Ninth Month of 231 A.L. Winterfell

King Donnor Stark

Oh how his body ached, the wounds from the battle filled him with a lot of certainty that he would not make it through the night, and yet still he waited. He waited for his little brother to come home just as he had done for many years before this damnable war, that he had started had begun. As he waited, he thought on the events that had led to this moment, with Harmond Umber dead in captivity, and his son Hoarfrost having sealed Last Hearth shut, Donnor had known that the campaign was over his fate was sealed. He had spent one last day and night with his wife and children, committing their faces to memory and how Serena sounded when she laughed and how it filled him with love to see Randa playing with her mother. Once that day was done, he sent them in the night to the Mountain Castle where he and Lyanna had wed before the war had begun, he had entrusted their safety to Rodwell and he knew that they would make it there safe and sound.

The war had raged for three years now, and Donnor could appreciate just how destructive it had been. The forces of the north were completely depleted and there would be much that his brother would need to do in order to heal the tensions and rifts that the war had opened. The north would take time to heal and to be reunited behind Winterfell and its lord once this war ended as it surely would. After all the battle of the woods had seen to it that the last of Donnor's mounted strength had been crushed by Brandon's men and his allies in the Vale. Donnor had watched as his army had disintegrated against the combined might of Brandon's men and the Valelords. Donnor himself had gotten engaged in a duel with his brother and had received several wounds, all of which were now proving to be fatal, and yet despite it all Donnor had managed to use some of his remaining tactical mind to beat back Brandon and his army, for long enough to organise a retreat back to Winterfell, where he was now being seen to.

Donnor had of course ordered his remaining men to flee back to their homes and had given them permission to do as they see fit once they were there. He knew that Brandon had been hot on his heels and as such, would be in Winterfell within the next few hours, he had had not wish to see those who had followed him loyally suffer needlessly now, if he could spare them that pain he would. He had simply asked for his servants to set up a table with two glasses filled with his father's favourite ale. As he watched them do it, he turned to Lonnel, his long time friend from Wintertown and asked him. "Has there been any word as to where Brandon is Lonnel? Has he come?"

His friend is silent a moment before he replies. "There has been no sighting of him Your Grace. The snows very well might have delayed him, and you know what Lords Dustin and Ryswell are like. More than likely they are yammering in his ear."

Donnor laughed then as winced as pain overtook him. "Aye, that I do. I only hope Brandon does not resort to have to have them sent off before he finally claims Winterfell. After all he was the best of us, those of us that remained after Willam and Artos died." Lonnel was about to protest but Donnor cut him off by saying. "No it is true Lonnel. I fought because I thought the north should be independent and I gave everything I had to that cause, and it brought nothing but ruin to the north in the end. I can see that now. Errold, was always a fool and he died as one. But Brandon, Brandon fought because he had to, because he knew that if he didn't either Errold would win and he would die, or I would win and he would be sent north, or to do the one thing he never wished to do and hurt the one woman he has ever loved. I can admire him for that, still it would be nice if he was here now."

"Aye Your Grace. And there was a raven from Mountainside, from Lord Rodwell this morning. He and your wife and children arrived at the castle safe and sound are doing their best to protect themselves from any future attacks from men loyal to your brother." Lonnel replied.

Donnor nodded. "That is good, when I am gone write to Lyanna and tell her I love her and that I tried. Tell her that Brandon will write to her, asking for Serena's hand for his boy Arthur. Tell her she should accept the offer. It will bring a lasting peace to the north and help win the mountain clans over to my brother. If nothing else I want to leave my brother some form of peace and dignity."

Lonnel nodded and then asked. "If I might be so bold Your Grace, why did you chose this particular ale for you and your brother to drink? Does it have some sort of significant meaning to the two of you? Or did you merely want your last taste of beer to be something sweet?"

Donnor chuckled slightly then and winced once more from the pain. He said simply. "When we were boys, I snuck into my lord father's chambers and took this ale from his table. I had already had my first taste of ale with Willam and Artos many years before this, but Brandon and Rodrik had been hounding me for their own taste of ale, and I knew what a good beverage this particular one was. And so knowing what father was like, I snuck in and took it, and the three of us drank the bottle between us in the godswood and got slightly drunk and we laughed and played. I wanted Brandon to remember those times, for they were better times."

"And I am sure he will Your Grace." Lonnel said.

Donnor grimaced. "I doubt it, he's late, as he always bloody was." And as he trailed off, Donnor Stark closed his eyes, never to open them again. Donnor Stark, Lord of Winterfell and third born son of Beron and Lorra Stark died on the fourth day of the ninth month of the 231st Year after Aegon's Landing, he was thirty three. His brother Brandon found him slumped on the winter throne.

