge his honor. If he were, no doubt he would have

All around Robb the world heaved with bodies, Tully and Stark and Baratheon and Frey alike, the air rich with laughter as men and women drank.

Yet it was subdued on the Northmen's part. Controlled.

Robb's elite-those who could be trusted to hold their tongues even under duress-quietly wore hidden mail beneath their clothes, hands on their swords as they awaited any sign of treachery. Others were left with standing orders not to get roaring drunk in camp...at least not without a sober escort. They did not ear any food but their own, shipped in packed containers and seasoned with salt. Those who disobeyed or were otherwise incapable of denying their vices were given the switch. Thus far they seemed to be obeying...for now.

With an effort, he willed himself to exhale.

Sansa was safe. His mother was safe. Talisa was safe; and so too was the babe burrowed in her belly. They were all safe and secure in a now-restored Winterfell, guarded by good men, loyal men of the North. The women of his family were ensconced within its great walls far, far away from this awful place, safe and secure in the North. No one-nothing!-could take that from him. If their new luck yet held, Brann and Rickon-and maybe even Arya herself-might yet be found by the king's men. Their once fractured family was slowly being welded back together by the winds of change from King's Landing and the impossible alliance that came with it.

One way or another, this ended tonight.

Even if he fell here today, even if Walder Frey proved himself the duplicitous weasel half the realm thought him to be, the old codger would gain nothing for his treachery but his head. He thought Robb's family traveled with him and were thus coming to the feast and thus vulnerable. An ugly deception perhaps, one Robb didn't hesitate to use as a shield for his family. Perhaps if the old Frey thought all the Starks had assembled here, he might grow overbold. He might make mistakes. By the time he learned the truth it would be too late; he would either slink back into his hole, or strike.

Robb had not thought him capable of breaking guest right, but the prince argued otherwise.

He owed that one a great deal, a debt that might never be repaid. This would be a start, surely.

Would fifteen hundred men be enough to dissuade Walder Frey's foolishness? Who knew? Many of the men had gone home long before the wedding. Roose Bolton mourned the loss of his heir, yet with no body to show for it, some whispered that Ramsay Snow yet lived. That he was out there somewhere, harassing Lannister soldiers. But they weren't the enemy at the moment. The Freys were. The royal party had spent several days waiting for them as it were, now that he'd finally arrived, Robb found himself strangely reluctant to present himself before him. If only Father were alive to see this. Surely he would've know what to-

A dragon's roar shattered the world.

The Young Wolf rounded on the sound and Grey Wind winced under his hand.

"Aha!" a rough, pleasant voice drawled. "There you are, Your Grace! We've been waiting for you!"

Sure enough, he found the prince approaching him from the southern end of camp. That didn't concern him.

The dragon did.

He glimpsed the pale beast behind him, nearly large enough to carry a grown man, wings tucked at its side as it slunk along behind him. It trilled happily and the men parted before it like the sea. Some too far into their cups even dared to touch it at the young man's bidding. Gorgeous beast, Robb mused. If they were here then their mother was likely somewhere in the camp. They would've been a boon in the early days of the war. His direwolf growled warily, hackles rising at the sight of the beast-already larger than him-but the dragon merely snorted. Gods they were big.

"Don't worry about Viserion," Naruto said with a smile, "He's been fed."

Robb considered the growing dragon with mild trepidation.

His kneeling was only slightly forced in that regard.

"Your Grace."

"None of that! Get on your feet, man!" Strong hands grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him up again.. "A King should not bow to a prince."

A few years ago, Robb might have agreed. But he owed this man a debt, one he could never truly repay. With some reluctance he allowed the prince to pull him back to his feet. Viserion watched him like a hawk through the entire exchange, those keen slitted eyes never leaving him. The northman felt his right hand twitch in Grey Wind's coat. Clever beast. Far too smart by half. How long had it been since the world had seen their like? And now there were three of them. Perhaps more...

"You can touch him, if you want." the prince prodded. "He's not quite as feisty as his brothers."

...I'm not sure I should."

Naruto arched an eyebrow. "Are you wearing mail under your clothes like I told you to?"

"You're mad." A muscle jumped in Robb's jaw. "That dragon will bite right through it. You know that."

"Bah! Viserion won't bite unless I tell him to." the prince reassured him pointedly. "Go on. He's harmless. Although...

