Disclaimer: Not the owner, everything belongs to George.

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A/N: I hope you enjoy this chapter, it took a little longer for me to update, sorry. It is the biggest chapter that I have posted, and I am aiming that the next ones will be this length or slightly bigger. The next chapter Robb and Visenya will meet! Thank you everyone who left a review, it always warms my heart to see that you took your time to send me a few words, also thank you for everyone that has followed and favorite too!

There are parts in conversations that were taken from the HBO series, so obviously that belongs to them, I just borrowed it, the same thing with some lines from the books, though the meaning behind them are my own, hahahaha.

Not beta'd.

The translations can be found at the end of the chapter.

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Somewhere in the Narrow Sea – 289 AC

Visenya trashes and whimpers in her sleep, sheets tangling on her legs, hair slipping from the braid she had made before sleeping. Finally she jerks awake, chest heaving, drenched in sweat. Her hands turn into fists, hating the dream she had had. She had seen Daenerys entering a fire pit, whilst Drogo and what she assumes is the child that had been in Daenerys' womb when she had left Vaes Dothrak look on without doing anything to stop her. Drogo had watched calmly, it was almost as if he had been expecting her to do it, earned her to go into the fire.

The brunette shakes her head and wants to gag when she can smell the burning on the wood, though thankfully she can't imagine what Daenerys' burnt flesh would smell like. "That is a lie, because it wouldn't be any different than how it had smelled when Viserys had died burnt by gold."

She gets up from her bed, pulling her clothes from her body and going towards some of the remaining water from yesterday's bath to rid herself from her sweat and the claws of her dream. But it is useless – the smell of something burning doesn't leave her, even after she had changed to new clothes and she understands why it is, she is worried about her friend and queen. The last time she had seen the silver haired woman they had an understanding that they needed someone in Westeros making alliances for Dany before they arrived with the dothraki army and the only person that could make those alliances was Visenya.

Though one of the alliances Visenya had suggested had been something sour that the queen had had to hear – and agree with.

"You dare suggest a house that murdered my family?" Daenerys roars and for the first time Visenya sees the Targaryen temper people were fearful of - though it was when the Targaryens were their calmest that they were the most dangerous.

Visenya changes from the common tongue to their essentially mother tongue – Valyrian "They may have been part of the uprising against your family but it was only after your father murdered two of their own." Daenerys' eyes are angry, the violet color becoming clearer, but Visenya sees that the other woman is controlling herself so that she can finish speaking. "The Starks are one of the oldest houses of the realm, they entered the war for a slight your brother and father made against them, something any of us would make for our loved ones."

Daenerys' shoulder drops a bit at that, hearing her hidden message, that it was exactly what the Martell house was doing, seeking revenge for having one of their own murdered, it was what she was doing for her own house, revenge for what was taken from her, from the parents that were murdered, to her brothers, niece and nephew that too were murdered. She knows it is a good idea to have the Stark's by their side, to have the North standing by them would increase their numbers and would cement her claim.

"They would never support me!" She and Visenya both ignore the shrillness of her voice that seems unnatural in the lilting Valyrian language "Robert Baratheon stands to this day on the throne; he is friends with Lord Eddard Stark, who gave him my throne!"

Visenya smiles at Daenerys claim to the throne "That may be, but Ned Stark's relationship with the King has been thinning, you read the letter that arrived, Ned Stark does not like the state of the realm, of how things are done, he is becoming wroth with his friend for not caring for the realm – it is a matter of time before his honor goes to stand with what is better to realm."

Daenerys scoff, not really wanting to believe in Visenya's words, that woman could be a silver tongue when she wished to be "What makes you say that he will not take the throne for himself instead of helping me gain it?"

Visenya's smirk makes a shiver run down Daenerys' spine, reminding her of how dangerous her friend can really be "Stark's belong in the North, they would never abandon their land." Daenerys nods knowing it to be true, just like the Martell's would never leave Dorne. "But we must be prepared to offer something to them, something no one else would dare offer it."

