"Do you know of any other types of flowers lady Julia?" Da'Karro asked as he picked some of the flowers. "I will require many if they are so small and... plain. The flowers from my homeland are large and beautiful, I know little of northern flora. Is there perhaps a royal garden or orchard in White harbor I could gather flowers?"

Julia sighed. "There were...once, but I don't know anymore..." She said solemnly. "The city was set ablaze...The Keep where Clara and I lived...There was a beautiful garden...Clara tended to it more then I did...I would go there to pick flowers only to match them to the dresses I would wear..." She said and paused, a tear falling down her cheek as she thought of simpler days

"Forgive me..." She said quickly wiping her tears. "We are too far from the Keep now, and surely it's been occupied...I suppose once Jon returns he can lead us there..." She said softly, looking at the snow covered brushes.

"There were...once, but I don't know anymore..." She said quietly, the smile disappearing from her face, "The city was set ablaze...The Keep where Clara and I lived...There was a beautiful garden...Clara tended to it more then I did...I would go there to pick flowers only to match them to the dresses I would wear..." tears began to well in her eyes at the memory, but she quickly recomposed herself, "Forgive me..." She said quickly wiping her tears. "We are too far from the Keep now, and surely it's been occupied...I suppose once Jon returns he can lead us there..."
Da'Karro had never felt the pang of a lost home. The last time he was in the norht, he was a slave, leaving the north felt like freedom. He had not wished to leave Jeddah for his mission, but had done so willingly. He did not know what it felt like to be forced from ones home. The soemn thoughts made him think of Scarlet, and how she must have felt about losing her home. He hadnt paid that enough attention, he had ben too focused on the future to comfort her about her home lost, he would have to remedy that.
"I am sure Jon will be victorious," he said, pausing from his flower picking, "You will see your home again," he returned to the flowers, "As I will see mine, once this is all over."

Jorg was pissed to say the least. When the cavalry retreated he sent some men to the camp that the Atlanteans attacked only for them to be wiped out by the undead. Not only was he not able to take the city but Wanhope demanded a retreat back to the border. At least it wasn't a total loss, they had still taken enough slaves that the empire would swell with wealth. There was much grain taken from the land as well. He was currently with his soldiers on a forced march back up north, leaving land they had laid waste to behind them.

*****

"It's sinking! We have to through something overboard!" The captain of the ship Neph was on yelled to him. Wanhope had ordered them some time ago to retreat from the Northern States and, but the host took its sweet time ravaging the country on the way. Now many of the ships were filled to the brim with loot. Three had sank already, two carrying valuables, and one carrying a mass of screaming slaves. The plunder he would bring back would bolster the treasury significantly.

"Toss out the male slaves! We don't need them as much as the others." He shouted back at the captain. Neph Dada would rather have that fortune then a few measly slaves. He stared out into the sea as he watched soldiers docking onto Labrador, the ships filled with the spoils of war and the water scattered with slaves.

*****

The forty thousand that had entered the South Atlantic had been ordered to reinforce Falkland. It had only just entered the city's district and already they noticed something off. The commoners were acting strange and there were not nearly the amount that would normally be tending the crops. It seemed that the city was within sight since its district border was so small. The commander in charge ordered a meister to set off the signal for reinforcements. A black beam lit into the day sky.

Jon said nothing for a long while. His dark eyes, hard as dragon glass were fixed on the boy who shared the blood with Wanhope. Roth spoke of cruelty, of such horrors Jon was hard pressed to believe it if it were not from this source he was hearing it from. Such bloodshed, such brutality and savagery Jon struggled to see these people as human. What man could see the systemic killing of men women and children as necessary? Jon set his jaw and spoke, his voice cold but leveled and calm.

"If you're trying to measure grief don't, you'll lose that wager. I think you'll find orphans of murdered parents unsympathetic to the plights of butchers..."

Jon voice had the bite of winter with all the unfeeling chill that came with it. Then he sighed and his tone warmed, ever so slightly.

"But I'm not Wanhope. I'm not the kind of man who justifies genocide. Those... practices should have been stopped years ago. If you truly want to see an end to cruelty, for both our peoples then you and I have much more to discuss than what can be said here and now."

Jon got to his feet and descended the stairs to stand face to face with the young prince of Khalidor.

"I'd speak with you in private, if you're up to it. You're men can wait here, get something to eat while we talk about the future of our kingdoms."




Robb Stark armed himself with rage and cloaked himself in fury. Everything he'd loved had become everything he'd lost but not today, not this time, not with her. He would find her, he would save her. Jon had been taken from him, and Clara and his country. The gods had seen fit to return Jon and Clara to him and he was still fighting for his home but Robyn, Robyn he would not wait for. He would ride out into the night, into the jaws of death if need be but he would find her. He would not abandon her to torment and death, not while he had strength in him. She was his and he was hers, from this day to all the days to come.

He saddled his war horse and prepared for the journey ahead. He grabbed supplies for the trip and medicinal herbs should Robyn need healing once he found her. He even grabbed her coat and slipped it into the saddle bags , she would like to have it back he knew. Grey Win whined anxiously, wanting to go and pick up her scent. Robb even more so as he slipped spare knives into one of the bags. He grabbed a hand axe and a nasty looking maul as well as his sword. He was so busy preparing for the journey he didn't even notice Casey walk up on him.

Casey sat against a tree. His entire face red, as if about to burst. He stared into oblivion.

Robyn...She...How?

He didn't want to believe it but he felt it. There was a moment, one single moment where the world seemed to tilt off it's axis.

It just seemed off.

Now he knew.

His Captain, the woman he fought with, battled beside, laughed with, loved...She was gone.

Casey nearly leveled a tree when Da'Karro gave him the news. The splinters still sat in his knuckles.

She insisted he'd stay back. She had no one, Not even Da'Karro to whom she fought with before, no one who had any idea how to fight with her, she was alone....and died that way.

All because he was weak...Iron, made him weak...He couldn't fight beside her because of that piss poor excuse.

He noticed Robb returned and saw something familiar.

He walked up to him and saw her coat.

That just made it all the more real.

He stared at it for a moment before looking up at him.

"What are you doing?" He asked him, clearly Robb was upset, if not just as upset as he was, so Casey wasn't trying to pick a fight.

