The Battle Of Ice II

adorned in the pink and red colours of House Bolton, arriving to assist what was left of the Freys forces, but none could see Prince Jacob with the snow winds getting heavier and the storm being to the prince advantage to escape from them. The gold armour cannot be seen in the snow, as the colour did not stand out in the face of the flaming swords of the Queen's Men, with the light dimming, due to the storm. Jacob's mind was scarred from the sight of the dead on the field; he expected to be many dead in this battle, but it was too much for his mind to process and he motioned his horse to turn west, as he wondered where his father was and why he was not in the mist of the fighting, with the northerners and his half of the royal host pushing back against the mass of Bolton men, whom just arrived on the field, but it was not the entire Bolton host, as half of them stayed behind at Winterfell.

The prince struck the warhammer against anyone, who got in his way, as he commanded his horse to ride west of the white plains. He knew the storm would distract the men fighting, and he handed the host to his cousin Luthor and he trusted him to take his place, whilst he searched for his father. Jacob may be a man grown, but he was never going to leave his father at the back of his mind, and he would never think not helping him if he was in trouble or was overwhelmed by the enemy forces. The horse was riding away through the treks of snow, which was minor in comparison to him having to have eyes at the back of his head, at seeing the visible threats coming after him, whether it was traitor northmen or was it the Bolton men, who came to help the almost defeated Freys.

Another horse appeared in the distance, with the prince seeing a woman riding the horse. It was one of the horses left over from his father's cavalry, but the horse's master must be dead, if a woman was in the saddle. As Jacob looked closer, he realised the woman on the horse was Asha Greyjoy. She was following him or was she trying to escape. There was no way Asha would be foolish to try and escape in the middle of a battle with most men's minds occupied in killing the northmen and Freys that stood in the way of Winterfell's freedom. He would take the ironborn down, even if it meant to stop her from escaping, as she has no allies and no friends in the greenlands and the iron islands, everyone she loved and commanded left her for richer pickings or were resting in the dungeons of Deepwood Motte. He kept control of his horse, even though he was not going to let Asha out of his sight.

"What the hell is she doing? Stealing a horse from a dead man. Where is she going? Is she meaning to follow me or is she daring to escape?" The prince thought deeply, but he could not be lost in his own thoughts in the middle of a war and be in total control of his horse at the same time.

Misty neighed loudly, with Jacob not sure what was happening. His eye was on Asha, not knowing ironborn women could ride better than the men, as the men were used to their ships and galleys, his face flushed red, due to the cold of the storm and his nose frozen to the touch. The man was secure with the thought of another female hostage not escaping his father's grasp at all, never would Gwyn Whitehill be foolish enough to leave without her own life being on the line. That girl was used to lure out her father and brothers out in the open, as isolation is the key to getting rid of Roose Bolton's most loyal supporters in the north and the ones, who held Ironrath and the Wolfswood in his name, before Jacob and his father's forces came and scrubbed them out of Highpoint, and took the lands and gave it to the Forresters, their arch enemies in the north, which made the remaining Whitehills stew, while they were trapped in Winterfell.

"Where are you going, pirate?" The prince asked, loud enough for her to hear and to be afraid of the consequences of escaping the war.

"I'm following you, my sweet prince." Asha replied.

"Spare me of your lies and tell me truthfully."

"I'm looking for the bastard of Bolton, greenlander. The one, who tore my brother apart."

"I was looking for my father, but plans have changed, and I could aid you in your search for him."

"Why would you do such a thing?"

"We have an enemy in common."

"Will you let your pride down and let me have my vengeance?"

"The bastard is of little concern to me, but my father wants him dead and I will follow his order."

The Greyjoy began to chuckle between her lips, with an axe strapped to her waist, no doubt collected from the dead soldiers. "You greenlanders and your orders, you humour me, my sweet. The bastard will flee from the sight of a greenlander and an ironborn together."

"I hope not, I mean to see him dead."

