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Crowns, Empires and Swords

Our World

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a part of Crowns, Empires and Swords, by TvAddict13.

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TvAddict13 holds sovereignty over Our World, giving them the ability to make limited changes.

3,235 readers have been here.

Copyright: The creator of this roleplay has attributed some or all of its content to the following sources:

this role-play is a revive of crowns, empires & swords. http://www.roleplaygateway.com/roleplay/crowns-empires-swords

Setting

Default Location for Crowns, Empires & Swords. Revived
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Our World

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Our World is a part of Crowns, Empires and Swords.

27 Characters Here

Da'Karro Misantri [304] Death, torture, sex, its all a service to Ishka, in time you will serve her too, or I will serve her your blood.
Clara 'Scarlet' Stark [291] "I don't know where I belong anymore..."
Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger [250] "I will bathe in your Blood, or so it's been said."
Jon Stark [235] "The North Remembers..."
Amelia Targaryen [140] "I will do what Queens do. I will rule."
Queen Tenanye Ananse [95] "Beyond, beyond the mountain line, The grey-stone and the boulder, Beyond the growth of dark green pine, That crowns its western shoulder, There lies that fairy-land of mine, Unseen of a beholder."
Robb Stark [93] "This war is far from over."
Godking Wanhope [92] "Soon everything from the Greenland Sea to the Antarctic Ocean will belong to Khalidor."
Ajax Alexander [80] "Being a hero doesn't mean you're invincible; it means you're brave enough to stand up and do what's needed."
William 'Will' Casey [73] "She is the Captain, that is all I have to say."

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Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Roth Ursuul
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"Oh!"

Roth and Jon walked outside the door and into the hallway. The stark girl probably didn't want to see him of all people, especially since he was Wanhope's son. He was used to concealing his identity at this point. He had to do so for nearly two years in Galapagos and most referred him as "the Rat Prince" as reference towards his guild.

"I've sent my own forces to take a town in the east. Also the capitol has been taken. My father's forces will receive no more reinforcements or supplies so long as the revolution holds." Roth looked around a bit for more Starks. "I thought you had more family?" He asked Jon.

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Robyn braced herself for the worst, be it a strike or a grope, anything. What she did not expect was the soft, warm touch to her cheek, though she couldn't help but wince, her entire body ached, her jaw had been broken, reset and healed a few times yet the pain was still there.

Regardless, it was the best feeling she's ever felt.

Her harbor stood before her.

Somehow, some way he found her.

She strained to see him, but she saw him, covered in Bolton blood, a look in his eyes she received in that night in his tent.

She moved her face against his hand before he rose his sword and the sharp steel, sliced the chains and she dropped into his arms. Despite herself, she grimaced through clenched teeth, her body erupted in pain, it was enough to make her lose consciousness but she didn't. She focused on his face.

"Robb..." She breathed, it was all she could manage as he held her in his arms, despite the pain, he was warm, and safe.

If she were to die right here, in his arms, she'd welcome it.

She wouldn't though, his touch was enough to give her strength, just as in her dream, it was all she needed to keep fighting.

She then felt a stinging on her skin, and smirked weakly as Grey Wind, lapped at her wounds, as if that alone would heal her. She decided then she'd be nicer to the dire wolf now.

She looked back at Robb, watching his dark eyes, and wanted to reach up and touch his face but couldn't. Her arms would move but her hands, was completely useless.

"I--"

It was in that moment, Ramsay appeared, and a snarl erupted from Robb's throat. He'd been worried before of his temper, how he murdered Khalidorians for the deaths of his family. She couldn't see the darkness then but she could now, and she wanted it unleashed, if she could she'd give him all her darkness as well.

He set her down softly as more Boltons arrived, 8 not including Ramsay himself.

She'd seen Robb fight, this would be nothing without him angry, but with the rage that she could feel radiating from him, she knew it wouldn't be long now.

Grey Wind stood over her, protectively snarling at the Boltons as they entered.

She rolled herself to her side, thankfully only her hands and feet were dead, her elbows and knees were still operable. It was enough that she could move some.

It wasn't long before they attacked, Ramsay's men hacking and slashing as Robb to whoms blade flashed with the grace of a highborn soldier.

Ramsay and a one other, snuck around the initial onslaught and came toward her. She only smirked, as Grey Wind darted forward with a roar, his body spanned the size of a normal man as he leapt across the room, attacking the man who was with Ramsay, his large maw ripping flesh from bone. In the same moment, Ramsay snatched her by the hair, and dragged her back against the wall. She growled and reaching for him, but her hands were useless, all she could do was meekly bat at him,

"Dammit all..." She hissed to herself as he hefted her up, and brought his arm around her neck, using her as a shield.

"Coward..." She spat, as her feet slipped and slid, unable to keep herself aloft.

"Shut up." He spat back as he pressed himself against the wall. Robyn's pride wouldn't let her cry out for Robb, but she knew there was nothing she could do, not without being healed first.

Never since that day in the cellar, has she felt so useless...

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Clara rested her head on Amelia's lap, sobbing lightly as Jon left with the boy. Amelia cooed softly, stroking her curls trying to comfort her. Clara sat up slowly and looked at the door, they exited out of.

"Who was that?" Clara asked, recognizing the accent. "He was Khalidorian, wasn't he?" She said sharply. Amelia could only sigh and gently explain the situation.

Under normal circumstances, Clara would have left it alone, he was a boy after all, but the sting of Robyn's death was too new, she couldn't handle a Khalidorian being here...then Amelia said the wrong thing.

Who the boy actually was.

Clara's eyes went wide.

"What?" She said, her little voice darker then anyone could have expected, even Jon, would have been surprised.

Robyn...would have merely arched a brow in amusement.

Amelia quickly, went on about the good Roth was doing but Clara wasn't having it. Clara wasn't an easy one to upset, it took a great deal but most everyone knew when she was angry, she had a habit of throwing things...even Da'Karro had to dodge a dish or two.

She was keenly aware of the Casey's dagger at her hip, she stood up and ran out, Amelia soon after.

"Where's my sister?!" She shouted at the boy beside Jon. Her voice echoing off the empty halls.
"She was supposed to be given to you, what did you do with her?!" She said, with a growl in her voice as Amelia caught her as she surged forward, as if ready to run him through.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Roth Ursuul Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark
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Roth couldn't help but smile when Jon's cousin yelled at him. This was the famous Clara that he had heard about. The count's description of her seemed over exaggerated. Beautiful in the west maybe, but not in the Capitol, not in Khalidor. Her skin was far too dark and her figure showed a lack of muscle. Her ears were large and her breasts were an improper size. He could see why his father offered him Julia instead. She was within Khalidoran standards.