---

Julia could only nod as she helped Da'Karro pick the flowers.

"Do you think she would like the red ones?" Julia asked wiping away her tears. "They'll be small, not very bright but if we get enough of them, then maybe that'll suffice?"

"Do you think she would like the red ones?" Julia asked Da'Karro as she wiped tears away from her face "They'll be small, not very bright but if we get enough of them, then maybe that'll suffice?"
"Crimson flowers for the Crimson Lady, Im sure Sheva would prefer I send her off in gunpowder and Khalidoran blood but yes, these shall suffice." He rose with a basket full of flowers, mostly crimson ones, but some yellow and blue for contrast,
"I understand it is not an item that is probably common in the north, but do you know of anywhere in the city I could procure incense? Im sorry for asking all this of you, I bet you probably simply want rest, I however have no one else who can assist me."

Roth nodded when King Jon asked for a private meeting. It would be a start to the peace talks. Peace could be created rather easily since both sides had relatively simple demands. Khalidor wanted food while Labrador wanted independence. If the two of them could sign a peace treaty that included a trade agreement then Khalidor would have no reason to stay in Labrador. "Yes, a meeting would be a good idea." He said in response. He turned to a vanguard that had been carrying some of his things and snapped at him. The man brought the prince his satchel. Inside were spices, incense, a few precious metals, sugar, and tobacco, trade items that the king could perhaps be interested in.

The young boy glanced around the room as he was ready to follow Jon. His own men were calm, but the northerners had angry looks on their faces. Roth was sure that if the King was someone else then his men would probably be slaughtered or Khali knows what else. He turned his attention back to Jon to let him know he was ready to leave. "Alright, lead the way."

Jon led Roth out of the main hall. Past the stone effigies of mermen that were the sigil for the now returned home House Manderly. Roth and Jon did not speak, it was clear both men were still quite unsure of one another but were swallowing their reservations for the good of their people. Jon made his way down a long corridor that came to a set of spiral staircases. Up the stairwell they went until the reached one of the highest floors in New Castle. It was here the private offices of the lords of the castle were and where Jon's hastily put together office of The King had been set up. It had previously served as the office of the Lord of White Harbor but as King he took precedence. Jon pushed open the thick oaken door and led Roth inside.

The room was large and well furnished. White Harbor was the richest city of The North and it showed in the decor of Lord Manderly's office. It was a tad ostentatious for Jon's liking but he was only borrowing the room. Rich tapestries hung from the walls depicting great sea battles and the coming of the Starks to save House Manderly's from the savagery of southron lords. They showed the founding of New Castle and the setting of the first stone as well as the vast wealth House Manderly amassed since rising to power. Stone sconces beautifully polished to a shine shed light on the room furnished with rich woods and expensive gold and silver accents. At the end of the room was a large wooden desk littered with scrolls, parchments and maps, Jon's desk.

The King in The North took his seat and gestured for Roth to sit in front of him. Once seated Jon sighed, he was exhausted. The fight had taken a lot out of him and now peace talks was the furthest thing he wanted. He wanted sleep, he wanted Amelia, he'd have to settle with foreign negotiations. He poured himself a glass of cold water, not wanting wine at the moment and poured one for Roth as well. After handing it to the younger man Jon leaned back in his seat.

"So..."

Jon said, his voice husky with weariness.

"We have us two armies from two countries that seem to want nothing more than to obliterate the other right now. I'm sure my men would rather me not speak to you instead just have your head and be done with it. They don't see what I see, what you obviously see. If either of our peoples are to prosper after this damn fool war we need to work together. Peace, is the right course, not war. So if we are to have peace there must be terms. Terms we can both agree to. I'll start.

Jon paused to sip his water. His throat was still raw and dry from the battle, the cool water felt like a blessing. He set his cup down and leaned forward.

"Firstly, all Khalidorian and Khalidorian allied forces will obviously have to withdraw from The North and it's allies territory, especially Valyrian. The queen of Valyrian and I are due to be married, I can't very well have you murdering my wife's people. Secondly is the matter of rebuilding. I'd ask aid, both man power and gold to put back what was destroyed by the fighting. Thirdly, and most importantly, is the matter of justice. This, as I see it, needs to be done in two ways. One, reparations for the pain and suffering your army put my people through. Two, your father needs to answer for the crimes of murdering my family and starting this whole damn mess to begin with."




Robb set his jaw in determination but did not turn around. He did not face Will, his mind and focus was on one thing, finding Robyn Sheva.

"I'm not going to just sit here. The battles done, they don't need me. She does. I'm going to find her and bring her back."

Robb's voice was full of absolute, resolve and utter belief. He knew she wasn't dead, he refused to admit otherwise. Her body, the body he'd found. It couldn't been her, it just couldn't have. It felt wrong. If that had been her he'd have known it. It wasn't which meant she was lost and needed him, he would find her. Her Wolf Lord would catch her scent shortly and bring her home.

He could feel the man's eyes on him, staring at him like he was mad, speaking nonsense. Robb turned slowly, his eyes still wet with fresh tears but a hard and cold resolve lingered there.

"She's alive, I know it."

"I'm not going to just sit here. The battles done, they don't need me. She does. I'm going to find her and bring her back."
Casey sighed and shook his head.
"Mate..." He said as Robb continued prepare for the ride.

"She's alive, I know it."

"She's....Her body burned, Da'Karro says you were the one to find her...I don't want to believe it either but..." He stopped not wanting to say the words, they were to painful to repeat, as if it where to choke him as they rose from his throat.

"She wouldn't want you running yourself ragged looking for nothing, mate. She'd prefer you be here with your sister...and Miss Clara...when they find out..." He said grimly, his voice shaking some, as his blue eyes glossed. He was truely concerned for him, he's only tire himself out and cause himself further grief when he didn't find her.

Not only that, it'll keep the poor girls to whom look up to the fallen Captian just as much pain to see it.

It would all be too much.

---

Julia sniffed shaking her head. "I know what they are...but I wouldn't even know where to begin to find them. This was all Clara's area of expertise...I'm sorry...You must think I'm useless..." She said and started to cry. She wanted to go home now, she wanted to atleast see her sister, and just sleep it all away. She dropped her face in her hands and sobbed.

