King Jon I Baratheon

The weather was shifting between hot and blistering and wet and cold. It was almost as if there was some sort of changing in the season and the world could not decide what it wanted to be. Today it was bloody cold, he was wearing furs, as were most of the other members of the council. Jon Arryn was still ill, it seemed as though he would fade from this world, but not without a struggle. For the moment Jon did not name a new hand he kept the duties of the hand to himself, and ensured that it was all done, Lancel served as his equerry, Quentyn served as another equerry. He took a breath, looked down at his notes and then spoke.

"There has been word from Oldstones, it appears that due to some cowardice on the part of Ser Cox, the Dothraki now hold Saltpans and with it they have a base from which to stage their operations. There was some sort of scuffle between the royal army and the Dothraki outriders. The outriders were killed, but they did manage to capture one such Dothraki member who spoke of some of what his leader was planning. The Dothraki it appears are going to stage a raiding campaign of the Riverlands to cause tensions between the Riverlords. Indeed, it does seem as if they are attempting to bait me into acting now. I have ordered Ser Brynden to take stock of what has come before him and to make the decision as he sees fit. I would hear from you all on your thoughts. Varys, has there been word from your sources within the Riverlands?" Jon suspected there was more to this, Viserys Targaryen was still at large, and Jon did not know what to make of that.

The eunuch did not reply immediately, but when he did his voice was firm and committed. "Sire, my little birds report that the Brackens are considering leaning toward yourself, whilst the Blackwoods are now considering siding with Viserys Targaryen due to his Blackwood heritage and the fact that he is unwed and Lord Blackwood has a daughter he wishes to marry off. As for other Riverlords, the Freys continue to rely on Lord Walder though he is nearing death with every passing breath. He has said to his sons that he shall remain neutral in any conflict that comes into the Riverlands. The clear majority of Riverlords will not rise for Viserys due to the presence of the Dothraki. The Reach is more of a concern, as far as I am concerned Sire."

"The Tyrells have their bannermen in hand." Renly said.

Jon held up a hand and said. "Let Lord Varys speak, uncle." Jon looked at the eunuch and said. "Go on."

The eunuch continued. "Whilst, as Lord Renly says the Tyrells have a stronger hold on their bannermen than they perhaps did during the rebellion that your father fought, Sire, they are still not completely in control. The Osgreys, the Peakes, the cadet branches of the Florent family, the Appletons, the Cockshaws and others are considering siding with Viserys, for one reason or another, many of them feel that they can gain greater positions of power within the Reach if they do so."

"And what of the cadet branches of the Tyrells?" Jon asked, he had spoken with Lady Margaery about her extended family and the feeling he had gotten from her was that some of them were not happy with her father's leadership and wished for a change.

Renly interrupted once more. "I do not think such a thing is a valid question. The Tyrell family is large, yes that is true, but they have always shared the same interest as the mainline."

Maester Pycelle an old doddering fool, spoke. "That is technically incorrect. During the Dance of Dragons Ser Luthor Tyrell, great-uncle of the Lord of Highgarden at the time sided with the blacks, whilst his nephew Ser Matthos Tyrell sided with the greens. And during the Blackfyre rebellion, the first one, Lord Leo fought for King Daeron, whilst his cousin Ser Michael fought for the Black Dragon. Whilst there might not be as inspiring a figure in the cadet branches of the Tyrells today, there are still those who might consider removing the mainline for their own claim."

Renly looked frustrated, but Jon had decided he'd had enough of his uncle's protestations. "In regards to Viserys Targaryen himself, have your sources managed to find him yet?" The fact the eunuch had not found the man who was the greatest threat to Jon's throne was somewhat concerning.

"I have, Sire. It seems that whilst the Dothraki departed to Saltpans, the pretender and the unsullied have set down for Massey's Hook, how they got passed the guards on the seas I do not know." The eunuch said.

Jon looked at his master of ships then who was quick to say. "None of the men I spoke to reported anything of the sort. They did not see anyone moving and they would have acted under your orders if they had."

"Then one must wonder how they got out and toward Massey's Hook. Being there places them in an interesting direction. They will either threaten Storm's End or they shall go for King's Landing through an indirect route." Jon said.

"Both of which would be very bad for the economy, Sire. Confidence is currently tottering between high and low, and one more hit would do bad things to it." Baelish said.

Jon did not trust Baelish, but he had looked through the accounts and he knew roughly where the fault lines where. And so that was why he said. "Very well, I shall not sit here and wait for something to happen. Pycelle send word to the Wardens of the South, West and East, send word to the Lord Paramounts and every lord in the realm. Tell them their King summons them to do their duty. We shall fight this menace and send it back into the sea."