"Supposed to. That's the key phrase there. Supposed to. She had been given to the Count as a bride. He wasn't happy about that. Big incident happened. Now the study is stained in blood and semen. The servants tried to clean it out yet nothing works." Roth began to laugh at the last part. He of course was talking about how he had mutilated the count, but she didn't know that. All she wanted to hear was that he was a bad person and frankly he didn't give a damn. The only person he needed to work with right then were people with real political power, not a minor noble's daughter.

"If you want to know what happened after words....well then you will just have to ask her yourself."

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"Supposed to. That's the key phrase there. Supposed to. She had been given to the Count as a bride. He wasn't happy about that. Big incident happened. Now the study is stained in blood and semen. The servants tried to clean it out yet nothing works." Roth laughed and Clara's eyes wide. Amelia's grip slipped some in shock of the young boys words. It was a minor oversight but Clara seized it, and out of her grasp, her dagger freed and had every intention on carving off his wicked sneer.

Thankfully, Jon snatched her out of the mid run.

"I'll kill him!" She shrieked flailing around in his arms, clawing at Roth, shreiking manically.

"If you want to know what happened afterwards....well then you will just have to ask her yourself." He said and Clara's glared daggers at the boy, eying where he should meet her blade.

"Clara?"

Clara froze.

She turned her eyes manic and wide. She knew that voice.

"J-Ju..."

She turned, looked up at the balcony that overlooked the main hall where they stood.

There, looking down at her, with confusion and mild shock was her sister.

"Julia..." She breathed.

"What are you going on about, Baby sister?"

Clara forgot her rage and ran as fast as her feet could carry her up the stairs and threw herself into her sister's arms.

"You're alive, thank the gods, you're alive!" She cried, her eyes searching her sister's face as if she weren't real. Julia laughed. "You actually look happy to see me..."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Julia only smiled sheepishly.

"I don't care about all that Julia, I thought the worst, you're alive, that's all that matters." She said, hugging her and Julia hugged her back.

"We have alot to talk about..." She said and Julia laughed. "Yes, Like why you were yelling..."

"Him." Clara spat and Julia followed her gaze.

"My gods...Roth?! Is that you?!" She said and Clara released her. "You know him?"

"Know him? He saved my life, I was given to your husband...He found out, tortured him for it. I owe that boy my life." She said and Clara looked down at the boy. She set her jaw, she was still far from pleased with him but she was grateful for her rescusing her sister so she swallowed her pride and followed Julia back down to the main hall. Julia smiled at Roth and pulled him to a warm hug.
"I am so glad to see you." She said softly. Clara folded her arms. "All you had to say was that she was fine..." She said with a roll of her eyes. "You're an ass," She said, with her lips pursed. She expected some sort of glare from Jon so she didn't look at him, instead she looked at Roth once more, she wanted to atleast slap him once for what he said, true or not. The Captain would have...

"However, I am grateful for your protection of my sister," She said and gave him a honorable curtsy. "You have my thanks..." She said and she meant it though there was still bitterness in her voice. She then walked off, leaving all that knew her in shock.

Clara never cursed...clearly she was still very angry.

With a quick glance to Jon, Julia turned to Roth.

"How did you wind up here?" She asked him taking his hands, smiling brightly.

Setting

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Roth Ursuul Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark
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Roth found Clara's reaction to be hilarious. He knew that it was a poor subject to lead her on like that and that Jon would be sorely disappointed in him, but he just couldn't help it. It was worth it. The Targaryen girl probably didn't like it yet he didn't care about that either. He didn't like her. Not of her own fault but who she was, who she ruled over. The Valryians were so many, so big, and probably the only people that could go toe to toe with his. Perhaps it was the way he was raised, but Roth didn't like possible threats, even if they were friends.

"Captured by your cousin. Joined forces. Ect. You know how it works." He responded with a faint smile. "Plans have been set in motion and my country is fighting over who is on the thrown. I barely have majority support with the slaves on my side, but waiting for an answer from the Holy Land that'll change the odds. Ooh! I've got a five hundred ingot bounty on my head too so I must be doing something right. Here our combined forces outnumber my father's. Sooo...as soon as we take Winterfell and capture my father then the North will be free, I'll become Godking, and the war will be over." It all sounded so simple. The war would be over, in the North that was. The Revolution in Khalidor would still rage on. The thought of that alone put a damper to Roth's face

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"Captured by your cousin. Joined forces. Ect. You know how it works." He said and she smiled. "Plans have been set in motion and my country is fighting over who is on the throne. I barely have majority suport with the slaves on my side, but waiting for an answer from the Holy Land that'll change the odds. Ooh! I've got a five hundred ingot bounty on my head too so I must be doing something right. Here our combined forces outnumber my father's. Sooo...as soon as we take Winterfell and capture my father then then North will be free, I'll become Godking, and the war will be over." He said and Julia's brow rose up. "My Roth, that sounds like a lot..." She said. "Do you want to be Godking?" She asked, couldn't help wandering if he'd take a wife. He'd need one to continue his line and surely a marriage would have to come sometime in the future but still.

Clara probably hated him but she couldn't help feel for him. He saved her life, it was a shame he was so young.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Da'Karro Misantri Character Portrait: Roth Ursuul Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark
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"There's only been one Ursuul to ever live that hadn't become Godking and that was a poor life. Being born doesn't make us eligible for the thrown, we have to complete a mission to the state to prove ourselves. A rite of passage of sorts. I established the largest smuggling guild in the world that smuggled grain into Khalidor and my father had to calm various revolts during the Great Famine. So yes, I do wish to become Godking." He smiled at the thought of his coronation. That was worth the hardships. That and the reforms that would bring Khalidor into a new golden age.

"The Godking rules over the entire expanse of Khalidor , over tens of millions of people. Thousands of meisters carry out his every will. His word is law and many in the west actually revere the Ursuul name as a lineage of gods, hence the name. Even the clothing stands out from that of other kings. Silk robes laced with silver and embedded with diamonds. Gold jewelry with emeralds the size of a thumb. No expense is too much. My father even had a temple built north of Winterfell to signify the divine right to the North. A massive temple a square mile in size. The cheapest material used was fine marble. Hell the cost of building that temple in a week was more than building this castle. That's only the financial power of the Godking."

"You should see the Ursuul citadel. It's the highest building in Khalidor. The inner wall protecting it is made of pure iron, not stone, and the top of the citadel is covered with jewels. It's truly a sight to behold." Roth could go hours talking about that citadel alone. It was a remarkable architectural achievement and that was excluding the magical properties.