His own gaze stretched longingly to Grey Wind, who still hadn't budged. A strange, almost childish longing bloomed in those blue orbs. "May I?"

"Just...be careful." he warned. "He's not much fond of strangers."

"Why, Your Grace!" the bastard guffawed. "I'll have you know I'm the very soul of discretion."

"Somehow I doubt that. Its your hand, then."

Robb demurred with a long-suffering sigh and in a moment Wolf and Stag traded places. Viserion stiffened as his chosen partner stepped away, but did not otherwise protest when the King in the North moved to lay a wondering hand upon his head. Naruto likewise removed his glove to thread a palm through the fur of a reluctant Grey Wind. Robb silently prayed his old friend wouldn't take it into his head to bite that hand off. He'd have no end of trouble explaining that one to the King...nor did he himself want to witness dragon fire firsthand...

"Gorgeous beast." the prince murmured reverently. "Its a shame we don't have more of them. Could you imagine a whole pack of them?"

Those words drew a flinch from Robb.

Briefly, he thought of the rest of his brother's pack.

Ghost was likely still with Jon on the Wall, but what of Summer and Shaggydog? Lost, with Bran and Rickon. Sansa had returned to them but Lady was...gone, and Nymeria missing with Arya alike. All of them, scattered and lost...

"Did you know I was fostered here, once upon a time?"

That caught Robb's attention, piquing his interest enough to draw him from his melancholy and turn his attention back to the prince. "You were?"

"I wasn't much to look at back. then." came the mild reply as he scratched behind Grey Wind's right ear. "I was just a boy when my Father shipped me out here; not out of a sense of kinship or anything, I suppose he just wanted me out of his hair. I'd been caught with one of the serving girls you see, and the great Lord Stannis didn't like that. Not one bit. I suppose he thought of this as a punishment."

A distant trill drew his attention, and he briefly glimpsed a black dragon winging with one of its brothers through the dark skies above.

"We didn't see eye to eye, even back then." Naruto hummed, drawing his attention once more. "I hated it here. Swore to make myself miserable just to spite him, and I nearly did." his hand threaded through Grey Wind's coat, those once keen blue eyes turning almost foggy with memory. "Then I fell in love. She was a sweet girl, sweet on me, and I on her. Walder forbid it of course; he's a right prick like that. No, he lent no further thought to giving one of his few prettier daughters to some bastard boy...until she threw herself from the Twins. I left the next day. Never thought I'd come back. I wonder if Roslin still makes those pies...

Roslin?

Oh gods, this was going to be awkward.

Robb twitched and a sullen silence arose betwixt them.

"Oh." Naruto blinked. "That's right. You were going to marry, her weren't you?"

He wanted to crawl into the dirt and die. Maybe then his face would stop burning. The Prince looked far, far, far too pleased with himself. As though he were subject to some secret joke he didn't know about. There wasn't a cruel quality to it, just the teasing glint of one man to another.

"Your loss, I'm afraid." his smile was decidedly impish. "She was a beautiful girl even back then. I suspect lords would kill to have her hand now. Perhaps in another time...

Cutting himself short, he shook his head.

"I envy you, you know. You married for love, not duty or honor." a wistful smile-and perhaps a hint of jealousy-flitted across the prince's face. The latter he outright admitted to. "I'm almost envious; if only because I had no say in mine. One I was forced to marry for duty and the realm, and the other...if I hadn't said anything, she would've died." his lips peeled in a grimace. "The things we do for love. Granted, I've come to care for them both now, but it wasn't easy in the beginning...

"Marriages?"

Naruto actually flushed.

"Yes," he groaned, palming his face. "Plural. I care deeply for them, but there is such a thing as being too noble. I'll not take a third, so help me."

Robb imagined Father's last moments, those frantic seconds before the sword came down on his head. Had his nobility killed him? And what had he done? As if he were any better. He hadn't followed his heart-no, not at first-he'd just followed his cock. Love came later. Love came when he saw her gentleness and free spirit, her courage and her kindness.

"Aye," he croaked. "I suppose you may be right. But why are you here?"

In response, Viserion's long neck arched under Robb's hand. He had all of a second to step backward; even then the backswing of those leathery wings nearly caught him in the head. In moments the dragon took flight, soaring into the sky to join its brothers. Naruto watched him go with a rueful smile and finally took his hand from Grey Wind's coat, pausing just long enough to deliver one quick pat.

"Can I not pay an old friend a visit?"