As Roth listened to Jon's terms he took some tobacco out of his satchel along with a pub pipe. He nodded at the first term as he lit his pipe with a match. The first term was more than reasonable, since it was the first step towards peace. He huffed the smoke at the second term. Reparations were always tricky. Usually the side paying tries to low ball the costs while the side paid tries to high ball it. The actual value is rarely ever really met, only either too low or too high, though he was sure they could come to some agreement. When the boy heard that the king wanted his father he blew a large ring of smoke Jon's way along with a serious face that had a blatant sense of apathy.

"The first and second term can easily be met. On one condition, however. You must sign a trade agreement with my father. The North and Khalidor will conduct free trade with one another. Also food products will never be taxed with tariffs in the North for export. Farmers will get a tax break as well. Embargoes on food products are strictly forbidden, except in times of famine. Should the North create an embargo, Khalidor will have the rights to enforce military intervention so that the North fulfills it's end of the agreement."

"Our trade agreements give our allies a lot of aid as well. In return for your cooperation we will pour resources into your country to add Khalidoran construction. Khalidor has about eighty thousand miles of stone roads, give or take a few thousand. We can build countless roads in you country as well as aqueducts and sewer systems. I would also like to purchase some land rights to build a series of canals to allow our nations to trade easier. Also, should the North ever face invasion by a foreign power, Khalidor will defend it to the best of her abilities and our two nations will fight in a joint effort to fight off the invaders."

Roth paused for a bit before taking another deep breath of smoke from his pipe. "The third term is tricky. After your father embargoed us and the Great Famine swept death across the land, my father rose to power, saving Khalidor. My people love him and many in the west see him as a living god. Even though he assures them that he's just human." He smiled at the last part. His father could be humble at times, especially when he was home. "If I were to become the new Godking and hand my father over for foreign justice, then my people would never follow me. Plus there's the fact that he's my father. Would you have killed your own father if it had appeased your enemy?"

The prince took a sip of water before he continued. "First comes the treaty and then the reparations. Personal justice can be discussed later when you meet with my father. Since I have the complete control of the forces in the North, the decisions that I make are all perfectly legal."

Robb's fist collided with Will's jaw with enough force to floor the half blooded fae. Casey fell to the snow covered dirt and looked up as Robb stood over him, fury snarling in his eyes.

"She is alive. She is."

Robb growled, his fists clenched. He loomed over Will wanting to pummel his face in. The only thing saving him was the fact that Robyn was still out there and needed his help. He would not abide the thought, hearing the utterance of the words that she was dead, that she was lost to him. Even if her life had left her body Robb would have descended to hell itself to bring her back. He would no abandon her, in this life or the next. He knew she lived, he could feel it, he could feel her. She was out there somewhere and he was going to find her. Woe to those who think to stand in his way.



"Have you lost faith in her? In Robyn?... Well I haven't. I never will. I know she is alive. I can't explain it but I know it. I will find her and I will bring her back."

Robb growled under his breath one last time as Grey Wind snarled a few steps away. Robb turned and climbed in the saddle before casting Will one last baleful glare.

"Stay. Mourn with the women if you wish. I love her and I'm going to save her."

With that Robb Stark, The Wild Wolf, The Wolf Lord rode off into the cold and the snow looking for Captain Robyn Sheva, the Crimson Lady, his lady.




Jon nodded slowly. He couldn't disagree with anything Roth had said. Jon had spent so long hating Wanhope it was difficult for him to see him as anything other than a butcher, the killer of his family. Roth's question hung in the air and Jon found himself unable to answer it as expected. Were the roles reversed Jon couldn't hand over his father to Khalidor anymore than he could expect Roth to do the same. Yet justice needed to be done. Jon was an orphan now and the man responsible needed to pay for his crimes. How was yet uncertain but Jon would not settle with anything less than a life sentence.

"You make a good point Roth. All good points. My mother..."

Jon paused, the memory of the last time he'd seen her flashed in his mind. She was covered in blood, naked and beaten to a pulp. Jon clenched his eyes shut and chased the image off in an instant before continuing.

"She was against the embargo. A great many Northern Lords were. My father, he felt it he could not trade with a country that engaged in slavery in good conscience. Slavery, the theft of freedom, you'll find no friend to that practice here. Can I ask you, in all honesty, do you agree with it? The shackling of men women and children? Selling them like cattle?"

Jon's eyes searched Roth's, looking for a hint of the man he was or more the man Jon hoped he was.

Casey was caught off guard by the blow and it landed him hard on the snow. He looked up at him, as Robb stood over him. Casey's eyes wide with surprise as he went on.

How he wished it were true. How he wished Robyn was alive and she would saunter over, with some smart remark. But she wouldn't. He feel the emptiness in the world, she wasn't there anymore.

Maybe it was the Fae part of him that made him accept it so wholly, and it was merely that Robb was human and that was what force him to believe.

Then he said it.

"...I love her and I am going to save her..." He said and Casey was stunned, so much so that he watched him ride off.

He loved her?

Casey pulled himself to his feet. Did Robb love her more then he did? Was his love for her strong enough to deny her apparent death, when Casey's wasn't?

He ran his hand over his face and sighed, and went to find Da'Karro.

---

In Castle Black, Clara and Sansa sat sewing a pair of trousers for Arya, it was wide enough that it would only look like a dress. Clara knew Ayra would love it.
Bran and Rickon play with their wolves.

It was then Tenanye approached them, smiling. "Hello there, what's this then?"

Clara smiled. "We're making clothes. Would you like to join us?" Clara asked. Tenanye smiled. "Did you know that Spider Fae are natural weavers?" Tenanye asked as she sat beside them. She closed her hands and pulled them apart, thin strains of thread connecting between her fingers. She began looming them with her fingernails as the girls watched in amazment. Tenanye's fingers moved fast yet still with extreme grace, like a panist, and soon a silken scarf had formed. She wrapped it around the two girls who giggled in response.

"Where do it come from?" Clara asked and Tenanye laughed. "That my dearest, is a Fae Secret." She said with a wink. Clara giggled.

