Robb

It was beyond hot.

He kicked the covers off of him. How do people live like this? Grey Winds' eyes opened and gazed back to him, panting. "I know, boy." He scratched behind his ears. "This place is terrible." Casterly Rock was a place out of some story book Sansa loved, but by the Old Gods it was hot. Winterfell was superior in every way imaginable.

Robb took off his nightshirt and wiped the sweat from his brow. Grey Wind would be happier outside in the wide open lands where he could roam, but he seemed determined to remain by his side. He mistrusts this place as much as I. Oddly enough, sometimes he dreamed as if he could understand Grey Wind, as if they were one and the same. Though he had not given this voice to anyone. Theon would just make a jape of it.

The thought of his friend filled him with some sadness. Poor Theon is more miserable than me. At least he didn't need to remain under constant guard like Theon, who was a prisoner in all but name as he was confined to the castle proper by command of his father.

"Father, Theon has given me no cause to doubt his loyalty." Robb said. "It was he who saved my life from Aunt Lysa."

"It is for his protection more than anything, Robb."

"You think someone would mean him harm?" Robb asked, amazed. "Why? He is no more responsible for his father than I."

"Sometimes men may seek favor where none exists to be found." Father sighed. "It is best to remove such temptation until we win the war."

Robb rubbed his chin as he vowed to visit Theon to keep his spirits up in the morning. When they march on the Iron Islands, he was going to be by his side. He was as much as a brother to him as Jon or Bran and he deserved to be at his side in any battle he fought. A small bright spot was seeing Bran again. He is getting taller. Though he saw the scar Prince Joffrey had left on his brother under his collar. He was thankful the prince was dead or he would have become a princeslayer. He seems happy. Robb listened as Bran babbled about his adventures.

"I've learned so much, Robb!" Bran said. "You better be careful. I'm going to beat you in a spar one day!"

Robb laughed and ruffled his hair. "I look forward to it, little brother."

Though he had yet to meet Cousin Jasper since he arrived. It seems he was avoiding him as he had during his stay in Winterfell and Robb had little desire to seek him out, for he had little to say to his aloof cousin. Though he felt some pity for him. His mother was absolutely bat shit crazy. She wanted to kill me for looking like him. What kind of mother does that?

His cousin could be a real prick sometimes, but he didn't deserve to die.

Grey Winds ears perked up, and Robb saw the cause quick enough with the door opening, and Alyns frame bursted in red faced. "Lord… Rob…. My." He panted, out of breath.

Robb gave the poor man a glass of water that he drank in large gulps. He gave Alyn a moment to collect himself. "Now, what is the matter Alyn?" He asked."that it couldn't wait until morning."

"Lord Theon has fled." Alyn explained. " He wanted to use the privies. So we escorted him out, and he was in there for some time, before I went to check on him and he was gone! I swear, my lord, we shall find him. He must be in the castle somewhere."

"It's fine Alyn. I know where he is."

"You do?'

Robb put on his shirt. "The closest brothel."

"I shall summon a guard for you, Lord Robb." He vowed.

"It's unneeded Alyn." He replied. "Grey Wind is the only escort I need. He'll find Theon for me."

"As you wish, my lord." Alyn offered a quick bow of his head and left him. It didn't take him long to get dressed.

He opened the door and Cousin Jasper almost fell forward. His hand was in an outreach position that vanished in a blur back to his pant side. He looked as stiff as he had ever seen him. "I have words I wish to say." He announced with a haughty voice.

"Then say them, cousin." Robb replied.

A long, awkward pause as they just stared at the other like two stone statues. Jasper rubbed his pant legs until his knuckles went white as snow. "I…" was the only thing he said as he froze. They would be stuck here all night at this rate. I don't have time for this.

"Well, I suppose you have forgotten. Mayhaps a walk will help you remember?" Robb offered him an escape from this.

Jasper coughed. "Yes, a walk!" He said thankfully his cheeks were as red as his hair. "But where are we walking to?"

Grey Wind darted in front of them. "The stables." Robb said.

"How do you know the way?"

"I don't." Robb smiled. "But Grey Wind does."

