Blood and Winter

Chapter XXI

It had been a long time since he had been visited by the Old Gods.

Robb had almost forgotten what it was like for his mind to be assaulted by dreams and visions of what the future possibly had in store for him. Yet, despite that, there was no chance Robb would ever forget how dangerously vague they could be. He did not know why, perhaps the Old Gods were limited in how they could interfere with the world and so, could never be clear on what he must do. However, the dreams were never clear, never revealing everything and only ever showing snippets of the wider picture forcing him to try and connect the dots as best as he could.

If even a part of the visions could be correctly understood and connected, then they could be a massive boon when making plans. That insight as to what could come would prove monumental in making decisions that could shift the tide of a conflict in his favour and had done so on many occasions. However, it was truly dangerous to base every decision and plan solely around the visions, especially when they could be so easily misinterpreted.

He had paid the price for that mistake once and had since learned his lesson.

It was learning from that terrible mistake which was why he had survived for so long and accomplished what he had.

"The men are ready to depart, your grace." Randyll Tarly spoke, entering his quarters as Robb strapped the thick fur coat around his neck, Grey Wind rising from its bed of furs on the floor.

"What of the riders sent to search the surrounding lands?" Robb wondered. "Have we any new reports." The tunnel leading out from the Crypts of Winterfell was a worrying thing for him to leave unattended to for very long. It was a quick and easy pathway into Winterfell should enemies ever come and while he did not imagine Winterfell would come under siege any time soon, he was not about to leave an opening like that around for long. Not only that, he wanted to know if there were any tracks that could be discovered to find out what had escaped from that prison.

"They have found an opening, not far from the walls to the north. Whoever escaped must have dug their way to the surface in the midst of the night since no one saw anything. Not even the servants made mention of the Bolton guards finding anyone digging a tunnel." Randyll explained. "But...there were some tracks, most were covered by snow, but by the streams, tracks were found."

"But?" Robb questioned.

"The hounds were supposedly acting strange."

"They were afraid." Robb turned, seeing the strange look on Randyll's face.

Randyll paused, before nodding his head. "They were; yes." But despite his curiosity as to how Robb knew, he did not ask.

"No matter." Robb dismissed the matter, well aware that whatever escaped will be long gone by now. "Let us focus on our march north to the Wall. Ending this war is the most important task at hand and I will not have it delayed any further." Moving forwards, Robb grabbed the spiked crown that he had found within the Crypts of Winterfell, handing it over to his squire who held it in one hand, the other extending the Crown of Winter that had been forged upon Robb's coronation. The older crown was then placed in a bag that the squire held in his hands as both he and Randyll watched Robb put the crown upon his temple.

It was an uncomfortable feeling that he had long since gotten used to, the spikes of the swords digging into his temple.

A stark difference from the smooth and comfortable design of the previous Crown of Winter.

His was forged to be a constant reminder of the weight he bore.

The other was designed to be a comfortable display of power.

An obvious difference.

Stepping out into the corridor, Robb marched through the halls of Winterfell, heading towards the courtyard where his steed and the personal guard would be waiting for him. His army numbering in the tens of thousands, waiting outside his walls ready to depart on one last final march to end this war that had gone on for far too long.

Yet his mind wandered.

His thoughts and focus fixated upon those same visions that returned to him once more and Robb questioned what he had seen and what they meant. They showed the future, a possible one perhaps, or maybe the truth of what was to come. Once more, the Old Gods were providing him with the information that could lead him towards a better future, just as they had before this war even began. But these visions could only be of help to him if he made use of the information in the correct way, even though, like always, it was vague and confusing.

A man with bleeding stones atop his head unleashing a storm of winter from the north.

Dragons from a city of shadows raining fire upon the world.

Fire and Ice in a conflict that engulfs the world.

A silver-furred wolf with yellow eyes shedding its skin to reveal a three-eyed crow.

Four visions and there was the possibility of more, he hoped there was.

Robb did not know what they meant nor would he ask others lest they think him mad with talks of visions and Gods. But for now, Robb would wait before he acted to avoid making the same mistake he had in the past when sending Theon to the Ironborn in hopes it would avoid the very event it caused. Instead, he would bide his time, waiting for information to reveal itself that aligned with the information he had before acting while also preparing to defend himself should he not have been able to stop whatever was to come.

He would not act without proof, but never stand idle and defenceless.

Even with the little information he had, Robb had enough information to prepare for things to come.

There was a threat in the north and a threat from the east.

He would not allow himself to be caught unawares or unprepared, but he would also not act recklessly and without proper thought.

So for now, he would wait and bide his time.


There it was.

Just as they came over the last hill, the horizon stretching out before their eyes, they could finally see it.

The capital city of Westeros.

The source of all political power in the Seven Kingdoms.

Their new kingdom.

Kings Landing.

Yet the war had clearly taken its toll upon the once large and almost insurmountable and impenetrable walls surrounding it. Holes were utterly exposed, parts of the battlements were falling away and other parts of the wall looked to be on the verge of collapse.

Whatever reinforcement that Tyrion and then Aegon had given to the walls upon their respective attempts to prepare the city for siege had not lasted. First under the besieging army of Stannis Baratheon and then under the successful siege of Yohn Royce.

Luckily for them, no one had the money to spare upon rebuilding the walls otherwise Garlan would not have felt as comfortable as they approached it. They were, after all, only a thousand strong, much of the Tyrells army being here already or up North with Robb Stark as he went to war against Stannis.

However, even then, Garlan still did not feel comfortable.

Nor did anyone by the looks on their faces.

Why would they be?

Right outside the walls were thousands upon thousands of tents, the remnants of the Tyrell forces that had been under the command of Dickon Tarly and then Robb Stark upon the Battle of the Bloody Fields. As well as the forces of Aegon Targaryen and Daenerys Targaryen on top of that.

Tens of thousands of men.

All armed and standing guard.

They were lucky that for the most part, the men standing guard upon the walls were Vale men under the command of Yohn Royce. At least with him, their path should not be impeded too much, yet that was not to say there wasn't a chance.

Yohn Royce was a good man, a loyal one, but that did not mean in the weeks since Daenerys had been here that his neutrality had not changed. It was quite possible they were walking right into a trap, it wouldn't be too difficult for a 'prisoner' to get loose and kill them. Or many other ways to kill them in the sea of people they were approaching.

'I can't let that happen.' Garlan swore to himself, sparing a short glance back to the carriage. "Surround the carriage, hands upon your blades. Watch your surroundings carefully and do not let a single man approach unless I give permission."