"I wish we were that fast, We're making trousers special for Arya, it looks like a dress." She said and Tenanye rose her brow, impressed. "Clever, May I?" She said holding out her arms. Clara handed her the trousers. "The stitching is impressive." She said. Clara smiled and hugged Sansa. "That's Sansa's doing."

"You are very skilled, most fae like. I am impressed."
Clara smiled at her cousin but her eyes went wide. "Oh, Queen Tenanye, Perhaps you can make something for the Captain."
Tenanye cocked her head.

"I'm sorry?"

"The Captain, you two weren't getting along because Mr. Casey. You seemed so upset, and so was she. Not just angry but sad. So maybe, if you made her something, a peace offering, then maybe you two can be friends?" Clara asked. Tenanye smiled. "You know, I think that's like a brilliant idea."

"Make sure it's red!" Clara laughed. Tenanye grinned. "Very well, Boys" She called and then came over. "Do you mind so terribly to find us some berries, red ones."

The boys looked a little confused but happy for the challenge. They ran off with their wolves in toe as the girls got back to working on their sewing.

Clara looked up at the sky. She wondered what Da'Karro was doing at this moment. She missed him. She hoped he'd come home soon, she hoped they all would.

Roth frowned at the thought of human bondage. He grew up in the capitol district where it was seen as a religious honor to be a slave under the state. There, slaves were treated more as citizens without pay. They were given descent housing, food from the state, and were given set hours to work. On the way to Lodricar his father had them stop in the city of Chains. There the slaves were forced into terrible labor all through the day and forced to live in poor conditions. He hated slavery since then.

"Human bondage is appalling. In fact most people in Khalidor despise forced slavery. There are two types of slaves though. There are the ones you have seen, chained slaves, that are controlled by the House of Melville." Roth said, pausing for a bit. Jon probably didn't know anything about Khalidoran politics or it's geography. Perhaps a comparison would work. "The Melville are to the Ursuuls as the Boltons are to the Starks. You've already seen how they treat their slaves. In the Capitol District, the slaves are called Capitol Slaves. Capitol Slaves consider it their religious duty to serve the state. The only way to free them is through death. In fact when a hundred thousand Chained Slaves rebelled during the crusade, it was armed Capitol Slaves who took up arms that saved the country from the rebellion."

"My grandfather passed laws concerning the process of freeing slaves while in turn my father passed laws protecting children from hard slavery. Under his laws Khalidoran born child slaves cannot work hard labor and when they reach the age of twenty they must be freed with pay. Furthermore he made sex slavery illegal. Of coarse these laws only effect Khalidoran born slaves of at least the third generation, thus captured slaves are still unprotected."

"During my reign I'm going to end it. All of it. No more slaves, no more indentured servants, no more. Of coarse I'll have to create jobs and homes before the transition.......then there's the problem of dealing with the Melville. I'd say it would take at least ten years before it could finally be outlawed." Roth hated the Melville for more reasons than just slavery. They tried to kill his father, not through conventional means, but with disease. They deserved punishment. So much so that not even the darkest level of the Void could make due.

"I know what they are...but I wouldn't even know where to begin to find them. This was all Clara's area of expertise...I'm sorry...You must think I'm useless..." Julia sniffed, beginning to cry again.
"I do not blame you lady Julia. I knew nothing of the places I was kept prisoner." He replied, unsure of how to comfort someone other than Scarlet. What was appropriate? What was not? "When I was freed, I was just as lost and a pup without its mother. You have been held captive in a town you knew little of to begin with. I am not surprised you know not how to find what I seek."
He turned back towards the camp, it was getting dark and there was much to prepare, he hoped Jon or even Robb would be around to assist him in his search. "We should return, the hour grows late, and these lands grow colder under the stars." He turned back to Julia, "Come Lady Julia, tonight, I must say goodbye to a good friend, I need time to prepare."

A few days had passed as the negotiations began, and the White Harbor was offically back in the hands of the North.

Jon had sent for the others, with Lord Umber leading them.

Clara had been sitting on her horse, a smile in her eyes that lingered as her excitement grew with every mile.

She couldn't wait to see everyone, but more specifically she missed Da'Karro.

she tried to distract herself with conversate with Lord Umber but he seemed distracted himself, as if he didn't want to speak to her. He said that Jon had wanted to speak to her when they arrived though he probably wanted to see Amelia first.

Soon she was back home, New Castle, it was in shambles but still standing.

She dismounted her horse and walked up the large stairs, to her old home.

It was strange, seeing it again, it felt like ages, so much had happened. The woman she thought her captor had become her friend, her family.

Excitement overwhelmed her as she inside and immediately spotted him.

Her smile widened, and she squealed with delight.

"Da'Karro!" She squealed out and ran to him, nearly jumping into his arms and greeting him with a kiss, taking him in with all her senses.
Gods, she missed him.

If Jon Stark thought the preparation for the retaking of White Harbor had been time consuming the work load he now faced was unfathomable. He had been deep in council with his advisers, generals, his foreign allies and Roth. The young man had proven invaluable in the strategic planning of taking on his fathers loyalist forces. Roth sought to minimize bloodshed where ever he could, these were his people they were fighting after all but he was wise enough to see that there would be more fighting before The North was fully liberated and his father was captured. Jon did not envy Roth, the concept of having to decide what punishment to dole out to ones own father was not something to be taken lightly and Jon did not push Roth on the subject. They both rarely liked to speak of Wanhope. Roth and Jon both knew where the other stood. Jon wanted him dead and Roth, he was still his father.

So they busied themselves with less stressful avenues of the war effort. Supply lines, reinforcing of captured cities, refugee camps, triage set up and more. Anything to keep them from discussing what to do with Wanhope when the war was done. Jon now sat in his office, pouring over maps and scrolls. Northerners had flooded into the city once the dire wolf banner had been raised. Those who sought to flee the tortures of Khalidorian rule rushed back to the safety of Stark rule. Once the city was full there was more than enough new duties for Jon to fret over. Reinstating the city watch and swelling the ranks with his own men were the start. The city needed order, especially with Roth and what forces he still had with him in the city. The Northerners did not want them there and it was everything Jon could do to keep them from butchering Roth's men every time they stepped out into the street. Jon had allowed Roth and his personal guard to remain in New Castle as his guests as a precaution from reprisals.

