AN: New chapter guys. A bit of a long one with a fair bit of talking, but there is some action near the end.

Just to give you a fair warning it'll be a while before I get another chapter up as I have been distracted by Fallout 4 recently, so I'll be writing at a much slower pace. But do not worry, I'm not giving up on this story.

As always, I don't own GoT or ASOIAF, they belong to GRRM and HBO.

Chapter 8

Robb Stark

Hornwood was a hive of activity. Men were busy carrying out their tasks, but none wore the colours of House Hornwood. The dark orange banners bearing the Hornwood sigil of a brown bull moose were still seen from the castle, but the men within were in the colours of House Manderly. Sitting atop his horse was a fat knight with a bald head and big moustache. Robb recognised him as Ser Wendel Manderly.

"My Lord Stark," the knight spoke loudly as Robb and his men approached him. "I am glad that you are here. Our prisoners have been giving me such a headache it is almost tempting to let them escape so that I can honourably dispatch the curs." Robb inclined his head as he stopped his horse. He knew that there were not many prisoners taken by Ser Wendel and his men; the charred bodies of men piled a mile west of the castle walls were the bodies of the Bolton men that had been killed, and there were dozens if not just over a hundred bodies from the height of the pile.

"Ser Wendel, how bad is the situation?" Robb asked the older knight, who had a grim look to him.

"It is bad my lord," he answered as he urged his horse to turn around. Robb rode alongside Ser Wendel as he led them into the courtyard. "Lord Halys and his son Daryn were brutally killed by the traitor. Lady Donella, Lord Halys's wife, my father's cousin, had suffered a worse fate." Robb did not need Ser Wendel to elaborate what he meant; it was clear already that Lady Hornwood was more than likely raped before being killed.

"With Lord Halys and his wife and son dead, House Hornwood is gone," Robb said sadly. He remembered visiting the castle with his father when he was ten years old. He had found a friend in Daryn during his time there as a child, and he was fond of old Lady Donella who had been nothing but kind to him during his stay, even when he and Daryn had caused some upset for the castellan's son she was kind after she finished scolding them. Their senseless murders angered him. "We shall bring justice upon the Bastard of the Dreadfort for his crimes. You have my word Ser Wendel." The knight nodded his head, his face more grim than before. They rode through the gates and entered the courtyard to find it in a state of disrepair. Men scurried around carrying whatever tools and supplies they needed to do their job. Robb noticed that one or two men were only wearing tunics instead of thick coats. The winter has definitely subsided if some men are brave enough to only wear tunics, he thought as he dismounted his horse.

Robb followed Ser Wendel as he led them inside the castle. They entered the lord's solar, which had clearly been cleaned up. Robb shuddered at the thought of Lord Hornwood and his family being murdered in this very room. As he looked down at the desk he noticed a dark stain on the corner furthest from him. He looked away, not willing to look at the dried blood stain. As he took a seat Robb noticed that Ser Wendel's older brother Ser Wylis was also present.

"Ser Wylis," he said in greeting. The heir to White Harbour bowed his head.

"My lord. I have brought with me more men and knights to assist in dealing with the kinslaying bastard," he said. "My lord father is eager to see justice done."

"As are we all," Robb replied as a few more men entered the room. He sees the master of Torrhen's Square and head of House Tallhart, Ser Helman, and his son Benfred, the heir to Torrhen's Square. Benfred is a year younger than Robb, and a close friend to him; he was often in Robb's company whenever he came to Winterfell with his father. He was absent at Robb's wedding though as he was still healing from an injury that he had sustained in the weeks before the royal visit. "Ben," Robb greeted his old friend.

"Hey Robb… um, my lord," he said sheepishly as his father rolled his eyes.

"My Lord Stark," Ser Helman said. "We have brought four hundred archers as well as three hundred pikemen. It's not much I know, but we will do our part. I brought Benfred with me as I feel it is time for him to learn the ways of war properly." Robb looked from Ser Helman to Benfred and saw a small smile that the young man had. Just the same as me when I first rode off to battle, he realised. He'll wise up soon enough.

