18

Notes:

So this was supposed to be a multi-perspective chapter but Robert's part ended up being the length of a short chapter so I thought I'd post this as a chapter allowing me to expand a bit more on the others without fear of a really long chapter, plus I can post this a bit earlier than otherwise.

Some quotes and direct wording have been directly taken from A Game of Thrones or the TV series and they belong to George R.R. Martin and/or HBO, as well as the characters and all the other canon stuff but that goes without saying, this is fanfiction.

Warning: Tiny bits of creepy Robert again, not much though.

Edits: Nessa (Minisa's alias) is now just Nissa, it just felt unnecessary to have an alias that sounded so close but different. This should make it easier to identify and remember when coming back for updates.

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

When was the last time he woke up feeling the effects of his wine? Robert mused through the ache of his head. The damn light was hellishly bright, but Winterfell was blessedly a poorly lit castle; it was not the great fortress that Storm's End was but still donned very few windows. He counted his luck that his wife was not with him in the morning room of the Guest House as he ate and nursed his head. 

Robert smiled to himself, leave it to Ned to get him to drink himself under the table like he was still a boy. He couldn't even remember much of the night, Tommen's fawn, and Ned's tale of his bastard were the last things he could recall, both did lessen his mood. It must have been a good night though, Robert didn't even wake with a wench in his bed.

As if he cursed himself, a ray of gold appeared in his still adjusting vision with it came the annoying wails and whines of a so-called lioness. "You're giving our daughter to the Starks? Possibly the second son? She deserves better than this desolate ugly land. Fortunately your actions last night might have made the Starks think twice. Tell them Myrcella is not going to foster here after all." 

Gods, Robert hated that voice, the screeching of it, if he was being honest. "What are you screeching about now?" There was something sobering about Cersei, if you discount the fact she made him wish for another glass of wine to shut her up.

"Myrcella says you told her she was to foster in this icy hell and one day marry one of Stark's sons." Cersei crossed her arms below her bust, even though he hated her he found the way it pushed out her breasts still hardened his cock, that was all she was good for.

Falling heavily back in his chair, Robert grumbled. "Ned refused his daughters for Joff, what would you have me do?"

"Let Stark regret denying the honor for the rest of his life. When Myrcella is of age, marry her to a lord with good beautiful lands close to me rather than abandon her here with only snow and stone. How often have you seen Stark in the last fourteen years? We would never see our daughter again."

Twice, since Ned went North with Lyanna's bones, the man never visited once. The Greyjoy Rebellion had brought them together for the first time in years, mended their brotherhood. They were brothers in everything but blood yet Ned was stuck in the snow. His daughter would be too. "We haven't talked of specifics yet."

Snarling at him, Cersei smashed a goblet off of the table. "If Eddard still becomes Hand and you send my daughter here, she'd be raised by Catelyn Tully rather than your Stark."

"Then she returns to King's Landing with us and goes to Winterfell later but she will marry one of the Stark boys. That is final." Robert slammed a fist down, shaking the table.

"That is if your friend still wants to bind your houses after what you did." Her lips curled into a cruel smirk like a lion's muzzle might when growling. She said something similar earlier.

What had Robert done that might have repulsed Ned so? He could imagine little. "What did I do?"

Cackling like a mad woman, her green eyes sparkled darkly. "In your drunken stupor or perhaps before it, you forced yourself upon Eddard's cousin, or whatever the relation was. Stark put an end to it before you could get yourself gelded. The girl was not so reciprocating, I can't blame her, she tried to push you away but you pulled her close anyway. The girl wears a splint this morning, turns out you broke her wrist. Perhap you treat me better than you would have your Lyanna. Maybe she ran away from you like the other girl tried." Cersei disappeared as soon as she said her due.

He threw the goblet at her, it would have hit her had the damn woman not fled behind a corner. She knew nothing of Lyanna, Cersei never met her, never so much as seen the woman who should have been wed to him instead of the bitch. Robert went to war for Lyanna, he fought battles, he slew the bastard that locked her in a tower when she was meant to be free, he defeated the dynasty of mad silver haired inbreds, he became king, he should have married his love but he was denied that. Rhaegar, damn him, had the last laugh. Everytime Robert felt he won, Rhaegar left one more thing to curse his killer. Robert smashed the singing pansy and the bastard said her name, Robert walked over the man's wife and children and Lyanna died, Robert took the throne, Rhaegar left him a woman his father rejected for Robert to wed, perhaps Aerys' wisest act. 