Then there was the issue of Robb. From what he'd heard he had been unable to handle Robyn's death and rode off after the battle, believing she had been kidnapped. Da'Karro had assured him he'd seen her charred body. She was truly gone but grief had a way of blinding men. He had sent men after Robb, hoping to bring him back but they'd never found him. He prayed to the old gods that he was alright and would return soon.

For the first day in a long while he now was excited for news. He awaited impatiently as he tried to keep his mind on his work knowing at any second Podrick would run in alerting him that the convoy had entered the city. He had sent for the remnants of his house from Castle Black, leaving only a skeleton force to maintain the keep. His aunt, cousins and betrothed should be arriving any moment now. He longed to see her again, to touch her silver hair, to gaze into her emerald eyes and to kiss her soft lips. His dragon queen, his fire, Amelia Targaryen was close.

There was a soft but urgent knock on the door and Jon nearly leapt to his feet.

"Your, Grace?"

"Yes?"

Jon asked the young squire, trying to appear as calm as possible.

"They're here."



The snow had begun to fall softly as the hulking dire wolf pawed through the forest. His keen nose sniffed the frigid air for the scent of his quarry. With a low snarl he alerted his fellow hunter that they were on the right track. Robb appeared beside grey wind and knelt in the snow, his gloved hand brushing aside from fresh snow fall over where Grey Wind had been sniffing earlier. There was dried blood, long since frozen in the snow. She had been through hear. Judging by the dark color of the frozen blood he was not but a day or so behind her. He picked up a bit of the bloody snow and rubbed it between his fingers, the warmth of his hand melted the snow and the blood was sticky on his leather gloves. She was alive, and he would find her. He wasn't far now.

Robb knew the area well, he'd hunted these woods many times. There were a few hunting cabins and lodges in the immediate area and even a small inn just off a peddlers trail but Robb had already begun to piece together who took her and where she was. He needed to be certain, he needed to know. He could not afford to guess wrong and rush off. Should he be wrong it could mean her death, he didn't know how much longer she had but he'd rather choose right the first time then race to every potential lead with certainty. If he was right however, his instincts proved accurate he would not stop until every member of the offenders house was dead, every last one.

Casey stood outside the keep, watching the snow fall gently to the ground. He couldn't even feel the cold. It was bizzare, he felt completely numb.

How many days has it been?

Two...Three days since Robyn...

He turned his head as his heart ached.

His mind was full of memories of her. Everything reminded him of her. How she'd laugh, how she never fully smiled, it was always a smirk, cat like and dangerous. The way she'd arch her brow when she was intrigued, how she moved when she fought, how the sea air would cling to her hair and despite that she'd smelled sweet.

Gone. How could she be gone?

Robyn never believed she'd lived passed twenty five, she always said it, but he was convinced she'd out live everyone on the ship.

Casey ran his hand down his face just as a presence appeared from behind him.

"William?" called the voice.

He turned to see Queen Tenanye before him. "Robyn's gone..." He said, his voice was dry and lack of emotion.

Tenanye's hand rose to her mouth.

"Oh Will...I am so sorry." She said and sat beside him, she gingerly reached for him but he recoiled.

"Don't..."

"Will..." She urged and pulled him to her anyway, just started blankly into nothing.


"I've always admired her...I did..."

"You tried to kill her."

"No, it is why I kept her alive. That day... I could have upped the toxicity in my strike but I didn't...I admired her strength, her conviction. Never had I seen such a thing." She said and Casey closed his eyes. "I couldn't go with her." He said after a moment.
"The iron...it was too strong, she ordered me to stay back....she...di...she was alone in the end." He said and then finally, tears came. They were silent, a secret in the moon and the stars. Casey finally wept for her.

Tenanye just cradled him gently and thought to the little girl inside. Clearly she hadn't gotten word yet but she knew it wouldn't be too long now.

She placed a kiss to her progeny's head and held him to her chest as he wept for the woman he loved.

Robyns funeral had been a quiet affair, with only the few people who personally knew her attending. Jon had been there, to see off his ally and the woman who had kept his beloved cousin safe. Will had been present, and emotional, tears freely flowing down his face as Da'Karro gave sermon. Even Tenanye had appeared to pay her respects, along with Julia who attended for the the same reason Jon did. Robb was nowhere to be seen, he had disappeared that morning, his grief driving him on a mad quest to find Robyn, whom he was convinced had survived. There was little of Robyns body remaining after the fire, Da'Karro gathered what was left and placed it under her coat, which now sat atop a funeral pyre, surrounded by the flowers he and Julia had picked that evening. He had also gathered up Robyns weapons and placed them with her coat, she would want them he decided when she was by Ishka's side.
"There are no words I can say to describe the magnitude of Robyns existence. She was a woman of fierce passions and terrible furies, and there was not a person she met who was not profoundly altered by her intensity. Though I knew her only a short while, she was one of the few people who I would truly call my friend. And her indomitable personality and fierce will, will I am sure be remembered for years to come. Goodbye Captain Robin Sheva, Crimson Lady of the Harbinger, Guardian of Ishka and my dear friend, you will be sorely missed, and I hope to see you again one day."
He raised a flaming brazier and began chanting in something in Jeddian, ceremonially bringing it to the pyre and lighting it. The flames quickly rose and consumed the pyre, Da'Karro circling the pyre, holding incense as he walked, chanting all the while the fire blazed. Most people left after the fire had burned out. Da'Karro remained till even the coals were cold, collecting the remaining ash and depositing it into an urn.
He would wait till the others arrived to complete the funeral, he knew Scarlet would want to be present.

That was three days prior, and Today was the day that Clara and the others were to arrive at Whiteharbor. Da'Karro knew not how to break the news to Scarlet, he had never been in this situation before, having to console people, it was not his natural forte. He was going to release Robyns ashes after they arrived, and he thought Will should be the one to do it. He had tracked him down to a place just outside the keep, it was snowing and Da'Karro had finally relented and borrowed a fur coat to keep the worst of the cold at bay. He rounded a corner and saw Will with Tenanye, he held him against her breast as he appeared to sob into her. If Tenanye was here then that meant Scarlet must have arrived while Da'Karro searched for Will. He hoped no one had told her of Robyns death, he should be the one to do it.
"Will?" Da'Karro said softly, approuching the pair, "Now that the others have arrived, I thought could would release... We would let Robyn go back, back to the ocean in the morning." He passed the urn to the distraught first mate, "I thought you should be the one to do it." Before turning and walking back to the castle, to tell his love that her friend was dead.

