VIII.

Asha

The winds are a little warmer. Asha noted as her ship sailed in view of Pyke. The winds and the waters had been getting a little warmer the past few months now. If only by the smallest amounts. It was still fucking cold on the seas and any fool that fell in them was still likely to freeze as he met the Drowned God. But a little less bite to the winds and waves meant that winter was soon to be over and the Citadel would soon send their ravens to announce Spring. Asha wasn't sure the cold would ever leave her body though. It's been fifteen years of this fucking cold. Not even dragon fire will warm me up. Asha thought angrily as her crew began to dock. Pyke looked no different than when she'd last seen it. Poorly maintained, walls crumbling and unrepaired since before the Greyjoy rebellion and tattered banners of House Greyjoy. A pale shadow in comparison to their ships when they weren't depleted.

"Still a dour shit hole." Asha muttered under her breath as she disembarked onto the dock, off to meet the other Iron Born that had been called to make preparations for the fleet against the North in Spring.

This was the first time Asha had been on Pyke since having to go and give support for her Brutish Uncle Victarion Greyjoy; the new Lord Reaper and Master of Ships. Asha could still remember the smug look on his face as he sat on the sea stone chair with Euron Greyjoy's Valyrian armour adorning him, the Silence in his dock and the dragons in King's Landing if any Lords or captains didn't like him. Not there were many sadly. It made her glad that she didn't have to stay on Pyke through the winter; instead living at the Ten Towers with her Uncle Harlaw and then becoming the Lady Harlaw after his death. She had been glad his offer still stood after refusing it before the Kings moot. It gave Asha ships and a richer island in the kingdom away from the Lord Reaper. Though I've still had to follow his orders. The Lord Reaper had been given leave to Reave as many Northern ships as the Iron Born liked throughout the winter on both the Western and Eastern Coasts. All as a way to keep any food from coming into the North.

A damned fool's errand that had been as well. Asha thought smugly as she made her way into the castle and through the corridors. The prospect of reaving had pleased the Iron Born; they could take by the Iron Price and live by the Old Way. But Asha knew better than to reave the North. She could still feel ropes and chains that had bound her to her own ship in the freezing cold. She could still see those wolfish eyes at Deepwood Motte. That had been enough to hold back what captains would listen to her from the Ten Towers in joining the other Iron Born. Those captains had grumbled at first thinking that another Reader had become their Lady. But that gradually stopped over the years when more and more captains returned missing more than half their crews from a raid on the West Coast of the North; notorious for being without a proper defence. They spoke of giants walking into the sea and dragging ships onto the ground. Of Iron Born heads being put on spikes along the coast and wolves dragging gutted corpses to the highest hills and mountains as far

from the sea as possible. And the ones that had sailed all the way to the East coast rarely come back. Especially after Victarion attacking a convoy from Braavos. Asha hadn't heard of any successful attacks on the East Coast after that.

"I haven't been here since the King's Moot." Sigfry Stone Tree cheerily pointed out as he looked at the dour corridors.

"I could have stayed from these halls a lot longer." Asha replied, still annoyed to be in these halls.

"There was a time you wanted to sit on the throne here." Sigfry replied with a wry smile.

"And that was a time when we might have had a chance to do better for ourselves. No reaving and getting nothing in return. Victarion's stuck to my dead father's plans and doomed us for it." Asha shot back.

The Northmen will come one day floated in her head as she said the words. Sigfry didn't notice the bit of fear that was in her eyes, smiling cheerfully instead.

"I guess that's true. We're still a poor lot. Reaving for Pine cones and snow hasn't made these halls wealthy." Sigfry replied wryly.

That brought a smile to her lips as her bannerman chuckled at his own words. He hasn't even taken Pine Cones by the Iron price. Asha thought smugly as they entered the throne room. Her dullard of an Uncle was standing over a table, dressed in full armour, axe and dirk with his kraken helmet left on the sea stone chair as he looked at a map. There were other Lords and Captains surrounding the table as well. Victarion looked up at her and scowled.

"About fucking time woman." Victarion spat as Asha took a place around the table, her captains in tow.

Asha scowled at her Uncle. "I was told to bring all my ships and that takes time. I did better than others. I don't see Lord Blacktyde or Drumm here yet."

Victarion grunted at her before looking at everyone else. "The Dragon Queen has started to prepare her fleets from the Greenlanders for when Spring comes. We're to do the same and show them what true sailors look like when we invade the North's shores and rivers."

Asha looked around to see worry on few faces. Support from dragons makes them brave. "I take it we're hitting the western coast." Lord Botley said.

"Aye but deeper. We're going to hit everything on the West with the full fleet instead of just their coastal villages. I want Barrow town looted of everything and Deepwood Motte burnt to the ground. Make chaos for the Northerners before the Greenlanders get there. Split up whatever's left of them from winter trying to drive us off."

"Are we ferrying the Greenlanders in Reaper?" Lord Tawney asked.

Victarion nodded, "Aye, we're going to ferry some in and take Moat Cailin again from behind and open the North up for the South. We'll also be sending some up to Torrhen's Square. We're going to burn it to the ground and take every village surrounding it to the sword."

"We do not sow." Some of the captains said happily. Fucking idiots.

"The Northmen won't fall for the same trick twice at Moat Cailin. The wolves will have it well

guarded after what you did." Asha warned.

"And they have taken ships from us in the War of the Five Kings and every time we've went raiding since." One of her captains added.

Victarion laughed. "You think I haven't judged what the wolves can do! That bastard is a menace but a one weakened by winter. He'll have his forces further inland than out in the barren bogs where there's no food or on the seas where they have no skill."

You haven't seen them fight in their lands Greyjoy. They breathe the cold like we breathe the sea.

'And more importantly I have control over not just the Iron Fleet but the pathetic Greenlander one as well. Once their sails come North in Spring it will be a larger fleet than both of my brothers!"

Asha knew better as the Iron Born started shouting in agreement. He was right that the fleet would be larger with Greenlander ships as well. But the Iron Fleet hadn't recovered as much since the wolves and Northmen. And over the years they had lost ships even if they were given wood from the South to replace them. The Iron Fleet was something close to sixty ships. And the ships of the individual lords had gradually depleted from the numerous wars since the Greyjoy Rebellion. From one hundred ships per island it was closer to forty with the amount of men they could field. And more will get destroyed for fucking Pine Cones. Asha thought as she thought of the two hundred ships docked at Pyke.

"My ships will head for Flint's Fingers if you wish Lord Reaper." Asha offered. I can sail back once the rest of the fleet fucks off inland and dies."

Victarion looked at her darkly. "You were around your craven uncle too much before he died. Only ten of your ships will accompany you for that. The rest will join me and show you how true Iron Born fight."

Asha nodded as the droning on of Iron Born went on. She wasn't happy with this at all. It would not end well, even with dragons. More men would meet the drowned God than live to take meagre spoils from the North. If the wolves allow us to drown in the sea.

*

It hadn't taken long for things to go South at Pyke; starting with the burning of their fleet. Asha had been woken in the dead of night to witness from her chambers the docks of Pyke and every longboat and war galley aflame from burning ships that had sailed in too quickly to be stopped. The Iron Born had all turned silent when they realised that truth as their ships burnt; trapping them on Pyke. It was a horrifying sight for an Iron Born to see the very thing that gave them strength burn away into nothing. Even the silence had burnt to Victarion's rage; almost as powerful as the flames that dominated the night. Asha felt the same sense of dread from all those years ago attached to the prow of her ship.

Then the ravens started to flutter into Pyke. Ravens from Blacktyde, Old Wyk, Orkmont, Great Wyk, Saltcliffe and even Harlaw. All of them came with letters drenched in Iron Born blood. The wolves are coming. It told everyone on Pyke that there would be no help from their islands that they had sailed from for they had been taken by the sword. It told them that House Drumm and House Blacktyde would not join them for they had died by the wolves before getting the chance. It told them that the Iron Born would be alone on Pyke to fight the wolves. Victarion had sent ravens south of course as a call for aid to get the dragons. But even the ravens had turned against them, flying North instead of South.

Even the birds are afraid of the wolves. Asha thought angrily as she helped make preparations in Pyke which was clearly lacking in comparison to that of the wolves. It was clear to Asha that the wolves had been watching and planning this for some time to invade the Iron Islands. It wouldn't be possible to burn their ships and massacre their islands without knowing when and where everyone was. The wolves had planned and spied on them with every one of the Iron Born unaware of it. And now I'm having to take orders from Victarion on how to prepare for a fucking siege. Asha's advice on how to prepare had been repeatedly ignored despite being the only one that had survived a siege of the Northmen, even if it hadn't been much of a siege and more a quick assault. Only her captains from Harlaw listened to her, the rest listening to her uncle; The man that was neither besieged at Pyke or Moat Cailin. He fucked off both times before he had to be under one. Asha thought bitterly as she looked around Pyke's defences. Too many of them were out on the crumbling walls, not enough men in the castle could use a fucking bow and not enough food to last in a siege amongst a people that would squabble and kill each other as soon as the drink went.

"They've been spotted coming from the west!" One captain shouted behind her.

A few Iron Born shouted back at the captain. "How many?"

"Looks like fifteen thousand of them!"

Asha felt a sense of dread tingle down her spine again at the words. The wolves were here. "We're fucked, aren't we?" Sigfrey asked as they boarded up a window.

Asha nodded grimly. "We'll put up a good fight but we're fucked." "But you don't think it will be a long one." Sigfrey stated bluntly.