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"There's only been one Ursuul to ever live that hadn't become Godking and that was a poor life. Being born doesn't make us eligible for the throne, we have to complete a mission to the state to prove ourselves. A rite of passage of sorts. I established the largest smuggling guild in the wolrld that smuggled grain into Khalidor and my father had to calm various revolts during the Great Famine. So yes, I do wish to become Godking." he said with a smile. Julia smiled. He seemed excited.

"The Godking rules over the entire expanse of Khalidor, over tens of millions of people. Thousands of meisters carry out his every will. His word is law and many in the west actually revere the Ursuul name as a lineage of gods, hence the name. Even the clothing stands out from that of other kings. Silk robes laced with silver and embedded with diamonds. Gold jewelry with emeralds the sizr of a thumb. No expense is too much, My father even had a temple built north of Winterfell to signify the divine right to the North. A massive temple a square mile in size. The cheapest material used was fine marble. Hell the cost of the building that temple in a week was more than building this castle. That's only the financial power of the Godking."

Julia's eyes went wide. It was amazing that the city couldn't hardly feed itself was so rich?

She didn't care.

"You should see the Ursuul citadel. It's the highest building in Khalidor. The inner wall protecting it is made of pure iron, not stone, and the top of the citadel is covered with jewels. It's truly a sight to behold." He said and Julia smiled. " It sounds like it. Perhaps, when this is all over, You could take me there. I'd love to see it." She said with a dream like sigh in her voice, similar to when she saw Da'Karro for the first time. "I hope you become Godking, You'll make a just one, especially after all that you've done for me." She said with a touch to his face.

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Character Portrait: Godking Wanhope
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The battlefield was littered with dead wildlings as Wanhope's troops butchered the barbarian army. The first shock army, with Wanhope fighting in the front lines, had clashed with the wildling army. The two forces had met when the Godking was purging a Horn Foot tribe. They had over ten thousand infantry and out numbered the Khalidorans nearly ten to one. Wanhope formed the vanguard in a circle formation with spears out and swordsman between them in close knit with tower shields. Behind them were two hundred sharpshooters armed with the new arquebus guns that the slaves had rushed making. Finally in the middle were the meisters tossing fireballs. When the enemy swarmed so did death. Those who met the vanguard were cut down while those waiting to get up front were shot. The meisters sent a concentrated lobby of fireballs in all directions.

When a giant came up their commander shot a bolt of lightning from his fingertips at the creatures chest, killing it instantly. When the enemy wavered, the Khalidorans pushed backed with volley shots and magic. Wanhope cleaved his way through the enemy with his magic until he came to a group of strong warriors. Two with swords ran at him only for him to twist and slice ones belly while shooting the other with a matchlock pistol in his left hand. Dropping his pistol to grab the spear, he sprung with sword into a mans stomach. The spear pierced ones knee while he side stepped to cut a giants hamstring before slicing its neck. Unknowing to Wanhope that the man he had just crippled and was now retreating with his men was none other than the free king. Mance Rayder.

When the soldiers were done killing the wounded enemies numbers were counted. Khalidor had lost nearly two hundred and eighty vanguard, twenty marksmen, and zero meisters. The wildlings lost four thousand when in formation, another two to three thousand in retreat. Wanhope smiled to himself. He doubted any of theses savages knew how to fight, especially against his shock army. He knew then that the money put into reforming that army was money well spent.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Roth Ursuul Character Portrait: Clara 'Scarlet'  Stark
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Jon rubbed his brow with a sigh after Clara ran to her sister. Roth, despite all the differences between their two peoples, reminded Jon so of his brother Edrick. Roth had proven himself capable on the battlefield, skilled in negotiations and wise council but he was still a young man and like Edrick, could not deny a bit of fun. Poking his she wolf cousin was a good way to get bit, especially in the wolfs den, yet Roth did so anyway for no other reason than the thrill of it. Jon didn't like it as much as it amused him. Julia was right about one thing however, he would make a just king but that would be only once he learned a kings courtesy.

Jon listened as Roth went on about the richness of his country, their splendor of wealth and grandeur of their capitol. So different from The North who cared little for such things. Diamonds and emeralds and gold inlay did not feed families, it did not keep you warm in the winter, it did not keep the beasts away in the dark. Yet Roth was not of The North and he did not understand their way, their way was the old way. King Jon did notice the slightest softening of his mood when he had told his cousins of the ease in which they should be able to end the war here. Their combined forces with the forces of Jon's already sizable allies would make short work of Wanhope. Yet Roth still had to return home to a country divided. A country of nobles, and magic, and ancient families Jon knew nothing about. He knew Roth and that was enough, Roth didn't have to ask. The prideful youth probably wouldn't have but Jon would offer anyway when they had a moment, should he need it Jon would march the army of The North further North than they have ever gone and help Roth secure his throne.

"Your grace? A thousand pardons."

Jon turned to see his squire Podrick standing there, with a respectful bow.

"What is it Pod?"

Jon asked as his future queen slipped her arm through his as if she she would keep him beside her, not rushing off into another battle. Amelia and Jon hadn't had much time together since she'd arrived, he knew despite her strong front she had worried for him and was pleased to have him back. Yet the war wasn't over and there would be more battles before the thing was done.

"The sell sword reinforcements you requested have arrived, just over three thousand in number."

Jon gave his squire a nod.

"That's better than expected. Amelia, you must be tired after the journey here. Why don't you get some rest in my chambers. I won't be long"

Amelia turned those emerald eyes of hers on her soon to be husband and had to stifle a laugh.

"Dragons don't tire so easily. Let's go meet these men who fight for gold."

Jon smiled. He loved that woman more and more everyday. He nodded and led her away from the others before pausing as he passed the future ruler of Khalidor.

"Roth, why don't you come with us? I could use that discerning eye of yours. See what these sell swords are worth.

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The last body dropped at Robb's feet and he noticed one face missing from the dead.

"Bastard..."

Robb growled as he turned to level his hate filled gaze with the man who'd hurt the woman he loved. Ramsay had that wicked grin on his face and a knife to Robyn's throat. Grey Wind looked up from the body he was feeding on gore and blood dripping from his jaws. As his golden eyes fell on Ramsay a hungry growl rolled from his maw.

"Snarling beasts the two of you."

Ramsay jested.

"I'm going to put a dagger through your eye, you're not leaving this room alive."

Robb said darkly, his tone was eerily calm. Ramsay seemed confused, almost laughably so.

"Are you daft Stark? Or just blind? You do see who I'm holding? Your bitch is my shield. From your daggers and your beast. You can't hurt me as long as I-"

Ramsay's words trailed off into a howling scream as the dagger sunk into his eye. Robb hurled the small, thin blade with mind bending accuracy and speed. Ramsay barely even saw his hand move at all. Ramsay Snow fell to the ground, his body shaking as death took him. Robb rushed over and scooped up Robyn, he lifted her in his strong arms and looked into her eyes.