Robb didn't bat an eyelash.

"Alright, alright! Jeez, that glare is downright deadly. I'm merely making the rounds," the young lord confessed with a small smile. "They say gifts and surprises has a way of...keeping men loyal. Me?" his slim shoulders rolled in a small shrug, "I just like making people happy. Its a bit of a bad habit with me, you see. Might have something to do with being born a bastard." He meant it, too. Though those wild blue eye open creased in a sly wink, they held not a notch of duplicity. "You're first, and its a grand give I have for you."

"I don't understand." Robb blinked. "What gift?"

In response, Naruto whistled sharply, to which the King in the North had just enough time to blink.

Then a small blur cannoned into the Young Wolf, rocking him back on his heels.

He heard Arya's voice and his world shattered.

"Robb!"

His arms tightened around her as she babbled happily in his ear, unable to do anything else but sob. He couldn't move. Couldn't think. Could scarcely even breathe, such was his shock. Arya. Gods, she'd grown. He almost didn't believe it was her until her voice cut through his doubts. No. She shouldn't be here. It wasn't safe. Walder Frey would try to take advantage of this, of the chaos, of the wedding and all the noise-wait...he didn't hear anything.

He didn't hear anything.

In place of the crass carousing in camp, the world had gone quiet. Almost deathly so. As if the whole realm were holding its breath. A strange, nameless dread welled up in him and he pushed a confused Arya-heedless of her question-behind his back. Perhaps he might yet have said more, were it not for the sudden scrape of steel escaping a scabbard.

"Something's wrong." the words escaped him on a hiss. "Its too quiet. Listen."

"I know." Naruto hummed, draw his own. "Its all part of the plan. Best draw your sword."

"Your plan?" He heard them now, a distant buzz of noise, of enraged roars trailing off into shrieks.

Naruto's head bobbed, a small smile blooming in his eyes. "Tell me, are you familiar with Basilisk blood?"

...I have heard of it." Robb relented. Maester Luwin had mentioned it once, and the name had stuck with him. Seasoned on meat, it drove men mad with rage. "But why...?"

A great shadow swept past him and the Young Wolf's back tensed as he beheld the towering form of Ulric striding through. The man had his sword drawn, but it hung loose at his side, heedless of the blood staining it. With a wordless grunt, he bowed before his prince and took up his vigil beside him. Then came another. Another. And another still. Surrounding them.

"We're ready, my lord." the giant boomed. "Its as you said. The Frey's attacked first."

He planned this. The words echoed in Robb's head as his own mean surged up behind him. All along...he planned this...

"Good." the Prince took three steps forward, brandishing his blade. His shadows silently moved as one, to follow their lord and liege. "How unfortunate, It seems all the Freys outside the Twins lost their minds." his voice dripped with smarmy sardonic snark as he glanced over his shoulder. Such a shame that so many turned on their guests in a drunken rage, don't you think, Lord Stark? How wise of us to be prepared for it. Walder Frey will welcome us into his hall, and when does, the blind fool won't even realize have his army's been gutted. Should he turn on us, we'll be ready for that, too."

Robb regarded him with horror.

"You planned this." the words finally escaped him, too late.

"I did, yes." came the immediate rejoinder, blue eyes dancing in the torchlight. "Mind you, we weren't fool enough to poison every bit of food. Just outside the towers. You'll find the food within quite untainted, and all the drink as well. We have a different plant for the Late Lord Frey."

At this, Arya finally stirred enough to wriggle out of his arms. "You're going to kill them all, aren't you?"

Robb and Naruto rounded on her in the same moment. Only the latter smiled back. "Quite."

"Good." her gaze hardened. "If they were going to kill us first, they deserve to die."

"Arya!" This isn't honorable!" Robb recoiled in horror.

Naruto scoffed.

"Honor?" those warm blue eyes turned to ice. "You speak to me of honor?! Honor means nothing in war. And make no mistake, we're still very much at war. I did this to save you."

"You didn't know he would-

"You seem to be laboring under a delusion, brother." a hand clamped down on his shoulder, and those blazing-blue eyes bored into own. "Walder Frey was going to gut you. Shoot you full of crossbow bolts until you fell at his feet. I saw it in my dreams. As far as I'm concerned, the poison merely revealed their true motives. Let his sons fall. Their Lord Father will join them soon enough."

Without another word, he departed.

"I don't ask for your forgiveness, only your trust. Come and see the truth."