Prince Jacob knew this deal could mean his death, but with the chaos around him, he had no choice to enter such an alliance. It was only for war, and they will go back to being enemies later, but they were on the same side and fighting the same enemies. It would be foolish for Jacob and Asha not to ally in plotting the death of the Bolton bastard, as the ironborn woman was searching for him and looking to skin him alive, as he did to her brother in the Dreadfort for years and created a sickly dead being from the torture bestowed on him. The prince wanted to see the bastard killed by Asha's hand, but he knew Theon Greyjoy deserved his punishment for his actions in the north and he suffered for his ill deeds. The turncloak was marked for death, but he was still Asha's brother, and she will do everything in her power to avenge him from the man, who tortured him and broke him until he was no longer human.

The two were riding west, but at a slow pace to get wind of anyone, who tries to ride them down. Jacob's stomach grumbled, at the thought his father King Stannis finding out about this alliance, but he didn't care his body disapproved of what he was going to do. He needed an ally at war, and Asha was the one. The ironborn woman still expressed her unadulterated affection towards him, even though he rejected her, but she will never stop trying to woo him, even during a war and where both of their lives could mean the grave in this frozen wasteland. He sensed Misty was nervous, but his horse was bred in the west and was always skittish when in the mist of the cold weather; the horse settled and was dealing the harsher conditions better than most horses, that perished on the way south from Deepwood Motte.

Jacob sensed a chill through the tresses of his long hair, as he lost his helm in the mist of the battle. He was risking his position to assist Asha, in the search for Roose Bolton's mad dog bastard, as he was here, looking for his false bride and for his Reek. The bastard wanted to get them back at any cost, no matter who he killed and which northern lord or lady he pissed off to have his lord father throw him out from the warm fires of Winterfell and into the cold field. Prince Jacob was exhausted with the fighting, as his body was agreeing with him as well. His fingers holding onto the warhammer, were almost frozen to the hilt of it and were numb to the touch, but he was able to move his fingers well enough, not for the warhammer to fall from his grasp and him to lose what his uncle was going to give to him on his way to manhood.

"I'm glad you are here." Prince Jacob said unexpectedly, not knowing how it would make the ironborn next to him feel.

"Why be so nice to me, sweet prince?" Lady Asha replied.

"I don't want to do this without you."

"We are hunting the same man."

"After this war, we will go our own ways. You will have to live with your brother being dead at my father's hand."

"I will never forget you, foolish greenlander stag."

"Did you steal one of those flaming swords?"

"No, they burned out."

"I gave the command of my forces to my cousin, as he proved himself when killing your lot."

"Your father will go spare, the thought of his heir hunting down a bastard with me instead of being a hero."

"I will be a war hero anyways."

"That's the spirits, greenlander. When the battle is over, I will share one cup of ale or wine with you."

"Do not dream too high, Greyjoy or else you will fall hard."

The prince sniggered, when Asha said what she said. He liked the thought of sharing a drink with her, even though his father will disagree. Jacob had no friends, but his cousin Luthor and Sorrell was gone from his side, so he had no one to talk with, who was not a mindless soldier or a family member. The man was the type not to tolerate nonsense, especially if it was from family because blood relations gives no man licence to be a failure or betrayal to you. It was what Jacob did when he pushed memories of Uncle Renly from his mind because of the man being a usurper. He never wanted to think of his traitor uncle, even years after his death because of what Uncle Renly had done to try and take his father's throne from him, after all Renly was responsible for stealing Storm's End from his father. The main stronghold of the Stormlands was Jacob's birthright, to be passed down to his own heirs, had it not been for that simpering green knight uncle that stole it from him.

Prince Jacob changed how he saw Asha, as she slowly went from an enemy into something. He did not know what it was, and he did not like where it was going. An uneasy ally yes, it was what she was to be called for now. There was no way, he would take her as a lover, he had enough common sense to see it was a bad idea. Asha wanted a crown, and he was the way to let her take a southorn one, because her own was stolen from her and she looked to him as bait and he saw through her. He was unlovable, as the son of Stannis Baratheon and he knew no one would truly like him or love him on their freewill, but only would only like him for the promise of a crown and power in the game.