Asha nodded. "It will be quick. If we're lucky I'll live to see uncle get ripped out of that Valyrian armour by the wolves. I'll die happy seeing that."

Sigfrey laughed darkly, still holding the cheer in his voice. "Well, we wouldn't be Iron Born if we didn't want to see some of our own die brutally! You may wind up the first Lady Reaper for all of two minutes when they come."

Asha didn't get to respond to that as guttural howls filled the air. I haven't heard that since the Motte. Asha thought with a hint of fear as she moved to a vantage point to look at them. Asha could see thousands of Northerners below as the wolves marched ever closer, howls and skirling of pipes getting louder and louder as they approached. They'd already got through the first walls, Iron Born already dead on the ground before they could fire. Some of the banners raised above the army before her from when they had attacked her at the Motte. Umber, Mormont, Flint and Wull. There were also Banners of Glovers, Tallharts and Flints of the Fingers here in vengeance for what had been done in the War of the Five Kings. And above them all at the front was a single banner of a snarling Direwolf running a field. Here for vengeance for my brother taking Winterfell.

"We best get down to the hall. Your Uncle's put Tawney in charge of the archers." Sigfrey said as Asha tried to see where the King in the North and his wolf were below their banner. Where are those red eyes and wild eyes?

Asha nodded wordlessly as they made their way to the hall; Iron Born banging their axes and chanting with Victarion as he shouted.

"WE'RE GOING TO FUCK THESE GREENLANDERS AND THROW THEM INTO THE SEA!!"

"FUCK THE GREENLANDERS!" The Iron Born roared back.

"WE'RE GOING TO TAKE EVERYTHING FROM THEM BY THE IRON PRICE AND HAVE THEIR WOMEN AS SALT WIVES!"

Bullshit, I settle for killing some with my dirk before and not dying by wolf.

"WE DO NOT SOW!!" The thousands of Iron Born shouted as the gates opened for a charge.

Asha charged with them into the cold air as their axes raised in the air. It was a stupid attack rushing an army with no cavalry and a lack of archers behind them when they could have tried to make a proper defence. Asha looked up as she ran to see that the archers from Pyke weren't doing any damage, arrows either missing their mark or archers being shot down onto the ground. It would only be their steel on the ground it seemed as they charged forward. Before her Asha could see that the Iron Born had met the wolves, clashing their axes into Northern shields. The Iron Born's chants of taking by the Iron price were quickly replaced with screams as Northern axes and swords pushed forward; cutting down her people with no mercy. Asha could hear thousands of angry snarls as Iron Born forces were being cut down like they were nothing; the stark banner pushing further forward.

Victarion's foolhardy charge quickly turned into a defeat as she watched Botley and a few Ironmakers get savaged by a tall Northman with thick red hair and a giant bead, and a young Umber bigger than anyone else with a Great sword. One of the Iron Born at the front started to run, being followed by a Mormont woman that jammed her mace halfway through his side.

"GET BACK!!!" Asha ordered as she started to run backwards, throwing a dirk into a Northman's arm.

The Iron Born started to run with her back towards the gates of Pyke, wolves behind them as they chanted and howled.

"THE NORTH REMEMBERS!!!" "VENGEANCE FOR WINTERFELL!! "VENGEANCE FOR DEEPWOOD MOTTE!!!" "VENGEANCE FOR TORRHEN'S SQUARE!!!" "VENEGANCE FOR MOAT CAILIN!!!"

All were places of the North that the Iron Born had raided; their chants getting louder and louder as they ran behind them. Asha looked back to see more of her forces being dragged down into the ground by Northerners. It was turning into a massacre as Asha made it through the doors. Victarion was shouting orders for them to close them as fast as possible. The Direwolves didn't let them as two ran in, tearing the Iron Born at the doors. limb from limb. Asha looked in horror at the two. One had the same colouring as the King in the North's, thick white fur covered in Iron Born blood and haunting red eyes with an uncontained savageness. She could only tell that the wolf wasn't the King's due to its size, only that of a small pony. It wasn't fully grown to the size of a large horse like its packmate with black fur and savage yellow eyes. Some Iron Born tried to attack the two large wolves, ending with their heads falling to the ground and blood spurting on the wolves' snouts. The two wolves started to snarl loudly as Northmen flooded in to kill them all.

"Greenlander bastards!!!"

Victarion roared as he ran at the large Direwolf, axe aiming for the head of the giant wolf. The

wolf didn't even need to move as the axe met Valyrian steel and a snarl as vicious as the wolves before them. Asha recognised the sword an instant. The sword was the same bastard and a half with a that had cut through Qarl's arm like it was butter at the Motte; only wielded by a different wolf. This one was younger with reddish brown hair, broader build and blue grey eyes. But the long face was there and the savagery was in his eyes. It was a stark, shouting with a loud guttural Northern accent.

"SQUID!!!!!"

The stark slammed his shield into Victarion's Kraken helmet as he pushed the axe back onto her uncle with his sword. Victarion looked angry as the two fought. The large Direwolf darted into the chaos, savaging more corpses alongside its packmate whilst the Stark engaged Victarion. He was attacking her uncle as violently and as brutally as the wolves, dismembering and gutting any Iron Born that tried to defend the reaper as they engaged in combat. Asha turned her attention back to the fight that was before her as thousands of Northerners overwhelmed them, disembowelling her people with fury. Asha did her best, cutting down some Northmen before the woman in Mormont colours and bear furs arrived with a blood drenched mace in her hand. She looked similar to the one that had been at the Motte with brown hair, brown eyes, and big teats. This one's eyes were fiercer and had a much sterner expression as she raised her mace with her powerful arms to fight her.

"Here I Stand Squid and Here you fall!!!" The Mormont screamed above the sounds of everyone else.

Asha's axe just met the bear islander as the two started to fight. Both were quick as their weapons clashed with each other within the chaos, Iron Born numbers becoming less and less within the halls as more Northmen flooded in. The bear islander attacked her relentlessly as the two clashed with their axes. Asha could feel herself as she tried to break the woman's defence. The two were roughly the same size but the Mormont was clearly the stronger than her as the mace wore her down more and more as Asha got pushed into a corner. Asha deflected another furious blow from the Mace as three of her crew tried to stab her from behind. Her crew's attempt was answered with the White Wolf's snarls and a growling young man with Stark grey eyes.

"AUNT LYANNA!!!"

Mormont ducked an axe and pushed forward as the white wolf and Stark tore through her crew. The Mormont grinned without even looking at the sight behind her and smashed her mace through her axe and then slamming the mace into her side repeatedly until she decided to smash the mace into her legs. Asha fell to the ground with blood spurting out of her mouth as the Mormont took another swing at her side, breaking more ribs. Looking around with blackening eyes, Asha could see not an Iron Born standing as the thousands of Northmen watched Victarion and the wild Stark fight.

The Stark was blood drenched and covered in gore but didn't seem fazed at all as he snarled almost loud as the Direwolves. Victarion was fighting furiously against the Stark, trying to get through the wolf's shield and sword to no avail. The Stark was getting blows in every time he struck but the Valyrian plate armour that adorned Victarion's torso was preventing him from getting through. Asha watched the fight intensely as her wounds slowly killed her. The two weren't letting up... not until the Stark lowered his shield. Victarion started to angrily attack at the new opening as he pushed forward but the Stark simply ducked and dodged before the axe could make its way into the opening. The Stark from a lower position slashed his sword through Victarion's leg braces; sending her uncle to the floor as Blood spurted out of his lost leg. The Northmen started chanting.

"The Hungry Wolf Reborn!" "Squid Slayer!!!"

"The Wild Wolf!!!"

The Stark grinned savagely as he slashed the other leg off as her uncle screamed. More blood covered the Stark as he thrust the sword through the small gap between the Kraken helmet and plate armour. The wolves howled and the Northmen started to chant.

"The Rickon!!!"

"The Rickon!!!"

"The Rickon!!!"

The chants were all that Asha heard before the Mormont realised that she was still alive, slamming her mace into Asha's skull.

Tyrion

It was strangely refreshing to see King's Landing free of the snow with only shit and blood in the streets again. You could see whose murdered corpse was on the road or which streets had no sewerage running down it again. Spring was finally here after fifteen excruciating years. No doubt ordered by his father who had most likely been made Hand to the Father to spite him and Aerys' s children. But why do I still feel cold winds and ice down my spine? It wasn't a hard question to answer really. Tyrion had seen the five war galleys that had been sailed and ditched in King's Landing with inverted Greyjoy banners. Their contents had made a disgusting sight; three galleys filled to the brim with Iron Born heads and disembowelled torsos. Tyrion had vomited from the smell of it. The last two ships had been filled with the old crones of the Iron Born. The Last of the Iron Born. He had heard wails for sons and daughters that had been cut down fighting the wolves, their corpses either loaded into the galleys before him now or put on spikes across the Iron Islands. They had wailed of grandsons shipped off to the Wall and granddaughters to Bear Island to be turned into bears. And they had screamed every time they mentioned the wolves and how all they did was disembowel and behead them because "Squids are only good enough for dying by Northern Steel just like everyone else that wrongs the North."

They had all slit their throats after that on the docks for everyone to see after saying that. The Unsullied hadn't had enough time to stop them as the Last of the Iron Born fell dead in sight of every dock worker and passer-by. Tyrion hadn't stopped feeling the Ice run down his neck since. He could feel it now as he sat at the Small Council table to discuss the war with the North. He didn't doubt that this would be a tense meeting. He could feel the tension in the room already with only the councillors present. It would be a hard meeting. But when are they ever?

