Chapter 5

Oberyn POV

Oberyn walked through the halls of the water gardens palace, heading straight to the quarters of his brother. Along the way he passed Areo Hotah who nodded at him in acceptance to pass. Oberyn would never hurt his brother in any way, in fact if necessary the Red Viper would gladly give his life for Doran.

His brother sat in his wheeled chair, his legs long having been crippled with gout, watching the children playing in the water gardens, which included three of his youngest daughters. "Brother." He greeted with a small bow of his head as he stood alongside his brother.

"Oberyn, how was the North?" Doran asked him, keeping his gaze fixed on the playing children. It was a well kept secret that his brother often strategised while watching the children playing in the water gardens.

"Cold and wet." He answered before fixing his brother with a sharp gaze, "And you were right." He told Doran.

"About what?" Doran questioned, sounding like he was barely even paying attention to the conversation but Oberyn knew better.

"About Jon Snow," Oberyn snapped at his brother, while stressing boy's last name to inform his brother that he had learnt the truth. "How long have you suspected that he was the son of Rhaegar?" He demanded.

"So it's true then?" Doran questioned instead of answering, no doubt wondering how this would affect his plans.

"Answer the question?" He demanded again, being careful not to raise his voice to much and gather the attention of Doran's guards.

"Ever since I found out that Ashara Dayne's child was not only a girl but stillborn." Doran answered in the same annoyingly calm voice. "Unlike his older brother Brandon, Eddard Stark has never so much as been in a whore house, the only woman who was ever able to garner his attention was the beauty of Starfall." Oberyn remembered Ashara Dayne, she had been one of his playmates in the water gardens as well as one of his sister's ladies in waiting, so he had known her very well and he had been saddened when she had taken her own life, not that he could actually blame her. She had lost her daughter, brother as well as her sister in all but name.

"Fifteen fucking years," he snapped shocked as he began to pace around the room to calm himself down. Counting backwards from ten he walked straight in front of his brother, blocking his view of the children and for the first time since entering the room Doran Martell looked his brother in the eyes. "Why didn't you ever tell me?" Oberyn knew his brother kept secrets, he knew that better then anyone but the fact that Doran had kept something so important from him for so long honestly hurt.

"Because you are rash and impulsive." Doran answered calmly. "If I had told you of my suspicions about the boy after the rebellion then it would have been entirely possible that you would have raised Dorne in rebellion for him. And due to the fact that the boy is his nephew Lord Stark would be forced to raise the North in rebellion for the boy and the last thing we needed before everything was ready was war."

Oberyn glared at his brother but didn't say anything, because he could picture himself doing just that. Oberyn could still picture himself doing that but the threat Rebekah Stark had given him gave him pause. Oberyn had travelled all over the known world and had met many dangerous people, men and woman capable of committing countless atrocities without a second thought and the Stark heiress matched them all with ease.

"Why tell me now? After all, I can still do what you just said that you feared me doing." He was missing a piece of the information.

"I have been keeping an eye on the boy but over the last few years my eyes and ears in Winterfell have either been relocated, put in insignificant positions, or in some cases killed. By all accounts the same has been done to the Lannisters, Tyrells, Littlefinger's and even Varys' little birds."

"Rebekah Stark." He stated immediately without hesitation. Eddard Stark was a good and honourable man, one of the few that actually existed in this shit world, but he was a fool when it came to the game. The Lord of Winterfell probably wasn't even aware that there were spies in Winterfell, but Oberyn doubted that his daughter was so ignorant.

"I suspected that she might have had something to do with it. Their disappearance coincides with around the same time she started taking an active role with the running of Winterfell." It was well hidden but he could just made out the tone of administration in his brother's voice.

"You admire her." Oberyn stated.

"Respect rather then admire," Doran corrected. "But at the tender age of eleven she has not only successfully built a harbour in the North that has in four years become one of the richest seats in the North but she has also taken an active role in the running of Winterfell, and to a lesser extent the rest of the North. She is worthy of at least some respect."

"She's dangerous," he informed his brother.

"To us?" Doran questioned, his quick mind likely already coming up with a dozen ways to either turn her into an ally or neutralise her. Anyone who thought Doran wasn't dangerous was a complete and utter fool.

"No. She strikes me as a practical woman who looks for allies rather then enemies." Oberyn answered as he poured himself a glass of Dornish red. He wondered if he should tell his brother about the threat Rebekah had given him but he thought against it. He wasn't even sure of Doran's plans for Jon Snow yet. Luckily the girl clearly cared a great deal about her cousin, and would therefore never make a true ally of either the Baratheons or the Lannisters. "What do you plan to do about Jon Snow?"