If this night on the northern snows was Jacob's time to die, then the Stranger was mistaken. He and Asha motioned their horses to trot slowly, whilst they were as far as they were from the main battlefield and the prince handed over his half of the royal host to Luthor, whilst he had it to assist the ironborn in searching for Bolton's bastard, as he was around and had no idea that his false bride was with Ser Justin and Lady Alysanne on their way to the Wall to deliver her to the Lord Commander, and his Reek was going to be executed by the prince's father, so the bastard lost by two points in this game. The harsh winds distracted the prince from being in control of his horse, but Misty knew to obey her master, even in such conditions to be trotting around. He turned to see Asha, with a blank stare on her face, she was craving for revenge and was going to get it tonight.

He was covered in his furs, but his armour was weighing him down. Jacob knew his helm was long lost, and it could be found by someone on the battlefield and can claim him being dead. The lost helm makes a good distraction, so the enemy does not know where he is and Asha being with him. As a rational man, Jacob was wrong for trusting Asha, but he needed an ally to stay alive in this war and someone, who could trust him in turn and not be too close to him, he had enough betrayals in his life and he did not want to prepare for another. The Greyjoy has nothing, but her name, as she was deserted by her people and her family, only left with a beaten, broken and scarred brother, who will be sentenced to death. He still did not know about Asha, but he knew enough to make a choice whether to assist her or abandon his responsibility to her as a future goaler.

"What is on your mind, greenlander?" Lady Asha said, commenting on the prince's silent look on her.

"Nothing, just focus on looking for him." Prince Jacob replied.

"I'm glad you came with me."

"To keep you from escaping, if you think me a fool in letting you out of sight."

"You want to marry me." The ironborn said in a haughty tone, she always liked to say such things to catch the prince off guard.

"I will never marry you; you are ironborn scum and you will live with being alone."

"There is no need to be so dull."

"Focus on the task, Greyjoy. The bastard is as slippery as his father and I want to see him dead."

"Impatient already, sweet prince. I will let you have the spoils, such as his coin or his weapons and I will take his clothes."

"You never seem to amaze me, Lady Asha."

The prince ignored Asha's provocations, as it was something, she did to catch his attention. He was not fussed about it, because she was not his type of woman physically, but she was similar in the qualities he liked about women. He will never be foolish to say such in front of her and give her a weapon to use against him. Jacob's eyes were looking from side to side, as the fields were nothing, but snow and no man was there, dead or alive; he was sure the search was fruitless, but for Asha it meant something to her. He had the warhammer, strapped to his back as his horse needed his full attention with his hands and he still had his sword, in case a man tried to ride him or the ironborn down.

The winds stirred, with snowflakes lifting from the field as it swirled around them. As a southorn man and an ironborn woman, it was rare for Jacob and Asha to see snow in their lifetime and go through a storm, which was the worst the north has ever seen, since the beginning of the Long Night, the original version of it. He believed with his mind, the long night and endless winter was coming again, after the long decade of summer and peace in the south, before the war started and the Lannisters stole the throne, belonging to Jacob and his father's by law and blood. House Baratheon was the house on the throne, after deposing the Targaryen dynasty in the rebellion and bringing fourteen years of stability and peace in the realm, before the lion whore and the Kingslayer ruined it.

"The end of the war is nigh, as the fight in the north will be the longest and a great castle is the hands of cutthroats and their allies. Roose Bolton was foolish to send northmen, who wanted to cut him to pieces out on the battlefield, as they could turn on his Frey allies on the field without their Bolton master ever knowing, hulled up in the hearth that belonged to Ned Stark and his children by rights. Father will deal with the rest of the forces sent out to us, but the remainder of the Karstark army is under our command with Lord Arnolf and his family being imprisoned for attempted murder and the betrayal against my father."

The man shook his head at the thought of his wound at the hand of Harald Karstark, the drunkard of Arnolf's sons. Jacob was alive because of Asha, and he thanked her for it in his own way. He was a man of few words, but he was grateful for what the ironborn woman did for him. She was the only woman, Jacob had developed a solid relationship with, since he left his mother Queen Selyse and his sister Princess Shireen at the Wall with the rest of the Queen's Men. A tear fell from the eye of the prince, when he thought of his mother and how she missed him, but he was secure in knowing his mother will cope without him and will always be his main supporter as one of the last trueborn heirs to House Baratheon. As much as he didn't like it, Jacob was the key to his house. He was the man ready to stabilise what was left of House Baratheon and how to build it up again for the next generation.