Cousin Jasper nodded, shoulders relaxing. "Then he's very similar to Dawn, Brans wolf. "He said. "A noble, intelligent beast beyond reproach. Well, almost." He smirked. "If he is like Dawn, then he is very bribable with a good steak." He japed and Robb even chuckled lightly. They wandered the halls, passing the occasional guard or Lannister servant, but mostly the castle was asleep. It was a silent walk between the two of them. Robb almost forgot he was even walking with him. It was like he was with a ghost. They didn't even make eye contact until the smell of hay greeted his nostrils as Cousins Jasper's hand grabbed him on the shoulder. "Robb, I'm very sorry about what my mother did." He said, looking him dead in the eye. "I know no apologies can make it right, but I want you to know I shall do everything in my power to make amends, even if it takes the rest of my life. I swear it! You are my cousin and I've meant no ill will to any of you."

"And Jon? Or do you think I've forgotten what you did to my brother?" Robb crossed his arms. "You shamed him in my father's own halls." It was beyond cruel for merely spilling a tankard of ale on him during a feast.

"I've made my peace with him." Jasper smiled weakly. "I don't think we shall ever be friends, but he's an honorable man. I respect that."

Robb heard no falsehood behind his voice. It was honest, if there was one thing he knew for absolute certainty Jasper Arryn was one of the worst liars he had ever seen and he had seen Sansas attempts of deceit.

Cousin Jasper turned around to head back to his room.

"Your whole life." He tasted those words. "That's a long time, cousin. You might regret it." He grinned.

Cousin Jasper twisted back, facing him again with a cautious, if hopeful, look. "Well, I'll have to take my chances then. It's the honorable thing to do."

And he decided to take another chance on him. "Well, I'm starting today. Don't just stand there! Saddle up!"

For a moment, he didn't move, gawking at him. "Yeah, okay." He replied as his look brightened. "And where are we riding off to?"

Robb adjusted his saddle, tightening the straps. "We are fetching Greyjoy from the brothels."

"Shouldn't we be closing the harbor and the city gates?"

He twisted around. "You think he's fled, don't you?" He asked with some heat.

Jasper nodded.

"Well, you are wrong. I know Theon better than you. He is my friend. Grey Wind shall prove that."

"I hope you are right Stark." Robb could hear the doubt in his voice. He just doesn't know Theon like I do.

Both of them mounted quickly and in a moment were passed the gatehouse with Grey Wind leading the way. The moon was high above them as they made good time. Jasper's voice cut through the steady clops of their steeds. "Robb, I need to be honest with you."

"Well, I suppose this is a night of honesty."

"I can't come in with you. I'm a married man. I swore a vow." He explained with a serious tone.

Robb snorted with laughter. "Well, I wouldn't want to upset your home life with the princess." She wouldn't stop looking at Cousin Jasper while they danced in the Great Halls of Winterfell, not that his oblivious cousin noticed. He was almost as bad as Snow with the heart. "Don't worry, you won't have to come in with me." He kicked the sides of his horse and flew down the road. "I'll be in and out. A quick adventure."

Theon

Theon bedded the girl furiously against the soft bed sheets. How could father declare himself king? Does he not care for me? "Mi lord!" The tall blond squealed in pain or pleasure. He didn't care which. In his dreams, Lord Eddard Stark came to his door with the great sword Ice and separated his head from his shoulders. His dreams had become a reality as, by his own command, he had assigned a guard to him. They treat me like a pig being led to the slaughter.

Did they forget it was he who was the first to defend Robb from that fat trout of a woman? She was as mad as that son of hers.

But Lord Stark had never truly welcomed him into the household. Sometimes he was kind to him, or tried to play the father, but he was always a hostage to be slain at the whim of his fathers disobedience. He was a Greyjoy. An outsider.

Never a Stark. They had afforded even the bastard Jon Snow a higher status than himself, a trueborn.

