"Ah, Lady Margaery, how good it is to see you." She turned at the sound of the Queen's voice and saw the woman approaching her. "I must say, I was quite surprised to hear that your brothers were here to broker a betrothal between you and the Stark Heir. I would have thought your family would have sought only the best for you."
She knew the woman intended it as a slight, and watching the man she hoped would become her betrothed face off against her brother Garlan, she couldn't help but want to laugh. The woman was delusional if she truly thought her son better than Robb. However, she would be stupid to say as much to her, "Unfortunately, you know as well as I, that we are at the disposal of our fathers, to do with as they see fit. Like many men in the South, my father wants ties to the North in the hopes of gaining their steel. He would have sought a betrothal with your brother, however, Lady Sansa was there first. Robb Stark seemed the next best option I would assume."
"You forget that someday Joffrey will be king, he will make the North distribute their steel for the good of the realm." The Queen looked pleased with herself, but in reality showed how little she actually knew.
"Wouldn't that be very likely to lead to war?" She asked trying to sound confused. "The king signed an agreement with Lord Stark that all of their resources would remain at the disposal of the North, for them to do with as they see fit. Wasn't it done as a thanks for their aid in winning him his crown, as well as for their help with they Greyjoy Rebellion." She could see the woman start to turn red with anger.
"I seem to remember my grandmother, ranting about what a fool Lord Stark was, for no one is ever made to give up their resources. She felt he could have asked for something much better. However, then your brother started producing steel, and my grandmother laughed for weeks when she realized the North got to do with it as they please."
"When I'm king they will have to do as I say." She heard Joffrey's voice as he came up behind her, and could see the craziness in the boy's eyes, and it gave her the chills. "If they don't give me their steel, I will take it from them." She suddenly felt very unsafe with just herself and the Queen and prince.
"You and what army?" The question was spoken with curiosity, rather than as a challenge, as Lord Tyrion came up behind the Queen, Lady Sansa on his arm. "If Lady Margaery does marry Robb Stark, it is likely her father will call his people to arms to lend the North aid. Hoster Tully has already shown who he supports, and it wouldn't be you. The Vail is run by Lady Stark's Sister. That leaves just the Storm Lands and the Westerlands to fight for you, unless by some miracle you could convince Dorne to fight for you. Even then, you would be outnumbered by the combined Northern, Reach, and Vail forces. Now, you might have stood a chance before the alliance with the Wildlings, but now..."
He then turned to his sister, "Our father spent much time teaching us to be politically minded. I'm sure he would be ashamed to see how his lessons have fallen on deaf ears dear sister." He then turned to her, "My Lady, Lord Stark has called us all to the main hall to see his son off. Might my betrothed and I escort you there." She took the offered arm, glad for the escape from these people.
"I don't like the thought of you going." Her mother spoke as she held her tightly, obviously fighting back tears.
"I'm a squire now, I must go where my knight goes." Arya spoke, trying to contain her excitement. This time she would not end up alone, Jon would never let that happen to her.
"Don't go thinking I'm any happier about him leaving, I would rather keep you all here with me, where I know it is safe." Catelyn spoke as she looked desperately at Jon who was saying his goodbyes to Tyrion and Sansa. Arya knew he was promising them to return in time for their wedding, and she really hoped they would be. "With you two, as well as your father leaving I fear we may never all be together again."
"That wont happen, you'll see, we shall all be home before you know it. Besides, we shall have our wolves with us." There was no way she was letting Nymeria go this time around. She and Jon had both discussed it, and were hoping if they made it to the desert while they were still pups, they would be able to adapt to the heat better while they were young and resilient. However, before that they had a mission north of the wall.
"You know your father would never approve of this." Jon spoke to Sam as they passed through the gates leading north of the wall a few weeks later. He had known all along why his friend had wanted to join him, and while he wouldn't stop him, he also wanted to make sure he had truly thought this through.
"We don't even know if Old Man Craster is even still alive." Arya spoke from the other side of him, having been appraised of the reason for this trip north.
"Gilly said the walkers never bothered them, I'm sure it is no different this time around." Sam spoke, wrapping his furs around him even tighter, "I forgot how cold it got up here."