His orders issued, Garlan took a deep breath and tightened his grip on his blade, never once feeling his nerves calm. He had charged into battle dozens of times and come close to death hundreds more and yet never once did he feel as nervous or as tense as he did now.

But in all those times, his family had never been so near to the danger as they were now.

He could not let anything happen to them.


"Looks like the boys nervous." Beric noted as he rode beside Ned, who had decided against using a carriage as they approached Kings Landing. "I thought one of your son's closest aids would have been able to keep his calm much better than this."

Ned shook his head. "His family are in danger. Even I am nervous due to the life of my grandchild being in such danger." Yet as Ned looked upon the camp, he noticed the Dornish were right upon the outskirts, yet were not in chains. "And the Tyrells and Dornish have never had good relations. Least of all now when they support the Targaryens, the Tyrell's rivals. Garlan has every right to be worried."

"Yet you don't seem overly concerned."

"Because they will do nothing," Ned stated calmly. "My son is up north with over seventy thousand men under his command. Once he is done with Stannis, he shall march south with that army and make sure to exact revenge upon those who let harm come to his child. Whether they had a hand in it or not, I very much doubt Robb would care, nor would I."

"Even doing nothing makes you guilty?" Ned nodded his head at Beric's words who grunted. "Guess we best be alert then as well. Even if you say they will do nothing."

"Oh, they will do something, just not today." There was a strange confidence in his words that made Beric, not for the first time, look upon him strangely. "When the war is over and the armies are returned to their lands when the realm is in too dire of a strait to even think of war, then the moves will be made."

That was how the politics of the south were done.

When the war ended, as the rest of the realm suffered and endured the long, arduous road back to stability and prosperity, the nobles waged a war of plots, schemes and assassinations. No one dared to raise an army, nor could they afford to do so and so, the pen and words were their only weapons. But when they could, they had enjoyed the time of peace too much to risk losing it all in war.

However, eventually, something would have to give and when it did, the entire realm would be plunged into war once more. That was what had led to their current war, the War of Five Kings, perhaps one of the bloodiest conflicts in the history of the Seven Kingdoms long history.

A conflict that had completely reshaped Westeros' political landscape.

"Who do you think will be the first to make a move?" Beric asked.

"The Tyrells." Ned answered firmly, a certainty in his tone that left little room for argument.

"Why?"

"Because while we have been marching to Kings Landing, Daenerys has had free reign to make as many moves as she wishes without much in the way of resistance." Ned explained. "So, if the Tyrells wish to stop any momentum Daenerys has built up, they will need to strike soon and strike hard."


Feeling the cool air wash over her, ruffling her hair, Daenerys looked out from the Red Keep and down to the bustling city below. She could see it, the Tyrells entering the city to the cheers of the people and why wouldn't the people cheer, food was being gifted to them.

Just as the rumours had spread, wherever the Tyrells went, food soon followed.

The starving people of Kings Landing were now experiencing that joy first hand and they loved the Tyrells for it. 'It's just as Tyrion said.' She thought to herself, smiling at the sight. 'But there's no way you have enough food for everyone and those that are not blessed by you, will soon come to hate you. And those that did, when finding you have no food left, will also turn against you.'

Hearing the door open, Daenerys need not turn around to know that it was Tyrion entering inside. "Your grace." He greeted, already pouring himself a cup of wine. "Shall we head down and greet our guests?"

"I suppose we should," Daenerys admitted, turning away from the city and returning back to her room. "How do we expect them to move when they do arrive?"

"Considering how long it's been since the announcement of Margaery's pregnancy, I imagine she has either given birth on the journey down or is near to doing so." Tyrion murmured, Unsullied guards forming up behind them. "But I imagine that they will have Margaery hidden away inside her room for no one to see until the Tyrells have fully settled themselves inside."

"Why?"

"To make the reveal of the prince even more impactful," Tyrion said. "They'll first try and get a gauge of where the loyalties of the nobles and courtiers lay before revealing the child."

"And if it is not a prince?"

"That is where things get a little more difficult." He replied, but smiled. "However, we have no need to worry. The Tyrells have exhausted much of their resources in the war and there aren't too many things they can do without risking further war that will turn the King against them. We, on the other hand, have shipments of food and wealth coming in very soon. No more than a week away."


It had been the first time many of them had been in the same room as one another.

They were a strange group.

Yet they were here together and all for the same reasons.

Each of them studied one another, trying to figure out what the other was thinking while simultaneously revealing nothing. They were each of them some of the most powerful men and women in the world, possessing the power to reshape the political landscape of Westeros if they so desired.

Yet neither said anything as they sat around the table.

"I've never been one much for silences." Tyrion broke the silence, an unusual move, but one that suited his character. "If we have nothing to say, perhaps we should simply retire for the day."

"There is no need for that," Eddard replied, gaze flickering to the oddly dressed men that stood behind him and Daenerys Targaryen who had been staring upon Olenna. "We are all here in service of my son, should we not be working with one another on how to ensure that the realm will be secure and stable once this war has come to an end."

"Indeed we should," Olenna responded, having been ignoring Daenerys entirely, instead focusing on the Imp who she recognised as the more dangerous of the Targaryen faction. "Unfortunately, as a result of the war, the Reach has expended much of its harvest and our stores to support King Robb in his pursuit of peace. Starvation will soon become rampant across Westeros and with it, a high potential of disease."

A strange tactic, admitting her weakness.

But one that everyone had already been aware of.

Olenna knew that and rather than keep it secret, had instead purposefully revealed it and therefore, robbed both of them of using that to damage the Tyrells. There was still damage to be done by revealing it as she had, but Olenna had sufficiently eliminated much of the damage in the process.

"Perhaps the wealth of Mereen could be used to help us in fixing this situation?" Olenna wondered, placing the power in the hands of the Targaryens in doing so. However, even in the aftermath of this bloody conflict, there were many, many mouths to feed in Westeros and that came with it, not only power but responsibility.

Failure to handle that responsibility and power properly, then the backlash would be crippling.

Yet Tyrion did not bat an eye.

"A letter has already been sent to Mereen." Daenerys replied. "We have purchased food from the Free Cities that should be arriving in a few days' time. It will not be enough to solve the long-term damages of the war, but it should be enough to mitigate the short-term damages."