Tyrion's work hadn't been easy for the last fifteen years. Winter alone had caused problems for an unprepared realm that had focused on war and power plays over food stores. Only Dorne and the Southern most parts of the Reach had been untouched by the snow and had limited what food they could get from Westeros. That meant that to supplement the lack of food that could be grown they would have to get food from Essos. In one regard that had been easy. Meereen hadn't suffered as much as the other cities Daenerys had "liberated" and the city was still terrified enough of the Dragon Queen that they provided some foods. But that was still not enough to feed the realm's Lords and Knights which required other cities to trade with in the East. And all of them decided to band together behind the Iron Bank. That had been one of the worst missives he had received in his life. Trade would only come if they paid the Bank what was due. Six Million Dragons of fucking misery. Dealing with the Iron Bank made Tarly's disputes with the Dothraki whenever they entered the Reach look tame. The Targaryens' annoyance that the usurpers' debts came to them because the Bank was smart enough to deal with the crown not the family name and the Bank's power over food had forced tense negotiations; made worse by Victarion attacking a

convey of Braavosi merchants ships that had been sighted on the East coast heading North. In the end they had got a deal for food but it had involved heavy taxes across the realm to pay instalments to the bank; already increased to support Daenerys' armies and fill the royal coffers. Including my own Kingdom; not as much as that on the Riverlands and Vale but my gold mines are now empty paying a debt that we've only just paid half of.

The thought of his lost wealth had made Tyrion take another drink. He knew he would be needing more as soon as he saw his Queen and King enter the room. Daenerys' face seemed to match the flames of her dragons as she strode in with a furious expression. Her husband's face looked similarly angry if not worse but that might have just been due to the litany of scars across his face that made the King of the Seven Kingdoms look a lot less ethereal in beauty and less like his Father. Neither of them looked in a particularly negotiable mood as they sat down. At least they are in agreement instead of arguing over the realm and Aegon's bastard sons and daughters with the Princess of Dorne.

The Queen didn't give them the chance to mutter your Grace as she spoke demandingly. "I want answers for how my Iron Fleet has been destroyed without us knowing!"

Tyrion sighed and took another drink as Varys answered calmly. "It appears your Grace that the Northmen have managed to take the Iron Islands by surprise. No word came at all to suggest this."

Daenerys scowled at the Master of Whispers.

"And how does the Master of Whispers not know the goings on of my realm!?"

Her shout was a powerful one. And a very petulant one as Father would say though.

Varys sighed. "My little birds on the Iron Islands did not send any missives Your Grace. Nor were there any ravens from the Lords of an attack. And winter has been hard on my birds North of the Neck. Not a word has come from them in order for us to pre-empt this."

"We know nothing of the North except for their dead." Harry Strickland muttered.

Tyrion watched Daenerys' skin flare at that comment; turning as red as dragon flame. It's true though. All we know is who was killed by Dragons. Those ravens remind us of that much. It had started a year into winter when the Targaryens received ravens from the North. They had smugly expected it to be the Northern houses informing them they no longer backed the King in the North and had overthrown him. They had all been wrong. Every house in the North from Winterfell to Last Hearth and the Mountains to Skagos had sent ravens listing their dead, both low and high born from Daenerys' "war for the dawn." There were thousands of names that had come by raven, repeating every year of winter that passed and increasing both Daenerys and Aegon's fury. The North Remembers Hugo Wull. The North Remembers Torren and Duncan Liddle. The North Remembers Tormund Giantsbane. The North Remembers Maege Mormont. The North Remembers Crowfood Umber.

The North Remembers Arya Stark. That one name out of thousands always came written in blood from Winterfell with Targaryen heraldry stamped upside down with a wolf snarling above it.

"They will all be dead once me and my dragons are done!" Daenerys screamed.

The small council had turned silent for a moment. Tyrion took another drink. How did I wind up in

service to another Tyrant?

Aegon spoke slowly after his wife's outburst. "How goes the invasion plans?"

Tyrion looked at them grimly as he ignored the click of Aegon's jaw. "With the Iron Born Fleet, we'll only have the Crown and Redwyne Fleet to bring the Unsullied into Moat Cailin. We also won't have Iron Born to reave the West Coast either. The chances of us being able to open a gateway to the North for the entire army and to divide the Northmen are much slimmer."

"They would still have been slim with the Iron Born. Reavers make useless soldiers. It is better that they are gone to no longer cause us any suffering." Randyll Tarly said bluntly.

Daenerys didn't seem to like that answer. But then again, she didn't like the Warden of the South; a title given by Aegon and leaving the Tyrells only with the Lord Paramountcy.

"My dragons can burn where the Iron Born intended and all of the North if need be." Daenerys replied heatedly.

"And they will die if you do. The Northmen were able to put arrows both normal and giant through your beasts' scales and they will have prepared themselves to drop them from the sky from whatever keep in the North and we would lose any advantage over the skies." Randyll Tarly responded simply.

Daenerys looked even more infuriated with Tarly.

"He has a fair point. I would not have our dragons at risk. Nor our armies when I command them on the field." Aegon agreed.

You want to fight on the field to prove yourself a warrior as well as a King. You fought to take King's Landing but the scars on your face make you look weak. Tyrion thought to himself.

"You speak like we should let them invade us Tarly?" Daenerys said darkly.

"I do Your Grace. The Northmen will be too secure in their lands. It is better to have them come South where we know the territory and it is easier to control supply chains. If we fight wisely on the field, we will be able to trap them and either beat them with our forces or your dragons. I would rather have control of the environment than march the might of the Reach into a land bigger than six Kingdoms and much more dangerous." Randyll answered calmly.

"You would willingly risk our lands Tarly?" Garlan Tyrell asked angrily.

You'll be fighting under Tarly in this war. How it must annoy you so.

"I would. The might of the Reach, Dorne and the Golden Company will be better suited in our own lands in the South against the Northerners and their allies." Tarly responded emotionlessly.

"You still expect the Vale and Riverlands to side with the Northmen against dragons." Aegon stated with another click in the jaw.

Tyrion nodded. "He's right to Your Graces. As much as we've been unable to prove anything in regards to the Lady Stark. I imagine she or those allied to her will come to aid you. Whether they side with the Northmen is debatable. Lady Stark is more likely to see sense on fighting dragons."

"The Northmen are willing to go South regardless of the lack of advantage in foreign soil if the Iron Islands tell us anything." Strickland pointed out.

Do Giants make them that confident on felling dragons? All it would take is a surprise and the giants would be made

"You have such little faith in my reign Lord Tarly. You speak like all of the realm is in rebellion." Daenerys said coldly.

"It is better you have less control than you have and more knowledge on your enemies. I wouldn't be the only one slighted by your Dothraki Savages or Unsullied. One need only look at the Knights of the Bold in this city to see that." Tarly said wisely.

My sister had the faith militant. I have a group of smallfolk in the city that want justice for Ser Barristan and all those killed and raped by Dothraki in the taking of king's Landing. I'm not sure which is worse.

"The Bold are nothing more than looters who question the truth and the authority of the city watch. They wouldn't dare if near my children." Daenerys responded bluntly.

"And yet they have killed over one hundred Unsullied and the same in Dothraki in back alleys in the snow." Randyll shot back.

Daenerys looked ready to attack the man and declare him a traitor. He was in a certain way, bringing one of Dickon's daughters in contact with Aegon's eldest bastard and having had his son marry a Hightower girl to secure power in the Reach. Tyrion doubted the man wanted to overthrow Daenerys but he wanted to secure the Reach and throne when she was dead. And have the Tyrells punished for being poor Liege Lords since Robert's Rebellion. Aegon interrupted thankfully before she exploded.

"How many Kingdoms do you think we have Lord Tyrion?" Aegon questioned with a hint of distaste. He didn't like Tarly's words as much as Daenerys but hid it well behind all the scars. He needs to listen because he wants to prove himself on the field against Snow.

"I would say you have four not including the Crownlands. You have the Stormlands via the Company, Dorne through your relations, the Reach and the Westerlands." Tyrion replied easily.

Though

"And what are the numbers?" Aegon asked.

"You currently have access to 8000 men and one hundred surviving elephants in Dorne. Whether that will increase from the Storm lords is debatable but they have been repeatedly spent since the War of the Five Kings and winter. It wouldn't amount to more than six thousand after all of that." Strickland said confidently.

Arianne answered her paramour sweetly. Like a Viper's poison her words. "You will have Dorne and twenty-five thousand spears. I have sent Dark star South to muster them."

"The Reach has some forty thousand men at the most. Winter and your Dothraki raiders have reduced our small folk significantly."

Still the largest here though. Tyrion thought as they all turned to him. "The Westerlands number some ten thousand at the most. My forces have been hit very hard over the years.

I'm lucky to have that many these days. The Westerlands had been smashed by Robb Stark until his death and had been damaged further holding the reign together under Cersei. They had become even more diminished after Daenerys' conquest.

"It is still more than the Northerners will ever have even without my 10,000 Dothraki and 3000 unsullied in the war." Daenerys added confidently. Maybe if her Dothraki numbered 40,000 and

her Unsullied 8000 like they once were I would be more confident. Winter and hatred of them has not been kind to them.

