Chapter 16

Notes:

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of objectification of women, also mention of staged spousal abuse. Also, there is some general typical ASOIAF / GOT violence.

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

(Winterfell – Great Hall)

Robb Stark sat in the seat of the Lord of Winterfell, at his side stood Ser Kevan Lannister, ostensibly the royally appointed advisor to the acting Lord of Winterfell. In truth, Ser Lannister was aware of future events and was designated by his brother to help mitigate potential issues. However, much of the knowledge given by the visions was currently useless.

"My young lord," Kevan spoke softly, "I believe we are done with petitions for the day. Maester Luwin has some letters to review in your solar, and your lady wife has asked you to make time to meet with her for a midday meal in the Godswood."

Nodding Robb stood, "What will you be doing with the rest of your day?"

Kevan chuckled, "I need to help my wife and sons settle into the keep. Lancel and his brothers will take postings as you see fit my young lord. Dorna will help your lady wife with her duties of course."

"Have Lancel report to Jory, we need a new guard captain with Ser Rodric going south with Father and Jory taking his place as a master-at-arms. I will think about Willem and Martyn." Robb frowned, "Ser Kevan, what became of your family, in that other life?"

Kevan's smile faded, "Nothing good. Lancel lost himself to the Faith, not his fault though. He'd been dragged down by Cersei. Instead of treating him as kin, she used him for her own twisted desires. Joffrey may have ordered your father's death, but it was by Cersei's will and my son's unknowing hand that Robert died permitting such to come to pass." Kevan swallowed hard, "It is also a mistake to think the future we bore witness to was the only possibility. I know Lancel had three possible deaths, first beside me when Cersei destroyed all those who opposed her by destroying the Sept of Baelor with wildfire, he fell to a monstrosity Cersei sent to kill the High Sparrow, and while I did not see it, Tywin told me he fell to the Others. As for my other boys," Kevan grimaced, "Willem's fate never seemed to change. Killed by Lord Karstark in the place of Jamie, in one vision Martyn died with him instead of their cousin Tion. In all others, Martyn's fate is that of his mother and sister, trapped within The Rock as the Others swarmed it. Either torn to pieces or slain and raised to join the ranks of Wights."

Robb grimaced, "I cannot say for sure they will not meet the same fate, but we will not make it easy on the Others this time."

"Nay, that we won't," Kevan patted the younger man's shoulder, "now off with you, it is not proper to keep your wife waiting."

(Winterfell – Barracks)

Lancel knocked on the door to Jory Cassel's quarters, the current master-at-arms of Winterfell had retired to his quarters for the midday meal. Movement from within the chamber preceded the door being opened by a red-headed woman in a tabard with the Cassel coat of arms. The woman glared at him, if looks could kill he'd already be walking with the Stranger.

Swallowing hard Lancel gave a quick nod in greeting, "I am Lancel Lannister, my father told me to speak with Ser Jory."

A gruff voice called from within the room, "You can drop the Ser, not a knight like my uncle and old man. Osha, let the poor lad in." Stepping back from the entryway the woman let him pass, as he entered he recognized the former Captain of the Guard sitting at the table, a bowl of stew was set before him, along with two others.

Lancel gulped, "If you are expecting a guest, I can speak with you at another time."

"Just my cousin Beth, she should be passing Young Rickon off to Lady Marge and be along presently," Jory motioned to the chair that didn't have a bowl sitting in its place, "have you eaten?"

Lancel was about to politely decline as he sat, but another bowl was thrust onto the table roughly by the redhead named Osha, "Not yet, but this does look appetizing."

"Osha knows the easiest way to a man's heart is through his stomach," Jory smirked, "and that's not just with food."

Gulping Lancel accepted the spoon handed to him before focusing on Jory, "Father was not clear on why I was to meet with you."

Jory nodded, "We're short-staffed, and it might be a couple years off, but winter is coming. We know it and we'll feel it before those grey rats down south think to send the white ravens. I need to focus on training our soldiers if we're to be ready to march on the Others. So, I need a Captain to supervise Winterfell's guards."

Lancel's Lannister pride began to bubble up as he realized this was the reason for his summons. He was the son of an unlanded knight, true Kevan was the brother of Lord Tywin, but that left Lancel's future murky. As a member of the paternal lineage, he'd always have a home at The Rock, unless his uncle or his uncle's heir granted him a keep. His income would only consist of whatever wealth his father left him, and a stipend if he remained in service to his House. Lancel was far enough up the family tree to know the Lannisters were hiding the fact their wealth was finite.

The door to the quarters opened and a young woman with red curly hair entered wearing breeches and the tabard of house Cassel. She placed a spear next to one already resting by the door before shucking the heavy cloak adorned with the crest of House Stark worn by most of the guards. The young woman huffed, "Osha, I'm going to need the sewing kit," as she turned Lancel noticed a large rip along the outer seam of her breeches, "Shaggydog led us on a right awful chase after a poor rabbit."

"I thought you were staying within the walls," Osha stood to collect a box from a shelf and moved to help the younger woman. Lancel could mistake them for mother and daughter if he didn't know Osha was Jory's wife and a Wildling, and Beth was Jory's cousin.

Beth had not noticed the company yet and was already moving to unclasp her belt to remove the damaged article of clothing for repair, "We were, the little pests have found a way under the walls and into the courtyard with the glass gardens. I let Old Nan know, and she said she'll have Hodor look for their tunnel."

Jory grunted, "Cuz, we have company, perhaps you'd step behind the screen before changing your garb."

Beth reddened as she took note of Lancel's presence, "Pardon Ser, I did not see you there." Osha grasped the younger woman's arm and pulled her behind a changing screen. After a moment she emerged to grab a dress lying on a nearby trunk before disappearing behind the screen once more.

A few moments later both women appeared, Osha carrying Beth's damaged breeches. The women came to the table and took their seats, Osha setting the damaged clothing and sewing kit aside. As they sat Jory made introductions, "I do not know if the two of you have been properly introduced. Beth, this is Lord Kevan's eldest son Lancel Lannister. He was a squire to the King, but Baratheon purged many of the Lannister relatives from his court before departing Winterfell."

"My cousin Tyrek remains in his grace's service," Lancel swallowed, "but Ser Barristan's experiences with the visions made him uncomfortable having me remain close to Robert. Uncle Tywin and father understood the reasoning, and I am to remain in Winterfell with my family."

Beth smiled at him, though the embarrassment of nearly undressing before him was still evident by the blush on her face, "It is a pleasure to meet you, is there a reason you are meeting with my cousin?"

Jory chuckled, "We were just getting to that when you made your entrance," Jory turned to Lancel, "Don't think this will be an easy task lad, you're young and Northmen are not keen on heeding orders from Southron followers of the Seven."