The silver haired woman gasps understanding immediately what Visenya is propositioning her and turns away from the other woman thinking it through, thinking if it was something she would want to back out of later on or if it was something she would not mind in the future, if it was something the realm could suffer from afterwards. She drops her shoulder, already knowing her answer to the unasked question – hating Visenya a little bit for being so good at envision what needed to be done, but the respect she had for the other woman grows with her bold ideas and – until now – foolproof ways in how to achieve her notions.

"If they stand by my side, the North is theirs."

Daenerys knows that she made the right choice when she sees the gleam in Visenya's eyes.

The brunette smiles at the memory and almost wants to laugh when she remembers the face of her father when she had met with him at the port in Sunspear before she left to Driftmark, going to speak with her grandfather – the quickness of the meeting something that had annoyed her father very much.

"Why are you not going to stay at Sunspear?" Oberyn asks letting his annoyance clear in his tone and she rolls her eyes at her father, now was not the time for him to act petulantly or over protective. She had known that he wouldn't like when she had sent word while she was on the boat for him to meet with her at the port.

"I need to speak with my grandfather. We cannot waste any time, you know this." She hands him the letter Daenerys had written for Monford Velaryon and the document she had written for the Starks. The letter her father finishes quickly, it is with the document that he takes the longest, eyebrows disappearing in his hairline. If it had been in any other situations she would have laughed at his expression especially when he turns his dark eyes towards her, handing both papers back to her.

"Are you sure about this?" he asks her and she nods, he can see in her dark purple eyes her conviction in what she had probably advised Daenerys. He sighs now understanding why his daughter wanted to speak as quickly as possible to her grandfather and then set sail to North – she truly couldn't waste any time, especially with how things were unraveling in King's Landing, something he is sure she is already aware of.

Oberyn shrewdly observes his daughter, her skin was tanner than it had been when he had last seen her, she seemed to be slimmer, but he could tell it was from exercise, tough what worries him are the dark circles under her eyes – she probably had been having nightmares, something that had always been problematic in her youth. "Will you take some of my men with you?" he asks her, almost pleading but she shakes her head with a sad smile.

"You know I can't, father. The crown can't suspect me of having your protection or be under Martell orders, if I am discovered they must believe I am acting on my own, until it is the right time for us to meet." He hates the notion of having her unguarded and he knows she can see it in his eyes as she puts her hand on his "I have secured protection from Braavos and Daenerys sent Losso with me to be mine accompany on this journey." Oberyn looks behind her where the towering Dothraki who is wearing westerosi clothes is guarding the door, he looks dangerous and Oberyn is certain the other man would prove to be a challenge for him to defeat. He did not see the braavosi his daughter said she hired.

"Where is the braavosi?" he asks her and she smirks, the same tilt that his lips turn when he had something under his sleeve.

"He is one of the Faceless." He hisses at her answer cursing himself for giving her his reckless genes, his daughter seems to know the next question that will leave his lips and the one following it "It wasn't as costly as I thought it would be, I needed them to kill one of Cersei's soldiers, one that has become too observant."

"Visenya!" he exclaims not believing his daughter would contract one of the faceless for such a task.

He sighs to not grow angry when she roll her eyes at him "This soldier needs to die or what we have been working for is in risk of being discovered by a Lannister and if a faceless is the one that does the job they could never relate it back to us or our ally" she squeezes his arm "the House of Black and White had interest of their own of coming to Westeros I gave them opportunity, do not worry father."

He laughs a little harshly, but his daughter smiles, nonetheless "I am your father, one of my duties is worrying about you, especially now." She throws her arms around him and he clutches his third eldest daughter to his chest. Her fingers are digging as hard as his are on her flesh, neither wanting to let the other go, not knowing when they would see each other again.

"Tell them I love them and miss them" she whispers in his ear and he nods, still not ready to let her go, a part of him hating himself for the job he thrust into his daughter's hand and the peril he put her in, especially when he will be not there to protect her. She is the one that draws back first "I love you father, I will be alright and I will ensure that Daenerys sits on the throne and we have our revenge."

She remembers how her father's face was closed off, though he had given her one last smile before she boarded to this boat that was taking her to Driftmark. There is a slight knock on the door and she tells whoever it is to enter, relaxing when it is Losso that enters her chambers. "Kisha ray jadosh" he tells her in Dothraki and she nods at his words, knowing how hard it has been for him to trust that his horse would arrive safely onto land and to be speaking the common tongue most of the time, so she doesn't admonishes him for the use of dothraki.