"You're safe now, you found your harbor."

Robb stepped over the body of Ramsay Bolton and walked out of the dungeon carrying Robyn.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Roth Ursuul
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"Sure." Roth said as he left Julia to go with Jon. He hadn't expected Jon to hire sell swords, let alone use them. His father used them frequently and they fought for him efficiently. If he could convince Jon to allow him to handle the situation, then he could turn them into a force to be reckoned with and a loyal one at that.

"My father is a master of psychological warfare. Something necessary to command mercenaries. He tested them before using them. Once he took twenty thousand foreign cut throats into a force that would fight to the death for him with only two thousand silver pieces. Allow me my men, their equipment, as well as an open field and I promise you that they will fight to the death for only a quarter of their cost." He told Jon as they walked. The king of the North lacked the malice for the matter. Roth was perfect for disciplining these sell swords.

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"You're safe now, You've found your harbor."

Robb said after lifting her in his great arms and carrying her out the dungeon. She closed her eyes, trembling.

She couldn't be left like this, unable to walk, she couldn't even close her hand unto a fist.

"Robb....I can't live like this..." She said, her voice uncharacteristically soft as she gazed up at him.

Her body was hot with pain, yet she was cold, fever setting in, she knew that over time that could be healed, yet, her hands...her feet...she couldn't pick up a sword, she couldn't even reach up to pull him into the kiss, she wanted so badly.

"You've kept me alive this long...your voice in my head urging me to keep strong yet..."She looked down at her hands, tried to will them to move but they didn't even twitch in response. "I don't want to live like this..." She said, resigning to her fate. She didn't want to die but she certainly couldn't live this way. She couldn't go from Captain to a ship to an invalid. Her pride wouldn't allow it.

"Robb..." She said, her voice heavy as her eyes watched his, as pressure began to build in her eyes.

"End it for me...Let me die in your arms..."




Clara stood in what was her old chambers, tears working in her eyes as she stood at her desk.

The last time she was here, The Captain stood at her wardrobe, looking for something she could take with her, only to end up just taking her.

Clara whimpered.

Gone...?

It didn't seem possible. She was so strong, she seemed unkillable.

Clara sat on the bed and sobbed into her hands, before crying herself to sleep.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Roth Ursuul
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Jon arched his eyebrow as he walked alongside Roth. There were times Roth seemed to be one of the wisest, kind and caring people Jon's ever met. Then he'd tell how he'd tortured the count with a smile and Jon would worry about the man he'd grow in to. Perhaps it was Khalidorian culture itself that bred a comfort with brutality and cruelty or maybe it was merely being the son of the monster who'd invaded his country but there was a darkness in Roth that troubled Jon.

"We're not going to brutalize these men or have them do it to each other for a cheaper price. Cruelty like that doesn't breed loyalty, it breeds fear. You can beat a dog and he'll obey while you hold the stick but set it down or turn your back and he'll tear your throat out."

Jon noticed Amelia gaze flick to Roth and could see the reservation in her eyes. She had a strong dislike for overt cruelty and brutalizing of people to get them to do what you wanted. It was too much like the horrible slaver practices she witnessed in Astapor.

"People can learn to love their chains. They can love their master but that doesn't make them free and that doesn't make them loyal."

Jon nodded to his future queen, her words were wise as her council always was. Jon turned back to Roth as turned the corner and approached the rear entrance to the main hall.

"These men have already agreed to fight for me Roth. Yes, we have to go over price and I need to evaluate them but we don't need them butchering each other for me to test their worth."

Jon considered Roth's suggestion a moment longer before adding.

"An exhibition could prove useful though. Not to the death but first blood should serve us well enough to gauge their strengths."

Amelia smirked and arched an eyebrow at her future husband.

"Exhibition?"

Jon shrugged with a smirk of his own and stepped out into the great hall with Roth and Amelia at either sid eof him. He stepped up to the high seat and Amelia took her rightful place by his side. Roth was seated to Jon's other side normally reserved for the Hand of The King. As Jon had yet to choose a Hand the seat tended to remain vacant.

Jon, Amelia and Roth looked out to the men assembled. Only a fraction of the fighting force had been brought into the main hall, near sixty in count. All of them had the look of fierce, efficient and capable warriors and killers. North Men gathered before him and Astaporians, men from the Arctic and Valyrian, from Anansai, The Shadow Lands beyond Asshai and beyond. A true collection of the worlds finest killers all ready to fight for Jon for the right price. At their head stood three men, their captains and leaders.

The first man Jon laid eyes on was the giant, a huge beast of a man with half his face horribly burned from scarring. He was heavily armored in thick plate and chain mail and carried a great sword taller than Jon. The man to his side short Braavosi by the look of him. He wore high duelist boots and a fine, hand worked leather vest. Hanging from his hip was a masterfully crafted rapier. The final man Jon almost missed entirely, a man with orange hair and a single white streak among his locks. He was wearing simple, unassuming armor. He casually was leaning up against the wall and smiled when Jon's eyes fell upon him.

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"A thousand, thousand greetings Noble King. This man has the honor to be Jaqen H'gar."

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Robb listened to Robyn's words, her final words as she would have it. Spoken to him in request to end her suffering. This was not the Robyn he knew and loved, this was not the woman who'd entranced him upon their first meeting nor the woman who'd captured his heart and made his blood run hot. No this was the result of torture and torment, this was the Bolton's doing and even though the Bastard of Bolton lay dead on the cold stone his influence lingered despite what Robyn would have admitted. Robb's face hardened and his eyes locked on Robyn's.

"No."

He stated boldly, with all the fire and passion he had when he told Casey that Robyn yet lived.

"You will not die today Robyn Sheva, not here, not ever should I have my way."

He cupped her face and made her to look into his eyes. He held her gaze a long moment as he searched his heart for the truth he already knew.

"I love you. Do you hear me? I love you. It's true and it has been true for a long time and I should have told you a long time ago. I love you and when you were taken from me I knew you lived, I could feel it in my heart, I knew you weren't dead. I knew it. You weren't dead then and you won't die now, I won't allow it. You will rise. This has not beaten you anymore than anything in your life has beaten you thus far. You survived Flea Bottom, you survived the nobleman, you'll survive this. You can do it because now you have something you never had before... you have me."

Robb turned for the door and headed down the hall with Robyn in his arms and Grey Wind stalking ahead of them sniffing for enemies. The burly dire wolf did need to kill one guard who unfortunately crossed paths with the group. As they walked Robb whispered to Robyn who hung limply in his arms.