"Let us hope to be done with this quickly," Robb said before he looked at some of the others to have arrived. Lord Medger Cerwyn stood by Robb's right shoulder, with Robin Flint of Widow's Watch stood next to him. Across from them was Ser Donnel Locke, a knight from House Locke of Oldcastle, and to Robb's surprise Smalljon Umber, the eldest son of the Greatjon. "I wasn't expecting to see you just yet Smalljon," Robb said to the towering man. Smalljon laughed as he stepped forward to the desk.

"My father had sent me with three hundred swordsmen to meet up with you and let you know of his own plans," he said. Theon put a map of the North on the desk and put some books down on the corners to hold it down and stop it rolling back up. Smalljon placed his finger over the map as Robb leaned over to see what he was pointing at. "My father has marched our forces south of the Last River, and is gathering our might within the Lonely Hills. When I left my lord father was waiting for the Karstarks to cross their side of the river. From there our combined forces will lay siege to the Dreadfort, and force Snow to watch us, turning his attention away from his west and south." Robb nodded his head.

"From there we'll surround him and cut off any hope of escape," Robb concluded, looking up at Smalljon to see him nod his head in agreement. "We do this quickly we can end this matter within a month at most. Still, we better plan for a long siege."

"Taking the Dreadfort will not be easy my lord," Ser Helman said as Robb stood up straight. "That fortress is ancient, with thick stone walls and massive towers. If I remember my history well it took King Harlon Stark a long time to force them to surrender."

"Two years," Robb said, remembering the lessons that he had learned from Maester Luwin in regards to the Kings in the North, from Bran the Builder, the first King in the North and founder of House Stark who built Winterfell and the Wall, to the last King in the North, Torrhen Stark, the King who Knelt. King Harlon had dealt with House Bolton several centuries ago when they rebelled against Stark rule. The war between the two Houses ended with a two year long siege that saw the inhabitants of the Dreadfort struggle and eventually they began to starve. Only when it got unbearable for them did the Boltons surrender and bend the knee. It was around that time that they were forced to abandon their vile practice of flaying their enemies.

"It won't be easy, but we can manage," Smalljon said. "We have enough men between us to take the blasted place and raze it to the ground." Both Manderly brothers voiced their agreement with Smalljon, as did Ser Helman and Ser Donnel. Robin Flint cleared his throat to catch everyone's attention.

"What's up lad?" Ser Helman asked him. Robin stepped forward and looked at Robb.

"My lord, while laying siege to the Dreadfort I believe it would be prudent to scour the surrounding land for any secret access points," he said. "Escape tunnels or secret entrances. If we lay siege to the castle Ramsey Snow may well attempt to escape, and if there is such a tunnel then we will still have a dangerous criminal to contend with should we sack the Dreadfort." Robin stepped back slightly after he was done talking. Robb looked from him to the others, who all looked back at him.

"That idea has some merit my lord," Ser Donnel said.

"Indeed," Robb agreed. He looked at Robin and gave him a small smile. "Theon, as we approach the Dreadfort you will be in charge of some of our scouts, along with Robin Flint and Smalljon who shall lead their own scouting parties. Between the three of you I want you all to search every inch of the land for anything that could lead to the Dreadfort. If such a tunnel exists, and it probably would exist, then it could be possible for us to enter the Dreadfort and take it from within." Theon nodded when Robb finished talking.

"Once there I shall not rest until we have exhausted such a search," he replied. Robb looked to the master of Torrhen's Square.

"Ser Helman, I want you to send your fastest riders to Lord Umber and Lord Karstark, commanding them to search the land on their side thoroughly as well. If they find any tunnels they are to guard them and send word to me as quickly as possible."

"It'll be done my lord," Ser Helman said. Robb then looked back down at the map and traced his finger around the marking of the Dreadfort.

"If the bastard has any sense then he'll start to force any holdfasts and castles within the vicinity of the Dreadfort to send whatever food they have to him to be ready for a long siege," he said. "I want standing orders throughout the ranks that any provisions recovered from Bolton men are to be delivered to our own stockpiles, or if they cannot be taken then they are to be burned." The gathered men looked up at him as if he had taken leave of his senses.

"My lord?" Ser Wylis asked. Robb looked at him.

"If we cannot take the Dreadfort from within then it'll be a long siege," Robb explained. "The less food they have the sooner we can take the castle. What food we have to destroy we will replace with whatever funds we have to spare. I'm sure the Reach has already started to plant their own crops again." The men all began to nod their heads once they understood what Robb had planned.

