Master Robb Stark

His wife-man he could not get over how awesome that word was- sat at his side, her hand in his, they were in father's solar, alongside father and mother and Bran. Bran had had another of his dreams, and from the way his brother was sat, Robb knew that things had been bad within the dream. His brother looked as if he'd run for leagues. Robb wondered why his brother was getting these dreams, and what they meant, he also wondered why he hadn't gotten these dreams when both Arya and Rickon had in their own way mentioned similar dreams to what Bran had described. There was a sliver of jealousy there, tempered with relief. He didn't really want these dreams; he was happy just having a connection to Greywind.

Father looked concerned when he spoke. "Can you repeat what you told me, Bran?"

Bran nodded, and in a small voice said. "I dreamed that I was Summer, and that I was running across the godswood, in the godswood sorry, and that as I ran there was a three eyed raven flying beside me. It kept cawing at me and originally I did not understand it, but as the dream continued I understood what it was saying. It kept telling me that I needed to go north of the wall, that I needed to see the things with eyes that were dead, and that were covered in blue. That they were coming and that when they did, if I were not beyond the wall, the wall would fall and everything would fall." Bran was crying then. Mother took him into her arms. "This is the third time I've had this dream, the second time, was when it mentioned that a kraken was taking a stone of dragons, and that stags would die. The first time was when King Robert died."

Robb looked at his father and he knew they were both thinking the same thing. Father had told him what he'd seen at the Wall, just as he'd told Mother. Mother was not sure what to believe, Robb knew, but Robb believed, he'd seen something deep in the crypts as a child that had convinced him immediately of what was happening. Mother spoke then. "Is there no way to stop these dreams?" She was looking at Luwin, and she looked deeply angry, as if it were Luwin's fault.

The old maester shook his head. "I am afraid not, my lady. I have tried everything I know." There was something in the maester's voice that made Robb think for a moment that the man was perhaps not being honest. That disappeared though almost immediately, what reason would Luwin have to lie after all?

"Perhaps I should go beyond the Wall." Bran said then. "I do not want bad things to happen."

"Nothing bad will happen to you, Brandon." Mother said. At a nod from Father, she took Bran out of the room and back to his rooms.

Father looked at Luwin and the maester bowed and left. Leaving just the three of them. "Robb, what do you think?" Father asked, Robb knew his father was talking about more than just what was happening with Bran.

"Obviously, Bran cannot go beyond the wall, if he does that then he will never come back. Whoever this last greenseer is that is mentioned in the books, he is not to be trusted." Robb replied firmly. "I don't care what uncle Brandon says, I won't let Bran go north of the wall. There are other ways of handling what is coming."

Before Father could reply, Myrcella spoke. "Forgive me, my lord, but what is coming? You do not seem surprised by what is happening with Bran or with Arya or Rickon. The fact it is not happening to you Robb, or to Sansa seems to be more of a concern. Why?"

Robb hesitated, looking at his father for guidance on how to answer this question, this was the one thing he'd dreaded explaining to Myrcella. He'd been able to explain the strange noises that echoed throughout the castle at night, by explaining how old the castle was. He'd explained why they'd allowed Theon to return to Pyke despite the obvious conflict of interest with his uncle back, as a means of getting him in charge of the islands. This would be much harder. His father nodded, signalling that a version of the truth needed to be told. "You have heard of wargs, haven't you?" His wife nodded, her eyes wide. "My siblings and I are wargs, we can dream as our wolves. But what Bran, Arya and Rickon are seeing is something else. In the old religion, it is called the sight, they can see the future, the past and the present. Arya and Rickon see it to a lesser extent their visions are never clear, but Bran's, Bran's have been accurate and clear. He saw your father's death before it happened, though he did not know what it was, and he saw the fall of Dragonstone though he did not know what it was. And this, this latest vision, it means something terrible is coming."

He expected Myrcella, raised in the south on the stories of chivalry and the south to laugh and call him mad, instead he was pleasantly surprised when she asked. "What? What could be worse than that?"

Robb looked at his father who again nodded, he swallowed and then said. "The very essence that created the wall and ensured that it could never rise again. Death itself, the white walkers."

"I thought they were just stories?" Myrcella asked.

Father sighed. "They are much more than stories, they are very real, and they are coming. If Bran has seen them in his dream, then they are much closer than we thought originally. We must act now."

"What do you wish for me to do, father?" Robb asked.

"Prepare, you might be required to ride north with me." Father answered. "If not, then you will hold Winterfell."

Robb nodded noting that his wife's grip on his hand had tightened considerably.