"Do you know what we say to the god of death, Robyn? Not today."

Grey Wind sniffed out the room Robb was searching for and the big north man kicked in the door without hesitation. The elderly meister leapt hiding within to his feet in fright as Robb charged in with Robyn in his arms and Grey Wind prowling beside him.

"You're the meister here?"

Robb snarled. The old man nodded nervously.

"Y-Yes, I am Meister Qyburn."

"Good. Use your magic to heal her. Do it quickly and I won't have to show you what your insides look like."

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"No."

Robyn was not expecting such a definite answer.

"You will not die today, Robyn Sheva, not here, not ever, should I have my way."

Robyn watched a fire burn in his eyes, matching the passion in his voice as his hand caressed her cheek and forcing her to meet his gaze.

"I can-"

"I love you. Do you hear me? I love you. It's true and it has been true for a long time and I should have told you a long time ago. I love you and when you were taken from me I knew you lived, I could feel it in my heart. I knew you weren't dead. I knew it. You weren't dead then and you won't die now, I won't allow it. You will rise. This has not beaten you anymore than anything in your life has beaten you thus far. You survived Flea Bottom, you survived the noblemam, you'll survive this. You can do it because now you have something you never had before...you have me."

Robyn's lips parted, her brow furrowed in shock.

He said he loved her...loves her.

In that voice, the same voice that had been in her head these last agonizing few days...through all the slices, the whips, the beatings, all of it. It kept her going then and once again, kept her strong, kept her fighting now.

She just watched him then, in awe, as he carried her. He wouldn't allow her to die, he said. He wouldn't allow it.

"Do you know what we say to the god of death, Robyn?"

Robyn already knew the answer, how or why she didn't know but she spoke it with him.

"Not today."
"Not Today...."


She realized then the difference.

Casey would have granted her final wish. Robb...didn't. Blatantly, he refused to hear anything else.

That's what drew her to him, that's what made her love him.

Before she knew could work up the strength to speak those words, he found a Khalidorian healer, and ordered him to heal her.

The man gestured for him to set her down and Robyn bit back a groan.

He held his hands over her, and began to chant but not without warning them first.

"I can heal her wounds but the pain will still linger...and the healing will hurt."

"We've been through this...Just do it." Robyn ordered, sounding more like herself.

The Meister began his work and in an instant, Robyn's eyes went wide and her back arched, and she roared out in pain, as slowly her wounds began to close, fibers and muscles pulling and tugging to reform over the damage.

The pain was excruciating but she fought through it, biting down hard on her own teeth.

Finally, it was over and she gasped.

"Oh fuck..." She gasped and shot to a sitting position, breathing in shallow breaths.

She shook it off and got to her feet, wobbly at first but she steadied herself.

She worked her wrists, they were tight, as if the skin was too small but they moved. That's all that mattered to her. She managed to close her hand into a loose fist. It was all she could manage for now but again she dealt with it.

"That's better..." She breathed as she looked up at Robb. She eyed him up and down once before turning to the old man.

"Please no, I jus-" Robyn grabbed him by the face and shoved his head hard against the stone wall behind him, the skull splitting with a sickening crack. The man crumbled to the floor and she rolled her shoulders.

"You have no idea how long I waited for that." She commented to herself before turning to Robb once more. She limped up to him, watched his eyes with a soft gaze, that fell to his lips briefly, she rose her hand...and slammed it across his face.

"That...is for ordering me around. I do as I please." She told him and in the same swift moment, she wrapped her hand around the nape of his neck and pulled him into a deep, passionate kiss.

"I don't think I have to explain what that was for." She said and smiled softly.

Robyn was always a woman of action, and words couldn't quite express how she felt about him.

Love just seemed to small a word.

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#, as written by zeph_gm
Da'Karro let Scarlet run off. She was no doubt running to Jon in the hopes Da'Karro had been lying. He wished he had been. There was nothing he would want more than for Robyn to suddenly be here again, but unfortunately she was not blessed, or cursed, with his immortality. He reached down and touched where his wounds should have been. "Robyn..." breathed under his breath, "How could you leave me here on my own with these people? I need you, Scarlet needs you, Casey needs you. How could you leave us like this?" He turned and walked slowly in the direction Scarlet had ran. He wanted to give her time to come to terms with what happened. She would come back to him later, once she had calmed down. The fact he had delivered her such distressing news at their reunion left a sour taste in his mouth. It should have been a joyous affair but instead it had been marred by Robyns death. These were dark days indeed.
After a while he came across the Great hall where it was clear some sort of meeting was taking place. He hoped Scarlet would be there. He arrived and was sorely disappointed and intrigued by the array of warriors arrayed before him. More than fifty men stood around in the hall, of all different cultures and ethnic backgrounds. There were three men at the for who appeared to be in charge. It seemed He had walked into the beginning of a war council.
"A thousand, thousand greetings Noble King." One of the men at the front said, "This man has the honor to be Jaqen H'gar."

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Clara lay on top of her bed, her arms wrapped around herself, as she whimpered softly in her sleep.

"Hello there?" said the voice of a girl. Clara sat up, opening her eyes with a few sleepy blinks. "Hello?" she replied, standing over her was a dark skinned girl, smiling with a chipped front tooth, her thick black hair framed her face. Clara cocked her head .The girl looked a little younger then her, 14, 15 maybe and there was something oddly familiar about that chipped tooth. "What's your name?" She asked. the girl shrugged sadly. "I don't have one." she said. Clara pouted. "You don't have a name?"
The girl shook her head then took her hand. "We have to go now." She said and pulled Clara to her feet.

She noticed then that the girl was wearing a large coat, much too big for a girl her size, the neck hung low and she noticed something stitched in the back. The letters S H E V A were stitched in red.

Clara frowned as the girl dragged her along.

"Is she...?

"Come on, We'll be late."

"Late for what?"

"The Wedding, we'll be late for the Wedding."

Clara was at the mercy of the girl now, and the girl's excitment was infectious. Clara found herself excited for no real reason.

"Whose Wedding?"


Clara stood up out of bed, her eyes half liddened, her feet bare as she began to walk.

"Oh no, We're stuck...How do we get out."

"I know a way, I used to sneak away from the Keep all the time when I was small."

"Show me."

Dazed, Clara walked to the wardrobe, and pushed it over some. It was heavy but didn't make too much noise. She moved it over just enough to reveal and small room, Grey Wind nor Ghost couldn't fit inside but Clara was small enough to crawl through. She used to used it when she wanted to get away, which was often.

