1st Month of 300 A.C. The Rills
Barbrey Dustin
She was haunted by dreams, dreams that she knew should not make sense but for her did. She dreamed of her husband dead these many years, slain in Dorne fighting for Eddard Stark, something she had never truly understood, her husband had been friends with Brandon, and had married her to cover up his friend's transgression, and yet he had gone to fight for Eddard, the lesser brother. She had always wondered what her life might have been like had Willam lived, she would not be the dried up husk she was now, but she also would not have reason to do as she was doing now.
Her father was like any other old man raised during the time of Rickard Stark's minority, a fool. "The Tallharts remain under the Ironborn's hold, Ramsay Bolton has done damage to Stannis Baratheon and the Manderlys remain aloof as ever. Now is the time to strike, we must begin making our own way into this war if we are to come out successful."
"Do you not think that there might be a reason why Manderly remains neutral? He has not even declared for Baratheon, and I do believe he executed Davos Seaworth the man's messenger when he came to White Harbour. There is more going on at White Harbour than we think, we would be foolish to do something that could antagonise them." Barbrey cautions.
"Wyman Manderly is a traitor, he bent the moment the Young Wolf was slain, no doubt he had always been planning on doing so. Wyman's friendship with Lord Rickard never went to his sons and as such there was no reason for him to continue once the Young Wolf stopped winning." her father responds.
"Truly? You believe that father? What makes you so sure of that?" Barbrey asks. She ignores the warning look from her brother Roger.
"Rickard Stark and that fat man were thick as thieves, when the lord and his heir died, we got a southern boy, a southern boy who tried to be a Northman. I highly doubt Wyman Manderly ever respected Eddard Stark or his southern children. Hells I know that he did not. The amount of times he would speak of how the north was not being used to its full potential, that Stark was merely a boy playing at being a man. I know he did not care." her father says.
"And what of the rumours that he knows where the boys are?" Barbrey asks. "We both know something happened at Winterfell, and it was not what Ramsay Snow would have us believe. What if those rumours prove to be true?"
"Pah, rumours, Wyman Manderly deals in rumour. He means to name himself King of the White Knife, and he is welcome to it. The north is done as a united kingdom, it is time we took what land we could and made it our own." her father says.
"We were never kings in the days of old father. Where would you be based? How would you convince others to support you?" Barbrey asks.
"I have two thousand men here with me, the Ironborn have barely twenty men in Deepwood Motte. The lands of the Shore and the Point can be easily won. We shall gain allies the more we fight to drive invaders from our lands. We can get support through strength of arms." her father responds.
"And what if others rise up in rebellion? What if a greater force of Ironborn comes calling? What then?" Barbrey asks.
"You think the Ironborn will come here? Pah, whoever their king is, he will not consider fighting for a place he cannot hold. We have the perfect chance here, we shall take it." her father says stubbornly.
"What of the Ryders father?" her brother Roger asks. "They have always looked to undermine us. They have a far better claim to the crown than we do. Surely that would make them wonder at our motives?"
At this her father laughs. "Harlon Ryder has never been an ambitious man, and he is still a slave to me, after we won the bet with his father. He will do as I say and he will make his sons do the same, otherwise I shall see them slain."
"And what of his brother?" Roger asks. "Karlon Ryder is not a man to take being subjected easily. He has long contended our power within the Rills and he is more popular than his brother, he can get support if the need arises. That he has not yet thought to bring them into the war, is most likely because we have not done what you have suggested doing."
Their father snorts. "You are scared of a Ryder? They have not been a power since the days when the Starks ruled nothing more than the hovel that became Winterfell. They have nothing and little less in the way of support, any support Karlon Ryder might think he has, has all been provided by me. Those men and women would do what I told them to and nothing more." their father pauses and then says. "I think there is another reason why you are saying all of this, the both of you."
"And what reason would that be father?" Barbrey asks.
"You two have always looked more than you seem. There was something you were planning with Brandon when he was alive was there not Barbrey? Though I did suggest that myself, so I cannot be surprised. After all, we have always sought more for ourselves then perhaps others would like." Rodrik Ryswell says.
"What are you talking about father?" her brother Roger asks.
"You have long waited to sit where I sit Roger, you have wanted the power that comes with my title, and you wanted it from the moment your mother died. I do not blame you, I was the same. But I cannot allow you to take the power from me. You are not ready." Rodrik says.