In response Doran literally shrugged, only to wince slightly as the movement caused his gout to flare up. "For years we have planned to place Viserys on the Iron Throne, but..." His brother trailed off.

"The boy is as mad as his father." Oberyn had actually met the boy, not that the beggar prince had actually known who he was, and he had been completely disappointed and even a little disturbed. It had taken the Defiance of Duskendale and the pressures of ruling Seven Kingdoms to drive Aerys mad but Viserys just seemed to be born twisted.

"Indeed, not even the Targaryens most loyal followers will fight to put a second mad King on the Iron Throne and I would never suffer my daughter to be married to such a monster." Doran spoke with complete loathing. At the time betrothing Arianne to Viserys had seemed like such a good idea, but now it striked Oberyn as the most stupid thing that they had done, apart from agreeing to marry Elia to Rhaegar in the first place. "But there is also Daenerys, what's your view on her?" Doran asked him.

"By all accounts a timid girl who lives under her brother's thumb, but," he paused for a moment, wondering the best way to word his thoughts. "She has a fire in her. Daenerys has the potential to be great but that doesn't mean that she will be great."

"Indeed, everyone thought Rhaegar would be a great King, and when the war started the rebellious houses thought that Robert would be a great King. Both have proven to be bitter disappointments."

"Perhaps that was our problem, believing in Kings." He stated taking a large gulp of his wine.

"You think I should have declared independence." Doran stated in an amused tone. For all intents and purposes Dorne was more of a sovereign nation rather then a vassal of the Iron Throne. The idea had also been suggested by more then a few of their bannermen and they traded more with Essos then the other kingdoms of Westeros. And it was also unlikely that the stags and lions would succeed where the dragons failed.

"It's crossed my mind, and I know that it's crossed yours as well." Oberyn stated as he finished draining his wine.

"Perhaps we would have been better off." Doran conceded, "Perhaps we wouldn't have been. Tell me about Jon Snow." It was not a question but an order.

"He seems a polite and well mannered boy, with none of the infamous Targaryen madness, which makes him better then Viserys." Not that that actually counted for much, their were cut throats in Flee Bottom that would be a better alternative than the second son of the Mad King. "He asked me about Elia, Rhaenys and Aegon you know." His brother only gave a slight widening of his eyes but he could see Doran's surprise. "Along with Queen Rhaella and anything I could tell him about Viserys or Daenerys."

"Not Rhaegar?" Doran questioned.

"The boy doesn't have a good opinion of his father." Oberyn answered with an amused smirk. He would be lying if he claimed that he didn't take a little joy about the fact that the last child of Rhaegar Targaryen didn't want anything to do with the silver prince.

"Good." Doran stated, feeling the same type of satisfaction about the low opinion Jon had for his father. "Will Lord Eddard raise the North for him?"

"Only if he has no choice. Though their relationship is strained Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark are still friends and Lord Eddard lost nearly his entire family to the Targaryens." Oberyn really couldn't picture the Warden of the North being to keen on the idea of a Targaryen sitting on the Iron Throne again. Truthfully Oberyn himself wasn't actually too keen on the idea of a Targaryen sitting on the Iron Throne again, but they were the best of a bad situation. Robert Baratheon was plunging the realm into greater debt then ever before, nearly four million gold dragons from the latest reports of his brothers spies. Also while the Baratheon family appeared secure, they were anything but. Stannis Baratheon had nothing but a sickly little girl that was inflicted with grayscale, while Renly was more interested in sticking his cock into the Tyrell boy, then a noble lady. And the less said about the all so Lannister children of King Robert the better.

"Understandable." Doran muttered, his thoughts clearly on something else.

"What bothers you brother?" Oberyn asked as he drained the Dornish red and started to pour himself another. He offered Doran one but his brother shook his head.

"What do you know of the Euron Greyjoy, Oberyn?" Doran asked him and he couldn't help but actually shiver slightly. While he hated the Lannisters and Baratheons he didn't fear any of them, the Crow's Eye however was quite possibly the only man that the Red Viper truly feared, and it was with good reason.

"There's an old saying about the Greyjoy brothers," he began explaining, "Balon is mad, Aeron madder and the Grow's Eye is the maddest of them all. But he differs from his brothers in one key aspect, he isn't stupid."

"Suicidal?" Doran asked, further increasing the Vipers curiosity.

