Sorry but here's the next chapter! It's a filler but still a chapter.

CHAPTER 3

Winterfell

The lady Catelyn Stark of House Tully was an inherently devout and loving woman. Her faith resides with The Seven That Are One so it would be an understatement when every time she entered the Godswood she'd feel unwelcomed each and every time. Yet, that feeling did not stop her from entering it to find her lord husband to give him some saddening news.

"Ned."

"Cat. Are the kids…?"

"They are fine, trying to name their new companions and learning their mannerisms so they are able to train them easier." Catelyn replied to his unspoken question.

"They enjoy the surprise, then."

"Very much so. Although Rickon is yet to be charmed by the new additions to the family."

"He must be able to face his fears to improve himself."

"Rickon is but five summers old how is he-, never you mind. You Starks are a tough lot, indeed."

"I do not believe you came here to argue about the children, did you Cat?" Eddard asked after what felt like an unending moment of silence.

"No my dear it isn't. I have grave news to share with you."

"Well then…."

"I am sorry to have to give you these news, love but Jon Arryn is dead." 'The words were finally said' thought Catelyn.

She could tell from the look in her husband's eyes that it had deeply pained him to hear these news yet Catelyn was aware there was more to be told.

"Is this for certain?"

"My love, the King himself wrote the message and…" Here she took a deep breath.

"…The King has also sent word that he and the rest of the Royal family will be visiting us in the coming weeks."

A few seconds of silence followed.

"There must be a reason for his Grace's coming." The lord finally spoke after noticing the nervousness his wife emanated.

"No matter his reasons the King will still come. I have since ordered the staff to take care of lodgings for the hundred or so people on their way." The lady answered and with a pause to her stance, she moved towards her husband and laid a hand on his shoulder.

The lord himself placed his opposite hand over hers, staying still as if waiting for something to happen.

PENTOS

"DAENERYS" was heard all over the manse of Magister Illyrio Mopatis of Pentos as a man of three and twenty stomped through the hallways. A girl of five and ten who was being bathed close by flinched and tried to compose herself knowing it was her brother who called for her, expecting him to come by her chamber soon enough. As fast as she could she waived the servants away to their place of wait and decisively got out of the warm water of the tub.

Dany, as very few people called her was nervous. She knew what was expected of her but every time she had thoughts of what was to come this day she faltered. This usually made her brother angry and in turned made her more subdued. She had no one to confide her fears to, not since Ser Darry and the safety he represented that made her into who she now was, without her brother knowing, of course.

To her the servants tending to her represented something she did not like to think about. Freedom. Choice. She knew most if not all of them were slaves that had been sold/bought by the Magister and no one did anything. Their situation in turn reminded her of hers.

Just as Daenerys was done putting on her undergarments, the doors of her room were opened with a force that bellied Viserys' Targaryens lank and fragile form.

Without even acknowledging the servant-girls he came upon his sister with a;

"Dearest did you not hear my calling you or did you choose to ignore the King, eh?" The exiled prince spoke with an edge that his sister knew would end up with a waking dragon sooner or later.

Immediately, Daenerys turned to face her brother, took a peek at the dress he left on the bed, looked back at him and with a seemingly meek voice answered her brothers quarry;

"'Twas wrong of me to make the King of Westeros, to make my brother wait but did you not say that I was in need of remedying my appearance?"

With only a sigh to acquiesce his listening, Dany began to loosened up her stance and thought to be safe from his wrath, but with a quick if not harsh movement of his empty hands, he immediately acted.

*Slap*

The so called King had indeed slapped his own sister.

"Do not give me cheek my dear. You know damn well you are to respect your betters. Am I clear?"

"Of course Viserys, forgive me for the disrespectful behavior that I showed you." Truly, calling her brother his given name instead of his "title" was the least that she could do to show off the little respect she held for him.

"Very well. The dress over there should make your body stand out so that the Khal does not disappoint. Well, put it on! I want to see how you look."

"Yes, my king."

Winterfell

Lysara Snow was carrying on a very important task designated only to her. No one but Sara could do this, after all it was her duty after acquiring her companion.

"Come on Ghost! I know you can do this, you've already done the other commands so…...Sit!" Indeed, she could be seen to all, how she began the training of her direwolf pup: Ghost. She was one of the last of the Stark children to do so but what she lacked in timely manner, she outshined in enthusiasm. Although to many she will look to be quietly speaking to her faithful friend, those who truly knew her were aware that Sara was indeed quietly enthused.

"My, my, Lysara are you not supposed to have finished with the training of your wolf a sennight ago?You have been slipping on your diligence, eh." came from behind her. Sara having heard the steps coming towards her did not give any indication that she heard the bane of her existence; Theon Greyjoy, talking. After a close encounter with the Greyjoy heir that left both of them reeling at each other way back when she was three and ten, Lysara had come to the decision to never be alone with Theon without any form of defense if possible.

"I had duties to attend to Theon, you wouldn't understand how long it takes for that to be done especially when I have to do it everyday on orders of the lady Catelyn." Sara responded after only a few seconds.

"I have a feeling that is not the only thing you do but even so it's not like you are anyone important to have to learn how to run a household or become a maester. And even so Robb as the heir having many more duties than you, he still made time for...what was his name? Oh yes, Grey Wind and for the whorehouse if you can imagine. What is your excuse?"

"None of your business, my lord. Now if you'll excuse me I have tasks to tend to." She spoke none too slowly as she bumped hard into Theon's shoulder.

Later that evening, whilst Lysara finally finished with the training she tried not to think on Theon's words. Robb was not hers, could never be hers, it was forbidden for them to be together. She knew in her mind she was doing the right thing by ignoring the heir of Winterfell but try to reason with the heart, it only wanted to be with its other half. Gods was she jealous of the news Theon brought her. Someone, even if that someone was a whore, was showing Robb what she imagined was immeasurable pleasure and she was left with nothing but a broken heart. The only comfort she held was that she was the one who held his love.

And indeed she did.