Robb wasn't sure why he listened, what spurred him to follow this fool madman, but he did.

That bitter, wry laugh was one of the last things Robb Stark heard before the killing began in earnest.


(...0o0o0...)


The General

Randyll Tarly considered himself a man of honor.

And as a man of honor-of duty!-he wasn't sure of this plan.

Battles, they should be fought in the field, not in ballrooms or halls.

He disdained this Game of Thrones everyone insisted on playing; almost as much as he disdained the Iron Throne itself. Ugly thing. Ghastly. They say the Mad King kept cutting himself on it, which in turn led to another of his nicknames. King Scab. How could a man bear to sit on such a wretched piece of metal?

How could a man plot and scheme and win half the realm for themselves in less than a year?

He knew his place and was content in it, for the most part. House Tarly bred soldiers, not kings. Moreover, they did their duty. Lesser men would try to rise above their station, bringing havoc in their wake. Like those fool Tyrell women. It had all worked out for her family in the end; yet what if it hadn't? If those grasping girls had played their hand poorly, or made a mistake, or been caught, the Reach might well be on fire right now. Gods, just thinking about it gave him a headache. Margaery would be queen one day, that much was certain. Stannis would not live forever and his son was much loved.

That son had wed a Rose and he thought the matter closed.

Then came the return of a bloodline he'd thought all but extinct, the exotic beauty returned-thankfully without an army-from her exile across the sea, the Last Targaryen, the Mother of Dragons. She brought no army with her, but her "children" were the second coming of Aegon himself. Should they lay eggs, should they hatch...well. Westeros had endured dragons centuries before. Would they be able to do so again? Did they have any say in the matter? He supposed not.

Hers were large already, near enough to ride.

They were growing larger every day, free to roam as they pleased.

Seven hells, once the three of them were fully grown, once they were larger...

No. Betrayal was not an option. Perhaps it had never been an option. They held most of the cards, and the rest would come to them soon enough. Who would stand against them? The North was with the Crown, the Reach was with the crown, the bloody Riverlands and Dorne were with the crown! What remained? The Westerlands? Tywin Lannister had snatched Dragonstone sure enough, but Stannis was even now putting together a force to lay siege to Casterly Rock in retaliation. The Iron Islands? Those reaving, raping raiders? What leader did they have? What could they do alone?

What could he?

He'd been charged with their protection, no less. Made to wait away from the Twins, ready to sweep in if that duplicitous weasel proved himself treacherous. At least there might be a battle.

At such a distance it was all he could do just to see the fires of the mixed camp. Any moment now, and it would begin.

It galled him to realize there was nothing he could do about this. Nevermind the plan, the idea of a Targaryen-or the children of one-sitting the Iron Throne years from now...it galled him. Mace Tyrell-the oaf!-had been loyal to them perhaps, but Randyll had secretly rejoiced to see them gone. And now they were back, in the Crown's good graces. How soon would it be before the Prince had an accident? No, he liked it not, trusted it not. In his eyes they were all ill-born, despite their lineage. A bastard boy, a meddling schemer, and a girl with three dragons. Who would've thought?

He'd know the moment he laid eyes on the three of them.

The Bold Stag, The Grasping Rose, and, The Mother of Dragons herself.

Those three would do more than rule; for better or worse they would change the world. Only time would tell if he changed with it-

Thankfully, in that moment the distant clatter of battered boots clamoring up the hill claimed his attention and Randyll entertained no further thought on the matter. Silently he counted the moments until the scout arrived to make his report. Odd, that. He'd returned early. Didn't have a horse when he'd sent him out? The vaguest notion of concern prickled at his scalp. A hand reached back to Heartsbane's hilt, fingers curling around it in restless anticipation.

"Come."

As he looked on a harried-looking man was shepherded into the into the room. Poor sod. He looked like he'd seen better days, and would not see them again. Both a helmet-and the better part of his left ear-were missing, but he'd returned regardless. Wounded. Surely he hadn't ridden down to the Twins. He was meant to ride in the other direction.

"Report." he demanded briskly.

"R-Riders, m'lord." the man stuttered out. "Approaching the Twins." Ah. An ambush, then.

"How many?"

"Th-thousands, sir."

"What banners do they bear?"

"Lannister." came the stuttering response.