There was rustling in the snows and Jacob knew it. Someone was here or they were coming for Jacob and Asha, a great opportunity for a wondering soldier to kill the heir to Stannis Baratheon and the last trueborn scion of Balon Greyjoy, it will make a name for such a person. He motioned his horse to be still, not wanting to frighten her as he did in the heat of the battle. The man was sure someone was already here, judging by the big footed footprints lining up in a trail on the ground, as the storm blew some of the tracks away, some still remained and the prince knew it was no one he was familiar with, who had bigger feet and wore boots to fit that size of an average lord's feet, even though the tracks indicated someone was still here.

"The bastard must be here, and he is looking for us too. The sister of Theon and the son of Stannis waiting for him. A lucky skin flayer to have such an opportunity to see his last hours in the hands of two, who rode away from the war just to find him. Skin flayers were outlawed by the Starks but will be destroyed by the Baratheons and will never again exist in the north, as long as Stannis Baratheon remained king."

Prince Jacob turned to Asha, whilst both got off their horses, as it was easier to look for Ramsay Snow on foot. As a veteran warrior, being on foot afforded Jacob the best chance in finding the enemy, even if it was a lowly bastard, who was given too much power, and benefited from the death of his trueborn brother and Lord Bolton's rightful heir. The two began motioning forward on the heels of their boots, with axe and sword in hand in case the bastard or his bastard boys dared to attack them from behind; a stormlander and an ironborn together will make formidable allies on the battlefield, but it was a shame both kinds were enemies because of the whims of a foolish ironman, who wanted to relish in the glory of taking a crown in the name of his ironborn rights.

The man was conscious, as the storm raged on and the snowfall could be disarming to his eye. He was not alone; he had Asha with him, an unlikely ally. It will be a great story to tell Uncle Axell and others when he reunites with the rest of his family of his life being saved because of a Greyjoy and he intend to pay his debt, by assisting her in the search for the bastard boy. The bastard's death will be long and painful as Asha swore it will be, to relish the thought of punishing her brother's torturer with her axe. He will be there to make sure Lady Asha is not killed, as a valuable hostage to his father and a bargaining chip to impress the northern lords, who spurred his father's rightful claim to all seven kingdoms, including the frozen northern wasteland.

The two looked around, as the ironborn woman faced the prince, no hint of emotion on her face. She clutched onto her axe, and was ready to kill the bastard, as the prince was happy to join her. Jacob spots a figure in the distance, coming towards the two with the man pulling out his Reach made sword and Asha with her axe. Whomever was coming was no friend of theirs and it was war, so it could be anyone from any of the northern houses sworn to Roose Bolton and his dictational rule over the north. He was warm beneath his armour and cloaks covering his fragile skin, as it reddens in the cold and in extreme heat as his nose was red and visible to the trained eye; the figure came closer to them, but Jacob and Asha had seen worse than the bastard of Bolton so both had no fear of whomever was coming for a prince and an ironborn hostage.

A clearing in the storm was enough for Jacob and Asha to see the face of the approach and Asha's lips turned into a snarl. An ugly man came into the prince's view, when dressed finely in the cloths of House Bolton red and pink. He was big boned and shouldered, as he will surely be fat later in life, if he has one. The man's skin was pink and blotchy, with a broad nose and wormy wide lips. His long hair was dark and covered with flakes of snow, as was his dark red armour with a pale cloak on his shoulders. His eyes were ice cold and were like black holes on the way to the seven hells, as he would enjoy going to such a place, being a Bolton of high value and status with his clothes telling Prince Jacob otherwise. From behind and around, a few men in black clothes appeared with barking large black hounds on leather leashes, as Jacob was not afraid of no dog, unless the man in front of him thought himself higher than a purebred dog from the Reach.

"I see the son of Stannis Baratheon left the battlefield to find me, I am honoured to be graced with your presence." The ugly man said, twiddling his small knife between his fingers.

"You were meant to come alone, not with your pets behind you." Prince Jacob replied.