"I understand," Lancel nodded, "but one's faith should not be a hindrance in their ability to ensure the safety of this castle and the people within."

With a nod Jory swallowed another bite of stew before responding, "Agreed, I had no animosity toward Lady Catelyn. Didn't agree with her treatment of Jon, but wasn't my place to speak against her. Your father is the acting steward and probably will be for the foreseeable future with Poole down south with Lord Stark. If any of the old greybeards give you gruff, just lean into your First Men heritage, remind them Lann the Clever was right there with Brandon the Builder giving the Greenhand grief."

(The Crossroads)

Sansa looked to the burnt remains of the old Inn where her aunt had drawn her last breaths. While it was claimed bandits had done the deed, Sweet Robin had whispered to her the truth. It was the Lannisters who had removed Lysa's madness from the world. Sansa had sworn the boy to never tell another soul, and before they had gone their separate ways a few days past, she had reminded the boy about his oath. Robert Arryn might miss his mother, but he was old enough to realize now her treatment of him was wrong. Kevan Lannister had saved many lives with the simple swipe of a dagger.

"My lady," she turned to see Aegon approaching, Ser Loras at his heel as a guard, "what about these ruins disquiets you so?"

Sansa smiled sadly, "My aunt Lady Lysa Arryn died here. Bandits attacked a few days before His Grace set out for Winterfell. I know she was a horrible person, caused so much suffering, even murdered her own husband."

"She was still family," Aegon nodded, "were you close?"

"Never met," Sansa scoffed, "I do not mourn the woman who died here, but the girl my mother spoke so fondly of. Though, I do not know if that girl ever truly existed. Mother's stories seem to have been idealized recollections, she was far too naive."

Aegon nodded, "Naivete is sometimes a blessing, to be able to ignore the harshness of the world. Unfortunately, we were not born into stations that permit such things." Aegon held out his arm, "Let us leave the dead to their rest, the living are far more interesting."

Sansa smirked as she took his arm and allowed him to guide her away from the charred remains of the old Inn and Tavern, "How so?"

"What was that you were telling me Loras, about the butcher's boy?" Aegon looked to the knight who'd moved so he was walking just behind them.

"Ser Clegane took the boy as a page," Loras mused, "pardon the language my lady, but the Hound's words are lacking without his colorful vocabulary. His exact words were that Gendry and he were shit at cooking, so he needed a page who could so they'd not starve."

Sansa smirked, "Is that the boy Jon and Edric found Arya and Bran playing at Knights with along the riverbank yesterday?"

Loras nodded, "One and the same my lady, when they brought them to your lord father, he called the Hound. They talked in private, probably something to do with the visions our fathers had I'd wager. The Hound went off to talk to the Innkeepers and next, he was seen riding off and back with a young mare from one of the horse farms nearby."

"Hope it gets use to the smell of direwolf quickly," Aegon chuckled, "Lady Lyanna, four of her pups, and Lord Dayne's Whirlwind are a sight to behold, but even trained warhorses have trouble when they are on the prowl."

At Sansa's side, Lady whined drawing her attention, she stroked the direwolf between her ears, "It's not your fault lesser beasts tremble before you. They are simply jealous."

"Yes, jealous is the word," Loras scoffed, "jealous of jaws that can crush a man's skull and the strength to rend armor with those paws of theirs. My lady, you have but to think it, and Lady will decimate your foes. At this moment I am but a decorative statue."

"A very handsome statue," Sansa remarked, before turning to Aegon, "are we going to watch the Hound and Gendry train the poor boy?"

Aegon shook his head, "No, I was only using that as an example of something interesting that has occurred this trip. Cousin Robert and Lord Stark rode out this morning together, a bit of hunting and talking. Cousin Robert wishes to ensure the wounds in their friendship have been truly mended before we reach Kingslanding."

Sansa mused, "Father is not one to hold to grudges, he has always been of a forgiving nature. His Grace's treatment of Jon and his plan to name you his heir would be enough to mend whatever wounds might have remained."

"It is pleasant that we are afforded a longer courtship than your brother and Lady Margaery. There is much that we both must learn of each other as well of the roles that we will one day take up. Connington's tutoring of the past year is not from a man who truly ruled, though he did lead men into battle. His teachings were filled with his idea of what being king means, but I have witnessed a true king, though he is known as a Magnar." Aegon looked ahead of them seriously, "Lord Stark may not think it of himself, but he was the worthier choice among the men who took up arms against the madness of my grandfather and father to take the throne. He puts the good of his people before his own desires."

"He would argue that he was selfish when it comes to Jon," Sansa rebuked, "he believed he was committing treason by raising him. He expected the Spider to learn the truth and for His Grace to raise banners against the North."

Aegon nodded, "I spoke with Robert about why he did not simply tell Lord Stark that he knew Jon's parentage, or at the least suspected it. If he had, then my brother could have lived a better life, and Uncles Doran and Oberyn would have kept quiet on the legitimacy to protect Jon. I am sure your lady mother would have been less hostile believing him to be an illegitimate nephew."

A frown came to Sansa's face, "What was His Grace's reasoning?"

"He wanted Lord Stark to tell him the truth," Aegon sighed, "he said when he realized Jon's true parentage, he realized he'd lost Lord Stark's trust in him as a friend and brother. He hoped given time he would regain that lost trust, and he would know this when Lord Stark trusted him with the truth of Jon's actual parentage."

Sansa smirked as she spotted her two elder brothers in attendance approach, "Perhaps it was best the secrets were revealed in this manner. A private conversation between Father and His Grace in a place where the memories of the past clung so strongly. I also believe our mutual brother has never been one for desiring fame or recognition."

Jon stopped in front of them with Edric at his heel, "Aegon, good day."

"Brother," Aegon smirked, "if you are looking for Selmy he rode off with Cousin Robert and Lord Stark. I believe they intend to hunt."

Edric spoke up, "Pardon your grace, but it was our sister we sought." He looked to Sansa, "Mother politely requests your presence. I believe she wants to go over what is expected of a princess of the realm with you and Princess Daenerys."

Sansa noticed that both boys were armed, and Jon carried a second sword. Aegon had taken note of this as well. Sansa grimaced, "There is more to this than you are willing to say?"

"There have been a number of outriders joining the column since we passed the Twins," Jon lowered his voice, "Your uncle warned that Walder Frey might have had designs on offering a betrothal for your hand now that Robb was wed."

Aegon glared as he took the extra sword and affixed it to his belt, "I've heard the man has enough spawn to field an army, but he would not be mad enough to attack a royal party."

"Considering the bastard butchered Robb and a whole host of Northern nobility in the visions," Edric scowled, "I wouldn't put anything past the weasel."