Life was cruel; the hero didn't always get the girl, being king was no reward, and it was so easy to become fat… The hero could become a villain without even knowing until it was too late and he had fallen.

What would a damn Lannister know though? Tywin showed up at the end of the story and had his choice of the treasure. His picks only cursed Robert more, they didn't even let him kill Aerys. Cersei could not be right, Lyanna would have never...

Then why did that fear never leave.

"I'm sorry Ned."

All day Ned had ignored Robert, not that it was much of a day for Robert, waking up at noon. As they sat at the high table for supper things were much the same. With a heavy sigh, Ned finally opened his damn mouth. "It is not I that you should be apologizing to."

"You aren't happy so clearly I insulted you as well." Robert knew Ned well enough to know he doesn't ask for much and prioritizes others before himself, the kind of man Robert wished he could have been more like. "I'll apologize to the girl but I hurt your family as a guest in your home, forgive me."

Ned gave an unhappy grunt. "It isn't my place to forgive you, should Nissa forgive you then perhaps you'll find my forgiveness. We may forgive but we won't forget Robert, the North remembers. You must know I am disappointed in you, greatly so."

Looking at his big belly of fat, Robert agreed with that. "That makes the two of us and the rest of the realm. No one expects the king to be fat. I once was as muscled as a bull." He laughed bitterly, humor, wine, whores, food, they all just distracted him from the past. "I thought things would be better with the dragons gone…"

"You aren't executing lords." Ned misunderstood his words.

Their conversation died with that. At least Cersei and Joff were not in the damn room. Slowly Robert picked at his food, the nerves nipping at his appetite. Putting his silverware down, he grunted and stood abruptly, the chair making an annoying scraping sound against the stone dias. Slowly the hall quieted. "Nissa Wildpack."

The girl froze and her siblings that surrounded her turned and gave him dark looks. Slowly she turned, her cheeks still stuffed lightly with a bite of food. For a second her eyes were fearful before she swallowed the food down her elegant neck and her face turned to frosted stone.

"Stand." Robert motioned a hand and she did as he commanded but gave no sign of submissiveness. "Raise your hand, the injured one." He eyed the splint knowing he was the reason for it. "Last night, I acted unkingly. As a knight and a king I swore to protect the innocent and women, I broke that vow, I abused my power, Eddard's hospitality and abused you. I cannot undo what I have done but I can try to amend my actions in search of forgiveness. Ask anything and if it is in my power I shall grant it."

Her luscious brown hair fell over her beautiful face as she dropped her chin in thought. She took so long pondering her boon that he was about to allow her to request it later, but as he was about to speak, her head rose in that strong manner of hers. "The New Gift. Over two hundred years ago, Alysanne Targaryen gifted Northern lands to the Night's Watch, she forced our hand. I ask you to return those lands to House Stark. The Watch lacks the men to properly farm it, it was once our land and it should be once again to do with as we please."

Gods, it was as if this woman was after his heart just to crush it. Undoing a Targaryen slight to the Starks, that would bring a smile to his face any day. He looked to Ned and the man's brother, the leaders or envoy for the groups affected, at their nods Robert finally loosed a bellowing chuckle. "Yes! Granted! The New Gift shall be returned to Stark control." Waving a hand as if through some sorcery making the boon legal.

Nissa gave an elegant curtsy, "Thank you Your Grace." She hesitated for a moment, biting her lip in such an innocent yet seductive manner, he'd need to adjust his breeches before he stood again. "Pardon me for my rudeness but, I hope this… mishap opens your eyes to the plights of some women whose attention you seek. You see I imagine many women might feel pressured to accept your advances out of fear of consequences, you have a great deal of power, I was fortunate to have connections to such a great powerful lord but others do not. There is also the fact that truthfully you are not exactly… physically attractive anymore."

The room fell silent after gasps, a few stifled laughs sounded from the far benches. Jaws hung loose at the gall of this woman, she had bigger balls than any knight in King's Landing. It was a refreshing change to be insulted to his face by someone other than his wife.

Surprising everyone he laughed and the onlookers only became more stunned. He put a hand on his belly like a woman with child, "What? You don't dream of a fat man atop you?"

Shaking her head side to side, "No. I have great expectations, fat men smelling of perfume, wine and sweat don't meet them." Adorably her nose curled upwards, he didn't even care her disgust was directed at him.