"As you know." Tyrion continued. "The War of Five Kings has been extremely costly to all sides, especially the smallfolk. And as you said, there are many mouths to feed, we cannot solve that problem with a single shipment, nor would it be wise to expend all our money on food without also solving the many other crises that we will face in the aftermath of this war. We do have possible solutions that may bare fruit in the future, but for now, it is our belief that solving the short-term problems will be more profitable for us all."

"Do you?" Olenna asked dubiously. "Are you willing to risk your life with that belief? Because if the smallfolk do riot, they will all know who to blame and it will be you, Lady Targaryen." Here, Olenna looked directly at Daenerys for the first time. "And if you fail, House Targaryen might well and truly be wiped from the world of Westeros."

"Or perhaps, we shall be praised for our handling of the crisis." Daenerys was far from deterred though. "Perhaps it will be instead those that were unable to handle the situation and handed it off to others that might face the consequences."

"I'm certain my son will trust both of you to handle the situation to the best of your abilities." Eddard intervened. "And I'm certain he will aid you, Lady Targaryen in your efforts to solve the food crisis that will soon befall Westeros. He will not wish to see the realm he has fought to secure fall apart so soon after he has achieved his goals."

"Of that, I have no doubt." Daenerys agreed.

Eddard then turned the course of the conversation away from the food, that had already been handed over to the Targaryens. "Instead, we should be focusing our efforts on to rebuilding the infrastructure of the Westerlands, the Vale and the Riverlands. The latter is a vital trading hub for not only all of Westeros but also for our trade with Essos. Without it, we are losing a great deal of money and trade."

"The securing of the south has already seen trade return to the Riverlands," Tyrion answered.

"But not all of it." Olenna continued. "Only when the war is over with shall the trade routes of the Riverlands be in full use and it will take time before it ever reaches the level it was at previously."

Here, Willas, who had been sat quietly throughout the course of the conversation made himself known. "We have come up with an idea, that might speed up that process even further, but also open up more opportunities for trade all across Westeros." Placing a map on the table, he unrolled it to reveal that its contents related to the western shorelines of the North, Westerlands, Riverlands and Reach.

But more importantly, the entirety of the Iron Islands.

"King Robb has made his desires to ensure that the Ironborn are dealt with very clear." Willas explained. "It is why when sending part of the Redwyne fleet to the east to deal with King Aegon Targaryen, he asked us to keep a third behind in the west to sail north to the Iron Islands."

Daenerys and Tyrion both spared a glance at Eddard, trying to gauge his reaction only to see that he did not seem surprised in the slightest by this. 'Which means, he knew of this beforehand.' Daenerys thought to herself.

'Are you their ally, or perhaps, simply our enemy?' Tyrion wondered, focusing once more back upon Willas.

"We are aware of part of the Ironborn Fleet returning back to the Iron Islands. But they are a fraction of their original number and thanks to Rodrick Forrester, Victarion Greyjoy and his fleet have been destroyed. The portion of the Redwyne Fleet we have sent to secure the Iron Islands should succeed in short order." Willas described and while his face gave nothing away, the tone in his voice said a great deal. "At which point, we intend to turn the Iron Islands into a trading hub of the west, just like the Riverlands."

"To do that, you will need money." Tyrion pointed out, well aware that a great deal of the Reach's and the Tyrell's wealth came from agriculture. "And considering the current situation, you don't have much food or money."

"You're right, we don't." Olenna was hardly deterred though by this. "But we are aware of Illyrio Mopatis who supported Aegon. He is one of the wealthiest men in Essos and we have already contacted the Iron Bank, they will be sending over an envoy so that we might negotiate the terms of the Iron Thrones' current debt."

Tyrion frowned, going still.

"It is our intention to first ask of the Iron Bank a small loan of a million Dragons to help begin the rebuilding process," Olenna said. "After that, we will negotiate the release of Illyrio Mopatis, under the condition that he takes the current standing debt of the Iron Throne to the Iron Bank which I believe will stand at near eight million Dragons, onto himself."

"What an excellent idea." Tyrion agreed, though no smile was upon his lips. "I had been thinking of something similar myself. The King shall surely be overjoyed upon sharing this news with him."

"He will already be aware of this plan." Willas cut in. "We dispatched a letter weeks ago, informing him of our intentions."

"And have you received word back?" Eddard wondered.

Willas shook his head. "Not at the moment, but in a few days I am certain we will have."

Eddard nodded his head. "I would be most pleased if you might share the contents of the letter with me when it arrives. And I do hope that should the meeting take place with the envoy from the Iron Bank before my son returns that I might be included."

"Of course," Olenna replied. "As the father of King Robb Stark and Warden of the North, you are the only one who can best represent your son in meetings of these scales should he not be present. Though, I would ask that you allow my son, Willas to join you in this meeting, to ensure the Iron Bank does not try anything. We have had many dealings with them in the past and they can be quite cunning and sly."

Eddard bowed his head.

Tyrion tapped his fingers on the table in thought before stopping. "Well, I suppose that this has been quite a productive meeting. But I suppose you have travelled quite a fair distance and must be quite tired. Perhaps were should convene at a later date."

The contents of this meeting had revealed quite a bit and while in some cases was worrying, Tyrion was far from overly concerned. Things were just beginning and like he had expected, the Tyrells had come out swinging. They had made the first move and now it was up to them to respond appropriately, but doing so in a rush would only leave them exposed.

Besides, he already had a few ideas that might help him in the future.


"That went well." Tyrion snarked, taking one large gulp from his goblet as he waddled towards the table where Daenerys sat, staring out through the balcony and onto the horizon. From what he had noticed, she had been doing that quite often, her gaze focused on the east, perhaps longing to return to Essos.

He hoped she did.

Tyrion did not fancy spending his life locked in a political battle with the Queen of Thorns.

Though she might not have much longer to live, she still had her grandsons and granddaughter to carry on her legacy. A legacy that even his father had been wary of, a threat he had recognised and one that he had tried desperately to stamp out through Robert Baratheon.

"Did it?" Distracted, Daenerys didn't pick up on his sarcasm.

"Not in the slightest." Tyrion replied simply. "We are now stuck with the duty of solving the food crisis here in Westeros thanks to the actions of Olenna admitting her own weakness." That was certainly not something Tyrion had expected, but he could not fault the way in which she had done it.

Especially when they considered how the Tyrells had recently backed away from the Vale.

It was more than likely that they had a similar plan for both the food crisis and the Vale, something Tyrion at the moment had no answer for.

"Then what do we do?" She asked.

Tyrion shrugged. "In my opinion, fuck off back to Essos and abandon the shithole for good." His response was blunt, yet something he had said on many occasions before. "However, even if you choose to stay, there's not much we can do."