Randyll Tarly scowled at the mention of Dothraki. "With the Vale and Riverlands the Northerners are likely to still have some sixty thousand men. Potentially more if they use all of their reserves. We will have to plan accordingly."

"Then myself and Lord Tarly will work on strategy whilst the rest of you muster our forces." Aegon said before Daenerys could to her irritancy.

Daenerys look displeased as she stood. "You are all dismissed."

And with the Dragon Queen left abruptly, followed by Aegon in the opposite direction. Tyrion stayed until there was just him and Varys. Tyrion took another long sip.

"That went better than expected." Tyrion started.

"There have been worse Small Council Meetings. Though ones for war always feel particularly painful." Varys replied calmly.

"Will your faction to remove Daenerys suspend for the war? I would rather have our forces united against the North." Tyrion asked coyly.

He knew well enough that Varys had been stirring. He hadn't been the one to start the Bold but had spread whispers that it was the Dragon Queen and her Dothraki's fault. He'd encouraged Aegon to keep all his bastards in court and to have the eldest betrothed soon as well. And they were the only whisper Tyrion could find over the years. Even though there were more than could be imagined.

Varys smiled. "Perhaps. I believe for the good of the realm it is best to portray a united front. I will not meddle with Lords against Daenerys for the time being."

That's a lie. Tyrion thought to himself as Varys continued.

"And will you bring all of your forces to this war? Or do you intend to do something akin to your

Father and the Late Mace Tyrell."

Tyrion smiled wryly. Internally he was angry. How did he know I had considered that very notion? Tyrion had contemplated sending his most disloyal lords to die. Win or lose he would have less to deal with in his position of power.

"I'm not my father." Tyrion said bluntly.

"And yet you act so similar." Varys said simply as he floated off, leaving Tyrion alone to his drink.

War is here and the realm will be torn apart again. May we be the victor and have the Northmen fall once and for all. Tyrion thought as he felt another chill down his spine.

Sansa

The Dothraki were starting to move into the Riverlands. From what Sansa could gather from Lord Royce's tactical knowledge; they were being sent in to weaken the Riverlands whilst the proper armies of the South mustered. It had been a pre-emptive strike on the Riverlands. The Targaryens had clearly thought that the Riverlands would side with the Northmen when they came South. Something that was inevitable now that the word had come of the Northmen ending the Iron Islands for good. According to Lord Royce the strategy was effective for weakening an enemy's ability for forming a host but Sansa knew that not giving any Riverlords the chance to openly defect to the crown meant that they had lost any River houses that may have supported them. Sansa hoped that her Uncle Edmure had managed to get as much of his banners to Riverrun to avoid their forces being completely ravaged by them. Please don't make the same mistake you had before the war of five Kings Uncle. Sansa hoped as the knights of the Vale made their way through the bloody gate in aid of her Uncle and brother when he arrived in the South. The Vale was to bring Thirty Thousand soldiers to this war. It would not be said that the Vale did not join this war to end the dragons. They had abandoned Robb when he fought for her and Father but they would not now. They would fight to avenge Arya Stark on their former Lady Regent's behalf. This is their last obligation to me. Sansa thought as she rode onwards.

Sansa had spent the last fifteen years ruling the vale on the behalf of her late husband's bastard daughters, legitimised by both the Vale and House Targaryen. They had proved to be the best option due to the lack of appeal for the Arryns of Gull Town, the extinction of all other Arryns due to Baelish and the knowledge that whatever house married Alys would become the leading House of the Vale. As the widow of Lord Arryn, she'd been the only real choice for regent and she had both House Arryn's forces and Lord Royce's forces to secure that. Her regency had ended though with the marriage of Andar Royce's son Robar to Alys but House Royce and the girl she had raised as a daughter were willing to keep her in a position of power. As did much of the Vale that had seen her rule and successfully worm her way out of marriages that were offered by the crown due a few well bribed Maesters to say that she was barren. It saddened her that she had to do that but Alys and Minisa had become her children. Though with Alys wed and Minisa soon to be married to her cousin Hoster Tully, Sansa would soon have no true ties to the Vale. Instead, she would be re- joined with the Pack.

She had yearned for it for so long. To be re-joined with Jon and Rickon. The news that her youngest brother lived from Brienne all of those years ago had brought some joy out of the grief over Arya's death. The pack had survived more than she had expected and her and Jon weren't as alone as she had first thought. Soon Sansa would be home to see her brothers and her nieces and nephews she had learnt of every time Brienne had been sent North to discuss the plans of the King in the North. Sansa had 5 nephews and nieces by Jon and Val and three by Rickon and Lyanna. Rickard, Brandon, Lyarra, Eddard and Robb. Maege, Tormund and Dacey. Sansa looked forward to knowing them all by more than their names. And she longed to have them know that their aunt

had stood with their Mothers and Fathers. For Arya.

Davos

Davos smiled proudly as he watched his son Devan, the new Lord of Rainwood, captain their ship through the harsh seas of the Stormlands. It filled him with joy to see his eldest living son completely attuned to the sea and the ships. His younger sons were much the same, having taken command of ships within the Northern Navy on the East and West coast and given coastal lands to run. The seas were in his sons' blood. But looking at them now makes me wish I was that young to be able to do that as effortlessly. Davos thought somewhat enviously as he made his way into Shireen's Quarters on the Storm Shatterer. He knew he should be more accepting of time making him older and turning his hair as white as snow and his bones creakier than a door in flea bottom. But seeing his sons fully grown and able to do what he could once with ease made him feel it nonetheless.

"Uncle Davos is coming!"

And these two make me feel even older. Davos thought wryly as he saw two twin eight-year-olds sitting outside Shireen's Quarters. The twin sons of Shireen clearly had the Baratheon look with thick black hair, the makings of the strong jawline and deep Baratheon blue eyes. Very little of their father had been left in them but you could see bits of him if you knew where to look. The speckle of blue-grey at the centre of their deep blue eyes, fairer skin and a longer face than usual in a Baratheon were enough for any Northmen to know that the wild wolf Davos had brought home had fathered them. It was something that had transpired after the newly-wed wolf and she-bear had invited Shireen on a hunt. The two women had come back pregnant after that and Toregg and Dryn had both been guessing whether it was the wolf or the She-bear that had initiated it. Davos honestly didn't want to know, simply being content with seeing the young Shireen happy.

Stannis, the elder of the two, had shouted excitedly through the open cabin door before running towards him with his brother Davos.

Davos grinned at the young Baratheon's words before the twins barged into him and gave him a hug.

"How are my young Princes?" Davos asked kindly.

His namesake was the first to answer him, looking at him with a cheerful smile.

"Excellent Uncle Davos! We're no longer sea sick!"

Davos chuckled. "Well, I would hope my namesake would be at home on the sea."

"Will you or Devan teach us to climb the rigging?" Stannis asked eagerly.

Davos smiled. "Go run up the deck now and I'm sure Devan will be happy to show you. The sea is a bit harsh but there are no storms to cause any problems."

"Our ancestors fought the Storms Uncle Davos! They're nothing for a Baratheon!" Stannis exclaimed happily as the two twins charged up to the deck, leaving Davos facing Shireen by the door. She was smiling sweetly at him.

"I sometimes feel like they want to follow in your steps rather than be Princes of the Six Kingdoms. They love the tale of how you smuggled onions in for Father."

Davos smiled at the woman before him. It was still strange to see her as a woman grown and not

the child but it warmed him that she had lived when life had repeatedly been unkind to her before Winter. In truth, Davos shouldn't have been surprised. The Queen of the Six Kingdoms was her Father's daughter. Too stubborn to let the storms weather her.

"I wouldn't worry Your Grace. You've taught them well enough that smuggling is no business for them."

"And what will I say to them when they learn that taking back Storm's End required us being smuggled in once the Golden Company has left for war? They'll have two stories of how brilliant the smugglers life is." Shireen asked wryly.

Davos simply raised his fingerless hand. "And I believe I've shown them the consequences of a long-term smuggling more than enough times."

Shireen laughed kindly as the to took a seat in her quarters. Davos could see maps and blocks with different houses in the Stormlands. It was quite a detailed map too, listing the various house numbers and their strength that had been gathered in preparation for taking back the Stormlands. The years had not been kind to the Stormlands with their forces only amounting to just over six thousand fighting men. It was a small army but well equipped thanks to years of smuggling weapons in from the North in Shireen's name. And thankfully that force would be aided by themselves, bringing a thousand Northmen and the Manderly Navy to take Storm's End from the small Garrison that would be left by the Golden Company. They would have the support of Edric Storm. Robert Baratheon's bastard that Davos had sent off in a boat had been found three years back in the East with a two thousand strong sell sword group. Shireen and the King in the North had brought them to the North bringing them South to assimilate with the Storm lords on Shireen's behalf. He would be the one to gather the banners and pledge them to Shireen once Davos had smuggled her into Storm's End.

"I'm nervous about this Davos." Shireen admitted as they both looked at the map.

"The plan is a sound plan that you worked on your Grace. And a one that doesn't require much from the Stormlands in this war until the end when the Northmen have won. Davos replied confidently in hopes to assure her.

Shireen nodded. "I'm more concerned on whether Edric will decide he wants to be King or the Storm Lords will decide that for him. A sensible option would have been to marry him but our children would be behind in the succession unless I declared Stannis and Davos illegitimate. It is risky me demanding he settle for being the Lord of Storm's End."