"Not all of us have the blood of the dragon running through our veins." Arya spoke when they saw the confusion on his face. He hadn't realized until just then how unaffected he was by the cold this time around.
"Aye, but I felt the cold last time." He spoke.
"Last time you denied that side of you, this time you have embraced both the fire and ice in your veins." Sam explained, "You were alway less affected by the cold than the rest of us, much like your sister is now, we all just chalked it up to you having grown accustomed having been raised in the North. However, even men from the north were more affected by the cold when we went on the ranging north of the wall."
"The blood of the Kings of Winter flows through our veins." Arya spoke proudly.
"Aye, and likely lend you some of their strength." Sam agreed with her.
"Good, we're going to need it in the wars to come." Jon couldn't help but agree.
They came upon Craster's just a few days later, and the old man was just as they remembered him. It was a strange feeling to be so appalled by how he treated his wives/daughters, while being relieved to see signs that Gilly was in fact likely in the early stages of her pregnancy with little Sam. Craster was not happy to put them up, but he did so begrudgingly, knowing that if anything happened to Lord Stark's children the might of the north would be brought down on him.
They found out shortly after their arrival that one of the wives was in fact in labor, and gave birth in the middle of the night to a boy. They were all awake when the old man slipped out with the newborn babe in his arms, leaving behind a sobbing, distraught mother. The women were so focused on the mother, that they didn't notice the three get up to follow the old man.
Jon remembered exactly where he was going, so was not surprised when the child was placed on the ground in the middle of a clearing. However, the old man was surprised to find Jon, Sam, and Arya staring at him, swords raised. He sneered, trying to cover for the look of fear that had briefly crossed his face, but the three of them had all caught it. "So this is the thanks I get for letting you into my home..." He spat at them, and Jon advanced on him.
However, it was Arya that spoke, "Aye, couldn't really tell you we were there to save your children, be they daughters or sons, from you." The hatred in her eyes was such that Jon had never seen before.
"Starting with him." Sam spoke from behind the man, and walked toward them holding the babe. "Before you kill him, it might be best to find out what the Walkers did with all the babe's he gave them."
The man moved as though to attack them, but came to a haunt when three dragons the size of ponies flew from the trees and landed in front of them, smoke rising from their nostrils. Their fire was not strong enough to burn a man alive, at least not quickly, but they did still present a terrifying picture. "I will give you a choice Craster, you tell us what we want to know, and I will give you a quick clean death, or you can deny me, and you will become living food for the dragons."
"You were a guest in my home, you would welcome the curse by breaking guest rites?" The man intended to play on his honor, which in fairness was a smart move, but Jon was already one step ahead.
"You offered rites to the brother's of the Nights Watch who accompanied us. However, you turned your nose up at us, and so we never partook...there are no rites were the three of us are concerned." He then gave his best sinister grin, "And even less so where they are." He said, motioning to the dragons.
As if they understood what he was doing, the three let out as mighty of roars as they were capable of. The pungent smell that wafted from the man, spoke of how effective it was. "Now, you've been given your options, what will it be?"
Lord Commander Mormont had traveled with them as added protection, not wanting to be held responsible should something happen to them. The man had been furious when they returned with the headless body, but none of them could care less. How much had the man's decision to let Craster go unchecked damn them on the wars to come?
"Do you know what you have just done? You have broken guest rites!" The man practically spat in his anger.
"My companions and I were never offered, nor did we accept any." He growled back, it was odd, but he swore he could almost feel the fire and
Grabbing the man, he drug him outside, the man likely following out of shock than Jon actually overpowering him. "Did it ever occur to you to find out what he was doing with those children?"
"He was a wildling, he was never bound by our laws." The man spoke as if this was valid enough reasoning.
"Aye, but he added generals to the Night King's with every babe he sacrificed..."
"Folktales meant to scare children." The man spoke out loud what Jon was certain many of the people of the North felt.
"Then explain that..." He said, motioning to the figure tied to the tree with heavy chains. The dead man was one of the brothers of the Nights Watch, judging by the all black clothing he wore. However, he was missing the lower half of his face, making him unable to make a sound to call out to his general and comrades, and his unnatural blue eyes told everyone that his watch had ended.