A glare came to Sansa's face, "Given that Uncle also set aside plans to appease Walder by taking one of his granddaughters as a wife, and instead, he intends to bridge the divide with the Iron Born." Sansa looked back to the burned ruins, "Add that the bandits that burned the old tavern and inn have never been captured."

Aegon turned the group towards the wheelhouses, "I will see to Lady Sansa, Jon see that Lady Arya is safe, and then quietly pass along the line that as the crown prince I request everyone be armed until we are safely in King's Landing."

(The Twins)

Tion Frey followed his father and brothers into what had been their grandsire's bed chamber. Black Walder lay on the floor, a dagger in his kneck. A trail of blood led back to the bed where Walder Frey lay motionless and pale against the blood-drenched sheets. The Maester of the Twins sat in the chair next to the bed, old and withered as he was.

Standing next to the bed was Sir Stevron staring blankly at his father's body, "What is the mood downstairs brother?"

Tion's father Emmon swallowed tightly, "There are whispers that you sent poor Walder here to speed up Father's meeting with the stranger," Emmon chuckled, "I don't give much credence to such rubbish. Mostly the Crakehall brood that is doing the whispering."

Stevron nodded before looking to his brother, "Have my grandson's body moved to his chamber, let it be known he was checking on his grandfather when he came upon an intruder. The man who killed our father and my grandson has been dealt with, he leaped from the window into the river below."

"Of course brother," Emmon motioned for Cleos and Lyonel to move their cousin's remains.

Tion followed to ensure the servants did not observe. Once in Black Walder's quarters, they laid him on the bed before removing the dagger from his neck. Cleos examined the dagger, "This one of grandfather's?"

Lyonel shrugged, "Who knows, Uncle Tywin just said to make it look like an internal dispute. It wasn't hard, just insinuated grandfather was going to disinherit him for his behavior. Then just had to slip that old fossil a cup of fortified wine, you know how belligerent the old bugger got when he was in his cups."

Tion looked at the list he carried in his pocket. Tywin had sent his nephews to the Twins carrying letters to their parents concerning certain matters. In particular, he desired their mother to attend Cousin Cersei's trial in the capitol. Beyond that, he felt that House Frey could do with a bit of pruning. Tion agreed with Uncle Tywin's assessment when they arrived to learn their grandfather was scheming to kidnap one of Lord Stark's daughters and put into motion events to force the girl to be wed to one of their family members.

Hours later Tion found himself at his mother's side. Genna Lannister spoke soothingly, "Accursed is the kinslayer, but you and your brothers have not killed anyone."

Fighting had broken out in the great hall as different branches of the family began to assail one another. What had started out as heated words had swiftly become thrown fists before castle-forged steel was brought out to play. Tion and his brothers had been closest to the doors and been able to beat a hasty exit.

The door to his parents' apartments in the Twins opened to admit Emmon, "Father?"

Emmon sighed, "Stevron was wounded, but Ryman took the brunt of it. The Maesters are still sorting through the wounded. Ryman is the only confirmed casualty of our branch of the family. Stevron wants us to depart first thing in the morning, I've already dispatched Cleos and Lyonel to recall those blasted outriders father sent to kidnap one of the Stark girls." The balding man shook his head, "Damn fool, all he'd accomplish is feeding those blasted wolves, and no doubt feeding the rest of us to their masters."

Genna sighed, "He was a prideful man, he was sure Edmure would be easier to ply into a betrothal now that his father's health forced him to step aside as Lord Paramount. How did he learn Edmure was planning to take the daughter of Lord Greyjoy as his wife?"

"A letter from an unknown sender," Emmon scoffed, "he apparently had been ranting about it for days. Complaining about the Fish passing over good decent people for the squid's whore of a daughter. Rumor has it she…"

"Do not continue that thought Emmon," Genna scolded, "whatever rumors have been spread about the girl, she will be the Lady of Riverrun. It will be for our benefit if we stay close. Cleos has two sons we can position as suitable husbands if the squid girl gives Edmure daughters."

Emmon scoffed, "That doesn't give us any ties to Riverrun."

"It would bring the Frey closer to the Tullys than they have been in generations," Genna mused, "and we would be ostensibly poised in the case the squid girl cannot produce a male heir. Edmure's children would come before any of the Starks."

Tion looked to his mother, "That only matters as long as the Others don't turn us all into soldiers in their army of walking dead."

A humorless chuckle came from Genna, "Leave those blasted things for your uncles and Lord Stark to deal with. Between Tywin's military acumen and Lord Stark's knowledge of his ancestral foes, I have little doubt what the outcome will be." Genna got a gleam in her eye that Tion had long learned to know meant his mother was scheming, "It is our job to ensure when the dust settles that our family is in a strong position."

Gulping Tion knew his mother was not referring to House Frey. She may carry the name of his father's house, but she would always consider herself as part of House Lannister, so much so that nobody openly called her Genna Frey. Tion sighed as he stood, "I will make sure Jeyne and the boys are ready to depart at first light."

(The Sunset Sea)

Asha Greyjoy watched as her potential betrothed won another game of dice against her uncle's crew. While gambling was not forbidden on the ships of the Iron Fleet, it was discouraged especially against a green-lander. A little-known fact about the Ironborn was their horrible luck when it came to games of chance. When playing against another Ironborn their mutual unluckiness would counter out, and the better cheater would win.

"I have never known Edmure to do so well in games of chance," Caitlyn Tully formerly Stark said eyeing the group of gamblers, "They are not setting him up are they?"

A smirk came to Asha's face, "No," she pointed to her uncle Victarion sitting across from Edmure, "There is no cheating on board Uncle's ship. Any of them try and he'll send them straight to the drowned god." She noticed Harlaw the Reader speaking with Lord Bracken and Lord Blackwood. Edmure had been up half the night talking with her uncles and his banners on the particulars of how to approach her father.

She then noticed Theon at the bow of the ship, her brother would be the heir again, as she would be taken to the Riverlands to wed the heir of House Tully. She knew the welcome he would receive on Pyke, their father was a shadow of the man he once was.

"Ship on the horizon," the lookout called down from the mast, "House Greyjoy colors, Aeron's standard on the prow."

"Damphair?" Asha frowned, "He never leaves Pyke."

Victarion stood and began shouting orders. It did not take long for Aeron's ship to come alongside and the priest of the Drowned God easily walked from one ship to the other across a plank. Asha noticed the crew of Aeron's ship was solely made up of his acolytes. A manic smile came to the man's face when his eyes landed on Theon, "Nephew, as the Drowned God told me in a vision, you have been restored to us."

"Brother," Victarion stormed over to the priest, "why are you here?"