"This way." She said and slipped through the small room. It was dusty, full of cobwebs and spiders but it never bothered her. She crawled through with ease, following the imaginary dream girl. It used to be an old fireplace but had been covered over for the most part, save for the vent that let the smoke escape, her chambers didn't always exist and was built over top of it.

Clara had spent so much time in her room that she'd found many little secrets that her family knew nothing about, save for Jon.

"Are we close?"

"Yes, Can't you feel the wind?"

Clara made through a narrow corridor, and up to a wall where the wind could be heard whistling through the bricks. She pushed through the bricks and small door opened, that let off into the kitchen. She crawled out, her hands and knees, her dress covered in dust and soot.
She continued her walk and strolled out the servants entrance and into the winter covered woods outside.

"Good, now we won't be late for the wedding," the girl said happily, her hand still wrapped tightly around Clara's.

"Whose's wedding?" Clara urged.

the girl turned to her and smiled. "Yours of course!" she said excitedly and began to run.


Clara's pace picked up as she ran in the snow, her barefeet seemingly uneffected by the cold for now.

It wasn't long before she was deep into the wintery forest, the warmth of the keep a good ways away, and becoming further and further in the distance as Clara walked on.

*******
Tenanye joined the others in the war council. She smiled graciously to the sell sword from Anansai, she knew him personally. He was a solitary fae, not uncommon in Anansai, but he still have her respect as a Queen.

As they made their introductions, Nanji crawled up her shoulder and alerted her of grim news.

Her eyes went wide.

"Nani O? Tenanye gasped in her native tongue. "Honto ne?

She sighed as Nanji confirmed.

She reached over and touched Da'Karro's shoulder.

"Sumimasen," She said excusing herself with a whisper.

She was worried, barely away of her way of speaking.

"Clara's gone. Nanji went to check on her." She said gesturing to the large tarantula on her shoulder. "He's grown fond of her, he checked her room, she was gone...Sleepwalking we can only assume." She said, she wanted to alert Jon but he was under enough stress as it were. She had to tell him but she knew Da'Karro would act just as quickly and had no other obligations.

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Perhaps the culture was too different in the north than Khalidors. Godkings demanded obedience over loyalty. The most common way to create obedience was to offer grace to the obedient and wrath to those who were not. Besides, a stick can be lost, in truth magic could not. Roth feared that Jon would not have the mettle to do what was necessary. When the war would end Jon would need to bring outlaws to justice as well as wildlings. Those tribals could only be quelled through dominating, something he didn't think his friend could do.

When they viewed the mercenary army, Roth was surprised as well as angered to see Khalidorans in the mix. They were the lowest of the low. Some of them realized who he was when the Vanguard and Vurd meisters entered the room and began to sweat like pigs. Roth looked over his shoulder to see a woman enter the room. To his surprise a small creature climbed over her shoulder. It was a Fae.

The only Fae he knew of was Fayvus, though his teacher spoke of a country filled with his kind called Anansai. He wondered if she was from there and if she was a flesh eater of old. A few of his vanguard and Vurdmeisters in the room saw the small creature as well though didn't and they readied their weapons. He stared at her, now with his dragon glass dagger half unsheathed, with a both a mix of curiosity and that of fear.

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Tenanye noticed the tension in the room grew at the sight of her as well as Nanji. She frowned some as a few men, as well as a young boy readied their weapons.

"Peace..." She said slowly raising her hands. "I mean no harm. I am an ally of King Jon Stark." She said gesturing to him yet her eyes never left the body.

It was odd that she hadn't notice him before. In a room of large men, the boy should have stuck out but instead he was lost.

She gathered then that he must be the one, the young Khalidorian prince. She expected someone young, 17, 18 winters maybe but he was just a boy, still so green.

She approched him curiously and softly reached for his hand which held his dagger.

"You must be the Prince? The one that will end this war," She said, her voice soft like a mother's song. " I am Queen Tenanye Ananse, Queen of the Spider Fae and Ruler of Anansai, It is an honor, Young Prince, to meet a boy with more wisdom then most men." She said and gave a soft curtsy then offered her hand. "No need to fear, Nanji, appears more bothersome then he actually is." She said with a smile to the large furry tarantula on her shoulder.

"How may I address you, Young Prince?"

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At this point Roth had his dagger fully unsheathed as did most of his men. Even the Vurdmeisters had started to form circles. Fae in Khalidor were equivalent to demons in other cultures. The idea that Jon made an alliance with one was the idea that he sold his soul. The Vanguard were now speaking ancient Khalidoran, a language thick with hiss and spit. One notched an iron bolt to his string aimed at the queen.

"Why have you come here? Have you come to bring mypeople to their knees as your kind did in the old times? To tear the flesh from their bones as you once did?! I will not have it! You claim to come in peace and yet your wrap yourself in lies. Show your true form and your true intention, you she devil!" He hissed at her as his guards stepped closer with their weapons drawn. Roth knew his history. Although he had little problem with a few fae, the idea of a fae queen being so close to the border filled him with dread.

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Character Portrait: Amelia Targaryen Character Portrait: Arya Stark Character Portrait: Robb Stark Character Portrait: Jon Stark Character Portrait: Captian Robyn Sheva of The Harbinger Character Portrait: Roth Ursuul Character Portrait: Queen Tenanye Ananse
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"Jon."

Came his future queen voice as she touched his arm. Jon had been speaking with the odd leader of the mercenary company with his unusual free city speech when Amelia noticed the growing tension between her old friend Tenanye and Roth. Jon turned in time to see Roth flash a naked blade and his men follow suit. The sight of Khalidorians with weapons in hands was more than enough to put the room full of North Men on edge and many prepare to cut Roth's men down then and there.

"Weapons away, now!"

Jon barked at his men, his voice booming through the hall in a fashion loud enough to make Lord Umber proud. Even little Arya who had made her way into the hall during the talks was surprised at how kingly her cousin sounded. His men flicked uneasy gazes towards Roth and his men but did their kings bidding as Jon turned to his new friend and hoped he would be as easily sedated.

"Roth, she's telling the truth. Stay your blade and have your men do the same. Please, trust me. She is a friend."

The mercenary captains exchanged glances but seemed to move in to facilitate Jon's request. The big man with the burned face towered over every member of Roth's vanguard and stood directly in front of the crossbow mans weapon. Staring at him as if the Khalidorian was holding a toy.

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"Crossbow man eh? Crossbows are weapons for cunts. You going to shoot me little cunt?"

He growled with a voice like gravel and a daring eye. The Bravosi duelist took his position at Tenanye's side and drew his long thin rapier in one smooth, graceful motion as Arya looked on in awe at the man's weapon.