She's always been a smart one. Thinking of every possible risk. "I have no worries Your Grace. I doubt the Storm Lords will survive you if they demand they make Stannis and Davos bastards."

Nor would they survive the wolf and she-bear should they hear it.

"Ours is the fury." Shireen replied with a smile returning to her lips.

Davos smiled as the tow started to look over plans again for putting the rightful Queen into power. She looked as stern as her father in that moment. I may not have been able to make her Queen of the Seven my King. But I've helped keep her safe all these years and will make her Queen of the Six.

Val

The war had truly begun with Rickon's victorious return from the Iron Islands. The Prince of

Winterfell and defender of Moat Cailin had earnt his name as the Hungry Wolf Reborn through his extinction of the squids. Every Northman had come back with skulls strapped to their horses. Rickon had taken Victarion's skull. His wife Lyanna had taken Asha Greyjoy's skull, wearing it at the hip of her new Valyrian Steel armour adorned in the colours of House Stark and Mormont. And her eldest son of her 5 children, Rickard, had brought the head of Lord Drumm home on his horse and Lord Drumm's sword at his hip, looking solemn until he greeted them. Val and Jon had both been proud of their son in that moment as her husband had greeted him with a bear hug. It was their son's first true taste of war outside of the skirmishes they had taken him on and their son had learnt the horrors of it and the necessities that came of it. The Man who passes the sentence must swing the sword. Their son knew the ways of the first men and how to be a warrior of the first men. He will guard the North and the children well while me and Jon fight the Southerners. Val thought proudly as she walked through the silent Godswood to find her husband. He had left quickly after speaking with all of the bannermen on the war to come after the victory feast.

Val knew he would be in the Godswood. It was where he went for solace or whenever a bout of mourning and rage consumed him that not even fighting bandits and squids could temper. Fifteen years had passed, and although the King in the North had been able to live despite the pain, the loss of Arya had never ebbed and the hate of the dragons had only grown. It had stayed strong within the ice and Wolfblood that flowed through his veins, much like it did in herself and every other Northerner that had lost to the dragons. The North will never forget, the King in the North most of all.

The silence of the Godswood was broken by the padding of Frost towards Val. The Direwolf was her daughter Lyarra's. He's asking for the sword back. Val realised as Frost guided her towards the Heart Tree where her husband and daughter sat. Val smiled as she looked at her husband in a more relaxed, joyful manner. Something only reserved for family and the banners when time allowed. When the savage white wolf of winter and King in the North was not needed. Her husband's hair was still mostly dark brown hair but faint lines of white were starting to show on his sides and within his beard. It made him look more at one with the snows of the north. His grey eyes had become harder and more savage ever since Arya's death; something that had never left him even when he was at his most joyful with the pack and people. The scars across his face had whitened over time but looked no less fearsome. Especially the scar across his face from the First Other. It sometimes felt cold to touch in comparison to the Weirwood branch scars across his chest which let Val feel his savage heartbeat. The proof that the Wolfblood pumped strong around his body and was blessed with life by the Old Gods.

Lyarra, with her honey blonde hair and grey eyes, looked up intently at her father as she slowly handed needle back to her Father. He had given it to her on her seventh name-day for her to learn to fight. She had spent three years now with it in her hand and this would be the first time it had left. And he will give it back to her once blood has been spilt with it. Val knew as he heard him make that vow quietly before giving his daughter a hug and sending her off running into the Godswood. Frost decided to follow her Stark eagerly. Her husband's gaze had turned to needle, and his face had turned from kind and solemn into that of his wolf in instant. Ghost and Nymeria had come to sit beside him, both growling alongside their King.

"We're at war now love." Val said simply as she sat beside him in front of the Heart Tree.

Jon kept his eyes transfixed on needle. She could still see the bits of blackened char at the hilt which had never quite left. He spoke with a low, guttural growl.

"Aye. I've waited long enough. I've held back long enough. I look forward to going South. I want to hunt."

His eyes flashed like Ghost's eyes for a moment as he said those last words. Val put her hand to his face and pulled him up from needle. His eyes softened slightly despite the snarl and teeth being almost bare.

"I do too. It is about time kneelers see the Queen of Winter. I can show them what true women are made of."

Jon started to smile wolfishly at her as he put a hand around her face. "It's time the South remembered for a change."

And with what you want to do to the dragons, I doubt the kneelers will ever forget. Val thought as the two kissed deeply with the wolves howling in the Godswood. They'll never forget either of us and the North.

Wylis

The bulk of his navy had gone South to help take Storm's End and eventually besiege the capital's ports when the time came. The rest of Wylis' fleet was currently helping the Skagosi fleet bring their soldiers to the mainland for the war against the dragons. The King in the North had called the rest of the banners after Prince Rickon's ending of the Squids. Twenty-Five Thousand Northmen would be marching South with Fifteen Thousand left in the North under Crown Prince Rickard's control and one thousand at Storm's End. The might of the Vale and Riverlands would be joining them as well. They would have near enough to sixty thousand men, women, wolves and giants to beat the dragons and the Lord of White harbour was proud to be a part of it. The North will not bend. Wylis thought to himself before he heard the almighty, guttural roar from Skagos that turned everyone on the Lord of White Harbour's ships silent.

The Sound had come from the Volcano at the centre of the island. It was primal and powerful as it got louder and louder; and nearer and nearer as small bursts of flame erupted from the mountain, spewing on the tops of the Volcano. It was followed by a large tremor as the top quarter of the Volcano burst open, sending rocks tumbling down the mountain. The roar became almost deafening as giant coal black wings flew upwards into the sky with giant yellow eyes joining the sky. The monster that Wylis had been warned of all of those years ago by the Crowl was free. The further up the great beast got, the darker it became for their ships. It's big enough to blot out the sun. Wylis thought with a cold terror as the giant flew in the sky. Darkness turned to fire as the Dragon breathed upwards, sending a large cyclone of flames upwards towards the sun like it was a challenge before beginning to fly Southward, returning the light to Manderly and his navy. Cannibal's joined the Northern army. Wylis thought with both dread and excitement flowing through his veins as he watched the great demon fly away, roaring louder than any crashing wave the Lord of White Harbour had come up against.

Gendry

The Prince's Pass was one of two ways that you could enter or leave Dorne by foot if you were commanding a host of soldiers. It made Dorne much more defensible from the Northern Kingdoms and allowed for less men to be able to hold the pass against the North. The Bone way also served the same purpose. At least that was what Gendry had been taught during his time in Dorne as he looked over the Dornish army that was marching through the pass. There was something close to twenty-five thousand men under the command of Gerold Dayne and Daemon Sand; heading North to fight on behalf of Princess Arianne and House Targaryen against the Starks. It was an impressive host that even included the company's elephants. But it was a host that had taken a lot longer to forge than usual for Dorne. And that was because of Lord Yronwood and Lord Dayne, his closest friend.

Ever since the taking of King's Landing and the attempted use of Ashara Dayne as a hostage, and my own heritage forcing me to be smuggled out, Edric Dayne had become a very unsupportive Dornish Lord in regards to the Targaryen reign. His friend hadn't been able to do much in the early years of winter in action against the dragons but time had been merciful for him due to Arianne's prolonged presence in the courts. The Princess had changed her tune apparently from when she was young and had committed herself to wanting to rule the Seven Kingdoms; something she had gone a long way in doing by giving potential heirs where Daenerys Targaryen had given none. Her Long-term absences allowed for House Yronwood to more openly express its displeasure at Daenerys Targaryen inadvertently killing Quentyn Martell in Meereen without a strong Martell presence to remind them who ran Dorne. That had led to Edric marrying the Lady Gwyneth Yronwood as a show of support. More minor houses in Dorne had started singing similar tunes when they had nobody but Manfrey Martell to petition to who had very little power as Castellan at Sunspear despite being known to have done his best under the circumstances.

It had become a perfect storm and when Arianne called the banners to march North; houses refused and forced more loyal houses to give all of their levies instead of it being more spread out across the Lords of Dorne. Those that had refused the call had answered Lord Dayne and Lord Yronwood's though under the position of making Manfrey Martell the Prince of Dorne. They had slowly but surely made a host of ten thousand to take control. But today there's only one thousand of us. Gendry thought as he looked to where one thousand Spears and knights stood ready at the bottom of the pass. It was all that could be snuck into the pass unnoticed. He would join them soon once Edric and him had finished scouting the enemy army.

Gendry felt a pat on his shoulder as his friend came up to him. His friend had a grin on his face as he looked over the battlefield and to him. He could see Dawn shining at his hip. The sword that had helped to slay the Mountain.

"You look tense Bullhorns. A bit nervous for this?"

Gendry grinned at the nickname. It was the name he had chosen once Edric had knighted him. It suited his bull helmet.

"You know as well as I do that this will end in a defeat. You should be too Ned." Gendry responded, albeit light-heartedly.

Edric smiled. "I suppose that's true. But we have faced worse. We were both at the taking of King's Landing and if I remember rightly it was you that returned to help train members of the Knights of the Bold despite the risk."

Gendry smiled sadly at the memory. He had gone back to do that to help his people as a knight should. He'd helped train men to use the sword and hammer with Brynden Tully whenever the old Blackfish had snuck himself into the city. He'd also had to carry his body to the sea to be buried without anyone knowing he'd been in the city after he passed defending members of the Bold from an Unsullied raid on a training session. Gendry had smashed his hammer into the rest of the Unsullied that Brynden hadn't got to keep Brynden's involvement hidden.

