Maester Luwin was not one to show open concern, but over the last few days he couldn't stop it seeping through. Young Brandon Stark had become obsessed with the old ways, pouring over any scrap of information they had. There was not much to begin with but the little lord was determined. Luwin was no fool though. He knew it had something to do with the nightmare Bran had three days ago.

The maester had try talking to Osha about but she either dodged the question or flat out refused to answer. Yesterday she had been even less friendly then usual towards nearly everyone in the castle.

Sighing Luwin continued on his way to the young Stark's room, determined to find an answer to this strange situation. Arriving he knocked on the door which was slightly ajar already.

"Come in" Bran's voice called out.

Luwin pushed the door open to see even greater piles of books and parchments scattered around the room. Bran was at the desk with a pen in his hand, scratching away at a piece of paper while a large book was laid open at the top of the desk.

Bran turned around from his work to see who it was. "Maester Luwin. Is something?" his eyes widened. "Is it Robb? Mother?".

"No, we have not received word of anything like that" Luwin waved his hand dismissively as he stepped over the arranged piles. "I wish to talk to you about your current… behavior."

Bran looked confused. "Is there something wrong?"

Luwin sighed. "That is what I want to know. My lord, you have barely left this room in the last few days and in that time you have filled with half the library. I know this has something to do with the dream you had. I merely ask you trust as you've always done and tell me about it."

Bran remained silent for a minute as he put the quill down and shuffled himself so he was facing Luwin.

"The dream I had was…. Was similar to the one I had the time…. The time father died. But this time it seemed to be telling me about the battle Robb is waging in the south, and that… the White Walkers are coming from the north" Bran surmised, staring at Luwin with expression that sought acceptance.

Luwin merely nodded. "I see. Was there anything else to the dream?"

Bran leaned over the desk and grabbed the book. He held it open so Luwin could see the picture of people dancing round the weirwood.

"Near the end, when it felt as if I would be frozen to death. It all melted away. Then this woman appeared in the godswood." He pointed at the picture. "She looked like these people. The Children of the Forest. She told me she would protect us".

"I read about them" Luwin said, recalling his own lessons. "When I was studying to be a maester. Records say they all died".

"Osha told me that wildings have different stories" Bran said as put the book back. "She told me that the Walkers sealed the forest people away."

"It is possible…." Luwin paused for a moment to think about what to say. "You believe this dream was a warning then? And that this forest woman represents a way out?"

Bran nodded. Luwin took another step closer to see what the boy had been writing. It appeared to be the Old Tongue on side and a rough translation opposite it. The maester's eyes drifted back to the book showing the forest people.

"I see you are not one to wait for clarity on omens my lord" he pointed out.

Bran frowned. "I lost my father last time. I will not wait around to lose my family and home."

"How do you know that this is the correct course? That your actions will just lead to the same event happening?"

The boy's gaze did not falter when he replied. "I do not. But I have to do something".

The likelihood of any of this being true is slim… but there is something about this boy, and something more about the whole Seven Kingdoms Luwin reasoned. No harm in going along with it. Besides, we may even discover a lost race.

He came over to Bran's side and knelt down. "So what have you been translating?"

"The border of this picture if filled with words from the Old Tongue" Bran pointed them out. "I think it's some kind of prayer".

"What do you have so far?"

"Spirits of hearth, spirits of home, embrace your children once more. Let them sing of wood and rain. Let the heart be free of pain" Bran recited.

"Hmm. A prayer seems right" Luwin leaned over some more. "But you've only managed half the inscription".

Bran frowned again. "It's an old language… and they spell things in a funny way!"

Luwin smiled. "Here, if you're set on this wild path then at least do it properly". He pulled over the book and started to inspect the writing.

"Now I believe the next line starts with 'We call'… hmm it's a bit faded on the next word but common sense would say 'upon', pass me the dictionary young master Stark" Luwin asked.

Iron Islands. Castle Pyke

Theon was pacing the hall he had been ordered to wait in. He had left Robb's camp almost immediately after the decision to seek out allies and was able to arrive at the outlying island Harlaw in the early hours of yesterday. After he confirmed his lineage, he was brought straight to Pyke to meet his father, Balon. The reunion had not been heartfelt.

"Well my boy… you've grown tall" Balon said when Theon had entered.

Theon fell to one knee and bowed his head. "Father… it has been too long".

Balon made no response to that. The lord of House Greyjoy now had grey hair and whilst he had been somewhat thin before, he now appeared gaunt with a hardened face. Balon had black eyes which added an air of suspicion to the way he surveyed a room.

"Stand my boy" Balon commanded. As Theon stood Lord Greyjoy took a step closer towards his son. "Nine years… how did you escape the Starks?"

Theon blinked. "I er… I did not my lord". This earned a narrowing of eyes and a raised eyebrow.

"That is to say that… I was released, by the new Lord Stark, Robb" Theon quickly added.

"Ah yes… the King of the North" Balon said, slightly chuckling as he said the last part.

"And I hear you are now a king too" Theon pointed out.