A small smile stole across Randyll's grim face, like that of a shark. It seemed his wish for battle would be granted tonight after all. He'd had suspected Tywin would take advantage of this opportunity. How could he not? He would be a fool to ignore this chance. There would never be a greater opportunity than this for the old lion. Be it through poison or deceit, or outright force of arms, he would strike. Tarly had suggested as much to the fool prince, and in a surprising show of character, he had given him a score of men to bolster his forces in case of just such an attack. Would the old lion lead his men into battle?

Did he care enough to fight him?

It would be so easy to ignore them.

For a moment, Randyll was...tempted.

He had but to stand aside, and the forces below would be crushed against the Twins. The Stag, The Rose, and The Dragon would fall to the Lion's claws while the Hunter looked on. Temptation gnawed at him anew and he found himself standing on a precipice, unable to decide. Duty commanded that he act. Duty drove him. Stannis was his king, and his loyalty was to the crown. Not some grasping Lion looking to avenge the fallen honor of his pride. No. His duty was clear, no matter how much he might loathe it.

Eventually, Tarly shunted his darker emotions aside.

"Rally the men, then." he commanded. "Spears and shields."

Without another word, he saddled his horse and drew Heartsbane from her sheathe.

One way or another, someone would meet the Stranger tonight; it only remained to be seen who would fall first.

A/N: Cliffhanger is a cliffhanger.

You didn't think Tywin would stay silent, did you?

Author's note here is relatively the same, so feel free to skip down to the juicy previews below.

Felt good to finally get back to his after a year, now that my health is holding together. You can certainly expect more updates soon, dare I say monthly? I want to say weekly. In an ideal world, that would be better, but my job's beating me to hell and back. I may have a team now, but that's only for SOME of my stories, such as Die Another Day and others. This bad boy right here was once written with the help of a dear one who has...well. Suffice it to say she's moved on. I don't begrudge her it, and I continue in her stead.

So in the Immortal Words of Atlas...

...Review, Would You Kindly?

No preview this time...

...who am I kidding?

Here you gooo~!

Obvious lines are obvious and I own nothing~! Some might fault for one of them, for going this route, but this has always been the plan. I'm deliberately playing my hand close to my chest here. What's that, you say? Naruto isn't in these previews? *whistles innocently* now whyever would I do such a thing?

Do tell me which ones you like...

...please?

(Previews)

Roslin bowed.

"It is as he says, Your Grace."


There.

On the horizon.

Thorne saw the dragons.

Saw the girl riding the largest of them.

Something deep inside his rotten heart crumbled and the laughter began.


Daenerys shot out of her chair. "You're...him. Aemon Targaryen."

"I am indeed." came the dry answering croak. "And who are you? You sound-

Her hands gently closed around his wrinkled fingers. "My name...is Daenerys. Daenerys Targaryen."

He wheezed out a startled laugh. "Oh. Oh, my. I had heard, but to think you would be here. And so we meet at last. How unexpected."

The old Maester would weep long and hard on that cold, bitter night; yes, he wept for quite some time indeed, in the arms of a long-lost princess.


"You work for me now."

Locke narrowly caught the purse.

It was full to bursting, so much so that the mere act of holding it nearly sent the coins spilling onto the chill ground below. Seven hells. There was more money in this bag than he'd seen in his entire life. Lord Bolton hadn't paid him half as much. And the Dwarf merely smiled at him. It was not a pleasant smile. He had the same look about him as those dragons; and in that moment, Locke knew. If he spoke falsely, if he lied, if he tried to fool the Little Lion, he'd have his head on a spike before daybreak. It was not the gold that bought his allegiance, it was that look. That smile. Fuck killing Jon Snow or finding Bran Stark, he'd be lucky to get out of Castle Black in one piece with Mother of Dragons watch his very move.

"Why me?" he croaked at last.

"A little bird told me you're good at what you do." came the ready answer. "We both came from nothing; neither of us are afraid to get our hands dirty. So you're going to help me find the Stark boys. But there will be no reaving. No raping. If you lay a hand on them, the hand comes off. Followed shortly thereafter by your head. Understand?" Behind him Drogon roared and the world shook. Well. That simplified things, didn't it? He wasn't fucking with no dragon. Not even for Roose.

...aye, m'lord." the hunter knelt. "Your will be done."


"I'm just a bastard, Your Grace."

Those keen violet eyes regarded Jon for a long moment.

"No," Daenerys said at last, shaking her head in quiet denial, "I don't think you are."

R&R! =D