"Well, I suppose I'm just a stubborn risk-taker. Must be in the flea bottom blood." Edric nodded at the words. He knew better than to make a comment about being Robert

Baratheon's son. I'm no King or Lord. Just a knighted Blacksmith.

"It's in the Dornish blood as well. The fight's going to be a tough one even if we have to break so

they've got something to chase."

Gendry took another look down at their small host. They all knew that they had to rout at a certain point of the battle and get away enough for the Dornish to give chase. They needed the Dornish army out of Dorne as quickly as possible so no forces could be sent back to deal with Yronwood as he took Sky Reach from House Fowler; securing both passes into Dorne by land.

"And who better to chase than Ned Dayne, Sword of the Morning." Gendry replied wryly "And his bull-headed friend, Ser Gendry Bullhorns." Edric finished.

The two laughed as they made to re-join their force as they spotted the final portion of the large host.

*

The Dornish spears before Gendry looked all the more fearsome than they did from above. You couldn't see the entirety of the enemy but you could feel their power all the more. He could tell the one thousand men here were feeling the same for all they knew what was soon to happen. Gendry could see the odd few shake the spears and swords slightly from behind. The riders were calming their horses in response to the thousands of steps and hooves. They would all calm once the battle started though. Edric had picked mostly greybeards and veterans for this battle. Experienced Soldiers will be good for this. Gendry thought as he watched a small parley banner head to the centre to meet with Edric. The scouts had found the army and Daemon Sand and the Dark Star Dayne wanted to treat. More likely Sand. The Dark Star's a piece of work if Edric's right. Gendry had heard that Doran had planned on having the man executed for killing Myrcella Baratheon which resulted in Prince Trystane's eventually suicide from a broken heart. But upon Doran's death, shortly after King's Landing had been taken, Arianne had changed the order and kept him as a guard.

Edric's words seemed to be true if appearance was anything to go by. His combed sandy blonde

hair, high cheek bones and regal pose all screamed the part of an arrogant cunt. Edric's great cousin looked looked at both Edric and Gendry with both disdain and haughtiness in those purple eyes. It was a look he had seen on so many arrogant Lords he had come across in his life from his time in Flea Bottom and on the roads.

"I see my Great cousin has decided to betray Dorne. That's two Swords of the Morning to have done that. I'm looking forward to taking Dawn from you after I cut it from your traitorous hands." Gerold Dayne said first before Daemon Sand could speak.

Prick.

Edric didn't look fazed as he turned his attention to Daemon and ignoring the Dark Star. "I won't have Dorne fight against my kin from the North. And I won't allow the injustice done to my Aunt Ashara go unpunished. I can't allow you to pass Ser Daemon."

Daemon looked saddened by that. "I want this to be peaceful Edric. You just have to let us pass and we can forget this. Princess Arianne would understand why you have not joined your banners with Dorne. Princess Arianne would not have you be seen as a traitor to Dorne."

"Princess Arianne betrayed Dorne when she let the Targaryens attempt to turn my Aunt into a hostage. She has betrayed Dorne the past fifteen years from ruling from afar and leaving Dorne to rely on a Castellan that she refused to give more power to. Arianne is my enemy as well." Edric replied calmly.

Daemon sighed but nodded. Gerold smiled arrogantly. How is Edric kin to this? Gendry thought. The two had similar sandy hair and Edric's eyes almost look purple in certain lights but the two Daynes were complete opposites. Like day and night. Like Dawn and Dusk.

"I can't wait to take Dawn and Starfall from you and your sons and daughters Cousin." Edric looked at him calmly. "I wish you good luck in the wars to come. You'll need it."

And with that, Edric turned his horse. Gendry followed suit to join the lines that would be fighting in a matter of hours. Most likely less.

*

The Spears were approaching quickly as Gendry too his place with the men on the ground. He would use horse in the retreat alongside Edric as the main group for the host to chase out of Dorne whilst the rest gradually disappeared into mountains. Gendry gripped the Warhammer he had forged hard as the spears came closer. He could feel his blood start to pump as the spears of Dorne got closer. Gendry kept a calm demeanour like Edric which seemed to spread to their forces. They were ready for the hit and had the advantage of defending their piece of the pass in the valley over attacking. They just had to hold instead of push.

And all hell broke loose as Dornish Spears met Dornish Spears and Swords. The known passion for fighting in Dorne seemed to erupt in an instant as the two sides clashed. Gendry felt the push of the spears on them as they tried to break their lines. Their lines wouldn't break until ready though.

Gendry wouldn't fail his friend as he struck his Warhammer into a Dornish skull before him; blood and skull drenching Dornish soldiers around his kill. Gendry took that as an opening for him to do more damage, swinging the great Warhammer quickly and efficiently into their skulls as well. Spears dropped to the ground as Gendry continued to fight. He could feel his blood pumping quicker and quicker with every kill. Each strike of his hammer feeling more powerful as he swung it into Spears, shields and the Dornish. It was always thrilling once he got started in the fight.

Gendry had learnt that in the taking of King's Landing and his time with the bold. Today was no different as he fought harder and harder with every single one of the men beside him. Out of the corner of his eye, Gendry could see his thousand Dornish soldiers holding their lines' each man fighting quickly and efficiently as new spears replaced the ones they had cut down. They all looked impressive in their bloodlust.

And none looked more impressive than Ned Dayne, the Sword of the Morning. Dawn glistened with blood as Edric cut through spears as if they were made of butter. It almost looked like a Dance when watching Ned fight. His parries and strikes were all elegant, smooth and quick as he cut through the lines. That was how he had cut the Mountain's Leg off and helped to end that beast. He was quicker than everyone else with the sword. It never ceased to amaze Gendry at how his friend could do that. I prefer my hammer though. Gendry thought as he smashed at a man's armour repeatedly until it broke apart, allowing Gendry to take another smash through the ribs. The spearman fell to the ground, the hammer smashing the breath out of him. Gendry finished it quickly as he moved onto the next one. Both hosts were making their own chants as they tried to cut down the other.

"FOR DORNE!!"

"FOR PRINCESS ARIANNE!"

"FOR THE SWORD OF THE MORNING!" "FOR VENGEANCE!"

The chants and noises all blurred in the clashes of steel as they kept attacking each other furiously. Neither side was giving up, instead tearing into each other repeatedly. Gendry could feel himself standing in gore where their lines were. It was a bloodbath as soldiers kept coming at them until Gerold Dayne rode through the lines towards Edric. The arrogant Dark Star got off his horse and joined his way to the front to meet Edric's sword. Gendry turned himself towards the oncoming conflict as he smashed his hammer into another spear. He could hear Dark Star's voice as the two Dayne's clashed, louder than everyone else's on the front.

"I can't wait to melt that sword down and turn it into my own blade cousin!!!"

Gendry could hear the glee in his enemy's voice as he slashed at Ned. His friend was deflecting

the blows calmly, not speaking as he fought with Dark Star. Gerold Dayne was clearly a talented... and aggressive fighter. Each blow was quick but extremely forceful as his sword tried to get through Ned's guard. It was clear that his friend was making more of an effort with Dark Star but Ned still looked graceful as he deflected every blow. He looked at ease and calm. Gerold is talented but Ned is clearly the better. Gendry thought confidently as he watched the fight out of the corner of his eye. His thoughts were proving to be true with Ned changing from a defensive form to offensive. It seemed like he had got quicker in an instant as he reigned down multiple strikes on the Dark Star and any spear around them trying to kill the Lord of Starfall. It was almost like lightning. Bodies dropped faster than they could be replaced as dawn moved through them like they were air. Gerold was deflecting what blows he could but the speed of Ned had turned the clash of Daynes from a fight to a decimation. Every strike pushed Dark Star into a weaker position. He was gradually being cornered and left with no options to attack whilst all the sword of the morning did was assault. His friend was winning. And pushing forward too. Not enough to get lost within enemy lines but enough to make the royal host nervous. Ned's men started to chant as their spears and swords pushed forward with more power.

"Dawn!!"

"Dawn!!"

"Dawn!!"

The ancient sword seemed to answer the cries of the soldiers, effortlessly disarming the Dark Star and bringing him onto the ground. Gendry roared in victory of the sight, sending his hammer into another spear attacking the lines. His blood was pumping faster. Just kill him and get back to the lines now. His friend kicked Dark Star in the face instead to Gendry's brief annoyance and started to push back to his own lines. He won't slay kin. Gendry realised as Dawn once again cut through spears to get back. Ned was focused on dealing with the spears as he made his way back. He didn't see the Dark Star had recovered from behind, knifing Ned in the back of his leg and then the arm. The knife had clearly got through the armour as Ned dropped to the ground, now parrying from below. Dark star and Dornish spears were all trying to break through the weakening sword of the Morning's defence.

Gendry saw red at Gerold's dark grin and roared.

"NED!!"

Everyone but Dark Star's face had disappeared in an instant as Gendry charged forward like a bull. All thoughts had left him and only rage was with him. His hammer crushed every skull before him like they were paste as he kept charging. It kept getting redder and redder for Gendry as he made his way closer. Seeing nothing but Dark Star and hearing only the screams as he kept going through whatever was before him. His heart was beating furiously alongside each swing of the Warhammer. It was red too. And it became redder when he got to those that dared harm his brother. Gendry's Warhammer smashed against the Dornish around Ned. Their spears turned to ruin and their bones to dust as he cleared an opening for his friend to get up. His brother nodded gratefully as he started to gracefully cut back to the lines.