Sparring in the middle of the yard Ned's bastard danced with a blonde woman with a spear. Robert thought 'danced' was an accurate word to describe it, the boy was graceful and together they seemed more playful than aggressive, that didn't stop the two from attempting brutal dirty tricks on each other. He'd laughed out loud when the blonde distracted Ned's son by seductively sucking a finger and knocking the boy hard on the head with the end of her spear.

"Who is the girl Ned?" Raising an eyebrow to his right where Ned leaned against the railing of the covered overlook with a full view of the yard. 

Tearing his eyes from where a thickly padded Tommen and Bran whacked at each other, Ned turned to the king. "Huh?"

Robert grinned watching the woman pull herself up by Jon's collar rather than the extended hand. "The blonde getting cozy with your bastard."

Sighing and putting a hand to his face, Ned shook his head. "She is a wildling."

"You're shitting me, that woman is a wildling?" Robert thought her to be too beautiful to be one, her clothes didn't match that of a wildling's either but they can be changed.

"Aye, she is here negotiating with Benjen and I." A small grin graced Ned's frozen face when Tommen fell to his rear with Bran's sword to his neck.

If the wildlings beyond the Wall were all that beautiful, Robert thought it'd only be fair if they stole some women back or brought them into the kingdom. "Negotiating?"

After an exhausted exhale Ned explained, "Her people are being attacked by another group beyond the Wall, one Benjen and I would rather not win. She seeks an alliance of some sort or asylum for her people on this side of the Wall."

"And you believe her?" 

"Benjen confirmed the enemy's presence. A deserter the day we got your raven said the same. We strongly suspect they killed Waymar Royce, Yohn's third son." Ned's voice had a grave dark tone to it and the man directed his attention to Joffrey as the boy stood to the side with the Hound rather than pick up a sword. What must Ned think of the boy surrounded by Lannister squires and more a lion than stag?

Spotting the wildling woman shoulder Jon as they walked to Ned's other children, Robert's curiosity peaked. "What's the deal between her and your bastard? Why weren't they in the courtyard when I arrived?"

Shifting, Ned looked uncomfortable. "Since a fortnight ago they have been sharing quarters."

"Good lad." A grin broke out on Robert's face.

"The woman claims her culture doesn't kneel before anyone, that is causing issues with our negotiations for asylum. Not wishing to cause trouble so soon after your arrival, I felt it better to keep her away. Jon was supervising her to make sure she behaved," Ned said, answering Robert's second question.

He nearly busted a gut at Ned's ignorance, "I'm sure the lad was keeping a very very close eye on her. I'd rather be fucking than greeting some king as well."

Ned just frowned like the grump he was.

The master at arms of the keep called out Joff and Ned's heir to the center and everything went to hell. Ned's boy jumped at the chance but Joff, Joff caused a problem, like always.

"This is a game for children, Ser Rodrick," his son said snidely.

The Greyjoy hostage snorted and couldn't resist countering, "You are children."

Joffrey didn't back down, Robert will give him that. "Robb may be a child playing at swords with a little girl but swatting Starks with play swords will not train me to follow my father's footsteps." The boy's green eyes flicked to Robert as if he'd be proud. Gods, did this boy want Robert to die of disappointment.

"You've hardly hit Robb all day! I bet I could beat you, live steel or not!" Ned's little girl shouted back as she took a step towards the prince.

"It would hardly be princely for me to hit a girl." For once in the little shit's life, Robert agreed with him.

The girl didn't back down, "That would be because it is hardly princely for a prince to be incapable of hitting me. Or are you too afraid to lose to a girl?"

Robert looked to Ned's seeing if he'd put an end to this but the man just watched on curiously.

The dig at Joff's pride was enough to make the boy lose whatever wits he had, "Girls are terribly weak, I wouldn't want to break you like my father broke the other girl." The fucking cunt said it with smirk on his face, as if Robert had meant to hurt the girl.

He damn near ended the conversation himself when the big woman, Cassana, stepped forth. "If women are so weak, what does that say of someone who refuses to fight one, holding back is always an option for those with any skill." She was in full plate of a polished white, her helmet between her waist and arm.

"A wager then? To prove I'm right, my dog versus you, the winner gets that hammer of yours. It is wasted on a woman, I think my father would enjoy it, Valyrian steel is a rarity," Joff challenged. Robert was rather interested in the hammer but it was too small for his taste. 