"With spring in the air and summer approaching we will be getting more crops planted soon," Ser Helman said. "As long as we are careful we won't lose too much food."

"When we arrive at the Dreadfort I want men to start building siege towers and battering rams," Robb continued. "If we have to endure a long siege then I want them ready before we have exhausted all other options. Is that clear?" The men all bellowed their agreement. Robb took a deep breath as he walked to the window on the other side of the desk.

"My lord, what do you want done with the prisoners?" Ser Wendel asked. Robb sighed as he turned to face him.

"I've a mind to have them beheaded, but the Wall does need men. Send them to Castle Black. They can either take the black, or lose their heads," he said, his voice stern like his father's would be when giving such a command.

"Very well my lord," Ser Wendel responded.

"That will be all. If anyone has a concern then remain behind and we shall discuss it, otherwise you may take your leave. I'll hold another meeting in two days' time and then we shall march out as soon as our forces here are ready to march." With that the men left the room. Robb turned to see all of them leave apart from Theon and Benfred.

When the others had left Robb sat down on a seat and indicated for Theon and Benfred to do the same. Both of them sat down and looked at him. Robb sighed as he leant back in his chair. At that moment he felt like he was much older than twenty. He rubbed his hands over his face and then he brushed his hair back. Theon looked at him before looking at Benfred.

"So how're you doing Benfred?" Theon asked him. "Last I heard you injured yourself. You weren't too vigorous with a girl now were you?" Benfred looked taken aback by the question.

"Wha… NO!" he yelled out in surprise. He coughed quickly and gave Theon an apologetic look. "No, I had fallen off of my horse while riding around Torrhen's Square. I got a bit careless and lost my balance and was quite lucky the stupid beast didn't trample me into the dirt." Robb let out a dry laugh.

"Gods Ben I didn't think you would be daft enough to drop off of your horse," he said. "It's a shame you didn't make it to my wedding. You would've enjoyed yourself." Benfred looked down at his lap with a sad look in his eye.

"Yeah, I'm sorry I missed it too," he said before a wide grin spread across his face. "My father told me you denied the bedding ceremony and took your bride to your chambers without an escort."

"There was an escort," Robb said defensively. Theon chuckled.

"A pair of direwolves do not count as an escort," he said. "It's just as well that Grey Wind is familiar with my scent." Robb glared at his friend then, and Theon looked away with a slight look of shame in his eyes.

"You didn't?" he asked in a stern tone, wondering if his friend had gone against his wishes and took some others to just outside his chambers when he and Cassana were consummating their marriage. Theon sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

"Just myself and a maid who got lost," he said. "We heard a noise that said maid had never heard before so we followed the sound, and as soon as I saw Grey Wind and Summer stood guard outside your room with Nymeria and Shaggydog I pulled the maid away. She was quite confused with why you two were so loud so I… took the liberty to explain to her what she had been hearing. Let's just say that she wasn't a maid by the time I was done with her." Benfred, who had been about to take a drink from a cup that was on the desk, snorted half the cup's contents up his nose and gasped for breath. When he cleared his airways he looked at Theon with a hint of disgust. "Oh come on Benfred, you should know me by now. I never can keep my breeches up whenever I see a pretty girl around."

"Makes me glad I never let you near my sister," he replied.

The three of them continued to talk for a few hours, during which they ate their dinner and discussed unimportant matters, before Robb sent Theon to go and see to the men that they had brought with them. Theon left them, hinting about getting a woman to keep him company for a short time. When Theon left Benfred stood up to leave as well before he stopped at the doorway and turned to look at Robb again.

"Is something on your mind Ben?" he asked. The young man nodded his head and sighed before he spoke.

"It's just… I've been wondering Robb," he began unsurely as he stepped closer to Robb. "You have given Theon command of a scouting party, along with the Smalljon and Robin Flint, yet you haven't given me a command. I'm just wondering why." Robb looked at his friend and stood up from his seat. He took a single step towards Benfred and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"You're not ready for a command yet," he said. When Benfred looked ready to protest he continued. "Your father has brought you here to learn. I know you think that means being given a command of men and doing what you have been ordered to do, believe me that is exactly what I thought it meant too. I got away with it because I have fought and killed men before, and I am the heir to Winterfell. You will have heard of what happened last year with those pirates so I won't go over that story again, but I'll tell you now that it is not a simple case of being given however many men and marching to meet your opponent in glorious battle. When we take the field you will be beside me as part of my own personal guard." Benfred looked up at him in shock then.