Aeron pulled a damp parchment from his robes, "Our dearest brother received this notice, we believe it was the Crow's Eye who sent it. How he learned of such things is unknown, but the information appears to be true. It claimed Lord Edmure would return our nephew and in turn would take our niece. The blood of the Iron Islands would once more rule the land of rivers."

Harlaw took the parchment, "This is not Euron's hand, I taught the godless cur to write. This had to have been someone at the gathering at Winterfell, very few knew our plans."

Asha frowned as she looked over her uncle's shoulder, "I recognize the hand, it is Lord Bloodraven's, he said there was a man on the God's Eye he wished to send word to. I have a letter I was to take there personally."

"A greenman?" Edmure frowned, "We do not commonly see them. Even the lords who've gone to retrieve saplings to restore their godswoods have not seen them."

Asha shook her head as she pulled the unsealed letter from her jerkin, "Not a green man, but someone who retreated to the island years ago in shame. He did not give me any other details, only that we would need his strength in the coming years."

Theon looked to Damphair, "Uncle you said the Drowned God gave you a vision, was it like the vision The Reader had?"

"The Reader and I have not spoken of his visions," Aeron mused, "he has never been as devout as I, but the Drown God must have had his reasons for gracing your uncle with visions."

The Reader sighed, "Let's not get too caught up in semantics, regardless of the distance the Drowned God is one of the Old Gods. Hells we acknowledge the Storm God as opposition to the Drowned God. I spoke with Hightower he believes they both were among the gods of Sea and Sky his ancestors worshiped alongside the Children of the Forest native to what is now the Reach."

"Possible," Damphair nodded, "it would explain why the boy had the looks of a Stark and the man wore the regalia of the Night's Watch. The Drowned God must have summoned them from the halls of the dead to warn of the approaching doom."

Asha noticed Caitlyn frowning at the mention of a boy with the Stark looks. Harlaw had informed her the boy was most likely Brandon Stark, or more informally called Bran, Caitlyn's son. Though the boy from the vision was older and far more subdued than the energetic child they saw clambering about the walls of Winterfell. She imagined the boy would enjoy a year at sea climbing the rigging of a ship.

Later, in the quarters she shared with Lady Caitlyn, the older woman questioned her, "What exactly did the letter say?"

"It was a warning, just as much as the visions had been I'd wager," Asha smirked, "It said Theon's return was a gift, and that squandering such a gift would lead to a horrible fall. Only through bridging the divide and ending old hatreds may we survive the coming evils."

Caitlyn sighed, "My brother taking you as wife will bridge some of the divide. I only wish there was some way to undo the damages I caused."

Asha shook her head, "You cannot dwell on the past Lady Tully. Sometimes things are irreparably broken. I'm sure you've heard the rumors about me. They say I've slept with every man on my crew, and if they don't please me I slit their throat and toss them overboard."

"Yes," Caitlyn looked at her grimly, "I've heard such rumors."

A snort came from the only daughter of House Greyjoy, "They are false of course, Uncle Euron started whispering them after Father banished him from the Iron Islands. I have two men on my crew I would consider my lovers, but neither was worthy to be my husband, and neither took my virtue."

Caitlyn frowned, "I would never take you as a maiden."

"True," Asha sneered, "I haven't been one since I was sixteen. I was on this ship serving my time and learning from my uncle in commanding a crew. We were raiding Lyseni Pirates around the Stepstones. We struck one of their bases, a system of tunnels they'd used since the days of the Crabfeeder. I got separated from the others. A Lyseni sailor cornered me," Asha picked up her axe from where it leaned against her cot, "he was big, fat, and smelly, that is the most I remember. Other than waking up in Uncle Victarion's lap swaddled like a newborn babe with that man trussed up like a suckling pig. Uncle restrained himself to let it be my axe that sent that pig to whatever gods he believed in."

She noticed the look on Caitlyn's face, the expression said much. To a woman raised like Caitlyn Tully, it was uncouth for a girl to act in ways deemed manly pursuits, and some green-lander ladies would claim Asha had been asking for such a thing.

So it surprised her when Caitlyn's expression softened, "I am sorry such a thing happened to you. For such a long time I thought ill of Lady Lyanna, it was my anger over what happened to my betrothed Brandon. I was not kind, and when stories of her being abused by Rheagar and his knights began circulating, I thought it the gods' punishment for her acting so willfully. It was only upon seeing the grief of Ned and Benjen that I remembered she did not deserve to suffer."

"Though, now you know she was not abused," Asha sighed, "and instead you treated her son poorly. Would you have treated him any differently had you known he was Lord Stark's nephew instead of his son?"

"I'm not sure," Caitlyn answered honestly, "yet the time to learn that has long passed, and as you said we must not dwell on the past." Caitlyn shook her head, "What kind of welcome do you believe we will receive at Pyke?"

Asha shrugged, "I would not expect a warm one, but with Theon looking like a true Ironborn again instead of those fine garments he walked around Winterfell in, Father will no doubt be more welcoming of him. Edmure needs to remain focused and firm in speaking with my Father, he cannot have you whispering in his ear. Have Bracken and Blackwood flanking him, you need to stand behind them and remain silent unless addressed, the Ironborn look down on women, especially those from the mainland. When Mother approaches you, follow her from the chamber, and the two of you will discuss the particulars of the union. She will then take what you have agreed on to Father, and will announce the joining of our houses."

Caitlyn frowned, "I thought you said the Ironborn look down on women."

Chuckling Asha smirked, "Ironborn men in the majority can neither read nor write, such things are considered cravenly endeavors. The Reader is in the minority and nobody would ridicule a man with my uncle's reputation at sea. In truth, all contracts between our houses are arranged by the mothers, wives, or daughters. Even my mother arranged her own marriage to my father through discussions with my grandmother."

"Your father must still have some say in the matter," Caitlyn countered.

Asha shook her head, "As customs dictate, he will acknowledge Mother has arranged for the most advantageous match with the best outcomes in regards to dowery and brideprice." Asha smirked, "Fair warning, my mother may seem like a grief-riddled shadow of a woman, but she is still a Harlaw. She will not back down, regardless if I'm considered damaged goods."

(Trident)

Ned sat across from Robert at the small table set up for their midday meal. They'd spent the morning hunting, but Robert was still out of shape and while he'd eased off drinking himself into an early grave he was a long way from becoming the Demon of the Trident again.

"What's got your nose out of joint Ned," Robert was looking at him suspiciously, and he gave him a questioning look, "Don't play the fool, doesn't suit yeh. Besides, I know that look, something has been running more laps around that head of yours than your living breathing symbol has been this clearing. You thinking a boar is just going to appear out of thin air and gore me?"

"No, and the only reason you failed to kill that boar was the strong wine your squire had plied you with," Ned growled, "Considering all that was going on, it was a shite time to go hunting regardless."