Once inside the castle it didn't take long for her to find him.
"Da'Karro!" she squealed as she leapt into his arms, her lips connecting with his in a passionate kiss and despite himself he kissed her back, not realising how much he had missed her presence. It was as if a great storm inside him had been calmed, and he felt at peace again for what seemed like the first time since leaving her at Castle Black a week prior. A week in which so much had happened. He broke away from the kiss and set her down, trying to figure out how to tell her, all the ways he had thought of flying out the window now he was actually in front of her, "My love I-" He said, his voice catching and he tried to clear it before continuing, "In the battle there was... um... Robyn, she..." He looked at her, a knot developing in his throat for the first time since her death. He had preoccupied his mind with anger and rage, with preparation and monastical duties, but now as he stood before Scarlet, all the grief he had kept inside, the sorrow and trauma brought on by Robyns death, let itself out in a tide.
"She fell my love. Robyn is dead."

Clara smiled up at Da'Karro after he set her down. Happiness overwhelming her at seeing his face again. It seemed so long, she couldn't believe it.
Her smile faded some as she took in his expression. "My love I-" He started but his words seemed to catch. Clara cocked her head some, confused and a little worried.

"In the battle, there was...um...Robyn, she..." He started again and Clara brow creased to fear. It was the same as with Jon.

The sentry, Jacobi, he stammered like this, when he told her that Jon had...

Clara shook her head as Da'Karro went on.

"No...no no no..." She whispered, knowing what was coming next. Tears already began in her amber eyes "She fell my love. Robyn is dead."

"No!" She screamed, snatching away from him.

"No, she's not dead! She can't be so don't say that!" She screamed, and it was then that Mr. Casey and Tenanye entered the room as well.

Her eyes locked with Casey's. His eyes were red, and swollen, the blue was glossy with tears.

Clara's chest grew heavy and she choked out a gasp.

It was like walking up the stairs in the dark, your foot falling in a moment of dark surprise to find you've climbed all the stairs.

She turned and ran, she had to find Jon, she had to.

She went from room to room, to find him, it couldn't be true, he'd tell her it wasn't true.

He was alive, someone told her he fell, and he was here, so...

None of it made sense in her head but her body reacted anyway.

She just watched herself run frantically around the keep until she found Jon in her father's study with Amelia.

"Pup..." she peeped, "Tell me it isn't true...that this is a mistake...The Captian isn't--" She could barely stand. "Please, Pup..." She whimpered.

The Dread Fort, the ancient seat of House Bolton. There was a time when House Bolton was the bane of The North, brutal, savage, violent killers who enjoyed blood and torture. They once had the greatest power base in the country beside the Starks of Winterfell. There were tales of the Bolton's cruelty. Stories, whispered in hushed tones about the torment they dealt to those they captured. Such horrors they inflicted on the poor souls who fell into their clutches it is said they would break your mind and leaving nothing more than a drooling thrall, and this is if they were feeling merciful. If they were not they flay you living and leave your body for the crows, only after they made your skin into a cloak. Their reign of chaos only came to an end when the Starks led their host against them and defeated them. The Boltons were given a simple choice, bend the knee or face the ruin of their house and name. They wisely surrendered but Bolton's have long memories and were always seen as fair weather friends at best since then.

Robb now stood, staring at the ancient Dread Fort with murder in his heart. Grey Wind had tracked Robyns scent here. She was here, he knew it. He could almost feel the closeness to her. There was a flicker, a brief moment in his resolve where he thought it was his own madness driving him, making feel and believe falsehoods. Then he'd look to his heart and knew he was right in his course. She lived, he would save her or die in the process. Either way, they would be together again.

Robb made his way down through the tree line towards the Dread Fort, he scouted the sentries first, the walls were lightly manned. The arrogant bastards thought themselves safe behind their high walls. No where was safe from the vengeance of The Wild Wolf. Robb moved like a beast in the night, little more than a shadow. He reached the walls quickly and began his ascent, he would scale the walls and bleed anyone he encountered. He wasn't far from her now, every second brought her nearer.



"Pup..."

She peeped,

"Tell me it isn't true...that this is a mistake...The Captian isn't--"

She could barely stand.

"Please, Pup..."

She whimpered. The joy left Jon's eyes. He had been so elated to see Amelia again, to hold her in his arms, to hear her voice and taste her kiss. The darkness of war, of loss had faded from the light of her fire. He could breathe again and he breathed deep. Then Clara walked in, tears in her eyes with weak knees. She'd heard of the Captains death, damn whoever told her. He had wanted to be the one, he had needed to be the one. It would have been better, easier coming from him. He knew how to talk to her better than anyone, he could have broke the news and helped her through the grief yet this. Clara seemed ready to faint.

"Clara..."

Jon's voice was soft and husky, as it so often was when emotion took him. He pulled away from Amelia as she put a hand to her mouth in shock. She had not been prepared for this either. Robyn Sheva was one of the strongest women she had ever met, to learn of her death was difficult to believe.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

Jon said as he reached out to Clara and took her hands in his, ready to support her should she fall. Yet like when he told of of Winterfell he knew Clara was not the child she once was, she was a woman grown and deserved the truth, all of the truth.

"She fell in the battle. She had snuck into the city with a strike force to open the gates for Robb's vanguard. By the time he breached the gates... she was already dead. I am so sorry Clara. She was special to us all but I know how much she meant to you."

"Clara..."

The softness of Jon's voice confirmed it. Clara trembled as tears trickled down her face.

Not the Captain, it wasn't right, she...she couldn't be gone.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," He said and reached out to her, taking her hands. Clara stumbled into his arms, her legs could no longer bare the weight of her heavy heart. She buried her face into his chest and cried.

"She fell in the battle. She had snuck into the city with a strike force to open the gates for Robb's vanguard. By the time he breached the gates...she was already dead. I am so sorry, Clara. She was special to us all but I know how much she meant to you."