"Personal guard?" he stammered. His face was contorted with confusion.

"When I led men into battle with those pirates I surrounded myself with several men, including Smalljon Umber, and Torrhen and Eddard Karstark," Robb told him. "Eddard died saving my life, as did a few other soldiers. Torrhen took a small wound to his arm while Smalljon got an arrow in the leg, just above his knee." Benfred looked away from Robb then, but after a moment he burst out laughing. "What?" Robb asked. Benfred calmed himself down before looking back at Robb.

"At least it wasn't an arrow to the knee," he said. "I don't think he would've liked being married to a bloody pirate." Upon realising that Benfred was japing Robb started to laugh. He tried to not laugh, but failed miserably. They both laughed for a short while, Robb doubling over as he tried to calm himself down. When he was done laughing he sat back down. "Sorry Robb, I couldn't resist. And you were looking far too grim earlier," Benfred said while still chuckling. Robb gave him a grateful smile.

"I have plenty reason to be grim at the moment," he said as Benfred slowly stopped laughing. "Torrhen was killed while buying time for his sister to escape. Lady Alys came close to being raped by Bolton men before Ser Wendel arrived with his men. House Hornwood is gone…"

"Not quite Robb," Benfred interrupted. Robb looked at him, confused by his friend's words. Benfred must have realised that Robb was confused, so he explained. "My cousins mother if I remember rightly was Lord Hornwood's sister, which means my cousins have Hornwood blood." With that explanation Robb's eyes widened. Of course, he thought. How did I not realise that? The Hornwoods can survive through the female line. Robb gave Benfred a kind smile before he stood up.

"We can deal with that once we have dealt with Snow, but you may have just helped to ensure that an old House will not fall into extinction," he said. Benfred gave Robb a small smile.

"Well, just proving my usefulness to you," he quipped. Robb smirked slightly.

"Well, you'll have plenty opportunities to be doing that," he told Benfred. "For now it's getting late, and I am in need of some sleep. Go get some rest Ben, we've got a long few days ahead of us. I'll see you on the morrow." Benfred bid Robb goodnight and made his way out. Robb walked in the opposite direction from him as he walked to the courtyard. Even though he could sleep inside the castle Robb decided that he would sleep in a tent just outside the walls with his men around him. He did not feel comfortable sleeping in Hornwood given what had happened there so many days ago. As Robb walked through the courtyard in the direction of his tent Grey Wind padded alongside him. A soldier ran up to them, slowing down as he got closer.

"Milord, your tent has been set up as per your request," he said.

"Good," Robb simply said. "Go and find Theon Greyjoy and tell him to meet with me."

"Yes milord," the soldier said with a slight bow. As the man ran off in search of Theon Robb walked past the various men as they huddled around the fires. The men of House Manderly had already garrisoned the castle so Robb was not going to force them out into the cold, even though he could rightly order them to do so. And as most of his own men were going to be sleeping outside he felt that he should do the same.

"Come along Grey Wind," Robb said as he entered his tent. He held the flap of the entrance open to let his massive companion in before he too entered.

Robb had been in his tent only five minutes when Theon entered. He had a slight flush to his face, indicating that he had just been with a camp follower. The Iron Islander grinned from ear to ear as he took a seat across from Robb.

"Gods you look so fucking miserable Robb," he said. "If I didn't know you better I'd have brought a girl in with me." Robb playfully shot a glare at Theon.

"You do that and I'll have your head on a spike quicker than you can jape," Robb said, making Theon laugh. "Laugh all you want Theon, it'll be preferable to what Cass will do to you," he said after a moment. Theon cleared his throat and looked serious for a moment.

"No thanks to either," he said. "I'm partial to living, and that wife of yours scares the hells out of me." The two of them laughed briefly before they calmed down. "Anyway Robb, what's going on that you couldn't wait until morning before speaking to me?" Robb took a deep breath before looking up at his friend.