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"I am Syrio Forel, first sword of Braavos, second captain of the Free Company of Expendables and finest Water Dancer in the world. You are wanting to put your weapons away now, yes?"

He said, his thick Braavois accent thick in his speech. It was Jaqen who was the last to speak, casually strolling as if he was walking through a garden at midday instead of stepping through a tense stand off. He made his way to stand directly in front of Roth and bowed respectfully to the prince of Khalidor.

"Valar Morghulis, Prince Ursuul."

He said in traditional greeting from his homeland. His eyes flicked to Jon behind him before going back to Roth with the most subtle of smiles.

"Gentle Prince has many friends. Friends with magic and friends with steel and friends with both. A Gentle Prince has made a friend of the Noble King. A man must apologize but the Free Company of Expendables of which I command has just been contracted to serve the Noble King in exchange for payment. The Noble King asks for the trust of a Gentle Prince, I respectfully ask that you grant it to him."

Despite the courtesies and the due respect there was a dangerousness to Jaqen that unsettled Jon. He would not much like being alone in a dark room with the unusual man from the free cities. While the burned man was hulking and Syrio was a skilled swordsman for certain it was Jaqen who seemed to be, without a doubt, the most dangerous man among them. How skilled a killer he must be Jon could only begin to imagine. He hoped, however he would not have to find out today, not today.

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Robb was grateful to see Robyn back on her feet, and after her first kill he knew she would be fine. With that wolfish grin of his he led her out of the room and through the fort. They met little resistance and slipped back into the woods with ease. Back at Robb's horse they had a moment to catch their breath. Robb led Robyn to his saddle and after rummaging through his saddle bags a moment he found a water skin, which he handed her and then pulled out her long coat. He turned to her, clutching the still charred material his eyes on the woman it belonged to.

"I found this on the battlefield, it was over a charred corpse. They all thought it was you. I knew better. I saved this, for when I found you again."

He said as he offered her the coat back.

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Tenanye sighed.

"I will give you an answer to your questions, Young Prince, but please steady your blade."She said the iron around making her feel weak.

"The Fae in Khalidor are defectors of an old war in Anansai." She said quickly. "Unseelie, are wicked fae, and after they lost the war, some they fled, those are the ones that plagued Khalidor, not Spider Fae who were of Seelie descent." She said and closed her eyes and shifted her form. "This is my true form, I hid myself for protection not deception." She said, the iron reaction growing worse in her true form as sweat dotted her brow and her warm honey brow skin growing pale. She felt herself teeter and mere moments from falling when Casey was at her side as well as the other Fae, keeping her steady. "Many thanks." She told them, before switching back to her human form.
"Fae are unable to tell untruthes, I am no exception."



Robyn watched Robb as he held her long coat in his arms before handing it to her.

Robyn watched him with a slight frown.

"I found this on the battlefied, it was over a charred corpse. They all thought it was you. I knew better. I saved this, for when I found you again."


Robyn wasn't a crier, every but this... how he insisted that she wasn't allowed to die, how he kept her in his heart and against all odds, searched for her, found her, it made her want to, though her eyes were dry.

"Robb..." She said and stepped in front of him, taking in his warmth.

"You meant it...what you said..." she said and took her coat from him with one hand and touched his face with the other, taking in the saftey of her harbor.

"I love you, Robb Stark..." She breathed, as if just realizing it for the first time, which wasn't far from truth.

"I don't know how you did it..." She said with a light chuckle.

"But I love you..." She said softly "I can't believe it."

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Roth sheathed his dagger and his men did the same. The meisters dispelled their summoning just as the circle sparked with fire. He had the heard the words from Jaquan and the Fae, however that was not what. Calmed him. It was the sight of a young girl, one around his age. She was cute and by her attire probably a servant girl too. Although he still distrusted the Fae, as weak as she apeared to be, he didn't want the girl to see such violence, let alone think poorly of him.

"What were you summoning there, Jkar?" He asked the vurdmeister in charge of the circle. "A greater fire elemental, sir. Also an iron body and walls for your protection. Stone for the others." Roth smiled back at him. "Cleanse the room with fire? That's what I like about you Jkar, you're experienced."

"Continue Jon, I apologize any offense I may have given and now I will take my leave. Seek me out when your with more desirable company." He told the King, eyes flickering to Tenanye. There were many ways around a truth spell Roth knew. Impartial truth was one of them. As he walked out with his guards in an orderly fasion he stopped to the young girl. "My Lady." He said with a gentle smile and a short bow. Roth now saw that her eyes were a deep grayish blue. After they had left the room and walked to another he had them gather to him.

"I want all but the vurdmeisters to go around and ask about that girl. Only ask one thing, no more than that. Then report it to a meister so he can send a message hear without delay. Now go." They fanned out though none new why they were being sent. He didn't know why, but Roth wanted to know more about that girl and going back in there for personal conversation wasn't an option.

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Tenanye took a deep breath as they put their weapons away. The iron was still strong, and small reddish bumps appeared on her skin.

It was then she felt herself being lifted up ad found herself in Casey's arms.

"William?"

"You need to rest, I'll help them find Miss Clara." He said though his face held no emotion.
"I can walk, Will." She said but he didn't care, he found a room for her and sat her on the bed, opening a window.

"I'm thinking about leaving...soon." He told her.

Tenanye looked at him strangely.

"What do you mean?"

"I can't stay here, there is no reason for me to be here. Robyn's...After I speak with Miss Clara, make sure she's alright with it, but I think I should go." He said. Tenanye sighed. "You mustn't; it's alot to handle I know but, where will you go?"

"Anansai, I'm Fae right, I can get in," He said with a shrug.

"William, just give it time, don't do anything rash." She said but Casey didn't say anything. He just walked out closing the door behind him.

Tenanye sighed.

One thing after another, she couldn't help but understand. Beyond Amelia and Clara, she made no real connection to anyone. William had her blood yet still couldn't be further away...Maybe her mother was right.

She should have stayed, meddling in human affairs has always been disastrous for Fae kind....always.




Padding softly in the snow, the small pup followed the human girl as she walked alone in the forest. The pup liked the smell of the human, she seemed nice and warm, and she faintly smelled of others like him.

She peeped out a bark but the human didn't seemed to notice. She bound up beside her, nudging and yapping around legs but the human just kept walking.

The pup stopped, her furry head cocked to the side, knocking free the snow that powder, her midnight fur.

She yepped questioningly.

What was wrong with the human girl? Her eyes were closed, was she sleeping?

The pup decided, she watch over her, follow the little human girl as she walked alone.

Maybe she was by herself like she was. Her family all gone, taken by those other humans the ones that smelled different from the human she was used to.