Lord Stark lied when he claimed he was going to be Lord of Pyke. He took me from my home after men like him slew my brothers. They may go to slay his father and remove him from the sea stone chair, and yet they refused him the right to command the invasion to take what was his. Men of the Iron Islands would name a soft greenlander if he wasn't leading it. They gave Robb a boy five years my junior command over the siege of Old Wyk. Even the dullard Edmure Tully got a command.

I know the lands, but they still overlook me. Theon thought with a growing sourness.

"It's prince." Theon hissed bitterly. "Call me it."

She paled as white as milk. "Yes, mi prince."

Why did words of a girl bother him so he didn't know?

He kept on fucking her less her stupid voice annoyed him.

A man has to take what is his!

Theon, by all rights, was his father's heir as his last trueborn son and he had to know, by naming himself king once more, he damned him. He must have thought I would get away. On the Iron Islands, a man took what he wanted and held it by his own strength. The rocky isles beget hard men. They lived by the Old Way. The Iron Price. The thought wormed its way into his mind over the past couple of days until he could ignore it no longer.

I shall arrive to the Iron Islands and rally banners to my cause. Even the most sour, bitter old man would see his father could not hope to stand against the entire realm. Lord Eddard Stark would smash the walls of Pyke once more, as he did when he was a boy. If he could show his strength, the Ironborn would follow him as their lord. He would send his father to the Wall to live out his days in the cold. A better end than the one Stark would give him.

He spent himself inside the ship captains daughter. A few charming words and she was begging him to lay with her. Though Theon noted she was a bit plain for him, she still felt nice around his cock. "If you are a prince. Could that make me your princess?"

"You are prettier when you don't talk." He brushed a strand of hair to the side. "There is another way you could please me."

"Yes, mi prince?"

"Suck on me. It's why the Drowned God gave women mouths." It certainly wasn't to hear them talk.

The girl had never done so, but she learned quick enough.

His escape had been a simple affair. Lord Stark had departed the castle, leaving Robb in charge of his guard. He bitched and moaned to him about wanting the feel of a woman. His guards realized quick enough he had fled, but Robb wouldn't. He trusted him and would think he went to the brothels. A trust he fully intended on exploiting. Theon felt a hint of guilt for it. By the time he realized the truth, he would be halfway to the Iron Islands.

The thin, clean-shaven merchant's eyes went wide with the promise of a pouch of gold. Theon imagined the sight of his home, and the greeting he would receive from his people. They'll see my strength and shall rally to my side. She gagged as he released himself. "Did that please you, mi prince?"

"It wasn't bad. You might have a future in a brothel."

Outside of the captains cabin, which he had commandeered for his own use, he heard the sounds of the crew running about. Were they finally setting sail? Theon wanted to see the land fade behind them. "Stay here." He said as he dressed quickly and put the sword at his hip. His mouth went dry. Robb. How had he found him so quickly? He saw the answer quick enough Grey Wind. The damn wolf. How could he have forgotten the damn thing? Theon saw Jasper Arryn at his side as well. What was he doing with that pompous prick? "Theon?" Robb said in disbelief. "What are you doing here?" The hurt in his voice tore at him more than he thought it would.

"What does it look like, Robb? I'm leaving. I need to take what is mine."

"You leave without my father's blessing?"

"He is not my father."

Robb flinched before taking a single step forward.

Theons sword breathed the early morning air. "You didn't bring a sword, Robb." He smirked. "Not smart. That was stupid of you." Grey Wind snarled a sound that sent a shiver down his spine. "Call him off, Robb, or I shall cut him down."

"You threaten Grey Wind?" Robb asked, his voice furious.

"Don't be such a boy, Robb. Now leave or the bloodshed shall be on you."

"You are going nowhere, Greyjoy." Jasper Arryn said, his eyes filled with harsh judgement, just like the courtyard of Winterfell. A sword was in his hands, and he was a capable enough swordsman. "Surrender to our custody or I shall put you down Greyjoy." None of the crew was moving to get the ship out of the dock. Her captain just stared at him numbly. The stupid girl chose then to venture from the cabin with a confused look at the commotion. Why aren't they moving?

No…noo. I can't go back, not when I was so close. Theon thought with a growing sense of helplessness.