"Just something that I need to clear up with you about the scouting," he stated, his voice serious to let Theon know he was not japing. Theon sat down on a seat across from Robb as he continued. "It'll be a few more days before our forces are ready to march, but I'll be sending the scouting parties out tomorrow. That means you'll be up early to break your fast and then you'll go off scouting." Theon groaned in annoyance at Robb's words.

"Up early, really?" Theon grumbled, making Robb smirk at his friend's expense.

"I know you'd rather be sleeping away, but we need to make sure that Ramsey Snow does not have any ambushes set up," Robb said. "I need you and the others to scout ahead and deal with any enemy scouts and sentries. Try and take the odd prisoner for questioning. Only kill if you are discovered or make your presence known to them. If you can't afford to send men back with prisoners then by all means kill them." Theon looked up at Robb sharply then.

"Kill prisoners? That doesn't seem honourable," Theon said snidely.

"It isn't, but we need to think practically here," Robb responded. "Prisoners should be taken, but we cannot always do the honourable thing during conflict if it means the difference between life and death." Saying that made Robb think back to last year; after dealing with the pirates and destroying their ships he took many prisoners, while several of his men said it was impractical and dangerous to take so many prisoners. Robb ignored those complaints and kept those prisoners alive, as he believed it to be the right thing to do, the honourable thing to do. The honourable path had led to eight of his men being killed when several pirates escaped their bonds. The pirates were recaptured, and Robb executed all of those pirates in anger. After that he had spoken with his father about what happened and what he did, and asked for what he should have done. His father responded by saying, "Do what must be done at the time, but strive to do the honourable thing where possible during conflict. Always remember that what you do and what you order your men to do is on your conscience. You must learn to live with what you do, no matter what it was. You will learn as I have that sometimes the right path is not always the honourable path. What you do is your choice and your choice alone, and no matter what you must live with it the rest of your days." Those words have stayed with Robb since he spoke with his father about his actions. He decided that day that he would never again put the lives of his men at risk when there is no need. Better to kill a dozen enemy soldiers than risk them escaping and killing my own men because I did not have the means to hold them securely, he thought.

"Seems fair enough to me," Theon said dismissively, drawing Robb back to their conversation. "So, how many men are you giving me to scout with?" Robb stood up from his seat and walked over to his satchel which was laying on his bed. He opened it up and pulled out a journal that held the numbers of men that he had brought with him. He had updated it two nights ago, and he would update it again after the next meeting with his lords and officers. Robb opened the journal and looked at the page with the up to date numbers. Just under a thousand men, not counting the men who have joined us since the day before yesterday, he thought. He looked back to Theon who was still sat down.

"I'll give you thirty men to lead," he said. "Do not engage forces that your own group doesn't outnumber." Theon scoffed at Robb.

"Thirty men?" he said. "What the… we'll have a lot of ground to cover between here and the Dreadfort."

"Any more men would be far too many for scouting with," Robb said before Theon could get another word in. "And do not forget, you will not be the only group of scouts that I send out." Theon rolled his eyes as he stood up slowly from his seat.

"Of course, Smalljon and Flint will have their own bands. How many will they have?"

"Thirty men, each," Robb said sharply. As Theon turned around Robb continued. "I'll be sending more scouting parties over the next few days when we have more men available." Theon looked back at him and seemed to be thinking before his lips curved up into a small smile.

"My group and the other two get sent out tomorrow, and then a few days after that more groups get sent out to cover any ground that could be missed by us," Theon stated as if he was catching onto Robb's planning. Robb nodded his head in acknowledgement.

"When the second set of scouts has been sent out I'll march our forces to the Dreadfort at full strength," he said. "We should be at the Bolton's castle within the next twenty days. When you and the other scouts get there you are to draw Ramsey's men out to lure them away, and thin out their numbers. Make it look like you're bandits though, and not soldiers, or the bastard won't send anyone out. At the same time…"

"Scour the lands for any secret tunnel exits that could lead into the Dreadfort," Theon said. "I remember."

"Good," Robb said. "Now then, as we have got everything covered I suggest that you go and get some sleep. You'll need it." With that Theon nodded his head and made his way to leave the tent. Before he left Robb called out to him. When Theon turned around to face him he added, "And that's sleep, not spend all night bedding women, or you'll never be awake enough to ride out." Theon grinned again, that childish grin that made Robb want to roll his eyes as he knew that Theon would not listen.