"Daring." He corrected to which his brother nodded. "Why the sudden interest in the Crow's Eye?" Oberyn doubted it was something as simple as the man targeting a couple of their trading vessels, the cadet brother of Balon Greyjoy rarely targeted such low value vessels.

"Because he attacked Dragonstone." Doran answered, causing him to choke on the wine he was drinking.

"What?" He asked his brother, wondering if he'd misheard. Say what you will of Stannis Baratheon he was an unrivalled military commander, attacking Dragonstone was practically suicide.

"With a small fleet made up of pirates and sellsails, as well as similar tactics that he used against the Lannister fleet during his brother's rebellion, he was able to destroy a large portion of the Royal Navy." That was good news, a weaker Baratheon fleet meant a weaker house Baratheon to kick off the Iron Throne.

"Do you know why he attacked Dragonstone?" Oberyn questioned.

"I don't know the reason why," Doran admitted. "But Euron Greyjoy personally scaled the walls of Dragonstone and killed Selyse Baratheon and captured her daughter Shireen." Doran explained causing Oberyn to wince slightly. Baratheon or not, Oberyn wouldn't wish anyone to suffer the Crow's Eye. Well, maybe Tywin Lannister.

"But there's something else isn't there?" He was still missing a piece of the information, a piece of the puzzle.

"Did you know that Euron Greyjoy delayed his brother's rebellion by nearly four years?" Doran asked again.

"Delayed? Clarify." He told his brother for answers. Doran had been more honest in this one day then he had been in the last decade, let's see if his brother would answer another question.

"Balon was more then ready to go to war after merely six years after the Usurper took the throne, but Euron convinced him to wait, though how he was able to I don't know." Oberyn couldn't deny that was an interesting fact, but also irrelevant. "And Euron also didn't agree with the plan to attack the Riverlands, instead he wished to target the North for unknown reasons."

That was certainly unusual, back then the North was only a step above the Iron Islands in terms of wealth, not comparable to the Riverlands and it was only in recent years that the North was actually starting to amass a comparable amount of wealth to the other kingdoms.

"And the Ironborn raid on the North after the war was over." Doran continued. "Balon may have given the order but Euron was the one who suggested trying to capture Rebekah Stark."

"Do you know what he wanted with her?" Oberyn doubted it was simply to have a valuable hostage to trade for his nephew. Hell Oberyn doubted that the Crow's Eye even cared about his nephew.

"Likely a similar reason to why he wants Shireen Baratheon, though why he wanted her is anyone's guess." Doran answered. 'More questions but no answers,' Oberyn thought frustrated, true the Crow's Eye wasn't actually his problem but if he was bold enough to attack Dragonstone then other Ironborn would follow his example. While Oberyn doubted it would result in another Greyjoy rebellion, it would certainly result in an increase of Ironborn raids, which for the past four years had been practically nonexistent.

"So what do we do my prince?" Oberyn asked, already knowing what Doran would say.

"We watch, and we wait." Doran answered and Oberyn held back a snort. 'I called it,' he thought snide fully. He wondered where Ellaria was, he needed a good fuck to calm himself down.

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Stannis POV

Stannis Baratheon, Lord of Dragonstone, rightful Lord of Storm's End and Master of Ships on the Small Council glared hatefully at the fat lump opposite him that he was forced to call his brother, who for the first time since Balon Greyjoy declared independence had decided to grace the small council with his presence. The years had not been kind to his brother, Robert once stood at near seven feet tall and was once as strong as a bear, a warrior without equal, and possibly one of the most handsome and charming men in the Seven Kingdoms. Now however, he was as fat as he was tall with a massive belly that the seamstresses spent days labouring on clothes to hide, with a large bushy beard that failed to hide his multiple chins, and a flagon of wine was never far from his hand. The Demon of the Trident and the man who crushed the Targaryen dynasty was long gone, replaced by this fat blob.

The remaining members of the Small Council watched the exchange with mixed reactions. Their younger brother Renly watched them without a care in the world, as if a what had happened had absolutely no impact on Renly at all, a fact that nearly threw Stannis into a torrent of rage. His daughter, Renly's own niece, was the prisoner of Euron fucking Greyjoy but his spoilt little brat of a younger couldn't care less, as long as it didn't effect him and his tiny little view of the world.