Suddenly, the human girl stopped, when another human, a male, this time came out of the brush, he appeared to be talking to her.

The pup didn't like this human.
******

Clara's eyes fluttered open, free from her dream yet she found herself standing in front of a new nightmare.

"Clara?" came a voice that sent chills down her spine, more than the snow ever could.

"Clara, my bride, is that you?"

Clara shook her head. "No, not you...not you..." She breathed as she stood face to face with Count Blackwood, her betrothed. His eyes were wide and manic, he looked nothing like how he used to be. He was a straight dresser, everything perfect, even his hair was perfectly coffed, but now, he seemed to have gone completely mad. His hair uncomb, his clothes tattered and torn, covered in dried blood.

She started to turn and run but he grabbed her.

"No, you came to me, I am not losing you again." He said deftly. "Let me go!" She shreiked, her voice echoing in the trees. The Count's hold was strong but he was no match for the sound of her shriek. He closed his hands aroun his ears and she took off running, he gave chase.

She weaved through the trees, and lept over fallen wood, The Count not far after, he managed to catch up to her, and reached out, grabbing the hem of her shirt, she broke from his grip but the break, made her stumble and fall, her head hitting a fallen log, knocking her unconscious, but not before she felt herself being dragged and then lifted up.

"I know just where to keep you...you'll never be gone from me again."

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Jon breathed a sigh of relief as Roth took his leave. He was quickly seeing Roth as not just and ally but a close friend. For all he liked about Roth, for all he admired about the young man little older than his cousin Arya, Roth was stubborn and incredibly strong willed. Not always bad qualities but at times could make it difficult to deal with when his beliefs conflicted with the logical course. Jon could be similar at times so he understood. Few things troubled him more than his Northern honor while Roth had his strict Khalidorian faith and customs to contend with. Both of them always trying to do the right thing in a sea of questionable choices.

As Roth and his men exited the room the Braavosi known as Syrio Forel sheathed his rapier and the big, scarred man grunted almost disappointingly. Jon turned to all three captains and gave them a thankful nod yet it was not King Stark who spoke their thanks but his soon to be bride.

"Jaqen H'gar and your Expendables. You have my gratitude and that of my betrothed for certain. You say you were merely acting as his agent for a deal has been brokered but as of yet, no money has changed hands. Your intervention was a kindness and one that will not be forgotten."

The keen eyed mercenary leader turned to Amelia and bowed graciously.

"Valar Morghulis, Silver Haired Queen."

"Valar Dohaeris."

Amelia returned in perfect Valyrian without hesitation. Jaqen seemed pleased with her response as did the Braavosi who smiled cheerfully.

"A man gives his thanks, it is good to hear eastern courtesies again. Originally this man comes from the free city of Lorath and such things are common place. Your grace gifts me with the memory of home."

Amelia smiled elegantly and took her seat beside Jon.

"Nyke Amelia Jelmāzmo hen Targārio Lentrot, hen Valyrio Uēpo ānogār iksan. Valyrio muño ēngos ñuhys issa."

She responded in her native tongue. Jon could listen to her speak Valyrian for hours, it was such a beautiful language especially when uttered by Amelia whose beauty seemed to only enhance if that was possible when she spoke it.

"And you speak it wonderfully, of course."

Jaqen said with one more final bow to the Amelia before turning to Jon.

"Noble King and Wonderous Queen. A man and his companions will be honored to fight for you. This day we have halted bloodshed and in so doing saved a life, many perhaps. Now only death can pay for life, the Red God demands it. Give us death, Noble King. Show us your enemies and we shall offer them to the Red God, one by one."

Jon listened to Jaqen's words and nodded slowly. The way he spoke was unusual but there was almost a dark poetry to them that Jon enjoyed. Yet before he could speak the big man with the scarred face crossed his thick arms over his broad chest with a grumble.

"Offer them to whatever god you want Jaqen, we fight for gold less you forgot and I haven't heard a lick about payment."

He said bluntly. Jaqen sighed as if embarrassed and nodded to Jon.

"Apologies, a mans companion has no courtesy. This man is Sandor Clegane, also called The Hound."

"Clegane?"

Amelia repeated out loud, recognizing the name as did Jon. Jon's dark eyes locked on the big man, horribly scarred in the face. Broad of shoulder with dark, filthy brown hair. A killers look to him with an unfriendly gaze. He looked a lot like the reports of his monstrous brother Ser Gregor.

"Clegane is one of the noble houses of the South is it not? A vassal to House Lannister of Casterly Rock who are stewards for the King of Drake, our enemies ally. You are aware if you sign up with us you may need to fight members of your house, perhaps even your own brother. Last I heard The Mountain was harrying the South Atlantic country side."

Jon said. Sandor just shrugged, seeming of little care of the prospect of having to kill his own brother.

"Fuck the Mountain."

Ser Brynden Tully chuckled from his position near Jon's high seat as he stood watch. Jon had to stifle a smirk himself, the man was a hard one. Tough as they come but there was something refreshing about his blunt honesty.

"Fair enough. Payment will be as we discussed in our letters. If that is still sufficient with you I could put your company to work immediately."

Jaqen turned to Syrio who nodded to him in satisfaction. Then he turned to the surly, Sandor Clegane. He hesitated a moment, his eyes on Jon before he nodded as well. Pleased Jaqen turned and bowed a final time.

"The Free Company of Expendables are yours."

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Arya was still more than a little confused as to the princes parting words as he left the main hall. My lady, she wasn't his lady, she wasn't anyone's lady. Sure she'd been called the term before, more than once and most by people in this room. A term for her status and one she never quite cared for but why did he stop to call her that? She'd seen that kind of thing before but never with her. Princes, lordlings and nobles kids used to do that all the time with her sister Sansa. Everyone was always fawning over her so she was every ones lady all the time. Arya? No she was invisible at best and an annoyance at worst. She arched her eye brow and watched Roth leave, unsure what he was playing at.

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Robb held Robyn a moment, finally feeling at peace now that he had her in his arms once again. He held her close without a word for a long time. Both of them just enjoying the closeness. It was actually Grey Wind who made any sound first. With a subtle whimper he pushed his nose at Robyn's thigh, begging for a touch. Robb chuckled and took a step back.

"He missed you too."

Robb said with a smirk as he turned back to his saddle while Robyn greeted the big dire wolf. He pulled her cutlass out of his bag along with her pistol. Turning back to her he handed her the weapons before climbing into the saddle and helping her up behind him.

"We've got a long ride ahead of us and now that you have your coat back I have the uncontrollable urge to get you in my chambers so I can tear it off you."

Robb teased with his signature grin as he urged the horse into a trot.

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