Theon grabbed her and placed the steel against her neck. "We are leaving! Do you fucking hear me, or your daughter is dead?" It stirred the captain to life and for a moment he could see himself walking once more on the stoney shores of Pyke. Grey Wind, with a single growl, sent the man to the ground in a pool of his own piss.

Robb looked at him like he was some monster. "You think I wanted this?" He scoffed. "This is your fault! It didn't have to go this way, Robb."

"I can't let you go Theon." Robbs voice was as hard as Lord Starks. It wasn't the voice of his friend. A boy he considered a younger brother. It was a lords voice.

"You hide behind the skirts of some maiden." Jasper Arryn said with disdain. "You are no man, nether less a lord." She is certainly no maiden, you fool. Is this some song to you?

Theon scowled. "You think you are better than me?"

"Dirt is better than you."

It sent a flush down his neck. "Then have at me then!" He shoved the captain's daughter into Robb and met Arryns slash with one of his own. Sparks flew as they danced across the deck. Slash. Parry. Counter. Arryn was faster than Robb, but not as strong. Though Theon had never truly excelled with swords. I just need one moment and I can best him.

Theon lunged quick as a cat aiming for his heart. Arryn sidestepped by a hair and brought down his sword, and Theon felt weightless as his sword clanged to the ground.

Along with his hand.

He fell to his knees, screaming. "You cut off my fucking hand!"

Arryns boot knocked him onto his back. "Be thankful you draw breath, for your life is not mine to take."

He looked at Robb and any pity in his eyes vanished as he looked at the weeping girl. Someone wrapped his stump with some cloth.

They took him back to Casterly Rock in chains.

Garlan The Gallant

The cage held the monster, the criminal who started the damn war. Or one cause at any rate. It was a messy conflict, like they always seem to be.

Maester Orlen was his name, but he also knew him by Orion. His friends called him that. Though he was a maester no longer the Archmaesters of Oldtown had revoked his title at their request. He had served House Tyrell for many years. His eyes were tired as he was delivering him like a lamb to slaughter. Willas told him by their father's life he had done this all by himself. "We never would have ordered a slaying with Margaery in the capital." And he spoke with such conviction he had believed him. Willas couldn't have done that. He had to believe that.

"Water?" Garlan offered his canteen.

His eyes lit up, and his hands grabbed the canteen. "Thank you Garlan. You always were a kind man." He took several greedy gulps. It was as hot as sin outside. Garlan gazed at him, wondering why he did it. "Is there something on your mind, Garlan?"

"Why did you do it?" He asked with a solider's bluntness. He had been campaigning for too long. "I've never known you to do anything without my grandmother's wish."

"Thank you for the water, Garlan." Orion replied. "You should try to stay in the shade." He chided lightly. "The sun kills even young men."

The answer made him feel ill. It was far from good enough. "Orion, you did this right? I just want the truth."

Orion gave a raspy chuckle. "I've confessed, have I not? You heard me in your brother's court." He had sole control over the ravenery, and his acolytes confirmed this. It made sense, he supposed. Learned men could step beyond their place. Lords often had a certain feeling of distrust between them, and his brother spun a believable tale.

"Tell me." Garlan pressed. "I swear by the love I bear, my wife and sister and our Gods I shall tell not a soul without your consent."

The maester weakened and gave a small smile. "I'm not completely guilty, I suppose, nor innocent either." His smile was more wry as he stretched his chains. "I wrote the letters' tis true, at Lady Olennas' lip."

"My grandmother bid you to write?"

"Aye she did."

"Then why-"

Orion cut him off. "Because I knew, and I was just as guilty of the murder. A look out has as much blood on his hands as a man who swings a sword." It was like a punch to the gut and his following words made him feel even worse. "I broke my oaths, Garlan, I sired a child. A boy, he has a healthy heart and strong lungs." A maester swore an oath like a septon or a man of the kingsguard. A vow of celibacy. "Your grandmother has promised to see the child looked after. He shall live a better life than I." Once Willas told him, he didn't have the stomach for the world he lived in. And Garlan knew he was right. It was a world of schemes and lies that made his head hurt. Very little about this was right and as twisted as it was, he could see the logic behind it. What other lies have they told him? What other tricks are they pulling? Was it all in the defense of their family? Or was that some terrible excuse they told themselves? But deep down, he didn't want to know. It made him feel soiled as he nodded his head.