Robert chuckled, "So you and Barristan keep telling me. However, we've headed off that problem, or Lord Royce did by sending Mya with that letter. You sure it was wise to send her back to the Vale with your nephew," Robert paused, "Er, well your former wife's nephew."

Ned nodded, "The Redforts will be more ashamed of their son's actions. I made sure the letter to Lord Royce contained the exact accounting that Aegon and Gendry said to you and it was the same when they repeated the account to me. She is to remain at Robert Arryn's side as his attendant while Lord Royce is the head of the Lord's Declarent and acts as Robert's regent." Ned paused, "And regardless of Caitlyn and my separation the boy is still my nephew. He is the cousin to my children after all."

A nod came from Robert, "Next time you communicate with Lord Royce, tell him he has my blessings to look for potential matches for Mya, I will be legitimizing her and her brothers as Baratheons when we reach the capital. Aegon was quite clear that either I do it now or he would upon his ascension to the throne."

"It will be beneficial to the stability of your house," Ned frowned, "any word on what your brother's plan?"

Robert sighed, "Stannis will remain lord of Dragonstone, but his daughter will not inherit that seat. Our line of succession is a mess, but I have long been aware of my youngest brother's proclivities. He will not sire a child. Shireen will inherit Storm's End, and her firstborn son will take the Baratheon name. If she fails to have a son, Gendry or his son will be her heir, followed by Edric's line, and then Mya's."

Ned sighed, "Tywin and I have spoken, and I will be fostering Tommen in the Tower of the Hand. When he is six and ten, he will go to The Rock to learn from his grandfather what is expected of his heir."

"What does our Master of Coin have to say about being passed over," Robert took a drink of the watered wine they'd been served.

Ned snorted, "He is unsurprised."

Scratching at his chin Robert hummed, "That Mormont woman, Dacey, that horse lord has been using their proximity in the column to ride at her side. He asked Jorah for her hand yet?"

Ned grits his teeth and hopes Robert doesn't notice his irritation at the implication. Khal Drogo was not a simple barbarian like many Westrosi believed him to be. The man was intelligent and used how most city dwellers viewed his people to his advantage. That wasn't to say the man was not violent and capable of cruelties. Jorah had told him of the gold crown Drogo had given Viserys in the world of the visions. Drogo had easily deduced the worst-kept secret in the North, and in fact, had approached Ned in regards to staking a claim as Dacey's husband.

"Jorah has not said anything as of yet," Ned forced out, "but the man's intentions are clear."

(Three Nights Earlier)

Ned was seated in his tent going over letters that had reached them. The fact the column moved so slowly permitted messengers to catch up to them. They'd just reached the crossroads and would be here for a few days to allow the horses to rest before making the final push to King's Landing.

The sound of a spear tapping on the ground drew his attention to the entrance of the tent. The guard on duty spoke up, "Lord Stark, Lord Jorah Mormont, and Khal Drogo to see you."

"Let them in," Standing Ned took a breath and focused himself as the two men entered. Jorah gave a respectful dip of his head while Drogo knelt and set an object wrapped in sheepskin in the space between them, "What's the matter, is something wrong with the Princess?"

"No Lord Stark," Jorach chuckled amusedly, "Daenerys is with your daughters and some of the other young ladies admiring the night sky, the gods are putting on quite the show tonight. Meteor shower."

"I see," Ned frowned at the object on the ground, the skin was fresh, and blood and pink skin revealed it had yet to be treated. A fresh kill, "What brings you both here then?"

Jorah worked his jaw before clasping his hands in front of him, "My Lord, it has come to Khal Drogo's attention that Lady Dacey is unwed, and it is custom among the Dothraki to approach a woman's male kin before making their intentions known. I am Dacey's cousin and the only male relative in the Mormont line available as my father is otherwise occupied leading the Night's Watch. Drogo realized that the Mormonts are Dacey's mother's family, and custom dictates he must seek approval from her father's lineage."

Ned's eyes narrowed into a dangerous glare. Drogo easily realized why Eddard was angered with Jorah and stepped in between the two men, "Jorah did not reveal his cousin's connection to you Magnar. If one has eyes and a brain, then they should realize."

Focusing on the Khal, Ned motioned to the object on the ground, "What is this?"

Jorah spoke as Drogo removed the fresh skin from the object, "It has been more generations than we could count since a Khal approached a Magnar to seek the hand of one of their blood." As the sheepskin was removed a carved wooden head was revealed. Eddard glared at the effigy of Euron Greyjoy the Crow's Eye. Jorah continued, "He cannot promise you the swords of his khalasar, as they have been promised to fight the Others. Yet he can promise you a life in exchange for Dacey's hand."

Ned realized the need for fresh skin, the sheep's blood had been transferred to the carved head. The wooden head of Euron Greyjoy looked like it was bathed in blood. The man had eluded Ned's blade during the Greyjoy Rebellion and smartly stayed out of Ned's reach ever since. Walking to his desk he picked up a steel hand axe, "If you bring me Euron's head, you'll have my blessing. It'll be Dacey's choice, if she refuses the match you leave her alone unmolested."

Drogo nodded, "Of course Magnar."

As the man gripped the axe, Ned put him in a chokehold with the axe's blade poised at his throat, "If she does agree you will not treat her as a broodmare. Harm her and what my ancestors did to the Red Kings will pale in comparison to what I do to you."

Unable to speak due to a lack of air and the blade of the axe, Drogo tapped Lord Stark's arm to signal his understanding. Upon being released the Dothraki grinned as he regained his breath, "A quiet wolf indeed."

Jorah grimaced as Drogo checked that he wasn't bleeding, "I warned you not to take Lord Stark lightly."

"Aye," Drogo nodded before looking to Ned, "whatever the visions may have told you of me. Dacey is no mere woman. I have faced her mace, and I have seen her shatter the weapons of my bloodriders." Drogo snickered, "Your threats…" At Ned's glare, he corrected, "…your promise, would be hard to fulfill as Dacey is more than capable of sending me to the kalasar in the sky on her own."

An image of Lyanna lying on her deathbed and Dacey's broken body lying discarded in a pile of dead bodies flashed through Ned's mind along with Robb's body with Greywind's head sewn on, "No matter one's strength, we are still simply people. Placing one's trust in the wrong people can result in losing those we care for the most."

(Present)

Robert chuckled as he put his gobble down, "Ah, I've missed this. You, me, and nothing but untamed wilderness filled with ample game to hunt. Reminds me of our days in the Vale."

"At least here there isn't the threat of Mountain Clans jumping out of the bushes," Ned responded grimly.