"The men of House Whitehill found your helm and cheered your demise. I am not as foolish as Lord Ludd to claim a victory with no body."

"I am here so what do you want."

"You brought the sister of my Reek with you, better to kill two birds with one stone."

"You and your bastard boys will die tonight." Asha said, in a snarl between her lips.

"I finally meet the bastard face to face, the kinslayer of the north, here in the flesh. I am grateful to put a face to the name."

The ugly man bristled at the thought of being called bastard, even though having his father's name did not mean shit, as blood and birth status matter in this world. "You will mind your words, Andal scum. I was gifted with my father's name by royal decree."

"By Tommen the child usurper, another bastard."

"Your father will be dead, before you raised your sword or hammer against me."

"You mistake me for Theon Greyjoy, a weakling who cannot survive the north. I am as much a northman as the men, who fight against you and your father."

"A pity, for us to meet in this dreadful storm and the storm could kill us before we kill each other."

"Enough games, bastard, you will pay for what you have done to my brother."

"A veteran, who needs a woman to fight at his side."

"Ironborn scum, she may be, but she worth ten times more than you, kinslayer. Why are you out here? Did you father sent you to kill me or are you afraid of other parties in Winterfell?"

"You dare to question my spurs, the son of the man, who worships fire dares to stand against me."

"Faithless, godless as you are bastard. I know your name already and it is not Bolton as it is Snow." The prince declared, as the bastard man bristled again, not liking to be reminded of how a name means nothing when you live in a world where blood right matters.

"My Bastard Boys have been craving for a real fight, since the sack of Winterfell. Things were boring and having to host one northern lord or lady after the other. Better to be here, rather than threatened to be killed by those old Stark loyalists or that Dustin bitch."

"Your little flaying knife may scare children and girls, but not me. I have seen more battles than you and I am younger than you." The prince chuckled, putting away his sword and bringing out the warhammer.

"Winterfell will be mine one day, and I suggest you bow before me as my father is Warden of the North."

Prince Jacob and Lady Asha burst out laughing at Ramsay Snow's declaration, as it was as false as he was as a man, a lowly man, who dared to challenge the son of a king, the heir of storm and fury. The man's fingers were grasped onto the warhammer, as it thirsted for blood again and the Snow boy and his bastard boys made good fodder. The man in front of him may be a bastard, but he had Bolton blood through his veins, and he could not underestimate him as bastards can emulate their families more than their trueborn siblings did. His eyes were surveying the bastard boys around him, most were men at arms for Roose Bolton, but held some twisted loyalty to Lord Ramsay, as he gave them the blood they desired and the authority to kill whomever they wanted, unlike the cautious Lord Roose Bolton, who wanted no blood unless it was necessary.

The man brandished the hammer at his side, and looked at Asha, as she had her axe in hand. The bastard boys were present, as they surrounded the two with their angry hounds on their leashes. The barking gave the prince a minor headache, as he never liked dogs at all for their loud barking and constant neediness to be catered to. Prince Jacob knew he would confront a noteworthy enemy in this battle, but the bastard boy made do with the more eligible men hiding in Winterfell or fighting out in the battlefield, where Luthor Estermont led Jacob's half of the royal host and would be wearing his lost helm, as a way to trick the enemy into thinking he was there, fighting with the men and not surrounded by glorified dog trainers and a bastard boy twiddling a flaying knife in front of him.

From the turn of the eye, the bastard boys were sent upon them, as Asha's axe sliced the throat of one, that came close to her and Jacob swung the warhammer against at least three of them that tried to divide him from his ironborn partner. He saw three men remaining, and the bastard boy leader himself sniggering and not lifting a finger to help his own men. The Snow was furious with the sight of arrows sicking out of the skins of his beloved hounds out of nowhere, as the remaining bastard boys lining to attack them from the front, as the rear attack failed. The prince's face was stained with the red of his assailants, but his steel forged eyes were set upon the bastard, who unleashed his own pitiful sword. Asha wiped the stain of bastard red from her face as well, holding two axes in her hands, as she was not satisfied with the lack of blood and wanted more, and wanted the bastard boy to fight and not hide behind his men.