"Hash yer dothrae chek asshekh?"She asks him and sees the way his eyes turn a little brighter in hearing his mother tongue, though he corrects the way she says asshekh and she copies him until he is satisfied.

"Anha zala vannakhoo dothrakh" he answers her and she laughs, putting a hand on his arm in comfort.

"You will be able to ride soon, help me gather our things so we are one of the firsts out of the boat." When she finishes speaking and he is already throwing things on top of her bed for her to fold and put in her bag, eager to leave the boat and the prospect of riding. She cannot but be glad that Daenerys had convinced her on taking someone from the Khalasar for protection, especially now that she left Aegion with her father, with fear of being easily recognized.

Visenya quickens her movements when Losso throws a look over his shoulder, very clearly telling her that he wants to be one of the firsts out of the boat. She finishes her task with a smile amused at the dothraki.

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Winterfell – 298 AC

Robb sits with Bran before the other northern lords arrive in Winterfell. He knows his brother doesn't want to face the other lords, still not recovered from losing his dream of becoming a knight. "I do not know why I must be here, you are the Lord of Winterfell not me."

Robb sighs and puts a hand on his brother's shoulder in a show of support "Because you are a Stark" Robb hears his brother mumbling something under his breath, though he cannot make sense of the words he knows it must be something in the line of the complaining he had been doing since Robb had told him it was for him to take part on the dinner. "Bran, you are a Northern and I will not allow you to hide from your people, you must show that you are strong, as a member of house Stark is supposed to be."

Bran looks at Robb, there is a slight fury in his eyes and Robb thinks it is better than the sadness that he had been mostly seeing in his brother's blue eyes. "You show them you are strong! You are the lord not I! Now I am only your crippled brother, that is all they will see, nothing more nothing less!" Bran yells face red in his rage and Robb moves the hand that was on his brother shoulder to his cheek and Bran snarls – which brings a small smile to Robb's lips.

"You are much more than that Bran." He tells his brother softly yet firmly "You are a good strategist, you are much smarter than you give yourself credit for and you are much stronger than anyone I know. Who can say they fell from a tower and survived?" He sees his brother considering the words, though there is still some doubt in his eyes "You are Brandon Stark, the first from us in controlling your direwolf, a strategist at heart, more fearless than any man I know" Bran's eye are brimming and Robb knows his are too, he doesn't care in not letting the tears fall from his eyes, he needs his brother to understand that he is more than a climber or a would be knight "I am proud of having you as my brother, so do not think you are less than you actually are."

Bran slightly nods at Robb's words and doesn't complain again for having to be at the dinner with the other lords.

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Robb tightens his grip on his chalice, not wanting the other lords to see his hands shaking from nervousness. He needed to do this right, it all depended on this dinner going right and the other lords in believing him enough to be a leader to them all so his father and sisters could return safely home. Bran nudges him and nods to the table, silently telling him to start to speak before the food arrives.

The russet haired man takes a breath before getting up from his seat and is glad to see that table hushes rapidly. "Thank you all for answering to my calling so quickly" he begins toasting to them, they return the movement to him "it shows me that you take your vows seriously." There were shouts of agreement and he continues "The crown has imprisoned my father and now they tell me that I must go and bend the knee to Joffrey Baratheon" he can feel his blood bowling again "and they order me to do so by my sister's writing to show me she is their prisoner!" There are angry murmurs beginning and he feels that his anger is felt by all of the other men "I will go but I will only bend my knee to them when they give me back my sisters and father. The south has forgotten what it means to slight the North and we will show them the force of the North!"

The room erupts in agreement.

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He knows the other lords think him a green boy and they aren't wrong about it. He still hasn't seen battle, though he had slain two wildlings, he still hadn't lost men to battle, but he isn't stupid. He knows what he is doing, he knows what to do for them to win, for him to rescue his family. He looks down at his plate as the Greatjon starts to speak again, he is the only one with the courage to openly challenge his orders and then Robb looks back up with a glare to older man, channeling every wolfblood that runs through his veins.