"That was one time and those Painted Dogs practically pissed themselves with one look at your house crest when you brought your greatsword down on their chieftain's toes." Robert sniggered, "Always wondered if were you aiming to maim or did you actually miss?"

Ned snorted, "Loose gravel, my old sword was a touch heavier than Ice. Had to really put your back into it when bringing it down, didn't want it to get stuck in bone,"

"That's why I favor the war hammer," Robert nodded sagely, "can't get stuck, and anything you hit with it turns to pulp." Sighing Robert looked to the sky, "Gods, Ned, what happened to us. One moment we were lads, fit and full of vigor. Now look at us, old and fat."

Ned chuckled, "Think you are mistaking me for Lord Manderly, but you got the old part right. Takes everything I have to stay one step ahead of these lads."

Robert agreed, "You know how to handle them. To most, it looks like you're enjoying thrashing them in the yard, but I know you well enough. You stop just the right side of humiliating them, and let them realize they are gaining ground. Instead of demoralizing them, you're giving them something to strive towards."

"Same lesson Jon Arryn taught us when he had Lord Royce hand us our posteriors daily. Lord Royce gave us a goal, a seemingly insurmountable obstacle. One you eventually bested through raw strength and talent, while I succeed through skill and technique."

"Never was one for strategy," Robert mused, "You might dislike the game Ned, but you understand it better than you think."

Ned sighed, "I don't dislike the game, I abhor it. It is the playground of short-sighted fools with too much ego and greed. Who's ass sits on the blasted throne matters little when the white winds blow and the watchman sounds his horn thrice."

"Funny, coming from a bloke whose family ruled the North for eight thousand years," Robert picked up his goblet and drank deeply of the water wine. Setting it back down he scrutinized his oldest friend, and brother by choice, "We haven't really had a chance to talk Ned?"

"We are talking now," Ned cooly stated as he took a sip from his own goblet.

Robert sighed, "Fuck, Ned you know what I mean. Lyanna's boy, Jon, we haven't said more than a handful of words about him."

Ned snorted, "What is there to say, you've apparently known for fourteen years and not made a whisper until you drunkenly revealed your knowledge and nearly scared Jon half to death in the process."

"I wasn't expecting to run into him right there at her grave," Robert mused, "your boy was quick with the denials, but he takes after you. Couldn't lie to save his own head." At Ned's mercurial look, he chuckled, "Sorry, bad choice of words." Robert leaned forward in his seat making the cheap portable chair groan in protest, "What I'm trying to say is I know why you felt you couldn't tell me back then, I was a right ass. Should never have stepped over those bodies to take the throne. Old Arryn even reprimanded me in private after you'd left the city to end the siege on my family home and look for Lyanna. He said there were more diplomatic ways to have addressed it, ways that didn't include dehumanizing and dismissing the murder of children."

Ned nodded, "I doubt the Tywin of those days would have looked kindly on the execution of his prized lapdogs or his son being sent to the Wall. It took seeing the end of all he cared for to get him to show any remorse, and even I doubt he is truly remorseful. The man is still playing the game, he is just better equipped to make moves that cost less blood or make new enemies." Ned looked at him seriously, "Why did you never mention you realized Jon's parentage. I knew Jon's legitimacy only from my sister's journals, and the letter Rhaegar sent to me the night before the Trident."

A frown came to Robert's face, "He wrote to you?"

"Aye, his man passed it to me when he brought the Prince's terms to our command tent," Ned sighed, "I thought it an offer to trade Lyanna for my forces turning our cloaks to his side. I did not read it until I spoke with Barristan after the battle." Ned looked to the Kingsguard commander standing nearby.

Robert looked at Selmy, "You knew about this?"

"Only that the letter had been sent. I was not privy to the Prince's words, in Rheagar's view I was attainted as one of Aerys men for my actions in saving the Mad King at Duskendale." Selmy responded bitterly, "I have and will continue to regret saving Aerys' life, but I cannot regret fulfilling my duty, even knowing what it cost in the end."

A curt nod came from Ned, "I can only imagine the conflicted feelings you've had, especially since the visions. Following my death I did not see what became of you following your dismissal from the Kingsguard."

"Dismissal?" Robert choked, "Why would they?"

"Ostensibly," Selmy explained, "Queen Cersei had Joffrey dismiss me because I was the one present when you were gored by the boar. In actuality, it was to ensure I was out of the way when they denounced Lord Stark. Cersei did not intend for Lord Stark to be killed, but she needed him removed as a threat to Joffrey's reign and ensure no one knew the truth about her children. I had been vocally opposed to the heavyhanded actions in killing the members of the Stark household."

Ned grimaced, "Doubt my other self noticed the disquiet on the Cersei's face when that little shit ordered Payne to take his head. She knew the trouble her ill-begotten spawn's whims would cause."

Robert, as the only one of the three who had not had visions felt somewhat lost. He knew the bit that he'd been killed by a boar, regardless of the variations in the visions that seemed to never change. It was evident obvious Ned died not long after him, as so many others had rushed to warn Ned of the inherent dangers awaiting him.

Selmy sighed, "I'm sorry to say Lord Stark that in the few versions of the visions where I tried rescuing your daughters, I was always met with failure. Arya I could never locate, and my attempts to get Sansa from the Redkeep were stymied by either Baelish or my former brothers."

"Your former brothers I could understand," Robert mused, "you both said she was betrothed to Joffrey. Why would Baelish be involved."

Ned took a drink from his goblet, "Think of my daughter and think of what my former wife looked like when we wed."

A stricken look came to the King's face, "Ned, please tell me you're not serious. He was lusting over a twelve-year-old girl because of a passing resemblance to her mother?"

"The Ravens spared me from any version of events where he acted upon his desires," Ned's eyes hardened, "but they assured me such versions did exist. Had Tywin not acted so swiftly, I would have made the need for a new Master of Coin a reality in my own way."

Robert looked to where Lyanna the direwolf lurked near the tree line, "I'm sure it would have involved much gnashing of teeth and bloodcurdling screams that would haunt the nightmares of the Crownlands long after the Long Night has passed."

(Trident – Crossroads)

Khal Drogo rested his arakh on his shoulder as he kicked the body of a man who tried to enter the royal wheelhouse unbiddenly. Nearby Dacey was pulling her mace from the skull of another man. The Khal was not used to being on this side of a raid, as in Essos it would be his people doing the raiding. Tywin Lannister appeared with some of his men, "How many were in this area?"

Jorah stood from where he was examining one of the dead men, "Seven here, Sandor said there were nine more on his side. These were the outriders that started trickling in after stopped near the Twins."

Tywin motioned to two young men in his company wearing the heraldry of House Frey, "My nephews arrived with men loyal to their father. My good brother is not a bright man, so it would be wise to think it is my sister who dispatched them."