It was as he had already explained to Daenerys in the past, it would take the entirety of their wealth to solve the food crisis in Westeros or close to it if they played it smart. However, that would solve nothing as they would be left with very little ways to respond to the Tyrells afterwards. Money meant power in Westeros and without it, one could do very little about the political landscape.

"The Tyrells are biding their time." Tyrion continued. "They are doing with the food exactly what they are doing with the Vale. Letting us take all the risk and do all the work. No doubt once we have laid the groundwork in the Vale and started to solve some of the major food problems in Westeros, they will swoop in and claim as much of the rewards as they can. We do all the work and take all the risk, while they simply bide their time for the rewards to come."

Daenerys frowned. "Then we strike back."

It was a response that Tyrion had expected, though perhaps it was the look in her eyes that made him pause.

"And how do you intend to do that?"

"They revealed their plans for the Iron Islands because they do not fear a response from us." Tyrion nodded his head at her words. "But it does not have to come from us, instead, it could come from a place that would be most impacted by the success of the Iron Islands."

"The Riverlands." He murmured, beginning to see where she was coming from.

It was a good plan and one that could work in two ways if played correctly. Daenerys might not only be able to slow the Tyrell's plans for the Iron Islands, perhaps even completely derail it though Tyrion doubted that would happen. However, it would also serve to bring much of the Riverlands back to Daenerys. After all, there were many lords in the Riverlands that support Margaery as Queen, but if they were to learn about what the Tyrell's were planning, they would surely not be in support of it.

"However," Tyrion had to point out one thing before they continued. "That is not guaranteed to be the case. Her son might be fool enough to reveal his plan to us in such a fashion and with such obvious weakness, but Olenna is not. She must have some way to appease the Lords that support Margaery to the point they overlook this fact."

Daenerys would not be deterred and showcasing an understanding of the Lords of Westeros, she came up with the perfect response. "Then we simply need to provide them something to sway their minds."


Biting into the grape, Olenna leaned back into the chair as she looked out over the gardens, turning to see her granddaughter Margaery who lowered into a seat beside her. "I had not thought to see you about so soon?"

"I needed some fresh air and besides, Garlan is there," Margaery answered, taking a moment to just close her eyes and seemingly relax for the first time in a while. But as she did, the stress of her journey and the pregnancy showed itself, Olenna frowning slightly.

"You will need to tend to yourself before your husband returns." She said curtly. "His second wife, the Targaryen is a beauty, a rare one indeed. From what Garlan has said, they were in bed together for much of his campaign against Aegon. It would not do for you to look as you do, and she to look as she does."

Margaery frowned, a rare flash of anger crossing her face. "Do not worry, grandmother." She replied equally as curtly. "I am aware of my duty as a wife."

"So long as you do not forget."

"It was not me who revealed our plan for the Iron Islands." Margaery shot back, Olenna laughing lightly.

"My dear child," Olenna replied almost pityingly. "Did you think I would have revealed those plans without expecting the Targaryens to respond? You must still be tired from the pregnancy to think that I have not planned for their response. No doubt they will try to derail our plans, somehow by targeting the lords of the Riverlands. But that's fine, they are becoming more of a nuisance nowadays."

The Riverlands were not prosperous, they were the most damaged by the War of Five Kings, but the groundwork that had been established for them to grow was clear for all to see. Each of the lords there understood that as well and with it, they were beginning to grow more arrogant.

It had taken a great deal of time and effort to convince them to choose to support Margaery, the woman in question doing much of the work. But it had taken even more effort and money to convince them to overlook what they were planning for the Iron Islands.

Now they were demanding more, all based on their perceived worth.

"It will take them years to recoup all that they lost from this war and as a result, just as much time to actually be able to have voices loud enough to influence the politics of Westeros," Olenna said, unconcerned by this. "No, our attention should be focused on Edmure Tully, Jason Mallister and Tytos Blackwood. Those three have the most influence in the Riverlands and more than likely, will have just as great an influence over the new era to come."

"So, we simply cut the others loose?" Olenna nodded her head. "But they will still be able to slow the progress of the Iron Islands?"

"Robb Stark will go for the idea, it is an intelligent one and he is fond of intelligent ideas," Olenna explained. "As King, what he says go and if he returns to Kings Landing still uncertain on the idea, it will be up to you to convince him to go for it. Daenerys will no doubt do what she can to convince him to oppose the idea and men are easily influenced by sex."

Another not-so-subtle hint about her appearance that did not go unnoticed by Margaery whose frown deepened further. This was the side of her grandmother she had seen a few times over the course of the war and she had never liked it.

"In the meantime, leave the Riverlands to the Targaryens, let her deal with their arrogance. We shall instead focus our attention upon the Iron Bank, the King and finally, the Triachy." That made Margaery pause, looking at her grandmother in confusion.

The Triachy or more commonly known as the Kingdom of Three Daughters was an alliance formed between three of the Free Cities, Myr, Lys and Tyrosh. It had been formed in 96 AC and stood as one of the major powers in Essos, a rival to Braavos and a serious threat to Westeros for some time. That was until its dissolution after a civil war in 130 AC over one hundred and seventy years ago.

Since then, the three cities had been hostile and in some cases, at all-out war with one another ever since.

"When the Targaryens lay claim to part of the Disputed Land, it will come across as Westeros wishing to expand further eastward. Our sudden removal of debt to the Iron Bank will lead us to then having the money to actually raise an army and with a King such as Robb Stark and all the stories of his conquests, it will all paint the picture of a young conqueror wishing to expand." Olenna explained. "Naturally, in the face of such odds, it's only natural for old allies to put aside their differences and face a new threat."

"You would plunge Westeros into war again?"

Olenna shook her head. "Oh no." She answered. "But I would make the Targaryen's standing drop even further in the eyes of the King."


Feeling the cold wind brush against his skin, Jon closed his eyes, letting the cool fresh air of the morning wash over him. It had been snowing over the course of the night and from the feeling in the air, it was set to do so again. The short break in the skies, clouds absent as the sun shone down upon them just that, a short break.

A temporary reprieve.

Luckily for them, their group was small making their movements through the harsh terrain of the North speedy, each of their members calling this land their home. The army they were following and closing on could not say the same, their march leaving deep imprints in the snow that had yet to entirely be swept away, each step short and forceful.

The men of the south were unused to such weather and one could tell from the tracks they left. They were forcing themselves to move, all wishing to return home but no doubt forced to keep marching in pursuit of their lord's desires for glory and a chance to earn the favour of the King.