The three bastard boys charged towards them, as the warhammer was crushed against their pitiful lack of armour, as Asha stabbed the remains of them with a knife, she must have stolen from a dead Frey soldier on the field, but the men of Ramsay Snow did not survive against the might of one ironborn and stormlander alliance, with the bodies of them and their hounds littered across the snows. The bastard boy did not flinch, as he was used to the horrors of death, being a Bolton, even in name because of the usurper's decree. The edge of Asha's axe and the warhammer were coated in a thick sheen of red, from the fallen bastard boys, even their leader must be impressed of how long it took to kill seven men. Jacob was not convinced, as Ramsay Snow as rumoured to be more dangerous when bored or afraid, but a Bolton never showed fear, even in the face of death from the land of the living, but this boy was no man, only a worm who tortures broken boys and rapes girls, who do not matter to the world or have families that care for them.

"I know he is watching me but looking at Asha because she is a woman. Northerners keep their women the same way the southorns do. It is a shame the Dornish influence in court did not extend to the rest of the kingdoms and their gender norms, as women can fight for home and land, just as the men do. As Theon's sister, Asha is craving to bash Ramsay's head in, but she must be subtle, as her emotions can be used as a weapon, and I cannot allow my father's most valuable hostage to be killed because of my incompetence. He does not see me as a threat, but his lord father does and that's why he is cowering in Winterfell."

The prince stirred, not minding his cloak stained of blood, but its thick black material makes it hard to see the red upon him. His face was covered with it, as well as Asha. He had to trust her this time, as they were two and Ramsay Snow was one and seven men were dead. The worm pursed his lips, as if he was the one who won this battle, but he put his little flaying knife away and brought out his sword. A jitter of his eyes moving from side to side from the bastard showed he was not completely dead, but he had some ounce of fear, being alone and surrounded by two foes. He did not run as other men would do in his place, as Bolton's only issue remaining, he is likely to stand and fight and not go down a craven. Asha gave the prince a look, as he did the same to her, and they both looked at the bastard together, holding their weapons, ready for this fight to be theirs and their foe to be the one, who rots in the ground.

"I'm impressed, my bastard boys will be remembered." The bastard Ramsay said, in a cold tone. With no remorse for the men, who just died for him.

"Are you afraid, Snow?" Prince Jacob replied.

"No…I would rather die as I see fit, than die a craven like Reek. You know where my bride is, Andal scum."

"As far as possible away from you, you will not hurt others again."

"Who are you to command me? I am the heir to Winterfell, and you are the son of a throne-less king."

"Better a man than you." Asha gritted between her teeth.

"She must love you very much to have gotten you here."

"My feelings for her do not matter; I treat her the same as any enemy, the difference is, she has more value than you."

"Stop stalling, death will await you, bastard." The ironborn said harshly.

"I am truly graced to be in the presence of two of the worst, the north has to see. An ironborn bitch and an Andal prince with no legitimacy."

"Shut your chatter, I am here for a fight, not to play cyvasse with you, Snow."

"If it is a fight you want, then a fight you shall have."

The man was not amused by the bastard boy's chatter, knowing he was stalling his own death and he would have done the same in his place, surrounded by two people who can cut him in half. He and Asha formed a circle around the other man, as there will be no way out for him, even though the worm has his ways of slipping past justice, but not this time. The adrenaline and the blood rushing though the prince's body got him to smile, whilst holding his dead uncle's warhammer, as it made a dent in the emotionless face of Ramsay Snow. As the dance for death started, the prince moved himself to the right as Asha circled the Snow to her left clutching onto her axe with a smile upon her lips, with the circle, there was no way the boy was going to fight back, unless he wanted to quick death and an inglorious end to his insignificant life as Bolton's dog.

The red skull hilted blade made its appearance, as it wanted to strike against Jacob, but the steel of the warhammer countered the attack. Jacob's eyes were wide open, as to how much does Ramsay Snow value his life to be able to defend it and survive, but the prince did not care anyways, as his life was minimal compared to his father or the lords, who supported the Bolton regime in the north. The counterattack with Asha's axe made a big dent in the boy's dark red armour, as it looked to hold against such a strike, but the boy's own cloak protected him from the elements, as the storm settled, just for Jacob and Asha to see the bastard's face in the clear. There was a saying Ned Stark said to Jacob when they were in the Godswood together once, when talking about the subject of killing a man or death, as he said you must look in the face of the man, who will die by your hand, and you must afford the time to look him in the eye before you kill him. He never paid attention, as it was moralistic shit coming from a man, whose honour was as like lifeblood to him.