"Hardly a good wager for me, I fail and I lose my hammer, I win and get nothing, I'd rather not waste my time for some dust," Cassana said, baiting Joff.

Joffrey easily fell for it, "A Valyrian steel dagger." Had the brat stolen his dagger?

The object bet caught Ned's attention and the man perked up.

Huffing Cassana demanded more, "This hammer has three or four times that much steel, add five thousand gold dragons."

Turning to Ned, Robert asked: "Do you want me to stop this?" Ned shook his head so Robert spoke, "I accept the wager." He didn't mention that he'd return the hammer when the woman lost, Robert still felt guilt over Nissa, the girl requested a boon for her house rather than herself. Besides he'd thrown tourneys with far greater purses, Ned's tourney would be greater.

"Ready to win, Dog?" Joffrey eyed his sworn sword cruelly.

The Hound snapped his visor down and stepped into the ring drawing his longsword. He was a large man, taller than Robert even and nearly as muscled as Robert had been when he had crushed in Rhaegar's breastplate. Quickly the ring cleared as people stepped out of the man's way, few would get between a Clegane and their victim. Robert hoped the Hound didn't leave the woman ugly.

Cassana put her helm on her head, covering her black hair. She had an ornamental piece sprouting from the fore of her helmet, an antlered wolf. Her foot made three brushing passes over the dirt like a bull. Three clings rang out as she hit her hammerhead against her breastplate. She was large but the Hound was much bigger and the man had the advantage.

When Ser Rodrick's count reached zero the fighters moved forward. The snarling helm of the Hound seemed fitting as he quickly made to attack the woman, she met him halfway. There was no fear on the field, many so called knights would shit themselves rather than fight the Hound, this woman like the other girl had bigger balls than most men.

The woman made the spar a dance of cat and mouse, or rather a hound and a cat. Her footwork was amazing, Light and quick but strong and sturdy. She moved like a torrent of water, flowing and adaptable but with the strength of a storm. Like a wolf she stalked in wait until an opening where she'd strike as quick as lightning and as hard as thunder and Valyrian steel dents soot colored steel. With each attack she'd retreat the enraged retaliation and await the next chance to pounce. 

Sandor was ever the Clegane, the larger man with the strength behind him. He was extremely quick for a man his size but his opponent was just as quick and read his movements expertly. Each massive lethal swing met air or caused a deafening ring when blocked or parried. The Hound wasn't just a dog falling for the same tricks and taking hits until he dropped; when she invaded his space again and slammed the pommel of her hammer against his underjaw in an upcut, Sandor was already catching her arm and swinging a heavy cut aimed at her shoulder.

Bringing her arm up Cassana took the hit on her bracer, the armor scarred by the swing but still intact. Off balance from the force of one of the strongest men in the realm, she took a glancing blow to her upper arm and a rattling punch to her helm before she recovered. The cat's tail had been caught for just a moment in the hound's paw. 

They were both taking the fight seriously now, Sandor hounded her and she turned from a cat to a cornered wolf to a bull in moments. Clegane was suddenly on the backfoot, blocking a storm of raining strikes that would be the end of a lesser man. With the woman having no shield and the Hound having the reach and weapon length, she should be having trouble getting close, she wasn't, but that was her undoing.

Dropping his blade, the Hound caught her swing with a grip on her wrist and with a hand on her helmet brought her face to rising knee in a ringing crunch. Not relenting, he brought a fist to her helm. His enemy wasn't going without a fight however and toppled the Clegane with a sweeping leg, but Sandor tugged the woman down with him. He should have the advantage in a grapple, his strength was the only weapon he needed and he used it.

Robert knew it was over as the Hound trapped Cassana beneath him, one arm choking, the other raining blows on the white helmet. He was turning to Ned to console his friend over his champion's defeat when he heard a pained grunt from the sworn sword. Seeing the hammer bounce off the now dented armored hip of her opponent, a headbutt and a punch to the neck soon followed. With great strength the woman managed to flip the Hound and sit astride his chest. Raising that hammer of hers she brought it down on the hound shaped helm.

A quiet silence followed. Everyone was staring at the scene in shock. Joffrey inched backwards away from the sight, fear in his eyes. Before them wasn't a woman but a demon. 