Turning on his heels, Jon moved his cloak to one side, as he made his way towards the small assortment of tents that had made their temporary camp. His loyal Direwolf, Ghost followed behind, almost blending into their snowy surroundings, but Jon could feel him by his side. The warmth his body exuded served to heat him up in the cold weather.

Parting the flap of the centre tent, Jon entered to find Robb dressed and ready to move, sitting upon his bed of furs as he read the letter in his hands. "Anything of note?" Jon wondered, having seen the messenger bird arrive earlier, but the letter had been quickly taken by Olyvar Frey and delivered to Robb directly.

"News of the south." Robb answered, folding it up as he rose to his feet, Grey Wind copying his owner's movements.

Jon could see the look in Robb's eyes and knew there was more to it than just that, but like always Robb kept things close to his chest. Even as a child, Robb had kept some secrets, but never like this and it was another reminder of how the war had changed them all.

Yet Jon was also reminded of what had happened in the Crypts, the strangeness of Robb's actions upon touching that strange crown found in the prison. It was a mystery and one that Robb seemed to have some vague understanding of, but one that Jon was left completely in the dark about.

However, for whatever reason, despite having always moved with a sense of purpose, something about Robb was different. There was even more surety in his actions, a decisiveness that was always present yet...amplified. But also an urgency to his actions, his gaze and mind focused on things beyond his conflict with Stannis.

Whereas before his focus had been upon the Burning Stag and then later, the conflict of his wives, Robb's mind seemed preoccupied with something further beyond that. Jon couldn't tell why, but he could hear it in his words, the way he seemed to be focused less and less on his current objective and focusing more on the future.

Jon would not deny that he was worried about what impact this could have.

Even though he had no doubts that they would prevail over Stannis, that did not mean they could go into this engagement distracted. If they did, they would be left exposed and Stannis would capitalise upon that without hesitation.

"What's happened?" Jon asked, hoping to probe Robb's closed mind and maybe offer some advice.

"Nothing extreme." Robb replied as they exited out into the cold outdoors, Olyvar having already gathered the horses as other members of Robb's personal guard were mounted and ready to move. "The Tyrells have simply suggested the idea of turning the Iron Islands into the trading hub of the western shoreline."

"A ploy to weaken the Riverlands." It was an obvious ploy, but one that was expected considering the powerhouse that the Riverlands was becoming. "But also a mean to expand their own power."

Robb nodded his head.

The Tyrells had, to no one's surprise, contributed a great deal to his campaign against all his enemies. Naturally, their reward would be large and they would expect influence, it was the only thing a house like the Tyrells would desire. They had wealth, and they had power, but one thing the Lannisters and Baratheons had robbed them of was influence.

Having control of the Iron Islands after its reformation would give them that influence.

"You have to be wary, Robb," Jon said the two mounted their horses for another day's journey to catch up to the main army led by Randyll Tarly. "Give the Tyrells too much power and they will try and get rid of you."

It was an unnecessary statement, Jon knew Robb was already aware of that fact, but he felt the need to say it anyway. Robb was his brother and their family had lost too much already, losing anything else would be too much for them to bare.

"I know." Robb answered.

There was a confidence in his words, one that said he had a plan, the one that left no room for doubt or question. But though relieving, Jon's eyes flickered to the crown that peeked out from the sachel on the back of Robb's horse.

It was the same crown that had been within the crypts, the ones that caused the strangeness in Robb lately. He didn't like the grip it seemed to hold upon his brother, a man who had quite clearly grown used to relying on no one but himself. Yet now seemed to keep the crown upon him at all times, it was no different to the way in which he seemed to pray to the Old Gods more frequently than Jon ever having remembered him to do so.

Jon would not question Robb's devotion to the Old Gods, he had seen the horrors of war himself and had also heard the tales of his brother's battles in the south. To not understand why someone would turn to religion, believing that it was some divine being that protected them only made sense.

However, the crown was different and that didn't even begin to touch upon the strange feeling that surrounded it.

-X-

"The Last Hearth has fallen." Ser Rolland Storm uttered, Stannis tapping his finger rhythmically against the table as he looked at the Knight before him. "Breakstone Hill has come under siege and should fall in a few days' time. Karhold remains untouched, but it is likely that Randyll Tarly will dispatch soldiers from the main force to take it while Lord Karstark is dealing with the Boltons stationed at the Dreadfort."

They were being entrapped, Stannis' frown deepening ever so slightly, an unnoticeable shift from his usual countenance, but he was displeased by the news. Things were moving too quickly, the Stark forces approaching sooner than expected and closing in upon them.

Soon there would be no escape except through battle and they were not in a position to resist a siege. The walls were still being strengthened, hardly capable of withstanding a full siege. To be able to secure the Wall as he planned, he would need more time.

"How did the Last Hearth fall so quickly?" Ser Davos, recently returned from his garrison wondered. "Though the defenders were few, it should have taken more than a day to take it even with a force that size, lest they wished to incur uncessary losses."

"From the reports of a survivor," Rolland began. "It seems that a vanguard force of a few thousand led by Lord Umber moved ahead of the main force. He set the bare bones of a siege and personally led the charge up the walls. The losses on their part were large, Lord Umber personally injured, but they were overwhelming."

"The Mad Giant." Another man muttered, the moniker of the new Lord Umber well known throughout the lands. He was in many ways, reaching a level of prestige greater than his fathers and with a reputation that may someday rival that of the Mountains.

A man of that calibre serving the Wolf King with absolute loyalty was a scary thought to imagine. They were lucky then that he was injured, though if he was anything like his father, it would not be enough to keep him down for long.

"We have to hope the Boltons prove more of a challenge to Lord Karstark, enough so that Robb Stark dispatches men to aid him." It was a common consensus that to give them time, everything relied upon the Boltons now. "If that happens, then Robb's main force will be even smaller in size, enough that we might be able to capitalise upon this."

"Doubtful." Stannis stated. "But do not worry, our hands do not rest in the Boltons, but instead, they lay in the hands of R'hllor."

Here, many looked from Stannis to the Red Woman herself, Melisandra who smiled that mysterious smile she always gave. "I have seen it in the flames. Robb Stark shall soon perish in the shadows of night. This war will be won by the Azor Ahai."


It truly was a magnificent sight to behold.

The Wall.