"I'm Ser Cleos Frey," the older of the two greeted, "Our grand-sire went a bit mad after word reached him Lord Edmure was going to wed the squid's daughter. He was hoping for a match with one of our girls now that Lord Hoster isn't able to stop it. He schemed to kidnap one of Lord Stark's daughters, he'd pretend one of our boys saved her and would ask for her hand or another betrothal in turn."

Jorah's brows raised at that, "You are telling us all this why?"

"Not like it matters anymore," the other Frey responded, "Grandfather walks with the Stranger now. Our uncle sent us to stop these idiots one way or another. Figured all they would accomplish is getting themselves killed."

Drogo growled, "We should make an example of these bridgemen."

The two Freys looked at the large Dothraki in fear, but Tywin interceded, "Lord Jorah, can you make your friend understand my nephews came to warn us, and have provided us with the reasons for the attempted abduction."

"Oh," Jorah chuckled, "he understands common just find Lord Lannister, he's just more willing to verbalize what we're all thinking." Jorah turned to his cousin, "Dacey, go tell your sister we've got this under control. I'll have the guards check for anyone else who joined up after the Twins and have them detained until His Grace and Lord Stark return."

Drogo glared at the Westerlands man before following Dacey into the wheelhouse. He motioned his two bloodriders who'd been sent inside as a precaution to stand down. Dacey went upstairs to give the all-clear as he moved to his men, "Any trouble?"

His men responded in their native tongue, "No one got past you or the burned dog man."

"He is competent," Drogo smirked, there was no direct translation for names, so his men had taken to describing physical features and heraldry to keep people from knowing who they spoke of. The only time this would not work was referring to Lord Stark, as the word Magnar was a shared word between the Dothraki language and that of the First Men, a relic and sign of their ancestry thousands of years ago.

One of the men glanced to the stairs, "Was she as good in actual combat as she is in the practice yard?"

"These bridgemen were no true test of her strength," Drogo sneered, "She took three of the seven while Jorah and I each got two." He remembered the message his mother had sent from Vaes Dothrak. She had dreamed of her son standing before a great gathering of their people, the hundred Khals kneeling and offering their braids in submission. When he turned from them he was confronted by a great and terrible wolf. The wolf growled and snarled, but did not bite. At the great wolf's side, a smaller female wolf wearing the skin of a bear walked. The female wolf moved to his side. As he rode across the plains with the she-wolf running beside his mare, a field of ghost grass appeared. Even the doom of the world did not impede them as they rode forth. The ghost grass fell like scythed wheat.

(Pyke)

Theon looked upon his childhood home with a longing he'd not felt since receiving The Reader's letter some moons past suggesting he abandoned any thought of returning. His uncle had apologized for the hastily sent missive, a by-product of believing he was the only man to have had the visions. Like many, he'd made moves to save his kinsmen and people from the coming doom in whatever ways he could. This did not take into account the actions of others.

Theon walked beside Edmure Tully as they entered the Great Keep, guests as rare as they were were rarely permitted beyond this point. The rare times those from the mainland ventured here without the intent to kill Ironborn, they tended to find lodgings at Lordsport or stay on their own ships. He stood before the Seastone Chair, upon it sat his father. Surprisingly his mother stood beside him.

Balon sat slouched on his seat, weary and older than Theon remembered. His mother looked gaunt, and there was a forlorn look about her. Theon held his head high as he spoke, "Father, I have returned."

"So you have," Balon snickered, "The wolf too proud to deliver you himself, had to send his good brother and shrew of a wife?"

"Lord Stark was named Hand of the King," Theon reported, "he makes for King's Landing with His Grace, and the royal company."

Edmure spoke up confidently, "My former good brother granted custody of Theon to House Tully. He treated your son more like a ward than a hostage. As such he did not feel right about making his son choose between duty and his childhood friend if such came to pass."

Balon turned cold dead eyes onto the Riverman, "Don't need to make a pretty story Trout, my good brother The Reader was more than thorough with informing me of potential follies. Harlaw may seem a bit soft, but he is still made of the same salt and iron as the rest of us." Balon looked to where his daughter stood with Lady Caitlyn at the back of the group, "Daughter, you are surprisingly quiet."

Asha stepped forward, "I did not wish to infringe on your reunion with my dear brother."

"Is that so," Balon sneered, "I take it that since Lord Edmure referred to Lord Stark as his former good brother, that Lady Caitlyn is no longer Lady Stark?"

"Indeed," Asha informed, "Uncle Victorian sat in your stead on a Council of Lords Paramount, he can speak of what transpired."

Balon turned to his brother, "Is this true little brother." Balon calling his brother little was ironic as Victorian was physically much larger.

Victorian nodded, "It is, Theon was still a hostage of the Starks even if in name only, and Harlaw is not of your blood."

"Good," Balon shifted in his seat, "I'll speak with you in depth on these happenings later." His eyes moved back to Edmure, "Lord Tully, what brings you here? If you wished to return my son, you could have simply sent him with his uncles."

"True," Edmure smirked, "but I still need a guarantee to ensure that your people do not forget the results of the Rebellion. I have no need for a ward," Edmure glanced to Asha, "but I could use a wife."

"So, you would give me back a son and take my daughter," Balon mused, "even if she is no pure maiden."

Edmure snorted, "I will not hold such against her if she forgives that I am no stranger to a woman's bed."

Theon registered the shocked sound coming from Lady Stark, err Lady Tully. He did not glance at her but did side eye the Riverman. It had been Edmure Tully who introduced Theon and Robb to the less socially acceptable aspects of the Smoking Log. While Robb had never done more than kiss the girls, Theon had done quite a bit more.

Balon chuckled, "Aye, we can speak of your conquests while my wife and your sister hash out the details." The Lord Reaver turned to Harlaw, "Rodrik, you go with them, make sure my soft-headed woman doesn't give half the islands as a dowery."

An hour later found Theon sitting in his father's solar in the Sea Tower. His father and Edmure had regaled each other on some of their more lascivious exploits. Edmure had even dragged Theon into the activity by recounting his first visit to the Smoking Log.

It was two years past when Edmure had come to visit while Lord and Lady Stark were away, Robb was acting Lord of Winterfell in name only. Edmure had taken the older boys down to the Smoking Log, well just Theon and Robb, Jon had gone with Lord and Lady Stark though Theon knew not why. Edmure said it was time the boys learned how to treat ladies. Ser Cassel was not happy when he arrived to retrieve them from the alehouse, Edmure swiftly left the next morning and did not visit again until arriving for Robb's wedding.

Balon sighed, "Have you and spawn running around the North boy?"