"Dead." Cassana's voice was low and dangerous. The head of the hammer floated an inch away from turning the Hound's brain to soup. Standing above the defeat Hound, she looked directly at Robert's heir. "I believe you owe me a dagger. Give it to Lord Stark." She moved in the direction of the forge which Joffrey and his friends were in the path of.

Parting for her, Joff just nodded along in fear. The little coward avoided being within reach of her hammer.

Robert never would have said a woman could defeat the Hound before today, and judging by the slowly rising Clegane, neither had he. Another man without the size, strength and skill of the Hound wouldn't have lasted nearly as long even if they were good. Gods, that was an amazing fight. If he was honest he was strangely proud to be wrong. "Ned, I concede on women fighting. With that hammer she looked like a Baratheon. Do you think Mya could be like that?"

Raising a brow, Ned turned to Robert after watching his younger girl chase after Cassana. "Robert, you haven't seen the girl in fifteen years and you want to throw her in armor and put a warhammer in her hand. Let her be."

Sighing disappointedly, Robert eyed where Joff had disappeared before gazing at Ned's sons. "What did I do to get such a shite son? You have two strong sons and another couple when they grow. Even your bastard will make a fine man."

Ned watched his children interact happily with each other, they were so different from Joffrey and his siblings. "The gods blessed me with wonderful children." The lucky bastard.

It was the Lannisters blood, Robert swore. Mya and Edric had loved him instantly, giggling and reaching for his beard with their little chubby hands. Joffrey didn't so much as smile at him as a babe. Like a thousand times before he tried to picture the children he might have had with Lyanna, he imagined thousands of babes and every one was great in its own way. "Lyanna would have given me strong sons, kings. Can you imagine them, Ned, your nephews?"

Swallowing, Ned's eyes turned saddened. "I can, so easily." He continued to stare at his eldest sons as they began another spar against each other.

It was a warm day, or at least warm for the North according to Ned. The Wolveswood had a lively air to it as the hunting party moved through the trees. Robb Stark's wolf was at the fore sniffing out the boar one of men spotted prints of. The beasts were odd, the Stark's kept many pets. The Valyrian haired woman with her owl, the little girls with the squirrels, the direwolves, then there were the wildlings with the birds, the ermine and the mad one with the shadowcat cub.

Robert wished Ned's bastard had joined them on the hunt but the young man was training Ned's third son in the yard and making sure the boy wasn't climbing the keep. He likes to believe the boy was probably just bedding that wildling woman of his instead. 

Another question came to mind that he should have asked much earlier, "What are the roses doing here? They're a bit far from their gardens."

"The Reach has a surplus of food stores, the North is not known for the same, one of my cousins sought them out for a trade agreement. The Tyrells wanted more, a betrothal, only one of which we came to agreement on." Ned explained with his lance in hand. The man seemed stressed the whole trip, how the man could be upset when hunting Robert could understand.

Snorting, Robert laughed, "Good, I would have been mad, had you turned me away for Tyrells. They should have kept the Gardener's green hand as a sigil with how bloody reaching they are. Mace Tyrell besieged my home, nearly starving my brothers and he has the gall to all but asks for Joff to wed his daughter. I don't trust them, the dragon loyalist shits."

Ned turned his head to look to the sky through the branches of sentinel and ironwood. "It's been fourteen years Robert, you must give them something."

"So long as the dragons live, I can't trust them." Dorne, the Reach, and all the damn loyalist houses could still do a lot of damage, more if Balon Greyjoy joined them. The trip north had convinced Robert of one thing at the very least: that Ned's land was large and gathering bannermen would be a lengthy process.

"They are beggars, Robert. They likely have little of a formal education. They are hardly a threat." Ned had always been too soft on the dragonspawn.

"For now…" When they came for Robert's throne, Robert would slay Viserys as he had Rhaegar, crushing the boy's chest with his hammer. But Robert didn't want to speak of Targaryens, "Where is the woman? Cassana."

Peering through the trees surrounding them, Ned searched for the hammer-wielding woman. Looking behind him from atop his horse, he must have spotted her as Ned motioned someone up.

Trotting up alongside Ned's right, Cassana raised a brow, "You summoned, Lord Stark?"

Pulling at his belt, Robert removed the dagger and sheath. "I did. I believe you won this." He handed the blade to Ned to pass along, which he did very quickly.

"Dragonbone." The woman pulled out the dagger feeling its weight. "Not the best quality on the steel but above average."

