Lord Commander of the Night's Watch Jeor Mormont

Jeor barked out orders, the winds where whipping at them, and it was bloody cold, this was worse than anything he'd ever taken part in under Rickard Stark. The chill had come with them, but it had increased as if out of nowhere. Jeor suspected that whatever they were about to face would be worse than the wildlings they'd come to hunt. "You there, move the barricades, prepare the archers." Jeor shouted, whether the command had been carried out he did not know. He heard the horn, one blast, a second blast, then shit. "A third. It must be a joke." No one had seen the white walkers since their supposed defeat millennia upon millennia ago. And now, now it seemed they were here.

Atop his horse, Jeor barked a command. "You, Tarly, send the ravens out." The fat pig of a boy mumbled and got to work on the ravens. Jeor's own raven was cawing and coughing words that made no sense. "Prepare." Jeor roared, as the horn echoed. The creak, and groaning of his men showed how tired they were. They'd been marching for three weeks without a break, and now here they were. On the fist, without a chance in hell. The first body appeared, staring lifelessly at them, it ambled forward. An arrow was released, the body fell and got back up. The thing staggered toward them. "Fire, put some fucking fire!" Jeor roared. The next arrow contained fire, but missed. The beast kept going. The third arrow hit it and knocked it down. It screamed as it burned. But more bodies came.

Jeor barked orders, his horse had started moving wildly, to the point where he'd had to dismount. He slit the beast's throat, and then barked out more orders. The beasts came crawling through the fire toward them. Jeor felt his breath freeze. What the fuck were those things coming toward them? The bodies were burning brightly, and they weren't moving, that much was true, but what was this other thing. The beings with cold dead eyes and the white, white skin. Jeor stood frozen, Longclaw in his hand. The monsters killed his men, and Jeor saw them rise as the dead things. His men stood there staring unsure of what the hell to do. Eventually, he stopped staring and roared. "Retreat." Someone got him a horse, and he did nothing more than touch the horse before it bolted through the drifts and the snow.

As he rode, he heard the screams of his men, he felt shame then. He had fought the Ironborn, he'd killed his first man when he was eight namedays old, he'd killed men during the wars Rickard Stark had waged against rebellious northern lords and he'd killed men during the rebellion. Here he was fleeing from bodies, dead bodies, and he'd left his own gods damned men to die. His shame did not know any limits. He kept going, he didn't stop and turn. Tarly had appeared at his side, or just behind him at one point. "Did you send the ravens?" He demanded, they needed aid. He had a feeling that the monsters would be upon them again.

Tarly was fat, with a beard that made him look even more fat, the boy hadn't sworn his vows yet, a letter from the King had prevented that, but he'd come along. The boy stammered. "I did, my lord."

Jeor nodded and kept quiet after that, deciding to focus on keeping his horse calm. They trudged through the drifts and the snow, and he started to think that coming north had been a waste of time. They'd not learned anything. They knew little other than the villages near the wall were abandoned, and that there were dead things rising. Perhaps that was why Mance Rayder and the Wildlings were moving, but they were moving northwards, surely that would be the stupid thing to do? Jeor sighed, he was too old for this nonsense, but then again, there was no one else who could have led this mission. Benjen Stark needed to remain at the Wall to oversee things, Mallister was not a leader, and Thorne was a pain in the arse. And so he kept going, knowing that perhaps when they got to Castle Black he could ask Maester Aemon about it, the old man knew a lot of things.

Men kept disappearing, he'd heard is as they rode, men disappearing, screaming, crying out for their mothers. Their numbers continually lessened, until the thousands they'd gone out with were reduced to hundreds and then tens of dozens. They'd burned men, said the words and then allowed themselves to consider losing their humanity to the needs of the body. That the men hadn't turned on one another yet and sought to kill each other, he thought was perhaps an inclination of just how terrified they all were. Once or twice, men tried to flee, and Jeor had to hunt them down himself and kill them. He couldn't let there be more deserters.

But by the gods was he tired, Craster's Keep came into view perhaps three weeks, or was it four? He didn't know, but it came into view, and he had never been so relieved to see that shit stain's keep. The man was a monster, and Jeor had suspected for a long time that nothing was quite right with that man. Still the thought of food and a warm fire was enough to keep him going. It was only when the chill and the breeze picked up that he realised what a fool he'd been. There were white eyed monsters approaching, and he saw someone who looked like Craster. He swung his sword, he killed monsters and the dead, but there were too many. His men abandoned him. He roared at the beasts, and killed them, he watched his horse die and rise again as something infinitely worse. He watched as the beasts danced around him. He felt his arms grow tired, he felt his sword drop, he felt the blow and he sighed. He wanted so much to sleep.