"No father," Theon grimaced, "Lord Stark apparently has experience ensuring such accident do not occur. His Grace told us that in their youth, Lord Stark would often clean up after him. Make sure the women he bedded got moon tea and such. Only messed up once because he wasn't in the Vale when Robert bedded Mya's mother."

Nodding Balon looked to Edmure, "My boy will need a wife. The Tyrells have bound their daughter to the North. From what my brother told the Stark girls are both spoken for, as is the Martell girl. Where you suggest I point my wife to looking?"

"I'd warn against looking to the North," Edmure grimaced, "Unless you have your one-eyed brother stashed somewhere and feel like turning him over to Ned's merciful nature."

"The Mormonts still want his head I take it," Balon sighed, "Euron was foolish to poke the bear."

Theon swallowed hard, "More than you realize father," at his father's hard look Theon continued, "Robb told me Lady Dacey, the woman Uncle Euron assaulted, her true father was none other than Rickard Stark, the father of Lord Eddard Stark. Dacey is Lord Stark's half-sister. Euron didn't just poke a bear, he baited a dire wolf."

"Fuck," Balon coughed, "Always wondered how in the seven hells those Northerners rallied so quickly. Barely a month from the burning of Lannisport and the entire North was turning our fleets to kindling, and being none too merciful as they went." There was a knock at the door and Theon's mother entered followed by Lady Caitlyn and Asha.

Theon watched as his mother handed his father a contract before whispering into his ear. From his seat he could read the document. It was rather strait forward for a betrothal contract, save for the caveat where the Iron Islands would aid in the defenses against the Others if they tried to skirt the western end of the Wall.

"Seems all is in order here," Balon grimaced, "if the enemy that drove my ancestors from the Stoney Shores show their icy faces again. We'll send them packing back to whatever frozen hell they crawled out from." Balon signed the contract, "When can we expect the first deliveries of goods?"

Theon watched as Edmure conversed with his sister then turned to Balon, "A moon after I return to Riverrun and send word to my lords. Lord Harlaw said something about making a pilgrimage to the God's Eye, he can receive the first shipment personally."

Balon nodded, "Good, I'd just as well gotten a tree from Ten Towers, but he got no saplings there strong enough to take root on Pyke. Been an age and a half since our weirwood died, my brother claims the kings of old must have displeased the Drowned God."

"We had a weirwood?" Theon frowned, "I don't remember seeing it."

"You were birthed on part of its remains, the wood cot in the maester's chamber was hewn from it, as was this desk," Balon clapped his hand on the desk he sat behind, "There isn't enough wood on our islands to leave even a sacred tree to rot or turn to stone. That was all done before we claimed Pyke." Balon signed the contract then added the stamp of his signet ring. Looking to Asha he glared, "Don't do anything to shame us daughter, give your husband sons." He then looked to Edmure as the man signed the document and added his own signet stamp, "She's yours to do with as you like good son. We'll do our pomp and ceremony shite tomorrow; my brother will demand you seek the Drowned God's blessing. Otherwise, you can wait to do your kneeling to the Seven, or not. By our customs she is your wife the moment the ink dries on this paper."

Theon grimaced at his father's emotionless words. He remembered the conversation Asha and him had had in private just before setting out from Lordsport.

(Few Hours Earlier)

Asha had pulled Theon from the group to a secluded area, "Theon, I am going to have to put on an act for father. He is a proud man and he will think you too much a Greenlander and unfit to be his heir if you don't act enough like an Ironborn. I won't be in the solar to guide you, it will be father, you and Edmure alone."

"What do I need to do?" Theon frowned.

"I will act subdued, when father questions you," Asha swallowed hard, "you have to tell him you put me back in my proper place if he brings this up in conversation. When he asks why there is no evidence on my face or neck, tell him you didn't want to mar my appearance in front of Lord Tully."

Grimacing Theon grabbed her hand, "There is more you aren't willing to say?"

"By our customs I will be Edmure's wife, his property the moment he and father sign the contract. Father will expect Lord Tully to be like any man and take his rights with me tonight, I told Edmure he must do so." Asha's jaw feathered as she clinched her jaw briefly, "Brother our rooms are still right next to each other. I am willingly becoming Edmure's wife, but father would expect some resistance to this. You will hear things tonight that may spurn you to act, I need you to restrain yourself. Also, in the morning do not react as a loving brother, but as an Ironborn."

Theon's brows furrowed, "What do you mean?"

"Edmure and I will need to put on a good show for my crew. They will only accept him as a worthy leader if he proves able to subdue me. At the blessing ceremony tomorrow, I need to be bruised and beaten." Asha sighed, "To really sell it, you need to be as much of a dick as our dearly departed elder brothers were at their worst."

Swallowing hard Theon nodded, "I can do that, but do we really have to do the blessing ceremony? Not sure the Tully's will be behind the whole voyeuristic display of Lord Edmure fucking you in the surf."

"Damphair has already discussed it with both Edmure and Caitlyn," Asha grimaced, "and he promised we can stay mostly clothed and only he and his acolytes will be present for the main event." She must have seen something in his face as she patted his cheek as she'd in their youth after one of their brothers had tormented him, "Do not worry little brother, this is far less pain than either of us were subjected to in Uncle's visions. It will not have to be repeated, after tonight I will be the Lady of Riverrun and you will once more be the uncontested heir to the Iron Islands."

"You are going through this for me?" Theon looked stricken.

"Theon, we are the only family either of us has. Father is a fool, and mother is a ghost of the woman she was before the rebellion. Our uncles would turn on us in a second, only the Reader would have our backs and he is an old man. It is as it has always been, you and me against the world."

Notes:

Okay, sorry for the long wait on an update. Life and other works kept cropping up, and no excuses but I didn't want to post something subpar.

- Lancel and Beth? I'm testing to see how this pairing works.

- Yes, the Weasel gets offed early, and we see Tywin is still playing the game. Some notes on Walder's attempted kidnapping forced betrothal plot. There were no Freys at Winterfell so he had no first hand accounts of what happened, just rumors. The Royal party also didn't pass through the Twins, just nearby. King's Road doesn't pass through the Twins, had Robb not needed to relieve Riverrun he'd never had to let his mother negotiate with Walder. Walder also probably hoped they'd scoop one of the girls up while they were away from the main encampment, but the sudden increase in outriders made some of the guards nervous.

- Ironborn customs, yeah they're not nice people even to their own. Canon shows the Greyjoys barely tolerate each other at the best of times. Asha knows she's losing face with her people and family by becoming the wife of a lord from the mainland. To keep her crew from doing something stupid (they're Ironborn after all) she needs Edmure to appear strong and ruthless. At the same time she knows Theon needs to be just as cold and dismissive of her as any other Ironborn man would be, but it's Theon so that's a hard ask.