Master Robb Stark

Robb stood atop the wall and watched as a monster of men and giants-actual fucking giants- swirled below. They came and they charged. When they got close enough he drew his bow and unleashed an arrow. Fire hit them, the logic being that if the fire hit them and burned them alive they would not be able to wake up as a dead thing. So far it seemed to be working. He'd counted twelve dead by his own hand and they hadn't gotten back up. His hands were shaking though, he couldn't believe that there were actual giants around. Greywind growled by his side and he looked down at his direwolf. Greywind looked up at him and then down at the ground below. Robb got another arrow with oil on it, nodded to his squire-it felt having a squire- and watched as flames were placed on it, he drew and then released. He watched as the arrow charted a course downward and then hit someone down below.

His father joined him, Lord Eddard had a bow in his hands also. "You okay?" his father asked. Robb nodded, and then his father said. "You are needed down by the western gate, I shall hold this place." Robb nodded again and took the cage down to the ground. There he was greeted by Bowen Marsh.

"Master Stark, your presence is requested at the western gate, follow me." Robb did as he was asked, following the thin and scrawny steward to where there were other northmen holding the walls of the gate against a probe by wildlings. His uncle was there.

"Robb, do you think you could hold command here. We need more men on the eastern side." Robb nodded and so his uncle left him. Robb was quickly appraised of the situation. There were some thirty wildlings on the other side of the gate with a battering ram they'd made out of wood, and they were trying desperately to break through. Robb had some thirty men here, ten holding the walls and another ten holding pitches of boiling water on the wall to drop on the wildlings. Ten other men looked to him then.

"You have bows?" He asked. They nodded. "Get them ready." Robb knew that he needed to lure the wildlings into a false sense of security he would not be able to do that if they were still trying to batter down the doors. "Knock." The archers did as he commanded. "Draw.", he nodded to the men holding down the doors, they let go and the wildlings stumbled in. "Loose." Arrows came flying passed him and hit the wildlings, some missed, and those that missed meant those wildlings came charging weapons drawn. Robb drew his own sword and cut down two before a third came and managed to cut him before Greywind ate the man.

The doors were open and wildlings noted that and came streaming through. Arrows took care of most of them, but those who survived that onslaught were taken care of by the men with their weapons. And by Greywind. Robb swung his sword numerous times, cutting and culling. It was a bit of a madhouse if he were being truthful, it seemed as though things were going backwards and forwards, as if there was no end to this onslaught of fools. The Wildlings had to know that they could not win. He heard a roar from somewhere nearby, and almost shat himself when he saw a Giant looking near him only to fall covered in arrows, bleeding onto the floor. The chaos continued, Robb kept his wits about him.

The wildlings were brave he'd give them that, he didn't know of any other type of man who would keep charging through one breach after another to fight and die, and be burned alive. They must surely know that they would not survive this fight. The wall, and the number of trained men on Robb's side would have meant that they would never survive. Yet they still kept coming charging, shouting, yelling. There were giants being felled. You could tell when a giant was killed because the ground shook beneath your feet. That was something Robb knew he'd likely never get over. Giants were real, so very fucking real. He wasn't sure why that surprised him so much, after he'd seen the thing in the crypts when he was young, he should've known that the giants were very much real. After learning that the dead could be brought to live, he should've known giants were real, and yet he was still somewhat surprised.

The fighting continued, more people were slain, a few of the black brothers died, and were immediately dragged away to be burned. A few northmen died also and had the same fate given to them. There was unity in how they handled the dead, the wildlings were burned right there and then when they fell, there would be no honourable burial for them. Just a simple burning, it was crude, but effective. And it was also a complete contrast to what they were doing with their own dead. Almost as if they did not think the Wildlings were human. He shook that thought out, there was no point dwelling on that now. As the hours ticked by, the fighting gradually ceased, until they were mainly just taking bodies to be burned.

Father came and found him as the sun was setting, he was covered in snow and dirt. "You are well?" his father asked simply.

"I am. Are you?" Robb replied.

"I am." Father said. Together they walked to the hall for food. "That was a smart thing you did by opening the gates, we got rid of more wildlings that way."

Robb blushed slightly at the compliment. "It made sense, I saw no reason for good men to expend so much energy when we could simply slaughter them in a penned in cage."

His father grimaced but nodded, they got to the hall and the doors opened. Just as they were about to enter, there was a deafening roar. They looked at one another and together they said. "Giant."