Varys, the Master of Whisperers, was as stoic and hard to read as usual, though the man seemed to possess genuine sympathy about what had happened to his wife and daughter. Petyr Baelish, the Master of Coin, possessed the same amused smirk that he always did. As long as it didn't affect his brothels and whores the man could care less about what happened to a daughter of some lord. Ser Barristan, Lord Commander of the Kingsgaurd, though much more evident in his sympathy, was a lot like Varys and kept his face stoic and his thoughts hidden, his years serving the mad King had taught him no less. Grand Maester Pycelle looked as old and pathetic as always, looking just about ready to fall asleep.

And finally Jon Arryn, Hand of the King. Much like the King he served the years had not been kind to the old falcon, with most of his hair long gone, as well as many of his teeth, and the man was often plagued with aches and pains. 'The man shouldn't be Hand,' Stannis thought. Yes Jon Arryn was more then competent but he was old, very old. Being Hand to a good king was hard, to Robert the job was damn near impossible and it also didn't help the fact that Lord Arryn also had to handle ruling the Vale, with the only other members of the ancient house of Arryn being a sickly child and some nameless, forgotten nephew.

"What do you mean I am to remarry?" He demanded in a cold voice. Stannis shouldn't even be in Kings Landing, he should be leading what was left of the Royal Fleet to find his daughter, and to put Euron Greyjoy's head on a spike.

Robert let out a loud sigh of annoyance. "You need to marry, you need an heir Stannis. Lollys Stokeworth may be a bit dim but she's a looker, far better then that Florent woman you married." Robert stated with the same amount of tact he always used. 'Another marriage you arranged for me, during which you also dishonoured both me and my wife,' Stannis thought bitterly and very angry. True Stannis didn't love his wife, but she was still his wife and immediately after her murder, his brother expected him to remarry.

"I have an heir." He snapped out through gritted teeth as he glared at his brother.

"A disfigured little girl who's missing and most likely dead." Renly stated as he lounged relaxed in his chair.

"Keep your mouth shut Renly." Stannis immediately barked at his brother, who for once did what he was told and immediately sat up and went silent and Stannis turned to his elder brother. "And what are you going to do to Balon Greyjoy in response to his brother's actions?"

"I'm afraid Lord Stannis is that there's nothing we can do against Balon Greyjoy." Lord Arryn answered instead of Robert.

"And why not?" He demanded angrily. House Greyjoy should have stripped of all their lands, and all the adult Greyjoys executed for their countless crimes in piracy and slavery, instead of being pardoned like those damned Ironborn were innocent.

"Because Balon Greyjoy exiled his brother Euron from the Iron Islands nearly a year ago," Varys, the most mysterious member of the council answered him. "As a result he is in no way responsible for his brothers actions." Stannis couldn't help but grind his teeth at the Spider's words. That was not something that he wanted to hear.

"We've already set out a warning to all lords about Euron Greyjoy as well as placed a bounty on his head." Robert told him. "Do not worry brother, that blasted pirate will be brought to justice."

Stannis simply let out a small bitter laugh that was devoid of amusement at his brother's words. "Half of the Free Cities have placed a bounty on his head, the blasted Iron Bank offers no less then 200,000 Gold Dragons for his capture, dead or alive." He snapped at his brother.

"Well what would you have me do?" Robot yelled in return. "Like it or not Euron Greyjoy is more then likely hiding in Essos at the moment where we have few allies, and that's not the only problem. A third of our fleet has been destroyed and you need to rebuild it. Besides, this event has shown that our family is not as strong as it appears and should the worst happen we need to ensure that the next generation of Baratheons are secure." Stannis hated the logic in his brother's words, both Dragonstone, and Storm's End considering Renly's preferences, needed heirs and even if he found Shireen she couldn't rule both.

"No." He stated and that one word sent shocks throughout the Small Council. After all, while Lord Stannis was known to disagree with his brother he never, ever disobeyed him.

"No?" Robert asked for clarification, sure he had misheard his brother.

"No. I'll wed the Stokeworth girl but I will not abandon my daughter to Euron Greyjoy." He stated in a way that left no room for disagreements. But that never stopped Robert before.

"You are the Master of Ships Lord Stannis. It's your job to maintain the Royal Fleet and handle shipping matters, not chasing renegade pirates around the world." Robert stated but the words meant nothing to him and Robert could see that as well. "You will do your job or I will find me a master of ships who will." Robert attempted threatening but again the tactic didn't work.

"Then consider this why resignation." Stannis stated and he turned to leave the small council chambers.