"If they don't I shall." Garlan vowed. It was the only thing he could do.

"Thank you Garlan." He smiled. "And please stay out of the sun. House Tyrell has need of you." For a man who would be delivered for execution, he was very cheerful. He has made his peace with everything. Men said he was courageous for swinging a sword, but that was courageous as well accepting one's end with grace and dignity. A different sort of courage, like a woman's battle in the birthing chamber.

They arrive at Lord Starks encampment early in the day. Starks sentries escorted the party towards the center of camp where Lord Stark had set up his pavilion. Garlan carried with him a letter from his brother, accepting the terms of reentering the Kings Peace. House Tyrell would remain Lord Paramount of the Reach and retained the Lordship of Highgarden, but the Wardenship had been stripped from them and granted to Lord Tarly. Willas had acted swiftly, agreeing to marry Lady Talla Tarly to keep the man tied to them. Margaery would remain a guest in the Lord Regents court. A host would fight in the Iron Islands under Lord Tarlys command. Reparations in the form of new taxes levied against them would be paid for over a period of three years. And they would deliver the man responsible for the murder of Ser Kevan to Lord Stark. Garlan had to deliver the acceptance as duty demanded, but other thoughts swirled in his mind. You can not ask that of our sister. He told Willas as angry as he had ever been with him.

The tent flaps were open for him and Lord Stark, a stoic looking man, offered him his hand. "Ser Garlan." He said cordially. "I trust your journey here was well and hale."

Garlan nodded. "It was. I bring to you my brother's reply. House Tyrell agrees with the terms laid out before us."

Lord Stark accepted the news with no emotion. "And Maester Orlen?"

"Delivered to you, per your request, to question the man."

"Then I shall speak with him. I shall have my steward to see to any refreshment you require in the interim."

Garlan cleared his throat. "Lord Stark, I have a personal matter I wish to speak with you on."

Lord Stark motioned for him to continue.

"I wish to offer myself in the place of my sister, Lady Margaery. I offer to take her spot in the capital."

"You wish to take your sister's place?" His request clearly surprised Lord Stark. "Why would you wish such?"

For the first time in several weeks, he felt like a knight again protecting the weak. "She is my sister, my lord. I failed to protect her once. I shall not fail twice. Lord Renly, her husband, is dead. Her place should be among her family, where she can heal and learn to laugh once more. I would gladly take her sentence."

Lord Stark gazed at him, deep in thought. "That won't be needed, Ser Garlan."

"My lord." He protested.

"It won't be needed." Lord Stark said. "Neither of you will be required. House Tyrell has paid enough, I think. Take your sister back to her childhood home." It was one of the noblest commands he had heard any man utter. Willas would decry it as foolishness, but Garlan gazed with complete approval. It brought tears to his eyes. "I am sorry for what happened to your sister. It was a crime." Lord Stark added.

"Thank you, Lord Stark." He offered his sincerest thanks and shook the mans hand.

The next day Maester Orlen died and House Tyrell was once more at peace and he was certain this peace would last. They had chastised the Lannisters as well. Lord Tywin was gone to the Wall to rot and all the men involved with Loras death and Margaery maiming had been killed or sent to the wall. What more could they possibly ask for? Everything A small voice sang to him. He always wants more, you know this. Garlan hoped not, but it didn't matter he would spend what time he had on this good green land with his darling wife trying to be a good man.

Peace was a sweet thing.

The Hostage

The Lannister cells were damp and cold. A place where only rats proudly called it home. Theon only had his thoughts to keep him occupied. The guard who carried his tray of food never spoke a word, save the occasional grunt. "How long have I been here?" He asked the first time he heard him come down the stairs. A blow to the ribs that left him groaning on the filthy mattress of straw taught him not to speak. How long he resided deep within the earth he didn't know? Only darkness surrounded him, with bitter memories singing their songs.