"Oh don't be such a spoil sport Robb," he said. "Or would you like me to send a woman your way?" Robb just stared at him, his eyes serious and his face blank. "Okay, okay I'm going." When Theon finally left Robb let out a yawn. He turned to look around the inside of the tent. Grey Wind whimpered slightly, and Robb looked down at his faithful companion.

"I know Grey Wind, I miss her too," he said as he patted the direwolf on the head. Robb sat down on his bed and after a short time he lay down to get some sleep.

Cassana Stark

Cassana woke up feeling groggy and sore. Yesterday she had been doing her duties with Lady Catelyn, and she had not been practicing with her sword since Robb left for the Dreadfort. Right now she felt like she could sleep for longer, but she knew that she could not be complacent. She looked over to the windows and saw that the sun was only just beginning to rise. After thinking about it for a few minutes Cassana decided to rise out of her bed. It still felt unusual to wake up alone; she had gotten used to waking up beside Robb. Once she was dressed she summoned some servants and asked them to prepare a bath for her. An hour later she was entering the great hall, refreshed from her bath and wearing a blue and grey dress with some gold detailing along the sleeves and the hem of the skirt.

"Good morning Cassana," Catelyn said when she approached the table where her good-mother sat.

"Morning," Cassana replied. When she sat down the servants brought their breakfast. On the plate was bacon, eggs, sausages and bread fresh out of the oven. Little Rickon walked up to take the seat beside Cassana, with Shaggydog following behind him. The direwolf sat down next to him as he tucked into his breakfast. "No greeting for us?" Cassana teased as he chewed on his food. Rickon rolled his eyes and finished his mouthful.

"Morning mother, morning Cass," he said. The nine year old went back to eating, leaving Cassana and Catelyn to shake their heads while still smiling at the youngest Stark.

Cassana and her husband's family resumed eating, with Cassana not eating much of her food. She drank her cup of water to wash down the taste of her food, which did not agree with her this time. She normally loves bacon and sausages, but for the last few weeks the smell has left her grimacing and feeling unwell, while the taste was different than normal. It was clear to her that she was pregnant, but she still did not know if she should tell anyone else. As she left the hall to go about her duties Catelyn followed her and called out to her. She turned to see her good-mother walking swiftly to her.

"Are you alright?" Catelyn asked. Cassana smiled at her, hoping that she would not ask further.

"I'm fine my lady," she answered. Catelyn smiled back as she took her hands in her own.

"You can call me Cat when it's just family around," she said. "And please, I know the signs well enough myself." Cassana's smile dropped then, caught off by Catelyn's words. "I carried Robb in my womb for nine months, as well as the others after him. After five children I am pretty sure that I know these signs. Have you seen Luwin yet?" Not able to keep the truth from her any longer Cassana let out a deep sigh.

"I saw him before Robb left to deal with Ramsey Snow," she said. "I was meaning to go back to him but I want to wait until I am sure myself that I am with child and not just feeling unwell." Cassana bit her lip while Catelyn just gave her a warm smile.

"Well, perhaps we can go and see the good Maester just now and then I'll let you have today off to do as you want," she said. "You have been working far too hard recently, and you'll need to get some rest." Together the two of them walked off to find Luwin, who they found with the ravens. When they walked to him he looked up at them and smiled.

"My ladies," he said as he gave them a low bow. Cassana looked down at the old man's hands and noticed that he was holding a scroll with her father's royal seal. She raised her eyebrow at this.

"News from King's Landing?" she asked pointing at the scroll. Luwin gave her a small smile.

"Nothing to fret about my lady," he replied reassuringly. "It is probably about the tourney being held in honour of Lord Eddard's appointment as Hand." Cassana rolled her eyes. Curse father and his love of bloody tourneys. Does he mean to bankrupt the Kingdoms, she thought. She watched as Catelyn took the scroll and broke the seal. She read it quickly before looking at Cassana.

"Just how many tourneys has the King held in recent years?" she asked.

"Too bloody many," Cassana answered with a huff. After shaking her head she looked back towards Luwin. "Anyway Maester Luwin, we are here because of what we last spoke about." Luwin looked at her before looking at Catelyn. After a moment he waved them to follow him into his chambers. A few minutes later the three of them were sat down in Luwin's room as he set up some tools that he would need to use.