"Leave this room then I will make Mace Tyrell Master of Ships." Robert bellowed against his retreating form and it almost made him stop in anger. It was a ploy and an obvious one but that didn't stop the a surge of anger flowing through him. Stannis hated the fat flower of Highgarden but in the end not even that stopped him from continuing on his way. 'I promise you Shireen, I will find you,' Stannis vowed.

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Qyburn POV

Maester Qyburn stared at the man opposite him with thinly viewed annoyance. "Consider this matter over, Mr Deron." He spoke giving the man an unworthy glance. The man was a smith from White Harbour that Lady Rebekah had located and sent to the Compound, believing that he would be of use, but it seemed that in this matter she was wrong.

"Now that's not fair." Deron snapped angrily at him. Like most smiths Deron was large and bulky, and also quick to anger, not that Qyburn had any reason to fear the smith, after all attack him and then Deron would be truly damned. The presence of the two guards in his office as well as the four standing outside the door also removed any reason of fear.

"Isn't it?" He asked the man in amusement. "Lady Stark gave you a stipend of silver and gold in order to full fill your task but rather then use that money for its purpose you chose to squander it. If you had spent the money on your family it would be understandable but instead you spent it in brothels and taverns." Qyburn let the silence fill the air for a few moments as the man acknowledged the consequences of his actions.

"And what's to happen to me now then, death?" The man demanded of him, causing one of the guards, a new employment, to twitch slightly. He made a note to keep an eye on that guard, there were many secrets held in the compound and he couldn't risk those secrets being revealed by a wet behind the ears guardsman.

"Your only crimes are incompetence and laziness, hardly anything that will earn you the executioners axe." He reassured he man who relaxed slightly knowing that his life wasn't in any immediate danger.

"That still doesn't answer the question. What's to be done with me?" Deron asked of him.

"I will not suffer your presence in the compound, you can either join the construction workers at Moat Cailin or return to being a blacksmith in White Harbour. It's your choice." He told the man.

Deron was silent for a few moments as he considered his options. "I'll return to White Harbour." He answered.

"A horse and supplies will be provided to you." He told the man who nodded his thanks and then left, leaving Qyburn with his work.

As Qyburn looked over the reports from the latest shippings, he couldn't help but marvel at the success of the new port. It was hard to believe that in nearly four years that the harbour could have been built to such an extent, and while it was nowhere near the size or success of White Harbour, the Stark Harbour was without catching up. But truthfully the Starks needed this harbour, especially with the recent revelation that had spread throughout the North in the past few months. Half the North was covered in mountains, mountains that were now being mined by many of the Northern lords. Mines that was providing large quantities of valuable metal oars, and even silver in the cases of the Umbers and Ryswells, but no one expected there to be any gold veins in those mountains, how wrong they were. And it was the worst possible house for the Starks that found and claimed what was likely the only gold mine in the North. The Boltons of the Dreadfort.

The Lord of the Dreadfort may respect his liege Lord but that didn't mean he was loyal, and if Qyburn's suspicions were true then Tywin Lannister was providing Roose Bolton with skilled miners and workers straight from Casterly Rock itself. Truthfully Tywin Lannisters actions weren't surprising, the Lannisters may be the richest house in Westeros, but the Westerlands weren't the most powerful kingdom in Westeros. Truthfully that honour belonged to the Reach, capable of amassing up to a hundred thousand men along with the largest fleet that existed on both sides of the Narrow Sea. Qyburn also knew the Lannisters weren't happy with the North growing in power, especially the new trading and betrothal agreements between the North and Dorne. Funding the Norths second most powerful house that possessed a history of rising against their Stark overlords was the logical decision.

That was actually one of the main reasons for the orders that Lady Rebekah had given him just before she and her bastard brother left the compound on a ship heading for Seaguard. House Bolton was growing in power and so she had ordered him to weaken their power in the North, something that he was already achieving. Barbrey Dustin, known for her enmity against the Starks would be the first to join Roose Bolton if he ever rose against them. Ramsey Snow, Roose Bolton's bastard son was a safety net for a lack of better word in case anything happened to his true born son Domeric.

Ironically enough dealing with Lady Dustin was actually proving to be easier then Ramsey Snow, as Lord Bolton kept his bastard well protected. Barbrey Dustin was a thoroughly unpleasant woman who despite her many years as being lady of Barrowton had made few friends in the stronghold. It had been unbelievably easy to reach out to the Maester of Barrowton, a man who had been on the receiving end of Lady Dustin's rage more then once, and had no problem slipping a few drops of weak poison into her food, slowly killing her. Ironically enough if Barbrey actually bothered consulting any maester at all then she would be easily cured, but her own beliefs were simply nailing in her coffin.