Gendry could barely see that nod for the blood, continuing to tear forward and at Dark Star. He wouldn't stop until the shit was dead. Until he'd gored him He could see a hint of fear in his eyes as the hammer swung towards Dayne. Gendry roared as he smashed at the sword again and again. Pushing Dark Star further and further back; more blood joining with Gendry's hammer. Each strike of the hammer felt more brutal and punishing as it hit the steel sword. And then the hammer broke the sword in half. Gendry roared again as he smashed the hammer into Dark Star's terrified face. Gerold Dayne wasn't quick enough to duck as the hammer cleaved the top half of his skull off. Gendry roared again as his vision turned redder, turning his attention to the Dornish around him. He swung again and again until a piercing shout came from his brother.

"Retreat!!!!! Fall Back Bullhorns!!!!"

The words brought him back for a moment to see that the men were running into the mountains and the riders were powering along. Only Edric and a few riders were waiting for him on horseback with a horse for himself. Gendry bolted towards them, running across a litter of bodies from a distance he didn't think he'd covered. The lines had done better than expected.

"How did you not hear the horn for retreat??!" Ned yelled in astonishment as Gendry got on his horse and started to ride with speed in the pass.

"I didn't hear it! The enemy must have been too loud!" Gendry answered.

Ned looked at him in disbelief. "You turned the battlefield silent with that hammer! You gave the men more time to fall back than we'd hoped!"

Gendry didn't believe him as they rode away. The sound of Cavalry starting to come from behind. "Your plan worked then! We've got them on our arses! Where now?"

Ned was still looking at him with disbelief. "We keep riding brother. All the way to Black Haven where we can hide until Yronwood does his part!"

Gendry smiled at his brother as the group rode away from the Dornish army that would be dogging their steps.

Sansa

The ride through the Riverlands had shown Sansa what the Dothraki had been doing. She had seen all of the towns and villages that had been razed to the ground and looted of anything of value. It made Sansa understand why her Uncle Edmure had decided to send small parties to defend whatever towns he could. He cares about his smallfolk. Edmure Tully had done something similar when the Lannisters had started burning the Riverlands before the War of the Five Kings. It was admirable but prevented the River lord from having a full host when the Lannisters came in force and had ultimately trapped him until Robb came. History had seemingly repeated itself with only half of Edmure's Ten Thousand Men being at Riverrun when she arrived. A quarter of his force was scattered defending villages to the East. The other quarter was primarily foot and stuck at Sea Guard by the bulk of Dothraki that had snuck North to Oldstones. It would be a death sentence to leave Sea Guard and risk being ambushed by cavalry.

It wasn't a good start for the war and the Dothraki being that far North would give them the

chance to raze the Northern Riverlands as they pleased. The reveal at Riverrun had forced a very quick wedding between Hoster Tully and Minisa Arryn to renew the two Kingdoms' alliance before going Northward to fight the Dothraki and thus regain a quarter of the Riverlands army. Sansa was currently riding Northward with her Uncle Edmure's forces and ten thousand of the knights of the Vale to meet the Dothraki in battle; with the Lady Regent observing the battle from a safe distance. I know I can't fight but I will be there. Sansa thought as she rode with her Uncle Edmure and Lord Royce; the two Lords' sons and grandson leading the host from the front. She wished her Uncle Brynden was still alive. He would have been too old to fight but she knew he would have been a part of it regardless of age. It was why he had trained knights of the bold in King's Landing and it ultimately killed him. I hope you made better knights than the ones that plagued the capital in my time Uncle.

"One of the Lannister hosts had been defeated by the Dothraki. Do you feel confident about the Knights of the Vale meeting the Dothraki on the field Lord Royce?" Edmure asked, Tully blue eyes turning to the old Lord of Runestone.

Yohn nodded, his aged face only showing confidence. "I am Lord Tully. As should you. The Dothraki may have a talent for riding on horseback and breaking unprepared foot soldiers or unguarded villages but they have not adapted to dealing with armour and better equipment. Our armoured knights will be more than a match for them alongside good strategy."

Sansa smiled at the Old Lord's words. The aging Lord of Runestone's knowledge on military tactics made her feel all the more confident on the battle to come.

"Randyll Tarly has proven himself quite adequate in dealing with Dothraki raiding parties over the years too." Edmure said with some confidence after hearing the old Lord's words.

"And the Lannisters were only defeated by them due to being attacked in an open position by surprise if I remember from news of the Targaryen Restoration." Sansa added.

Edmure nodded. His gaze had turned to their armies at the front. "I'm lucky in a way that the Dothraki were sent into the Riverlands. I don't think I'd have been able to gather most of my banners otherwise to fight your brother's war based on Lord Blackwood and his men's words that the Northmen command giants. Even with news of him wiping out the Iron Born permanently."

"Our war Uncle Edmure. They killed my sister and your niece." Sansa said sharply.

It was our war they moment they burnt her alive without a care. And it was our war before that because the North Remembers.

Edmure sighed. "I haven't forgotten that Sansa. I mourn her as much as you do or as much as Cat would. But this is still a war that your brother started nonetheless. A one that could very well get us all killed for him being foolish enough to dare fight dragons."

Sansa knew that her Uncle had a point. She knew her histories and Arya's death were more than enough proof of the power of dragons. They did risk a field of fire. Sansa had heard it enough when she had called the banners as her last act as Lady Regent. Lords and Ladies of the Vale had been reluctant to support it. Many for the same reason that Edmure pointed out as well as the memory of what Jon did to her late husband despite knowledge that their liege lord had been a puppet of Littlefinger. It had taken the words of the knights Yohn Royce had sent North of giants and arrows by both men and giant piercing dragon scales, Sansa's own politicking and the fact that the dragons had taxed them harshly throughout winter to get them on board. Her unwavering conviction that Jon had a solution and her own desire for justice gave more steel to her words. Arya would have wanted that from me and Jon gave his word to Brienne that he had every means to give us justice for the pack.

"My brother has not taken us on a fool's errand Uncle. If Jon wanted a fool's errand, he wouldn't have waited for fifteen years to exterminate the Iron Born root and stem to start a war. He could have killed the Targaryens at the Wall if he wanted to commit his surviving forces to death and let dragons reign fire upon us all wherever they pleased because they were no longer under control. Jon did none of those things except wait." Sansa responded firmly.

"You believe he has the means to win." Edmure stated.

Sansa nodded. "He loved Arya more than anyone else in this world. Jon wouldn't stop until he had a way of avenging her. I have no doubts."

And with that Sansa pushed her horse forward with the host as thoughts of Arya consumed her. We will avenge her.

*

The hill Sansa was stood a top of gave a clear view of the battle that was taking place. It was also far enough away for her and Lord Royce to be safe with only a few guards which had allowed for the Lady Brienne and Sandor Clegane, her personal guards, to join the fight even if it was to the former's chagrin on not guarding Sansa. She also wants to prove herself as capable as any knight. I don't doubt she'll regret that once the battle is won.

Lord Royce's plan had involved goading the Dothraki to abandon their raiding and reform into their larger Khalasar by sending in small hosts of knights led by Andar, Robar, Hoster and Brienne. The knights would engage the Dothraki parties then feign a retreat, luring them towards the main

host of the Riverlands and Vale that would trap them and smash the Dothraki. Sansa was aware from lord Royce that the Dothraki would have engaged them regardless in battle but by doing this they would reduce the number of their own lost and in the process round up most, if not all, of the Dothraki in one move.

I hope you're right. Sansa thought with a hint of worry as she looked down at the waiting host of knights. It made an imposing sight, seeing thousands of Vale and Tully men at the ready but it did not ease her worries. This was the first true battle she would witness. The relieving of the Riverlands from the Lannisters had been a quick affair and a one that her husband and Baelish had kept her eyes from, only bringing her in when the deed was done. This was the first time she would truly see a battle unfold in all of its horror. Sansa turned her gaze to her aging friend instead. Looking at Lord Royce, Sansa could see the calm on his face as he looked over the host of men at the bottom of the hill. He almost looked relaxed except for the grasping of his sword; something that wasn't a sign of nerves but a longing to fight with his son and eldest Grandson. Too old to fight but not old enough to not long for it.

Sansa's thoughts were broken by the sounds of hooves pounding quickly into the clearing. She could see that the four parties of knights had merged into one at this point as their horses sped across the fields. They were moving extremely fast, galloping harder than she'd seen any rider. The beating of hooves almost sounded like thunder.

"Are they supposed to be coming in this fast Lord Royce?" Sansa asked tentatively, neither of their gazes leaving the battlefield.

"It means they've succeeded in their part of the plan my lady." Lord Royce answered calmly.

It only took a moment for him to be proven right as the sounds of thousands of screams in a foreign tongue rolled through the air, followed by thousands more hooves. The Dothraki were here and there were thousands of them. They've done too well in goading them all. Sansa hadn't seen them before on the field, having only seen them in Daenerys' court when she had come to bend the knee. They looked fearsome then but this was something else as she watched ten thousand Dothraki ride across the field like a knife would across butter. The riders rode effortlessly as if they were born on the horses, gradually gaining on the escaping host. They were also poorly armoured. That was something else that was clear even from above when compared to the forces of the Vale and Riverlands. She could barely see any chain or plate armour glistening off them. Barely any furs either. It more than explained why many Dothraki had died during the winter. They weren't prepared for it. And Sansa doubted they would be prepared for her armoured knights when her forces began to charge, becoming sooner and sooner as the small host started to split into two so it could join the east and west flank that would be used for trapping the Dothraki in a circle. The Dothraki were hurtling behind them though, not far from the small host.