"Galbart Glover will lead the van" Robb tells him firmly, not caving an inch to lord Umber – not when he is being this disrespectful and Robb thinks it is his way of seeing if Robb is as Northern as the rest of them.

The Greatjon narrows his eye angrily and Robb tenses, getting straighter in his chair "The bloody wall will melt before a Umber marches behind a Glover!" He practically growls and he leans on the table, making Robb bristle indignantly at the show of disrespect. "I will lead the van or I will take my men and march them home."

Robb glares at the other man, eyes resembling the northern blizzard at winter "You are welcomed to do so, Lord Umber" he tells him not raising his voice, but getting up from his seat hands supporting him as he leans over the table "and when I am done with the Lannisters I will march back North, root you out of your keep" Robb can feel his anger boiling under his skin and the agitation going to Grey Wind "and hang you for an oathbreaker."

The auburn haired man hears the murmurs of intrigue at what is happening at the central table but he doesn't dare take his eyes from the Greatjon, pleased to see the anger taking control of the older man and his words seek in "Oathbreaker is it?!" Lord Umber spits going to his feet, the motion so quick he topples his chair and the chalice in front of him, but Robb is not cowered if anthing his blood only gets hotter pleading to erupt in battle. "I will not sit here and swallow insults from a boy so green he pisses grass!"

The Greatjon puts his hand on the handle of his sword prepared to take it out and Theon is the first one out of his seat already taking his on sword, but it is Grey Wind that acts first, running on top of the table and attacking the older man. Robb can feel some of the anger in his veins diminishing as he hears the screaming of the other man, smells the blood his direwolf is making come out of the Lord and Robb thinks he imagines he can taste the blood that it is on the tongue of Grey Wind.

Some sick satisfaction comes to him when he hears Grey Wind ripping something from Lord Umber "My Lord father taught me it was death to bare steel to your liege lord" he speaks to the room without taking his eyes from the Greatjon, "but doubtless the Greatjon only meant to cut my meat for me."

Robb sees the other man looking around the room and making his decision "Your meat, is bloody tough" he tells the room and starts to chortle and Robb follows, he can feel the uncertainty in the room but soon everyone is joining them.

Right there, Robb knows he will not be questioned anymore, not when there is respect shinning in the eyes of Lord Umber.

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"Was it really prudent the way you handled Lord Umber?" Catelyn asks exasperated when she and Robb are on Ned's study, away from any listening ears. Robb sighs knowing that his mother had been at the edge of her seat waiting to ask that question. "You may have offended him and gained an enemy inside of your troops, Robb."

He shakes his head and hears the huff of irritation leaving his mother's lips "I have not gained an enemy but a fierce ally" he puts his wine down and continues before his mother can start speaking and not let him have a word in "I have earned his respect, mother. I was merciful: he only lost two fingers for an act that someone could have ordered to take his life." He holds up his hand for his mother to let him finish "My choice was not made by a spiteful green boy that he thought I was it was a choice of a liege lord they can trust in."

He can see that she still doesn't believe in him "You took two of his fingers! He must feel slighted!"

Robb shakes his head "Mother, you are thinking like a southern lady. This is the North, if I had done nothing than I am weak, if I had killed him I would have acted spitefully. This way I showed them that while I am merciful, though I will not permit them to be disrespectful."

He goes to her when she still seems to want to argue with him, to tell him what he should and shouldn't do and he has to make her see that now she is not the Lady of the house, she is not the one giving the orders anymore. He puts his hands on her arms and gives her a small smile "I know you are worried and you want me to succeed so that my father and sisters return home safely" her blue eyes brim with tears and he softens his features so she doesn't think he is disregarding her "but I know what I am doing, I must trust in myself if I want to lead my bannermen. I cannot have my own mother distrusting me, if that happens they will not trust me into leading them and then we will not be able to rescue our family."

There are tears falling and he tenses and presents her a strong facade. Catelyn puts her hands on his cheeks and smiles tearfully "You have grown, Robb" he can hear how proud she is and draws her into a hug, resting his chin on top of her head, letting her cry on his chest.