Another sword stack from Snow was pointless, as the prince's leg was in front to trip over the bastard, and he landed face first onto the snows. Jacob was not going to waste energy in fighting someone, who was not worth his time, as there are other lords, who will need to be killed after him. He held the warhammer in an arrogant manner, even though the bastard boy got himself up from the ground, his clothes covered in snow as his looked to be agitated by the fall and the humiliation of it being done in front of a woman. Asha did not bother much, knowing how arrogant and emotionally stunted the bastard was, as it made Theon Greyjoy look a coward in comparison, how can Roose Bolton allow this worm to carry his name and stain his house for so many years without any one of his men ending him permanently.

The prince's face twitched, as the anger upon his face was plain to see. He held the warhammer with dignity, in comparison to the fallen skull sword on the ground. Jacob and Asha looked at each other, and at the boy, as he was collecting himself and brushing the snowflakes from his cloak. The man knew a downed opponent was risky and he already made that mistake with the drunkard Harald Karstark, by turning his back away and allowing the man to almost take his life away because of one moment of arrogance and pride, but he will not make that mistake again. A strike with an axe dug into the collarbone of the bastard, as he yelped out, as outcry was as deadly as the blood trickling down his neck and into his dented armour. His eyes were widened at the sight of the Snow being hacked in the shoulder by Asha, as the axe dug into the collar and his knees were buckling under his weightless and almost dead body. Jacob never expected such an attack, but Asha was ironborn and was waiting for the opportunity to bury her weapon deep when he was not looking or distracted by the prince's display with the hammer.

Prince Jacob never envisioned the fight to be as unimpressive, especially when he had an unlikely ally with him. Asha Greyjoy did not falter or even leave his side, even though it was more to do with the idea of her having a southorn crown of her own to look forward to, since the prince's father has not named his new bride, since Alys Karstark ran away from home and wed a wildling at the Wall. The man held the middle of the hammer and stared at the Snow man right in the face, even though his wormy smile was displayed to hide the stench of necrotic flesh from his collarbone shattered by an ironborn axe. The Bastard of Bolton had run out of ways to trick, and his wild ride was coming to an end, but Asha left the axe buried into his shoulder and stood next to the prince. The two looked at each other, and at the boy with an axe stuck to his neck, as it done in the name of the woman's brother and in the name of ironborn revenge.

"I see, I underestimated you, Andal scum. Will you kill me or make me a thrall, like her?" The Snow asked, with blood trickling down his neck and through his mouth and drops went into the snow.

What the Snow wished, he had gotten with the warhammer delivering a thunderous blow to the boy's chest, with the dent of his armour becoming a large hole with blood and dead tissue flying out of the wound. He almost looked like another man Uncle Robert killed with the same hammer of war, but this time, it was wasted on a worm of a bastard and his dead bastard boys, which littered the snows and were only black spots in the northern storm. The boy fell backwards onto the ground, as his sword fell from his hand and the little flaying knife did too. Collapsed onto the ground with a dead axe in his neck, and a huge blow to his chest was what was left of him. Prince Jacob stared hard onto the hammer, as he saw the blood splatters all over the silver hilt and on the sigil of the crowned stag on it.

The stormlander turned to the ironborn, as they looked at the broken and beaten body of the worm, they had slain. His frost-bitten fingers found their way to the warm fingers of the woman beside him, as this day was a good day for them both. A northern warhorn was blown in the distance, as the prince and the ironborn could hear it, as it signalled the battle to be over. He was not sure, if the war was really over, all those moons of campaigning in the north and fighting small battles to come to this was over, but the prince's eye widened as the horn blew louder, he was elated at the thought of all these moons of war and death were worth it in the end and the great seat of Winterfell was free from the Boltons.