A structure formed entirely of ice and spanning as far and as high as the eyes could see, the wintery mist spreading down and leading to the Wall expanding almost into what looked to be the sky. Yet as many looked upon the magnificent structure for the first time, gazes filled with awe and trepidation at the possible siege ahead, Robb's gaze was focused elsewhere.

The walls surrounding the fortress of Castle Black, the mains stronghold of the Night's Watch. They were strange in their structure, looking to have been created from raised earth, compacted into the vein structure of a wall.

It hardly looked sturdy or that effective.

But Robb doubted Stannis would have bet everything on those walls to hold in the case of a siege if they weren't stronger than they looked. This meant this siege would be even more difficult than he imagined, especially when considering the reports he had received from Samwell Tarly and Joer Mormont about what was really in those walls.

A strange magical compound given to Stannis by Merwyn the Mage that set quickly and was as hard as rock. Wood from ships provides the structure with large rocks and stones being mixed in with this compound. With many piles of earth packed on top of that.

A very rough and strange wall, yet one that looked imposing from a distance.

Then when considering some of the defences of the Wall meant to keep Wildlings out had been repurposed and were now being ready to be used to keep him out, made this siege even more difficult.

"Set up camp here." Robb ordered. "Ser Brynden, Lord Tarly, Lord Mallister, Lord Blackwood, Ser Barristan, come with me."

Out of all his commanders, those were his most experienced commanders amongst all of them. Each has proved themselves in previous conflicts or directly under his command that they had the expertise to match himself in some regards.

Robb was well aware of his own tactical expertise, it was why he had been able to earn their respect and accomplish what he had. However, Robb was also aware that he was by no means perfect, nor the best in every aspect. It was why he had spent a great deal of time studying the men around him as they too studied him.

Yet Robb had learnt more from them, expanding his own knowledge and skill set. Now, whereas at the beginning of the war he had relied upon Ser Brynden, Lord Mallister and others, he was now confident that he could do this on his own.

But gaining guidance and sharing ideas was never something he was against doing either. Even now, Robb was not perfect, his battle against Aegon Targaryen proved that there were still areas in which he could be beaten and even outsmarted and he would need to keep surrounding himself with people like them to cover for those weaknesses.

As they moved to a crest of a hill, gaining a better vantage point of the Wall, the vast army behind them setting up camp, Robb kept his gaze upon Castle Black. "I intend to negotiate with Stannis Baratheon."

"Your grace?" Lord Mallister questioned, confused as to why this was even an option. Though he did recognise the danger the Wall possessed, he too had read the reports, Lord Mallister was confident they could succeed with the army they possessed and the commanders that led it.

"Though Stannis is a gifted siege commander, your grace." Lord Blackwood agreed with the Lord of Seagard. "And the fortifications he has built are supposedly sturdy, we should not be hasty to negotiate."

"Test the walls first." Lord Tarly said shortly.

It was a sentiment that Robb had expected and had considered himself for a long time upon his journey from Winterfell. However, this was not about winning the war anymore, not about defeating his opponents.

This was about preparing for the future.

"What are you thinking?" Blackfish asked, aware as everyone was that Robb was planning something, yet the only one willing to ask outright in such a fashion.

Robb rose his hand, indicating to the Wall. "Do you know why the Wall was erected in the first place?"

"To defend against the Wildlings, separating Westeros from the Land Beyond the Wall." Ser Barristan answered, though his voice was dubious. "Yet, you are inviting the Wildlings south."

"Aye, I am." Robb said, but then shook his head as he looked back at his group of commanders. "But you are mistaken, the Wall was not crafted to keep the Wildlings and their land separate from Westeros."

"You speak of the myth of the Others." Randyll stated, sounding almost disappointed in him for believing such a thing.

"I do." Robb nodded his head.

"That is a myth." Lord Blackwood said quickly.

"Is it?"

"Of course."

"And where is your proof?" Robb pressed.

"And where is yours?" Blackfish was the only one who dared speak to him in that way, yet it was a question Robb was hoping would be asked.

"I suppose you could say I have no proof that the Others truly exist." Robb replied. "Magic is a thing that has long since disappeared from this world after all. But as magic disappeared, so did the Others and as magic is returning, so too will the Others."

"Magic?" Lord Tarly scoffed, sounding truly appalled by his words.

Yet Ser Barristan was quiet for a moment, his gaze focused on Robb who looked back and slowly, realisation dawned upon him. "Dragons."

It was but a whisper, but one that was heard clearly.

"Not only that." Robb continued, eyes closing for a moment and then they opened to reveal they were pure white.

Suddenly and violently, all their horses throw them off, each collapsing to the ground, breath rushing from their lungs. Yet each had the sense to brace themselves as they were taught to do when horses suddenly acted up.

But nothing ever came of it.

Nor could they hear the sound of panicked neighs and the sound of horses galloping and jerking around. Instead, each opened their eyes to see the horses coming towards Robb Stark and forming behind him in perfect formation.

It was unnatural.

"T-this?" Lord Mallister muttered, in shock and disbelief at what he was witnessing, Robb's eyes slowly taking shape once more as the horses shook their head.

"Magic is very much real, my lords." Robb told them, dismounting from his horse and moving towards them. "Dragons are very much real. The Others are very much real and they have already begun to make their move. I invited the Wildlings south to stop them from being numbers in the Other's growing army. I negotiate with Stannis to preserve the lives of as many soldiers as possible for the next Long Night."

One of the horses then came forward, Robb taking out the crown forged for him at Riverrun, placing it upon his head. "Each of you have proven yourselves in the present and the past that you are capable warriors and commanders, the best in the realm. But the War of Five Kings was only the beginning of what is to come and now we face a new challenge, one greater than ever before."

"Proof of the Other's existence is something I cannot provide, but I have proved the existence of magic. The Dragons are proof enough, extinct creatures, things thought to be only myth is right before your eyes." Robb indicated to the Wall. "Why would Brandon the Builder craft such an extravagant and large structure to simply keep the Wildlings out of Westeros, have you ever questioned it?"

"The politics of Westeros do not interest me." He continued, the men slowly rising to their feet, on a lower elevation putting him above them all. "Call me a madman if you wish. Your loyalty is not what I ask for, nor is it your support. What I ask for is your will to survive. For if we do not work together to prepare for the Others, then Westeros and everyone within it will perish."

The crown and the visions had shown him enough, Jon had confirmed the rest. Now all that was left was to prepare for the rest and this all began with bringing Stannis other to his side.

Perhaps not as allies, but they needed this war to end and for Westeros to begin preparing for the Long Night and it all started right here.

With these men.