Theon heard his father's firm voice. His true father, not Lord Stark. He called him weak, and a disappointment to the Greyjoy name.

Though when he imagined his brothers, Rodrick and Maron, he saw Robb and Bran. They had treated him better than his own flesh and blood. But he still was never one of them. Always an outsider.

Sometimes he imagined his hand was whole and he could still move his fingers. My sword hand is gone. It was a phantom feeling that made him wish to weep. A fucking crippled. Balon Greyjoy would laugh at him for losing to a greenland knight young enough to piss grass. Theon still didn't understand how he lost to him. He imagined every slash of the fight, and he should have killed him.

Lord Arryn should be the crippled.

Not him

Suddenly, torches crept around the corner, burning his eyes. Theon lifted his hand up as he saw his death coming. A jailer, executioner, and surrogate father all rolled into one. His long face gazed down at him with quiet disapproval. Theon shivered in fear as is staring into the eyes of the Drowned God. Grey eyes as cold as ice.

"Why did you do it?" Lord Stark asked.

"Are you here to kill me?" Theon winced, imagining Ice going through his neck with a single slice. A constant dream he had for over ten years.

Lord Stark sighed. "Lord Edmure has asked for it. Along with Lord Royce and dozens of Lords from the Vale. You attacked the Lord of the Eyrie after attempting to escape my custody." He paused. "So I ask again, why did you do it? Your guilt is not in question. Robb has told me of the merchant's daughter and your intentions."

It angered him. "This is your fault! If you only did as I asked and gave me command! And I was not going to stick around for one of those guards to cut me down!" Theon lunged for the bars with one hand and stump. "You did this, not me!"

"I told you what was to happen. You would be Lord of Pyke." Lord Stark said stoically. "I could not give you command over Lords of the Vale or Riverlands, nor the North. You know this. They are not yours to lead. You would have fought at Robbs side and earned recognition enough, but that was not enough for you. You demanded glory."

"Are you going to kill me?" Theon asked again. "You have always wanted to." He spoke the truth that he had known since he was a boy.

Lord Stark looked at him with pity, shaking his head. "Then you are lost, Theon, if you believe that." He pinched the bridge of his nose. "Out of the love I bear you, I'm telling you to take the black." The Wall is where men went to freeze their cocks off and without his swords hand what chance would he have?

"And if I don't?"

"Take the black Theon." Lord Stark replied solemnly.

It was a simple choice.

Bran

Bran was drowning.

A raven circled above as two monstrous creatures with tentacles fought. Men screamed and ships crumbled. It ripped apart a forest of trees in the struggle. One monster crashed ashore, bleeding. It looked dead. Wolves howled and feasted on the beast. The fields turned red with blood as a lion cub died. Bran saw a falcon in the ruins of a castle, laughing and crying over a room of small corpses, each more deformed than the last. It wouldn't stop raining. It pelted his face like cool tears as he came ashore. Bran ran, or he tried to. His legs wouldn't move. Hands dragged him down into the pool of blood. "Stop! "He cried out. "Let me go!"

Two blue eyes as bright as the sky glowered at him through the pool of blood. Something was down there. Something dark. A monster that made his skin crawl. Its eyes were evil. Shackles bound whatever it was. It was no man. "Soon we shall meet son of Brandon. Soon I shall be free from my prison." It said. "But first you shall drown!" And dragged him under.

He screamed bloody murder. Dawn jumped off of him and across every cot. "Ouch!" "Hey!" "Get off me!" "Dawn!" His friends shouted as Dawn returned a wolfish grin.

"Are you okay, Bran?" Tommen asked as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes.

"Oh, he's not going to be!" Adrian declared. "I was having an amazing dream with a beautiful girl." He groaned.

"Lay off Adrian." Tommen replied. "Are you okay Bran?"

"I was drowning Tommen. It was awful. It was very real."

Jon extended his legs off the bed. "Could be more than a dream. Septon Layne says the Seven come to us in our sleep."

"Old Nan told us similar of the Old Gods." Bran recalled her stories meant to frighten them to sleep. None of them terrified him anymore. But it was so real.