Barbrey looks at her father then and says. "And you have been in power for far too long. You are an old man now father, someone who must needs be removed. The north is in chaos, and we are all suffering. The wolves are the only people who can keep this kingdom secure. You will suffer for these reasons, and die the death you deserve."
Deepwood Motte
Princess Asha Greyjoy
Her father was dead, a fall from a bridge they claimed, Asha though she believed there was more to it than that. Her uncle Euron had appeared just a day after her father's death when the Kingsmoot had been called. And now her uncle was king, it was far too convenient. She could not abide by it, seeing that mad man sit where her brother should sit. She did not know where Theon was, but she knew he was still alive, she would feel it if he were dead. And yet, she did not know how she would get to him now, she herself was facing her death. Northmen were coming in great numbers toward her, from the south and from the north, she had little in the way of numbers.
"Princess, surely you can see that we do not have a hope in hell of winning here. We must return to the islands." Tristifer says.
"And do what? My uncle will have me killed the moment I return to the islands. We all know that, I am a threat to him. I would rather stay here and fight than die out there." Asha responds.
"And shall your men die with you as well? What of their families and loved ones back on the islands? What of your brother?" Botley asks.
"My men know what they are getting themselves into. If they want to return to the islands they are welcome to. As for my brother, the only way I can find him is by fighting here. I will not find him if I run to the islands." Asha growls.
"And if you do die here, what then? You know the northern lords would never allow you to live. Fleeing is not cowardly Asha, you can still regroup and live to fight another day. But fighting here against all the odds? That is stupid. And you are not stupid my princess." Botley says.
"Only Greenlanders flee." her cousin Dagon says. "We are Ironborn, salt and iron run through our veins, and we do not flee."
"Then you will all die. And all of this," Botley replies gesturing. "Will have been for nothing. I will not be a part of this madness."
The man goes to leave but Asha grabs him and throws him back. "Where do you think you are going?" she asks.
"I am leaving. You said any man who wished to leave could do so. Well that is what I am doing." Botley replies defiantly.
"You are not allowed to leave." Asha says firmly.
"What?" Botley asks amazed. "Why?"
"I do not accept treason lightly." Asha responds.
"Treason? What treason?" Botley asks.
The whole room is silent then, waiting for her to speak, Asha looks at the man who has claimed to love her since they were children, she looks at him and she wonders if they could ever have a life together, perhaps they could have once. But she has only ever loved one man, and she can never be with him. She does not want to die a slave to her uncle, nor does she want to die here in the north far from her home. So she shall take a middle course. "We shall not wait here for the northmen to come and have us slain, we shall leave but we shall look to go elsewhere. We must find somewhere else to be based for now. We leave now."
With that she turns and leaves the room, she goes to her own chambers and takes her things, what few there are remaining here. She puts on her armour and then takes her axe, and walks out of the room. Her men are there waiting for her, she merely looks at them all before nodding. They walk out and begin the journey toward the ships docked some few miles away. Asha's heart is thumping, she can hear it, and she swears the others must hear it as well. Her breathing is harsh, it is early yet, the sun has yet to come out and emerge from beyond the moon, and so she keeps going, her men following. The woods though are thick and deep, and soon she gets lost, and then the horns sound.
The growls of northmen startle her and her men, but soon they are thrown into the cause of battle, Asha lets her emotions guide her. She swings her axe, forward, backward, doing all she can to keep the wolves at bay. The pack that has tormented her dreams it seems has come to kill her now. She swings her axe and cuts through the foes she knows are massing everywhere, swinging, one man falls, another joins him and then another. It goes on, and on, a bloody process wrought into her through years of practice. She knows this might be what keeps her alive, or sees her dead, and still she goes on. Swinging her axe like a woman possessed she goes on, pushing on toward where she believes the clearing is and their ships wait for them. The thought of getting to her ship and sailing is one that keeps her going through the darkness, the blood guiding her like a beacon.
Her body is taking a pounding, her blood is oozing out of her like the wine she would so like to drink. Gods it hurts, but she goes on, she will not stop and stand there to be killed, she will continue fighting, determined to end what threat there is to her and her men. It seems the northmen are suffering, struggling to bring themselves through the darkness as well, Asha smiles at that and laughs. She laughs as she sees her men fall around her, Botley is gone, a sword through his throat, she laughs as the drowned god beckons to her, she can see Rodrik and Maron laughing, calling to her now, and she staggers toward them, laughing. She is still laughing when another horn sounds, and the sound of hooves reach her.