The sound originating from the tent was loud, echoing across the snowy landscape of the North, washing over the large army encamped around it. A gathering of nobles, all chattering and gathered in one place, the large tent set in the middle of the camp as they prepared for the long siege that awaited them. It was a large tent, one bigger than usual and the size of a large home, standing like a palace of cloth and fabric in the sea of tents surrounding it.

As he approached, the guards stationed outside opened the entrance for him, Jon was greeted with the sight of lords seated on long tables engrossed in conversation with food and drink before them. It was less of a war meeting and more of a feast, a party celebrating the end of the war before it even began.

Such was their confidence in victory that they looked upon this siege as insignificant.

They held no doubt that they would defeat Stannis and that Robb would be the victor, the new King of Westeros. As a result, they were working hard to try and curry the favour of lords and nobles around them, worming their way up the ladder in times of war before rewards were meted out. It would do them well to earn the friendship and favour of lords and houses that had performed well under Robb Stark while they were still 'weak and small' so that they might use that to their advantage in the future.

Even though the war had not been won.

Even though one foe still stood in their path

The nobles did not care.

Only one thing was on their mind and that was the furthering of their houses standing, the enhancement of their power and status. In their eyes, the time of swords and war was over, now it was the time for words and politics and the atmosphere within reflected that shift. However, Jon noticed that amongst this sea of people, a small group was different.

Naturally, they were the ones surrounding the King, his closest confidants and most trusted commanders.

Moving calmly through the crowd of lords and nobles, ignoring the looks and whispers he received upon pushing past a few, Jon made his way directly towards his brother, the King. Robb noticed his approach, eyes momentarily flickering up to see him before returning to listen to what Lord Marq Piper had to tell him.

"Anything?" Jon asked Owen who was positioned nearby, but distant from the table. They couldn't hear much of the conversation taking place, the chatter from the surrounding tables drowning them out.

"Not much." Owen replied. "Just sharing ideas on what Stannis' response will be, especially without the messenger's return."

"He still hasn't been released?" Jon asked dubiously, three days having gone by since they had sent a messenger to speak with Stannis about opening negotiation on neutral territory. Why Robb wanted to negotiate with the man, Jon did not know nor did anyone. However, Robb had been adamant about it and so, they had no choice but to follow his wishes.

Owen shook his head. "No."


"We should take this as a sign of Stannis' unwillingness to negotiate." Lord Marq Piper said, looking to Robb who remained silent. "Days have gone by, plenty of time for him to choose a time and place, yet we have heard nothing. It is clear war is his choice. He believes he can beat us with his fortifications, beat back our armies and outsmart us all. He is a madman, a fool."

"If war was his choice, he would have sent us back the head of our messenger." Lord Randyll Tarly responded. "Thirty-five times Lord Tyrell tried to negotiate with that man during the Siege of Storm's End. Thirty-five heads were the answer we received."

Ser Barristan frowned. "We are to base our opinion of his choice based on the lack of head we have received?" He wondered bemusedly. "That seems more foolish to me."

"Another messenger should be sent." Lord Mallister suggested. "Make it clear we are determined to negotiate, but also make clear if he does not respond to this summons, war will be the only avenue left for him."

Robb looked to Lord Blackwood. "Do you believe we can take the Wall?"

There was a pause, Tytos considering his words carefully. "If this had been the Castle Black and other Keeps previously, I would have had no doubt in our success. It would have been costly, even without proper defences. But now, from the reports, it's clear that taking the castle will be impossible without severe losses. Stannis is also not a man above motivating his men into cannibalism and with fanatic followers in his new god, R'hllor. It's likely that they will go to extreme lengths in order to resist any attempted taking of the Keeps. Short of aid from the Night's Watch, we will have little chance of taking the Keeps."

Deaths of the magnitude required to take the Wall were precisely what Robb wanted to avoid and they knew that. Though many did not fully believe his story of the Others, they were all hard-pressed to deny what they had witnessed of his powers, even now they could not fully comprehend what had happened. Robb clearly believed there was a threat laid in the land Beyond-the-Wall greater than the Wildlings and with the magic they had seen and the Dragons possessed by the Targaryens, it was something they while hesitant to believe, were not going to ignore.

But even then, if they took the Wall by force, the damage that would result in was enormous.

The War of Five Kings had already cost many thousands of lives and millions of Gold Dragons. If things continued like this, Westeros would be put into a situation that would take years for them to recover from, preserving lives was of the utmost importance. Yet at the same time, they needed to end this war quickly before their supplies ran out.

"Send another messenger." Robb finally answered. "It is clear Stannis is waiting for something and we shall take advantage of that."

"How so?"

"Each messenger will be given the task of passing on our message to Stannis," Robb explained. "But they will also be passing on a message to the Night's Watch. We will use them to our advantage to weaken Stannis' position as much as possible so that if we are forced to take the Wall by force, we can. Send ravens to Mance Ryder also, if he wishes to come south, he will have to prove himself by taking the Wall for himself. In the meantime, we will wait for Lord Redwyne and his fleet to arrive."

Surround Stannis on all sides, slowly closing in until there was no escape.

Remove his options one by one.

If he had no intention of negotiating, Stannis would soon learn he made a terrible miscalculation.

This was Robb's home, the place of his birth and Stannis would soon learn it was a harsh place that did not treat outsiders nicely. Stannis would realise early on that he made an egregious miscalculation in coming here for security. Robb was willing to extend an offer, a way out, a path to survival and if Stannis was fool enough to ignore that, then death would be the only option left for him.


They were alone.

Bereft of any aid from their respective armies and followers.

Two men, alone and exposed to their enemies and allies alike, easy pickings for any would-be man with ambitions.

Yet both remained firm and undeterred, faces calm and relaxed as they gazed upon one another from atop the back of their horses. Neither said anything for a time, just quietly observing the other, placing a face to the name of the enemy they had been preparing to fight against for some time. Whether the face of the enemy matched with the one they had conjured in their heads was not clear, both men letting nothing showcase upon their faces.

"You accepted my offer." It was not a question, but a statement of fact.

They were both here, meeting alone and without any allies.

That was proof enough.

"I have." Stannis responded, voice rough and unyielding.

Robb kept his gaze upon Stannis, noticing that though he was the first to speak, it was Stannis who was the first to gaze upon the army he had brought with him. The cool, wintery mist had begun to dissipate ever so slightly, a few thousand in plain sight to see, flags of the Westerosi houses displayed proudly, but a fraction of the men he had brought with him. "Are you curious, why I asked to negotiate with you?"