He only hopes that she will stop questioning him and trying to make him do things her way. Though something in his mind is whispering that it will be hard for Catelyn Stark to completely let go of the control, it had taken too much of him to convince his mother to not leave Winterfell, to be cordial with Tyrion Lannister, even though they think their family had something to do with Bran's fall.

His mother had been so wroth with him when he extended his hospitality to the small lion, but he didn't have proof that his family was behind his brother's fall and he couldn't blame him for something that it was possible he had no involvement in. After Tyrion had left it had been even harder to not let his mother go to the Eyrie, but he had made the right choice when he had asked Theon to follow his mother and thus they were able to stop her from leaving.

She had been mad at him and he thinks that she still is, with the way she is always questioning him, but he knows he is doing right for his family and he will continue to do so even if it means going against his mother and making her displeased with him.

When she draws back from his embrace, pats him in his cheek lovingly and turns leaving the study, Robb knows that he still needs to keep an eye on his mother, though now he is not sure who to put following her – he cannot have Theon too far from him, needing his friend as an adviser he only wishes he had Jon with him, it would be good for him to have two men that he could trust with his life by his side.

He sighs knowing that he will have a long night ahead of himself, even if tomorrow they start to march, he has to plan.

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The Wall – 298 AC

Jon paces inside the library, knowing that most of the others will not come here. He needs to think, he needs to make a decision, he needs to decide between his family and the Wall. He knows that there are many things in the Wall that he thinks he can come to enjoy, the cold is harsh but he is used to it, he likes the kinship he has with some of the man and at times he thinks he found his place.

Stories of Old Nan are real here, he still hadn't seen wildlings, but he had felt something that it belonged in the stories he and his siblings would receive from the old woman.

His father has been taken prisoner and he knows his father would never try to usurp the throne from Robert or his children, so King's Landing is spewing lies about his father and what is worse is that he doesn't know what happened to his sisters, have they been taken to the dungeons as well, are they being treated well, are they scared, are they alive? Jon can see Arya, her mischievous smile while running through the corridors of Winterfell, or how her eyes sparkled happy to be on the weirwood forest, how she would beg and beg him to show him how to use a sword, or the way she had thrown herself in his arms after he had given her Needle, had his little sister used it to protect herself, had she need use of it?

He tightens his fist in anger at the notion. Then his thoughts go to Sansa, that while they were not close she is still his sister and he is protective of her. He had always been a little annoyed with the way his red haired sister viewed the world, but it was an innocence that he wanted to protect and something tells him that his sister had had a rough awakening in King's Landing. He clenches his jaw, angry at the notion of his sisters being in peril and his father being thrown at the dungeons as a common crook.

"Jon is that you?" Maester Aemon asks inclining his head to the side and taking a seat at one of the closest tables to Jon and the younger man knows that he needs to answer to the Maester.

"Yes, Maester Aemon. Did I disturb you?" Jon asks politely, trying to settle his raging blood, the Maester gives him a small smile and motions to one of the chairs, which Jon takes and with the way Aemon moves Jon sometimes forgets that he is blind.

"No at all, I think you are the one that is disturbed" Jon sighs at how perceptive the blind man is and nods forgetting that the other cannot see, but the silence is enough answer for Aemon. "I imagine it has something to do with your family."

It is put so simply, candid that all of Jon's breath leaves his lips, he tightens his fists thinking of how his father and sisters are in King's Landing, of the heavy weight that must have settled in his brother's arms and the wonder if Bran is recovering. Aemon pats Jon's hand and some of the tension leaves his body "I understand your worries. Once upon a time I had the same worries as you do now." Jon senses that the old Maester is very far away and so he doesn't interrupt "We are all tested at least once in keeping our vows, I myself was tested three times. All of those times I wished I had done differently, but the third time was the hardest, the third time I wished I had been younger and closer to my family."

"What happened?" Jon asks intrigued by Aemon's words, it is plain to see how much it pains the older man to speak of it, but it is almost as if he needs to say it. Aemon gives Jon a sad smile and the dark haired man feels a shiver of fear go through his spine.