Adrian looked puzzled.

"Brans dream." Jon said in a matter-of-fact tone. "Not whatever you dreamt of."

Dawn jumped back onto his bed. "Well, tell us Bran. Cella always told me you should talk about your dreams or you become sick." Would he become sick? Bran wondered. He had never heard that before, but mayhaps the princess had? He didn't want to get sick! In a couple of days, they were boarding ships for Old Wyk with Cousin Jasper and Robb. Jasper seemed convinced they would be home by All Fathers Day in three months called it the easy island. Bran told them every detail, from the monstrous beasts to the shadowy lands flowing with blood. He spoke of the mad falcon and the dead Lion Cub and the evil beneath the pool of blood from his white hair to his sky-blue eyes that radiated evil. Tommen was pale as a sheet by the end.

"That's what you are scared of?" Adrian scoffed, crossing his arms. "Didn't frighten me a lick."

The storm chose then to send the shudder flap open with a thunderous crash. Adrian jumped out of his skin and screamed like a girl as they huddled close together, eyeing the open window with wide, nervous eyes. Ser Arys chose then to kick down the door, sword drawn, gazing around the room for threats. "My prince, are you okay?" All of them reddened, too ashamed to mention his dream scared them.

Tommen nodded his head. "I'm fine." His voice was very subdued, unlike his normally cheerful self. Tommen was one of the sunniest people he had ever met.

Ser Arys mumbled something about Thamen falling asleep on duty and merely reapplied the latch. "Did the storm scare you, lads?"

None of them wanted to squeal, but Bran could see Tommen wanted to tell the truth badly. I don't want him to suffer. It wouldn't be right. "It was not the storm, but a dream I had."

"A dream you say?" Ser Arys said his interest piqued as he grabbed a chair. "Well, let's hear it." Ser Arys was an excellent swordsman and certainly a true man of the Kingsguard, but he loved to gossip. He was bored easily. Bran told him what he told his ward mates.

"What do you think, ser?" Tommen asked.

"My maester told me you should never eat so close to bed. It gives you horrid dreams. You had supper late, did you not?"

He did, and it made sense. Doubt twisted in his chest as the voice echoed in his head. "But what if it's not?"

"Yeah, what if it's not!' Tommen gulped. "I'm clearly the lion cub!"

Jon added his voice sheepishly. "And the falcon is clearly Lord Arryn."

The thing that scared Bran was those eyes. They weren't human.

Ser Arys sighed. "Trust me, it's just a dream, and it's time for you to get back to bed." His voice broke no argument. All of them nodded their heads and went under the sheets. Every gust of wind or crack of thunder made him pale. Bran didn't think any of them would sleep more than a lick that night as he snuggled close to Dawn.

"Pst." Tommen whispered. "Psst Bran."

Sunlight peered through the window as he did sleep some that night. Tommen was already dressed and ready to go for the day. He was always an early riser. "If I die, tell Cella I loved her very much."

"Tommen, it was just a dream." He tried desperately to believe his own voice. "You heard Ser Arys, and he's a man of the Kingsguard. He would know of this sort of thing."

"I know, I know, but if it is true, I'd want Cella to know that." Tommen said. "Promise me Bran, promise me."

Bran swung his legs off his bed and rose. "You are going to tell her yourself." He punched him on the shoulder. "Remember, we got the easy island. Lord Arryn said so himself and I know Robb groaned about it as well."

It seemed to have its effect as Tommen brightened. "Yeah, you're probably right!" He grinned. "Come on, get dressed! I wish to cross blades with you in the training yard, Brandon Stark!"

He lunged out of bed to get dressed. "Your on! I'm going to win this time!" As the dream faded from his mind.

Old Wyk Two weeks latter

One hundred godly men of the Drowned gods wearing mottled robes of green, grey, and blue said the holy words of their ancestors. "Oh, mighty Drowned One, accept these gifts from us, your humble children! Reward us with blood! Bless us in battle!" Seaweed wrapped in their hair, as they wore necklaces of seashells collected from the beaches. Holy relics spat up from his majestic halls.