"You will lose." Stannis' answer was odd, but not unexpected. "My fortifications are solid. My armies are loyal and prepared to give their lives in service of R'hllor. You wished to not face me upon battle and so, you came to surrender to me."

Robb smiled ruefully. "A mistaken belief." He replied. "I came to see if there was not a way for us to solve the problems between us without bloodshed. This war has gone on long enough." Here, Robb's gaze narrowed, one hand resting upon the handle of his blade, Stannis mirroring him. "However, do not doubt that I am prepared to take the Wall if war is your choice. I have fought this war for four years now, defeating all my foes no matter what stood in my way. You will be just another name in the history books who was foolish enough to stand in my way also. Another fool who did not learn that most valuable lesson."

"Fool?" Stanns murmured dangerously. "You, a boy dare call me a fool?"

"Then prove me wrong." Robb interjected. "Let us negotiate here as Kings. Solve this crisis before it must develop into war and costs many more thousands of lives. You and I both know that Westeros cannot sustain a war for much longer. The damage that will result from this conflict will be felt for many years and if we choose to pursue the path of war, we will make Westeros feel it for many years more."

"Unlike you, boy," Robb did not so much as bat an eye at the way Stannis referred to him. "My God is the one true God and R'hllor shall guide me through those harsh times. Under his guidance and protection, I shall lead Westeros to a new era of prosperity."

Robb frowned momentarily, realising that this would not work. "What of our family's history?" He wondered. "The Baratheons and Starks need not be enemies. Renly was willing to negotiate with me. My father and Robert were more than friends, they were brothers. That in some ways makes us akin to family also."

"Did you not proclaim me to be a Kinslayer?" Stannis pointed out. "If I murdered my brother by birth, what makes you think that I would not kill others? Including a boy I have never met? Tell me, boy, did you really come here, send many messengers to negotiate simply to prattle on about such fanciful and meaningless things? If so, you have disappointed me."

Robb sighed. "...I suppose such things are pointless to men like you and I." He replied, looking to the sky, unable to see the sky, the mist and clouds that had rolled in over the course of the last few nights plunging them into darkness, their respective torches the only thing giving them light. "So, I suppose I should speak of something meaningful, something we both know to exist and the biggest threat to Westeros. One greater than any man or army could ever be."

"Such as?" By the look in Stannis' eyes, he was curious.

Curious to see if Robb knew the truth as he did.

"The Others."

That spark of curiosity grew at that moment. "So, you know of them?"

Robb nodded his head. "I do." He said. "And I know of the threat they pose to all of Westeros. I know of why you are desperate to become King of Westeros and unite the Seven Kingdoms. I know why you believe yourself to be the only one capable of defeating them."

"Desperate?" Stannis questioned. "I am not desperate to become King. Desperation implies the possibility of failure and I will not fail. Our war has only just begun Robb Stark and it shall be you who falls and I who rises."

"Our war has only just begun, of that, I have no doubt." Robb replied. "But what if I offered you a temporary truce."

Stannis rose a brow. "Your meaning?"

"Being King is something I have never held much desire for." Robb explained. "It was my bannermen who proclaimed me as such for their own reasons. I accepted purely because it gave me the power I needed to not only fight the war but win it. It is still something I do not wish for. However, with every enemy I defeat, new ones appear that force me to seek more power in order to defeat them, lest I be the one to fall."

"Then surrender to me." Stannis stated. "I cannot deny the brilliance in which you have fought in this war. A man of your calibre by my side in the fight against the Others would be invaluable."

"The problem with that Stannis, is you have no support." Stannis frowned deeply. "The people do not love you following your actions in the Stormlands. The nobles do not respect you, they only fear you and will forever plot to kill you. Your desire to be King is being threatened by your own popularity, which is precisely why Renly was able to battle you for the throne. He had support where you did not."

"They shall follow me." Stannis warned. "Or they shall die."

Robb shook his head. "And that is why Westeros will fall to itself long before the Others come." Robb moved closer, Stannis partially drawing his sword as a warning, but he was undeterred as he grew closer. "Which is why you should listen to my offer. What is it you desire most in this world, the power of a King, or simply the title? I offer you this, a truce on our conflict till a time that the Others have been dealt with. An alliance between you and I until a time that the Others have been dealt with. I shall bear the title of King, taking with it all the risks and bare the target upon my back, yet it shall be you who holds the power of a King, as my Hand."

A figurehead.

A puppet.

A target.

Stannis would be free to rule Westeros while Robb would be the one under constant threat from enemies all around. Their armies united, and their kingdoms were brought together for a common cause.

"You would simply hand me the power of a King while bearing all the risk?" Stannis asked dubiously. "And when the Others are defeated, we what? Continue our war?"

"I have no interest in being King. If the arrangement suits you, I shall remain the King and you remain the true ruler from the shadows." Robb answered simply. "If not, I can surrender the title of King to you as I return North, back to Winterfell and rule there as a loyal vassal, as will my children and my children's children."

"Why not simply hand me the title of King now and be done with it all?"

"Because you have no support, as I said." Robb responded curtly. "No noble besides those in support of you will follow you the way that is necessary to defeat the Others without us falling to in-fighting. However, I can control them. My reputation speaks for itself and I have close allies in many powerful noble families that will be able to keep the others in line long enough for us to deal with the Others once and for all. You cannot."

That reminder made Stannis scowl, the whole deal not sitting right with him.

"You expect me to believe that you would simply give up all that power so easily?"

"I'm a Stark, am I not?"

So, another chapter is done and with it, we get a lot of things getting built up towards. Down south, the political battle between the Tyrells and Targaryens heats up with the Tyrells landing an early devastating blow with some more in the chamber. All the while, up in the north, the conflict between Robb and Stannis is still in the works, but whether Stannis will accept the offer or not is uncertain

Anyway, here are the answers to your reviews:

Dffrxas: I'm not sure whether I'll do a spin-off, I might leave it open to a possible one, but I'm not sure.

anindhitania238: No, it's not a marriage and I think from this chapter, you can figure out who Robb has in my mind to forge a third faction with.

any1996: Those things will be revealed in the future, but no they don't know Catelyn is dead but they have made the assumption about it same with Bran and Rickon based on the information they have at hand. Arya will also be going through her own changes as well, same with Jon.

sasuhinaop: I won't say much, but just know that one is still out there and the other is missing. Ramsay has nothing to do with either of them.

Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed and if have any questions or suggestions, please let me know.