King Robert I Baratheon

The letters had been sent and responses had been received, Robert was relieved that everything was sorted now. It still surprised him that his children had grown so much to the point where betrothals and marriages needed to be arranged for them. Still, he supposed that one had to expect such a thing. He rubbed a hand over his face, the hour was bloody late, there never was any rest for those who served a Kingdom the size of Essos. There was a knock on the door and his son and daughter entered, they both bowed before him and then took the seats he gestured to. Cersei was sat by his side.

"I have summoned you both here to talk about your status as regards betrothals. There has been quite a lot of talk about this matter around court, and though I might not always pay attention to what is said, I know that there has been talk about one or two men and women being considered. I will tell you right now, that there were only two candidates I had ever considered for both of you." Robert said. He took a breath to look at his son and daughter, they were both listening intently. "As such, after having received approval from both their fathers, I am delighted to say that you Myrcella shall be marrying Robb Stark, whilst you Jon shall be marrying Margaery Tyrell."

There was a brief pause, then Jon handed his sister a coin. Robert snorted, and Jon explained. "We had a bet at the order of which the betrothals would go. I said that you'd betroth me to Lady Sansa, and Myrcella to Ser Willas."

Robert looked at Myrcella and she smiled. "I said it would be the other way, me to Robb and Jon to Margaery."

Robert laughed. "I see, how interesting. Of course I need not explain the benefits that will come of these betrothals and marriages to you. Both of them shall be coming down to King's Landing before the year is over, to formally meet you and exchange words and vows."

That seemed to surprise Jon. "You mean to say we're going to be getting married at the end of the year?"

Robert nodded. "Oh yes, there is no reason to delay. Whether or not that means you consummate your unions is up to the pair of you." He laughed at the expression on his son's face. "You may leave." Both his children bowed and then left. Robert turned to Cersei and said. "I know you wanted the Stark girl here, but truthfully, I think that Myrcella will thrive in the north. And from what Cella has told me herself, the Stark boy likes her and they've already talked about how they would change Winterfell. Ned has promised to make sure that Lady Catelyn speaks with Myrcella as well when they come to visit."

"I know, I also know that it is better to have a girl who knows how to play the game as our son's wife, than someone who would need to be groomed and taught how to play the game. I just worry that now we have done this, how will things go? Margaery is a sweet girl and smart, her harridan of a grandmother will no doubt accompany her, as will her father. The Tyrells are almost as numerous as the Lannisters, there will be a big grouping." Cersei said.

"I know, and I know that they will try to make some foolish ploy or the other. But they do not have the support that your family does, Margaery will not be able to cultivate anything without it going through you or me. That should be enough to check their power advancement for now." Robert said. He clapped his hands then and the spider appeared from somewhere. Robert looked at the eunuch, he had often wondered in the wisdom of keeping the eunuch around, but he supposed if the man got results it was worth the risk. "Tell us what word you have."

Thankfully, the eunuch's voice did not simper now. It was deep and reflective. "The Conclave of the Faith continue to deliberate between candidates, they are currently leaning toward the female candidate per your suggestion, Your Majesty. As such, I think we should have a result before the year is out and the marriage of His Royal Highness." Robert nodded, that was good. "As for other news, our friend the Archmaester wrote to inform me that the mockingbird has met with him and been given the package as instructed. As such he expects that the mockingbird will make his move before this moon is out."

"Good, you have your little mice keeping an eye on him?" Robert asked, if he could get the son of a bitch then things would be very good indeed.

"I do, Your Majesty, and after his little display the week before, I have made sure to step up their protection." Varys responded.

"Good, I want a report the moment Baelish does as we expect him to do." Robert commanded the eunuch bowed.

"There is one other piece of news, Your Majesty." The eunuch said. "It involves the Targaryens."

Robert straightened. "Go on."

"After some dispute between Khal Drogo and Viserys Targaryen, there was a fight, and Viserys Targaryen killed two of the Khal's bloodriders, consequently, Drogo promised to take Viserys to Westeros, and as such he has made his way with his great Khalasar to Meeren where they hope to gather a fleet to take them toward Westeros. The Khal's wife is also with child, hence the urgency with which he moves." The eunuch said.

Robert digested this information and then asked. "Our informant remains amongst their midst."

"He does, Sire." The eunuch responded.

"Tell him to use the tears that he was given. I will not allow the bitch to have a child." Robert said, he knew the girl was just a child, but another Targaryen in the world would make things far too complicated.

"Yes Sire." The eunuch said. He then added. "Euron Greyjoy was last spotted heading toward Asshai, so we need not worry about him."

Robert suspected the eunuch was lying but he let it pass for now. He waved a hand and the eunuch disappeared, he turned to his wife and said. "You will need to write to your father, tell him what we have learned, and tell him to get Gerion on the case." His wife nodded.