A red streak formed above them. Burning the sky. It heralded the days of old where they once ruled the waves. It shall come again. One of the many signs of what the Drowned One required of them. Balon was foolish in trusting ships alone to win. An understandable failing, for believing Victarion a skilled sailor, but he had failed. For he did not accept the Drowned One in his heart. If he had, he would have triumphed.

Good stout men of God with thick spears corralled the offerings forward. Ten thousand thralls from all over the Iron Islands. Balon finally accepted what should have done from the start. I wished twenty thousand souls, but ten thousand shall suffice. Many new arrivals from the greenlands. They wept and prayed to false idols. "Rejoice!" Aeron said. "Rejoice! For your lives shall have meaning in death!"

In the days of the dragon, priests had prayed to the Drowned One to destroy the fleets of Greenlanders, but they failed to offer the blood required. Only blood can pay for what we require. During Balon's first rebellion, he refused the call. He was too proud to ask for help.

It didn't matter.

Everything had led to this moment as they sang songs passed down for generations. Faithful lords and their sons joined in as the bay grew red with blood. Corpses swam at the surface. The sea drank the lifeblood. "Only blood can pay for salvation!"

"Only blood can pay for salvation!"

"Only blood can pay for salvation!"

"What is dead may never die!"

"What is dead may never die!" Balons lords chanted as they cleansed the land and proved themselves devout sons of the Drowned One.

Aeron drank the bloodied water. "Oh, Drowned One. Smash the Greenland ships that come with their false gods. Drown them!"

"Drown them!" It increased in sound until one could not hear one's thoughts.

It was beautiful.

Authors note: So I wanted to explain my thought process with Theon a bit since I think it might be coming out of left field for some of you. Typically, in these fics Theon would stay with Team Stark and become Lord of the Iron Islands. So I read Theons chapters again in Clash of Kings in order to get a feel for the character. At his heart he is very much a selfish, entitled lord with father problems. He very much saw himself as a hostage and apart from the rest of the Stark household. He pretty much made wrong choice after choice and he knows that trying to earn glory and to prove his strength even after he joined Team Greyjoy. He disobeyed Balons command to simply go on raids on the Stony Shore and went to take Winterfell. Guy is also very obssesed with the traditions of the Iron Islands and trying to prove himself as the greatest manliest guy in the world. I couldn't see Ned giving Theon command over any host since he didn't for Loras so I knew that would send him down a spiral. Add in the fact he assigned a guard to watch after him which Ned did in canon and he really saw himself as a captive.

I actually really enjoyed Theon, especially on the show. Alfie is just an amazing actor.

And I'm sorry Bran you didn't get the easy island.

Next up, we shall see the Ladies of Westeros(With a guest star with the Imp) and go on a little tour around the Seven Kingdom. Going to Winterfell, Eyrie, Storms End, Bear Island. Then after that PTSD on the open seas at the Battle for Old Wyk! As always I enjoy seeing the reviews.

Supremus85: Well, you might disagree with this plotline I went down on. The thing is Jasper may distrust pretty much anyone with a pulse and most of the time thats wrong, but on ocassion he is right. Theon is a deeply troubled guy do to how he was raised. If he was raised in a very happy/nuturing environment or if Ned was dead I think he might have gone on to be Lord of Pyke. Hope you enjoy the chapter.

ATP: We still have to get through this war though!

Guest: As for Ned I agree some of these choices are bad logically, but they are more long term problems kind of like Viserys I had a long term problem with keeping his daughter as his heir when it would have been better to name his son. So Ned not stripping Stannis of Dragonstone is bad long term, but you won't see any shortterm blowback. Ned has a couple advantages of being considered a very martial figure in a martial driven society like westeros. Also he has a decent power base in the Lords of the Vale love him for representing their Andal chivarly ideals. He grew up with him. The Lords of the North love him for his leadership was focused on building good relationships with his vassals and he won two wars with them. Plus(Mainly through Jasper) he has rewarded lords with offices of power so they are more loyal to the cause.

But yeah Ned is certainly driven by his personal honor code and it'll eventually come back to bite him. But thats fanfiction tradition!