"Not the best quality steel? It is Valyrian steel!" Robert couldn't believe this woman.

Huffing, Cassana scowled, "Better quality would be a tad lighter, and the thicker rippling pattern suggests the smith could have done a few more passes on the steel before shaping it. Boring patterning too."

Even Ned stared at her incredulously but Robert had to ask: "You're jesting right?"

"Fine, look at the difference between my hammer and the thing. Though there is a very heavy metal inside the head to give it a punch." She passed the dagger and hammer through Ned. 

The first thing he noticed was that the hammer's face was shaped like the footprint of a stag. Gold ripples waved zigzags in the black steel like lightning. On the grip, golden animals were stitched in black leather. Bastard colors of House Baratheon. "Stags, wolves and bulls?"

"The colors and stags and bulls were all I've had of my father, my mother didn't leave much either. The direwolves come from my pack." She gave a soft shy smile.

Feeling the weight Robert took a few slow swings of the hammer, it was perfectly weighted. Looking at her this close, Robert could see her blue eyes, combined with the black hair she looked like a Baratheon, like Mya might have looked. "Are you a Baratheon?"

She gave a lovely giggle, "Sadly not according to those colors." Gold on black rather than black on gold, a shame.

"I could legitimize you." Robert didn't know what compelled him to say that, perhaps it was thoughts of his own bastard daughter. The offer made a sweet smile appear on her face, it seemed familiar. Was she one of his? "How old are you?"

"Too old to be yours, I'm two and twenty." The face she made at her words made her long face even longer. "I thank you for offering but I have a name that I would never give away for anything, my family is my pack."

Frowning, Robert nodded, he'd have liked an enjoyable Baratheon in King's Landing. "Then keep the name and colors, but from this day forth, by royal decree, I name you, Cassana Wildpack and all your siblings and cousins to be trueborn daughters and sons of House Wildpack." He owed Ned a great deal, his cousins too.

The woman turned shy, "I-I… Thank you…" She took back her hammer and new dagger. Quickly enough she gained her confidence back, "You know, this doesn't mean you are safe from my hammer if you hurt Nissa again." The warhammer was held threateningly at Robert.

Trant and Blount, the dumb fucks, moved closer towards Robert, Cassana and Ned. Robert was having none of their shit today, "Back up yah cunts. A threat won't kill me." Turning to the woman he spoke again, "I could use a woman like you in King's Landing, I mean as a warrior. Are you accompanying Ned?"

"No, but I will be departing in a few days." 

"Damn shame, I'd like to see the faces of those at court when a woman beats down their favorite knights. Where are you heading?" Robert was more disappointed than he should be, hopefully she'd be there for Ned's Tourney.

"I have a few stops, one in the Riverlands, one in the Vale, two in the Crownlands. I need to meet some people, save them some trouble." The sweet smile returned.

He smiled back. The Vale. "If I gave you something, could you give it to someone in the Vale if you meet them? A girl named Mya, looks a bit like you."

She looked confused but nodded. "Only fair."

"You'll need an escort through the High Road, the mountain clans are a bitch. We'll send a raven for some of the Whent men to assist you. Just visit Harrenhall first."

Notes:

Would you guys be interested in a oneshot offshoot of the welcoming feast where Lyanna, Rhaegar, Rickard, Brandon, Lyarra, and Rhaella are revived for a somewhat cracky shitshow? I could even go full crack and have Elia and the others arrive early too for a full crackfest. It would probably take the place of an update for this but it might be fun.

I hope it doesn't feel like too much of a flop on Robert's character. Robert seems like he'd do a lot to remain on Ned's good side. Without any perspective from him in canon it is a bit harder to get a sense of him, though I haven't even finished the first book so most character's I haven't gotten in their heads yet.

So on Cassana beating the Hound, it should be noted that she was trained by Brienne, Aegon and Jon from a young age. She is one of the best fighters in the future timeline. The OCs beating canon characters will be a rare event and from what I have planned so far only happens once more and it will only be for logical reasons. I won't be taking away character defining accomplishments from main canon characters.

Next chapter will be the actual multi-perspective chapter this one was meant to be. It will have perspectives from Mance, Jaime, Tyrion, and Cersei, and have their reactions to Robert's action in the last chapter.

Upcoming Chapter POV Order:

Multi III (Mance, Jaime, Tyrion, Cersei)

Elia II

Sansa I

Rhaenys I