Lord Theon Greyjoy

Theon despised the Iron Islands, compared to Winterfell it was a piece of shit in the middle of a sea of turd. The people were broken, the land was barren and the smell was just fucking awful. After his father's failed rebellion, the Iron Fleet had been destroyed, the Ironborn had been prevented from sailing without writs from the King, and considering there were no maesters on the islands, per his father, the people simply sank into poverty. He was angry, angry at his father, angry at King Robert, angry at Eddard Stark, angry at everyone. He'd left Winterfell because he knew his usefulness to Stark was up and with his uncle's return he didn't want to be executed. Yet here he was, and there was fucking nothing he could do. It was infuriating. His own mother didn't fucking recognise him.

His uncle seemed to be the one person who'd maintained some wealth, and that wasn't due to any sort of embezzlement on his part, he'd simply stuck with the rules agreed after the end of his father's failed rebellion. Lord Harlaw had always preferred trade to war, and though he'd lost sons during Balon Greyjoy's rebellion he'd stuck to the trade. Half the other houses hadn't and they'd either fallen into poverty or died as a result. Theon looked at his uncle then and said. "This is a right shit show I have inherited nuncle. How have things fallen this far? We used to be the dominant power in Westeros during the time of Harren the Black and now, now we are all facing extermination. Why?"

His uncle's hair was grey, his eyes were sunken and his face was lined, the strain of ruling for the past sixteen years had clearly taken its toll on him. "Because we did not adapt. Every other Kingdom adapted after the Targaryens came to power. The Ironborn refused. We clung stubbornly to the way of the reaver, and we were punished for it. Before your father became Lord Reaper of Pyke, his father, Quellon Greyjoy had done much to bolster the standards of living in the isles, people paid not the iron price but the gold one. Trade was our currency, and for a time it seemed as though we would actually achieve something. Then Balon met your great uncle, and things went southwards. Balon stopped paying attention to the lessons his father was teaching him, and started reaving and raping. And then Quellon died, and Balon went unchecked."

Theon sighed, there were days when he fucking hated his father, and other days where he wished he had actually gotten to know the bastard. "What was my father actually like? I don't remember anything about him. He always seemed like some sort of distant figure, who was perpetually angry." That was the honest truth, he had more memories about Maron and his lies and his fondness for Euron Crow's Eye than he did his own father. What said about him he did not know. He was not sure he wanted to.

Lord Rodrik did not reply immediately, instead he ran a hand over his face. Eventually, he did reply and the words he said were not encouraging. "Balon was a proudful man, he did not appreciate the changes that your father was bringing, he did not appreciate that the Ironborn could not sustain an Empire during peacetime, or during a time when the Kingdoms were unified. He did not have smarts to ensure that there was division, he was not Euron, nor was he Maron. He was a soldier and that was all he was good at. He was a man who thought that books and words were useless. In short, he was set to ruin the islands from the moment he developed his own opinion."

Theon felt as though there was a crushing weight pressing on his chest, preventing him from moving, breathing or doing anything else. His father sounded like a complete and utter fool. Why had that man been allowed to ascend the Seastone chair whatsoever? "When did my father marry my mother?" Theon asked thinking through this entire thing.

"In 269 A.C. when he was eighteen. Your brother Rodrik was born the next year. Indeed, before he died, your grandfather Quellon was actually planning on nominating Rodrik as his successor, not your father." Lord Harlaw said, seeing Theon's surprise the man continued. "Rodrik was not the man he became when your grandfather was alive, he was kind, considerate and he knew the importance of learning. He despised your father, and preferred the cultured court of your grandfather. It was only when Quellon died, that he adopted the warrior persona that you no doubt know. This was done to preserve his right to the Seastone chair, otherwise Rodrik would've suffered the fate that Maron wished for him. For Maron always was Euron's creature."

"How am I going to fix the islands?" Theon asked his uncle, hoping against hope that the man would have answers. "We are in debt, we are impoverished, and we have no ships worth anything. The lords of the islands are either dying, dead or moving away elsewhere. Where am I going to get the lords to fund the much needed improvements, where am I going to get the actual funds for anything? I see no way that I can manage this."

"There is time, there is a war happening in the mainland, Saltpans fell to your uncle, the royal fleet is not as upscale as it once was. The crown would be foolish not to ask the Ironborn to come and aid them. I would recommend compiling the ships that exist, making them battle ready. Showing signs that you are ready to commit. I would also meet with the lords remaining and look through the books and ensure that everything is in order there. Wasteful spending needs to be cut, remove the serfs, make them pay for their freedom, and other such measures." His uncle said.

Theon was not sure if any of those methods would work, but he nodded all the same and said. "I will try."