Special wasn't nearly strong enough a word to describe how much Robyn meant to her.
She was the mother, the sister Clara always wanted, someone who Clara could look up to with pride. Sure, she wasn't perfect, but it was those imperfections that Clara loved.

She came barreling into her life like a torrential storm, and was now gone just a quick.

It didn't seem real...it didn't feel real. She held on to Jon, tight. as if he too would disappear again.

---

Deep in the heart of Dread Fort, the crack of a whip echoed off the walls and fresh blood filled the air.

"This is useless..." said the whip man as he watched as a female body hung from a large metal hook, black hair hanging down, dripping in blood, her arms strung up above her head as blood rolled down her body with fresh wounds.

"She won't break..."

"She will eventually." said a weasel-faced man that sat on the floor, a leg propped up, his arm resting on a knee.

"Come now, Ramsey, We've been at this for three days...most men wouldn't have lasted three minutes...I mean hell, we've done everything, we've even cut the tendons in her wrists and ankles...she can't even walk or pick up a sword, let's just kill her and get it over with..." said the whip man, sweat shining his face. The weasel-faced man called Ramsey stood up and walked over to the woman, he took her face into his hand and lifted her chin, to his surprise he was met with a spray of blood.

He huffed. "You'll pay for that."

The woman said nothing, only a grinned a dark sneer, white teeth behind a blood, sweat and covered smile.

"Do your worst..."

"As you wish." He said and dropped her chin, her head falling limp.

"Go get the healer, heal her but just enough to keep her alive, I want her awake when we take her skin."

He said and turned back to her.

"Our Blades are sharp... remember that.

In that moment, there was commotion coming from upstairs. "Someone's breached the wall. We're under attack!" called a soldier.

Ramsey sighed. "
Fine the healer...Now!" He ordered and made his way toward the armory, he walked passed a sentry. "Make sure no one touches her until I return..."

He said and slammed the larger metal door closed, leaving the woman hanging inside.

"No! Please NO!"

The guard screamed as Robb sword plunged into his gut. Blood spewed from the mans mouth as Robb Stark pushed the blade in to the hilt before ripping it out and kicking him off the side of the wall. He turned and blocked an oncoming sword strike, quickly dispatching the man by opening his belly. Robb pushed past the dying man to engage two more advancing Bolton guardsmen. One hefting a large double sided axe and the other a mace. Robb growled and surged forward, dipping beneath the axe mans swing and reaching for the mace wielding guard. His hand gripped the shaft of the weapon just as Robb shoved his sword between the mans ribs. He spun, now holding the dying guards mace in his left hand and smashed the weapon into the axe mans knee. The joint imploded from impact, the knee bones shattering effortlessly. The guard screamed and fell, clutching his ruined knee. Robb loomed over him and brought the mace down, crushing his skull.

Robb tossed the gore covered mace aside and took a moment to catch his breath as he scouted his next move. The alarm had gone off and the bells were ringing. He could hear men marshaling to deal with the intruder. More men than even he could handle but he had no intention on killing every Bolton man tonight, just the ones between him and Robyn. He knew she'd be in the belly of the fort, he just needed to find the fastest route there from the exterior wall. He spotted a ladder leading up from the interior courtyard to the wall and not far from that were a few bales of hay, if he aimed it right he could soften his landing and avoid running around the whole damn wall looking for a way down.

"You're dead Stark bastard!"

Robb turned to see a guard holding a crossbow, aimed at his heart. Before he could pull the trigger a massive dark shape lunged out of the shadow and tore into his flesh. Blood colored the dark stone of the Dread Fort as Grey Wind ripped into the man's flesh. Robb turned and ran for the ladder, knowing Grey Wind would follow on his own. He sheathed his sword and dove for it, grabbing the wooden ladder and holding on as it tipped back and fell through the open air. It was a precarious drop but Robb was hoping he'd land where he'd intended. Fortunately instead of shattering his body on hard stone he landed on soft hay. Robb picked himself up and brushed himself off before pushing deeper into the fort.

Sword in hand he dispatched a dozen more men before reaching the lower levels. Now moving only by torchlight on the walls Robb's keen gaze watched for movement in the dim light. Anyone he saw was quickly cut down, he and Grey Wind were quickly leaving a sizable trail. Robb Stark moved down into the bowels of the Dread Fort, the dungeons were not far.

Robb turned the corner to find the stairwell leading to the lowest level of the fort as well as two dozen men waiting with swords in hand. The man at their head was a bald, bearded man the size of Lord Umber.

"Surrender."

He growled. Robb flashed a wicked, toothy grin as he strode forward menacingly.

"Funny... I was about to suggest something similar."

Their screams could be heard throughout the Dread Fort as well as the rage filled, hungry howl of Grey Wind as he feasted on the men's flesh. The Wild Wolf had come bringing dread to the denizens of the Dread Fort.

"C'mon, get up." Robyn's eyes blinked open, wincing at the bright sunlight. "Sleeping the day away, you are." She opened her eyes to see a small girl no older then fifteen standing over her, smiling with a chipped tooth. Her skin was copper, her black hair thick and tied back in a long braid, wearing a black coat, several sizes too large and a beautiful red dress underneath. They seemed so out of place....yet familiar.

Robyn frowned. "I know you." she hissed. "Of course you do silly, C'mon, up up." the girl cried and grabbed Robyn's arm.

Robyn got to her feet, realizing she was in a large grassy green field, Robyn herself dressed in a white dress that flow down to her barefeet.

"Come, It's time to go."

"Go where?" Robyn asked.

"Home, of course."

Robyn frowned. "Home?"

It was in that instant, the world around them changed, warped into someplace dark and desolate.

The small girl grabbed her arm, trembling.

"What? What's happening?" She said and as soon as she turned to look to see the girl now chained to a wall, her arms up above her head.

"No..."

"He's coming..." the girl whimpered.

In that moment, Robyn stood before a man, whips and chains in his hand. He walked through her, giving her chills in the process as he stood before the girl.

"No! Let her be!" Robyn barked, but to no avail. Robyn watched as he began on the girl, helpless to do nothing but watch and then he was gone. He vanished.

Robyn kneal before the girl, bleeding and unconscious.

"Fight it! Fight!" she shouted at the girl.