"I lost my family at the War of the Usurper" Aemon tells him so sadly and Jon feels a squeeze going to his hand "only two survived, but I wished I knew more, that I could do more for them. I sometimes wish that I had made different choices." Jon looks at Aemon's blind eyes and it is almost as if the other man can read his soul, can read every crease of his face as he continues "Tomorrow you will take your vows, but tonight you still aren't a member of the Night's Watch, your honor won't be on your way to make the choice that in your old age you wish you had done."

It is as if Aemon can feel Jon's insecurities when he still remains silent, so he asks "Jon, did you ever wonder why the men of the Night's Watch take no wives and father no children?"

"No."

"So they will not love, for love is the bane of honor, the death of duty." Jon widens his eyes at the answer but Aemon still isn't finished "You, my boy, do not need to father a child for that type of love, you are a member of a pack, you already have the love that banes honor, honor that will not be tarnished if you go tonight."

"Thank you, Maester Aemon" Jon hopes that Aemon can hear how much it meant for him to hear those words.

Jon gets up from the seat he was in but stops at the sound of the Maester's voice "You are being watched, be careful" he warns, Jon knows this, it had been making Ghost stay on edge "I pray for the old gods and the new that you arrive swiftly to your brother's side."

Jon puts his hand on top of the old man's shoulder and whispers a final thank you, before walking as calmly as he can to his room – not wanting to draw attention to himself. When he is safe inside Ghost is sitting and waiting for him, something in his eyes tell Jon that he already knows that they will be leaving and so the dark haired man begins putting his things away in a bag, waiting until all of the men go to have dinner.

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He knew he was going to be followed, he had thought that Mormont wouldn't have sent Sam, he had felt a kinship with the other man, but he can't be delayed – he won't. He passes through the tricky branch, a few moments later he hears someone not being able to do the same, his curiosity gets the best of him and he looks behind to see that it was Sam that had been victim to the branch.

He doesn't know why he gets down from his horse, but he goes to the three that Mormont had sent after him. He approaches them, not letting Ghost close, in case he needed his direwolf to scare them off so he could leave in peace. They are quick in announcing that they will take him back to Castle Black where he belongs.

His blood boils at it, he doesn't belong there anymore, not when his pack is not safe, not when his sisters are alone in King's Landing, not when his brother will have to deal with a burden that he didn't wish – that Robb himself asked his father to not put on his lap, not when the realm seems to want to tear his family apart and now he doesn't care if Catelyn Stark will have a problem with it, his pack needs him.

"My brother needs me" he growls and he can sense Ghost tensing up from behind him, waiting on orders.

"We are your brothers" Sam pleads with him, but Jon shakes his head.

"I haven't taken the vows, Sam. My family needs me, I will never forgive myself if something happens to them and I was not there to try and save them." He tries to reason with them, but he sees the stubborn glint in Sam's eyes.

The sandy haired male begins "You told me that Castle Black was the only place you belonged -" Jon cuts him before he can say anything else.

"That was before when Arya, father and Sansa were not in peril, when Robb didn't have to take on a burden that he did not wish to, not now that he will only have Theon Greyjoy to trust implicitly. Castle Black was the place I thought I belonged when my pack was safe, but now I see that I always belonged with them." Jon can see the proud smile on Arya's face, as if telling him 'I told you so' and as quickly as the happy image of his favorite sister comes it changes to one of her with wide terrified eyes, face dirty and scared for her life, that visage strengthens his resolve in leaving.

He turns on his heel and when the other two step in front of him Ghost starts growling and he puts his hand on the handle of his sword ready to fight with them if need be, but they realize that either way he will leave – he has the direwolf at his command and he is the best out of all of them in swordfight.

Jon goes to his horse and doesn't look back while he speeds away, praying to the old gods and the new that his friends stay safe in Castle Black, that he reaches Robb quickly and that his family in King's Landing are somewhat safe.

As the trees blur he cannot but think in the words uttered by Aemon "Only two survived" he chuckles finally realizing that the Maester at Castle Black is Aemon Targaryen. If anyone understands what Jon had been going through it would be him, he thanks his gods for putting the old man on his path to put sense in his mind.

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Kisha ray jadosh - We are arriving.

Hash yer dothrae chek asshekh? - How are you today? (Do you ride well today?)

Anha zala vannakhoo dothrakh - I want (wish) to ride.