Dealing with Ramsey however was more challenging and Qyburn had decided to settle for the long game. He sent people throughout the North with whispers of the bastard of the Dreadfort and his infamous actions. It would awhile before the Northern lords were aware of Ramsey and even longer before they were aware of the extent of his actions but sooner or later the entire North would know of him and Roose Bolton would have no choice but to bring his bastard son to justice.

Truthfully Qyburn didn't actually like killing people, it was a necessary evil. After all the North was changing but sometimes in order to usher in the new, the old had to be put to rest. After all, they were hardly the first people he had arranged to be killed and he doubted they would be the last.

Putting down one of the reports he picked up a Raven scroll from Olenna Tyrell. 'Another one,' he thought with exasperation. It was rather well known that he held the confidence of Rebekah Stark and many key players of the South had attempted to recruit him to their own benefit. It was like they had nothing better to do then to play their never ending game of thrones. In fact the only reason he even entertained these ravens was because Lady Rebekah ordered it. Rebekah was fascinated with the Reach and she was eager to gain more information on it, a task she had given to him and a few key others. Rebekah wanted to know the strength of every Lord in the Reach, how wealthy they were, and where they're loyalties lied.

Qyburn didn't understand her fascination with the Reach, true it was practically a power house in terms of military strength but that wasn't the answer. He was missing a piece of information, something the maester didn't know. But he would find out.

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Eddard POV

EddardStark Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North watched in pride from the top of Winterfell at Winter Town, something that in a few decades would become and official city if it's progress and development was kept at the same rate. Ned knew of his reputation as an honourable fool, and while not necessarily wrong he was by no means a stupid man. He knew many southerners and even a few of his own bannermen considered him a fool for naming his daughter as his heir but he would have the last laugh as he knew that Rebekah would be a ruler that the North would be proud of.

Hell, Winter Town was as much proof of his daughter's capabilities as the Stark Compound was. Truthfully it was almost hard to recognise what it used to be. One way that Rebekah changed Winter Town was with a sanitation system, using the hot springs that were located beneath Winterfell and its surrounding lands Rebekah built an underground piping system that washed away all the filth and shit.

But one thing that Rebekah built, something that was truly foreign to Westeros and Essos, was a hospital. A healing house that was open to both the commoners and the Northern lords and it had become famous throughout the North to the extent that Lord Manderly had also commissioned for one to be built in White Harbour. The hospital wasn't staffed by Maesters, in fact according to Maester Luwin many of the Archmaesters of the Citidal had found the very concept of the hospital insulting. In order to fill up the hospital Rebekah had hired a dozen healers from Essos, one of the most skilled of which being Talisa Maegyr. Upon learning that his granddaughter had found a life for herself as a healer in the North, Malaquo Maegyr, one of the three ruling Triarchs of Volantis, had taken a great interest in the North, resulting in a trade agreement between the North and one of the most powerful and wealthy of the Free Cities where before none existed.

But it wasn't just his daughter who had contributed to the development of the North. His goodfather Hoster Tully had found several fruits and seeds from Essos that he had attempted to plant in the Riverlands but the soil was to wet for them so he had instead sent them North. Now many northern farmers grew spinach and cauliflower, and while they admittedly weren't the nicest of foods they helped keep the North fed. Wyman Manderly also contributed, the man had sent a few trading vessels to Yi Ti out of curiosity for the strange land and had returned with a type of food that was fascinating. Rice. While on its own it was rather plain, when mixed with Dornish spices Ned found it to be absolutely delicious.

An urgent nocking at his door startled Ned from his thoughts. "Come in." He called out and Ser Rodrik and Jory Cassel entered his solar. "Ser Rodrik, Jory." He greeted warmly but he immediately noticed the disturbed looks on their faces. "What is it?" He asked, put a little on guard by their expressions.

"There was a message my lord Stark, from Skagos." Ser Rodrik explained, causing Ned to tense. He had tried to build better ties with the Magnars of Skagos but he had been largely unsuccessful, but he had managed to get a representative on the island to try and build ties between the island and the mainland.

"What is it?" Ned asked again, worrying about what the news could be. By the way that the two in front of him were acting it clearly wasn't anything good.

"Your emissary Lord Stark, they've sent us his head." Jory answered.

End of chapter 5. Please review.

Sorry about the lack of Jon and Rebekah but don't worry the next chapter will focus on the two of them.