Balon began to pace around his son. "Our people have always been separated from the land-born Theon. By sea and by tradition. What right does some blonde-haired, bastard child have to dictate our actions? Our way of life?"

"I agree" Theon said remaining still.

"It seems King Stark agrees as well… though the fact his father's head now hangs on a pike may be more of a factor in his recent decisions". Balon chuckled again "Can't say I completely hate the royal brat for that though".

Theon clenched his fist at his side but remained silent. Balon took a deep breath and walked to the end of the hall where a stone chair was set. It was both the literal and metaphorical seat of House Greyjoy.

Balon sat down and motioned for his son to come closer. "So boy… what message did the Stark heir give to you? Don't bother denying it; I doubt you would have left their 'protection' otherwise without killing a bunch of the bastards".

Theon gritted his teeth "Robb Stark is offering an alliance. That we support each other in our bid for independence from the Iron Throne."

"Does he now?" Balon sounded unsurprised, and uninterested.

Theon continued "The Lannisters may have enough contenders already but they still have a large army and retain a lot of control. It's only a matter of time before they direct some forces towards your raids".

"But if I give support to the Northern mobs, they can press further inland and keep the Lannisters busy, is that where you are going?" Balon asked, a slight smirk appearing on his face.

"We have no holdings on the mainland or any allies among the lords" Theon stressed. "I understand if you do not want to help Robb Stark, but at least you can remove the possibility of another enemy".

Balon nodded. There was silence for a few minutes, and then Lord Greyjoy abruptly stood up. "Give me the night, and you will have your answer tomorrow"

Theon bowed as his father passed by. Not long after some servants came to show Theon to his rooms and serve him dinner. The castle was relatively quiet. He did not lie to himself that he was angry at how his arrival had been so casually received. No local lords had arrived, no one had seemed particularly happy. Even Theon's sister, Asha, was nowhere to be seen. Although it had been nine years and both were quite young since they last saw each other, perhaps she had been nearby and they just didn't recognize one another?

This morning Theon had received word from his father to wait in the main hall for his arrival. Still pacing, Theon began to get angry at the lack of attention to what some people might consider a serious situation.

The doors opened, but instead of his father Theon saw a young dark haired woman with a narrow face stride in. Her hair was short and she wore a leather tunic and trousers, there was a small dagger strapped to her side.

She stopped directly in front of Theon and stared at him for a moment. He then noticed she had a familiar set of black eyes.

"Asha?" Theon gasped.

"Theon" she replied rather calmly but a small smile appeared on her face.

Theon leapt forward and hugged her. Asha returned the hug, though only with one hand and she kept her back straight.

"My you've certainly changed" Theon laughed.

"Well… for a time I was considered to be the only heir left to House Greyjoy when you were sent to the Starks". She smiled and took his hand in her own "But now, here you are again."

"We must talk when the situation allows" Theon insisted smiling at his sister. "I take it father sent you for me?"

Asha nodded. "Yes, I'm to take you to the bridge connecting to the Gatehouse". And with that she turned on her heel and began striding away.

Once more Theon could not help but feel as if something else was overshadowing him. The fact was that while he knew his father to be somewhat aloof, he was oblivious to the analyzing looks of a younger sister he only wished to know.

As they moved through the castle into the interlocking bridges and walkways which substituted the roads on other islands, Theon felt a sense of calm wash over him. Despite the good treatment of the Starks, the North was not and could not be his home. Theon reveled in the whipping winds and the smell of salt they carried. He enjoyed the sounds of the waves lapping against the cliffs. He enjoyed that at last, he was home.

They soon reached the bridged connecting to the Gatehouse. Balon was there along with several other lords, all of them dressed for sailing.

"Ah my boy" Balon said, holding out his arms but as Theon approached they soon fell to the sides. "These are my most trusted advisors and bannermen. We have been discussing the proposition of Robb Stark and have decided".

Theon felt his heart begin to pound. "Yes my lord?"

Balon's eyes narrowed as a wicked grin came across his face. "Given that Robb has taken the majority of his forces south, and the grievances his House have heaped on us. They will be no alliance, or peace."

Theon felt his eyes widened but kept his face calm. Balon continued "I have several fleets ready to begin large raids across the North's coast… And I want you at the head of it".

This time Theon felt his jaw drop. "B-but father… is it wise to…?"

"Are you questioning me? Your own flesh and blood?" Balon's voice grew darker.

"N-no my lord" Theon bowed his head.

Balon sighed and took a step closer, placing his hand on his son's shoulder. "I understand why this may be difficult. But you owe the Starks no allegiance, you were taken as a prisoner. Now you can return as conqueror, as victor! I am glad you have returned to me now son, our family is whole again so we may carve out a dynasty!"

Theon felt his heart beating painfully against his chest. The shame of it was that he liked what his father was saying. Despite the trust Eddard and Robb placed in him, Theon was always kept apart given his position as ward/hostage. Not only that but he was finally being offered a chance at glory, at making a name for himself.

Theon looked at his father smiling at him, then to Asha whose face remained impassive. Which family do I forsake? He thought to himself as Balon urged him down the bridge and towards the ships.