"Robyn, you have to fight!"
She screamed and the room changed again. She stood, small red hands reached up from the nothingness undee her feet, it grabbed the hem of her white dress and the color spread up until not a spot of white was left, then it burst, red butterflies floated about as she stood, dressed in her battle regalia, her long coat bellowing out behind her, crimson red corset tied tight, her cutlass at her side.

Robyn gripped the hilt, just as a face appeared from the shadows, at first, it was the face of the nobleman, he grinned at her, and Robyn narrowed her eyes, but then his grinned became too wide, his skin paled and his eyes disappeared.

"You are coming with me, Robyn Sheva..." The skulled man said, his voice dark and distorted as a shadowed hand reached out for her.

She felt a hand on her shoulder, warm and strong. She turned to see Robb Stark, standing beside her. Her harbor...Her safe place... Her home, smiling at her with his wolfish grin.

She turned back to the reaper, pulled her cutlass and she surged forward.

"Not today."


Robyn's gasped out of her dream. Finding herself still in that room, she could hear screams echoing throughout the halls and before the cell door opened.

She steeled herself, unable to see from one eye, having been swollen shut...she hoped.

With her one good eye, she spied a man coming forward, slowly.

"Careful...I bite..." She warned, only to recieve a cheeky albeit half hearted remark.

Roth had been without sleep for nearly two days. While he worked with Jon to liberate the North, he had been constantly communicating with Fayvus back home and with various military leaders by magical means. This Great War had his father's forces tied to the North, giving Roth the perfect opportunity to take on his enemies at home. Fayvus had organized the slaves in the Capitol and they had taken the city with the exception of the citadel. News of his ambition of taking the throne had thrown the country into a state of chaos. Most of the leaders in the west, all of whom knew of his standing on social issues, had sided in his favor and multiple slave revolts had answered the call to arms. Only the Banks and the Melville stood against him. The High Council of Khaliras had yet to pick a side and was neutral.

He had bribed many of the generals across the fronts with various fortunes. Jorg, who faced high treason on account of his heinous war crimes, had been promised a pardon in exchange for marching on the Banks. Neph Dada had been bribed with the title of the new "Duke of Chains" for his assistance in routing his father out of power. Now Roth had common,noble, military, and foreign support for his claim to the throne.

Roth had taken a liking to taking walks through the castle during his free time. It was so peaceful with the exception of a few occasional glares. As he walked down the hall he heard Jon's voice. The rebel prince had just ordered neph to retake a northern town that served as a supply line out east and he needed to tell the king about it. So he turned the corner only to find him his a group of people and one very distressed girl. "Is this a bad time?" He asked aloud, wondering if he should leave them in privacy.

"Careful...I bite..." She warned. The first words she spoke after her time of imprisonment and torture, after her time in the dark of the Dread Fort. They did not break her, she weathered their storm, measured their worth and found them wanting. His Crimson Lady was indomitable and the realization brought that wolfish grin back to Robb Starks face. He stepped through the dark, dank cell over to where she hung. Strung up by chains her body seemed ruined, beaten horribly with countless cuts and bruises. He reached out a hand, soft as pups nudge and touched her cheek. She winced in pain, her whole body was racked with pain from her torment yet her spirit endured it all. He was stunned by the strength of this amazing woman.

Robb took his sword and in one clean swing broke the chains that bound her. She collapsed into his arms with a shout of pain as he wrapped her up in his embrace. He went to a knee, trying his best to comfort her. He could only begin to imagine the pain she was in. Her wrists were bleeding as were her both her ankles, the bastards had cut them to disable her. Grey Wind whimpered at Robyn's side, licking her wounds as he would lick a wounded pack mate.

"Oh.... How touching."

The voice was calm and casual, almost friendly if it wasn't so sardonic. Robb turned with a vicious snarl that warned of death. Ramsay Snow stood in the door way with knife in either hand, small things better for cutting food than a man but in the quick, deft hands of a Bolton, even a bastard Bolton, could be used with lethal efficiency. Robb knew well the tales of the blood thirsty, cruel bastard son of Lord Bolton and he knew Ramsay was a smart young man, not one to engage in a fight he would lose. That fact was no doubt why two large, burly Bolton men stood at either side of the youth.

"The Bastard of Bolton... This is your doing."

Robb spat with hatred dripping from his words. Robb could see the flicker of rage in Ramsay at the title. He hated the moniker almost as much as he hated actually being a bastard. If there was one thing in the world Ramsay Snow wanted beside inflicting torment on others it was to be the true born son of Roose Bolton.

"Robb Stark, it is a pleasure having you visit us here at the Dread Fort. I know I have been enjoying the company of your friend there tremendously. I'm certain you and I will have equal fun, of that I have no doubt."

He said wickedly with an almost mad smile. Robb gently set Robyn down he stood before her protectively, his eyes burrowing holes through Ramsay.

"I'm going to kill you, bastard."

Ramsay clicked his teeth at the word, Robb was bringing out his ire.

"Don't ignore my friends now, that's just rude."

Ramsay said, trying to remain his usual, wickedly jovial self as he gestured to the brutes standing on either side of him. Robb's predatory gaze never left Rasmay.

"I can beat two of your men."

Ramsay shrugged.

"Suit yourself."

With that six more men walked into the room, all large, well armed and armored killers. Ramsay own personal, hand picked and trained warriors. Robb growled under his breath as Grey Wind stood protectively over Robyn with a savage snarl, daring anyone to get too close to his wounded pack mate.



"Roth."



Jon said, his voice still husky with emotion as he gently beckoned to Amelia to help Clara to a seat. Amelia was quickly seeing Clara as a sister of sorts and lovingly wrapped her arms around her as she helped her to a nearby chair. While she knew her betrothed meant well she was not so sure how well Clara would take the arrival of Roth Ursuul right now. She just found out her friend and mentor had been killed by Khalidorian men and now a Khalidorian prince walked into her cousins office as if he was an old friend. Jon had only just told Amelia herself about their alliance and while she had reservations about it she trusted Jon and Roth's stance against slavery put him in good standing with Amelia herself.

"Let's talk outside, and give my cousin a moment. She'd only just heard of the passing of Robyn Sheva."

Jon said as he made his way over to his ally hoping to walk with him into the hall and allow Clara a moment's peace.