"The men will charge now." Lord Royce said calmly.

Sansa's gaze turned back to the main host; beginning their charge into the Dothraki. They were moving fast. Faster than the small host Brienne had been a part of due to being better rested. The Dothraki had finally realised that there was a large host before them as the last of the host moved to the sides. It clearly didn't deter them as their screams loudened and their horses grew faster. Arrows started to fly on the Dothraki side as their archers started to volley arrows into the knights of the Vale.

"They're going to charge straight into the Knights of the Vale." Sansa said incredulously.

Lord Royce leaned forward on his horse to look closer at the charge. "The Dothraki don't miss a fight head on. Charging forward is their primary tactic."

Sansa simply nodded as she watched more arrows fly into her host. The arrows did very little damage though as the two sides kept charging. And then they clashed. From Sansa's perspective it looked almost like two large fists colliding with each other. And it felt like it too. She could swear that she felt the vibrations even from above, adding to the power of the Dothraki's screams. It looked like a stalemate from her perspective too as Sansa watched both sides merge on the front of each host. Neither side was giving leave for the other as the two battered into each other. It felt like that for an age until her host started to push forward in complete unison.

Sansa breathed a sigh of relief as she watched her forces start to move into the Dothraki lines, the east and west flank joining the fight to box the Dothraki in. Pike men would be moving in shortly from the South to prevent the Dothraki from escaping if they tried.

"How long did the two sides hold like that?" Sansa asked.

Lord Royce chuckled slightly as he looked at their army pushing further into the Dothraki lines. The Dothraki were still screaming furiously as they fought from three sides.

"Less time than you would think. It was only a few minutes. More than to be expected given the lack of armour on the Dothraki side but something they make up for in their abilities on the horse."

"It felt like an age." Sansa said solemnly as she watched her knights continue to fight the Dothraki. It felt good to watch them gradually get pushed back and their army grow smaller. The Dothraki had been there when Arya had been killed. Arya always dreamt of commanding armies.

"The first time you see two hosts clash always feels like an age Lady Sansa. The reality is much quicker." Lord Royce said sagely.

"Especially when we're winning." Sansa said confidently.

It was hard to deny it. The Dothraki were growing smaller as the knights of the Vale and Riverlands army cut into their forces. You couldn't argue that the Dothraki weren't fighting hard. Sansa could feel their fury from above as they cut down knights that had less armour on than others. But that was the Dothraki's problem tenfold. They weren't armoured enough to defend themselves and that was cutting numbers down on their part. And to her shock it had broken their morale from the back as a group of one thousand Dothraki turned and galloped off. The Dothraki never retreat.

"Maybe time here has given these savages some sense." Lord Royce said as he watched the group ride Southward while the rest of the Dothraki continued fighting and losing.

"Where's the Southern Flank?" Sansa asked with worry as she watched the Dothraki run at speed.

Lord Royce looked annoyed as he realised the same thing. "We need that flank to come quickly."

If we lose them, it will take time to find them again and they'll have raided more and delayed the forces at Sea Guard again. Sansa thought with anger as she watched the Dothraki escape; their horses going even faster than in the charge. They were going to make it out of the trap.

And then she heard the roars of giants as they charged out of the Southern flank with crows flying above them. Sansa's mouth was agape. Sansa hadn't seen the giants once, having only heard of them from Brienne's words and that of the Blackwood and Royce men. Their words weren't good enough in describing them as she watched them run into the shocked Dothraki; giant great swords cutting through multiple horses at once as arrows didn't even lock into their steel armour covered in leather. Sansa watched in awe as the fifteen-foot Giants turned Dothraki into broken corpses

with Giant Great Swords, Steel Maces and shields blazing with the Stark Direwolf. It looked like one of Old Nan's tales come to life as they made short work of the Dothraki, killing almost every man but a few stragglers that tried to get behind the giants. Those were met with wolves led by a small group of riders; their howls filling the clearing as they ripped into what was left of the Dothraki with the giants. She knew one of the riders would be Jon. She could see three giant Direwolves with him the size of horses at the head of the slaughter they were making. Howls and roars filled the air as Dothraki blood covered the ground. He's not taking prisoners. Sansa realised as every straggler fell dead to the floor. Torsos split from limbs and blood drenching giant armour and wolf fur.

Lord Royce was watching in shock at the sight. And so was everyone else on the battlefield now that the Dothraki had been wiped out, crows pecking at their corpses. The battle had ended in silence at the sight of giants and wolves. Sansa's lips curved into a smile. It felt wolfish. My Pack's here.

*

Jon or the giants and wolves hadn't stayed after taking their part in the battle. He'd simply left a rider to inform them the Northern host wasn't far away and he wanted to lead them to their encampment. The rider had quickly ridden away after the details had been given by her and Lord Royce; leaving an army of stunned Riverlords and Vale men. Any doubts of Brienne's words and that of those who had been North had been squashed in an instant. Sansa had seen the mix of fear, awe and astonishment on the men, Uncle Edmure included, from the sight upon her descent to the battlefield. She'd seen it on the men who were supposed to have guarded the Southern Flank as well; shocked at the sight and unable to refuse Jon's offer to cover the Southern Flank. That shock was still there in the encampment as they waited for the Northern army to come.

Sansa expected it to be a tense affair. For all that they were allies; there were still Lords of the Vale that held a grudge at Jon killing their liege Lord despite their knowledge that he was nothing more than a puppet of Little Finger. And the Northmen would still not have forgotten the Vale's lack of involvement in trying to free her father and fighting with Robb. But they would work together for this war. There would be no other option at this point. It was Win or Die. But for now, I see my family. Sansa thought with more than a hint of excitement. She wanted to see her brothers and pack.

Her hopes seemed to be answered with a series of howls that turned the Lords towards the direction of the makeshift entrance to the camp. The Northern army had come. Sansa smiled as she took a horse to greet them. The closer she got to the entrance, the more she could hear the feet of giants, the howls of wolves and the chatter Northmen, accents so like her father's. Sansa could feel herself spur her horse onward. It was instinctive as if she were answering the call to go home for all that it was her people coming south for war.

And war they were clearly planning for by the looks of them as Sansa finally got to see her people from a raised part of the camp. There were thousands of Northmen at the ready in their mail and leather; their house banners attached to their attire and flying above them. Sansa could see a mix of men and women with faces that looked hard and determined regardless of age. "Winter does not allow for Green Boys and children of summer." Her Father's words echoed through her mind as she looked at the procession of grizzled Northmen. Sansa turned her horse so she could get to the front of her own Lords that were forming up. Her own men gradually cleared a path for her and took her horse from her once she got to the centre. Directly opposite to Jon and Rickon at the front of the Northern Army, Three Direwolves at their side and two fearsome women in Stark colours and armour.

Sansa hadn't seen Rickon since leaving Winterfell but she could tell it was him in an instant. She

could see his reddish-brown hair and broad build with a long Stark face behind those Tully locks. He looked like Robb even in the eyes despite the tinges of grey within the Tully Blue. He was truly alive and before Sansa as she watched him share a grin with a woman dressed in the colours of House Mormont and Stark over her armour. Lyanna Mormont. The wife Brienne mentioned on one of her visits North for me. Sansa thought with a smile as she tried to hold back the tears of joy at her youngest brother being before her.

"That woman's wearing Valyrian Steel armour." One of the Lords whispered with a hint of distaste as they looked at Rickon's wife.

Sansa ignored the comment as she turned her gaze directly to Jon. The King in the North was wearing similar attire in their last meeting at Moat Cailin with Stark coloured Tartan adorning his breastplate. His savage appearance hadn't left him either, seeming to look more fearsome with the strands of white along the sides of his hair and within his beard. The only true difference Sansa noted in her brother was his weapons. There were two strapped to his back. One that looked to small for him to use and too thin for war. The second weapon though... That almost made her gasp as she looked at the great sword strapped to his back. She knew it in an instant by the pommel. "Ice." Sansa whispered almost reverently as she looked at the sword and her brother. His grey eyes so like Father's met hers. Sansa didn't break her stare with her brother as he raised his hand for the Northern army to stop. She could see his savage side soften to solemn. He looked like Father then. Rickon's gaze turned to her as well, face looking like he had seen a ghost. The Northern army had turned silent as Jon and Rickon got off their horses.

Sansa started to walk forward slowly for a formal welcoming to the camp. Her youngest brother seemed to disagree on formal as he started sprinting towards her and a shout coming off his lips; his accent thick with the North.

"Fuck Propriety!"

And then Rickon had her in a bear hug within an instant. She could feel his grip as he hugged her tightly like the world would end if he didn't. She could feel two Direwolves licking her hands behind Rickon's back. The two hugged like that in silence until she felt another strong hand on her shoulder. Sansa looked to see her eldest brother with a wolfish grin on his face; Ghost by his side. Sansa answered it with her own smile.

"The Knights of the Vale and Riverlands are yours Your Grace."

Jon didn't answer her as he gave his own bear hug, the world seeming to erase around them. All but the pack was there as Sansa felt the wolves come together again. We'll avenge you Arya. The Lone wolf dies but the pack survives. Sansa repeated to herself as she looked into the bright, joyful yellow eyes of Nymeria.