2nd Month of 232 A.L. White Harbour

Lord Brandon Stark

It had been four months since the war of the wolves as it was being called had ended, four months since his brother Donnor had died in Winterfell, and Brandon had entered the great hall to see his brother slumped there with two cups of their father's favourite ale on a table in front of them. Seeing the cups had brought back many a pleasant memory for Brandon, the times he and his brothers had gotten drunk and had chatted like there was no tomorrow, they were good memories, from a better time and he was surprised that Donnor remembered them, his brother had always seemed very disapproving of such behaviour apart from the first time he had gotten the ale for him and Rodrik. Such an act had also brought about more awe and intimidation for Brandon, for it showed that his brother even though he might have been in great pain and agony in his last few hours, had allowed himself no respite from his duties as a lord and king and as such had done all he could to ensure that his people were safe and that Winterfell was left in running order. And the fact that, his last actual act had been to wait for Brandon, only reinforced the view in Brandon's mind at least that in his last few moments his brother had shown that he truly cared, and that despite the fighting between them they were truly beloved brothers and as such Brandon dreaded ever having to go through such a thing again, and it pained him to think that they could not work something out.

Of course since that day, he had been hard at work, making sure that the north was repaired and became whole once more. To those lords who had supported Donnor, Karstark, Umber, Bolton, Hornwood, Glover, Mormont and the Skagosi clans he pardoned and welcomed back into the fold taking some of their children as wards. As for those lords who had fought alongside him from the very beginning he rewarded them with land and castles and some leniency in the way of taxes. But the mountain clans had proven to be his toughest opponent since the end of the war, when news had reached him that Lyanna had given birth to a baby boy, Brandon had feared that the mountain clans meant to keep the fighting going in his name. They had not done so, but neither had they come to Winterfell to pledge allegiance to him, nor had they made any overtures to suggest peace might be achieved through other means. And as such it was beginning to grate on his nerves, and so he had suggested that a betrothal be arranged between his firstborn son and heir Arthur who was now four, and Donnor's eldest daughter Serena who was soon to be five, as of yet there had been no response.

That was not the only thing that was bothering him though, once the fighting had been done, the Valelords had returned to the Vale but with promises to return should they feel that the memory of their beloved Artos Stark was not being done justice. Brandon Blacksnow had left with them, though Brandon wondered why that man had gone to the Vale when he could have been used in the north, and he suspected it had something to do with Lorra, but he said nothing. At present he had come to White Harbour, to meet with and speak with representatives from the Golden Company, to further discuss their alliance. They were sat in the Wolf's Den as to be away from prying eyes and ears. The man standing before him was hooded and his face was hidden by shadow, his voice had a musical quality to it. "Before I lower my hood and we begin discussions my lord stark, I need to give you some news. There has been fighting in the south, Peake, Costayne and other Reacher lords have spent the past year defying the Iron Throne and the throne has since replied. The red apple Fossoways have been exterminated but the rest of the Reach holds its breath waiting for Highgarden to respond. As of yet the flowers have done nothing and it remains to be seen if Starpike will fall."

Brandon looks at the man and asks him. "Why do you tell me this? I already know all about what is happening in the south, and how King Maekar is expending his strength there."

The man said simply. "Our king might require proof of your loyalty and that you mean to hold true to the vows and promises you swore to our emissary before he fully trusts you or can give you the aid you need after the civil war."

Brandon begins to bristle but calms himself down and says. "And how many men would the King expect me to send southwards to die, when we have very few left?"

"No more than fifty my lord. After all the King understands that the north is weak at the moment, he only needs this paltry force to be sent out so that the whole realm knows that House Stark now supports the black dragon, the only true dragon there is." The man replied.

Brandon's eyes narrow then and he says. "Very well then. If I do this for the King what will I get out of it once the King takes the Iron Throne?"

The hooded figure is silent once more, and then says. "A royal marriage, between the king and one of your sisters or perhaps between the king's first son and your daughter Sansa. Either way you shall get a royal marriage out of this deal. Of that I can assure you."

Lord Manderly spoke then his voice soft and warning. "How do we know that this offer will remain true once all is said and done? After all the king has grown up around sellswords, and we all know that a sellsword's word is worth."

The hooded man laughed then and said. "Oh I can guarantee that this will happen." And he removed his hood to reveal a head of silver hair and violet eyes. "For I am the king you have sworn yourself to. I am Baelon Blackfyre, and my word is the law."