"Any more bouts of sickness recently?" he asked her. Cassana shook her head in response. "Any pains around your body? Headaches?" Cassana looked at Catelyn who nodded her head in encouragement. She looked back at Luwin and then answered him.

"I have had some pain around my back and my," she coughed before carrying on, "breasts over the last few days." Cassana looked back at her good-mother, who just smiled at her. "I have also felt the need to be sick, but I haven't vomited at all recently, and I have felt more tired than normal." Luwin looked at Cassana and smiled at her.

"Yes, these are normal signs my lady," he said. "The pains are indeed normal, as is the tiredness. As for feeling sick and not vomiting there is nothing to be concerned with there. It is rare to not vomit so much during the first stages of pregnancy, and rarer still for a woman to never have morning sickness, but it has happened in the past. If you will permit me I can examine you to ascertain whether you are with child or not." Cassana slowly nodded her head, giving the Maester her permission.

Ten minutes later Cassana and Catelyn were walking out of the Maester's quarters, both women smiling at Luwin's confirmation of Cassana's pregnancy. The examination was brief, and Luwin gave them good news. Despite the good news Cassana could not help but feel a little nervous. Catelyn grasped her hand gently.

"I felt the same worries myself when I learned that I was carrying Robb," she explained as they walked back outside. They stopped by the balcony that overlooked the tiltyard and turned to watch Rickon as Ser Rodrik put him through his paces. "When will you tell Robb?" Catelyn asked her as they watched Rickon spar with the master-at-arms. "Will you wait for him to return or…"

"I spoke with him before he left and told him that I suspected that I was pregnant," Cassana answered quickly as she turned to face Catelyn. "There'll be no need for me to send word to him to confirm the news. We can wait for him to return. I doubt that he will be long." The sound of wood clashing wood made both women turn to look as Rickon circled Ser Rodrik, the older man praising Rickon on his parrying.

"The Dreadfort is a large castle Cassana," Catelyn said. "It has weathered many a siege over the thousands of years that it has stood. Robb will be hard pressed to storm it and reduce it to rubble."

"Maybe," Cassana replied as she watched Rickon lunge at Ser Rodrik, who stepped to the side and slashed at him. Rickon leant back just ever so slightly, dodging the blow that would have clipped his head, and swept his sword at Ser Rodrik's belly. The wooden blade hit the knight, and Ser Rodrik grunted at the unexpected blow.

"Good strike lad!" he yelled before launching a flurry of slashes that forced Rickon to step back. The youngest Stark jumped back, grinning like a madman before charging forward with a furious roar. He hacked at Ser Rodrik, aiming for his sword arm. The blunt edge of the wooden sword struck the master-at-arms across the wrist, not hard enough to break anything but hard enough to leave a bruise. Rickon followed up with a strike to the back of the leg, turning his blade at the last second so that the flat of the blade hit Ser Rodrik's leg. He hit with such force that the old master-at-arms was forced to his knees. Rickon then raised the sword and pressed the blade against Ser Rodrik's neck, bringing an end to that sparring session. "Very good lad, very good!" Ser Rodrik called out as he struggled to his feet, rubbing his wrist. Cassana smiled as she leant against the railing in front of her and saw from the corner of her eye that Catelyn looked at her youngest son with a proud smile on her face.

"Well fought Rickon," Catelyn called out to him. Rickon looked up to them and smiled widely at them.

After watching the sparring between Rickon and Ser Rodrik, Cassana went for a walk in the godswood, just to stretch her legs more than anything. She was accompanied by Ser Rodrik's daughter Beth Cassel, who has kept Cassana company whenever she was not with either Robb or Catelyn. The two young women wandered around the godswood, stopping at the weirwood so that Beth could quickly pray to the old gods. While Beth prayed Cassana read a letter that Luwin had given to her before she left his quarters. The letter was from Lady Maege Mormont, saying that she and her eldest daughter Lady Dacey were going to arrive at Winterfell later than originally planned due to the weather around the Bay of Ice that surrounds Bear Island making it harder to travel. Cassana was a little bit disappointed at this, but she could not fault the old She-bear for something beyond her control. As she finished reading the letter she thought back to her first meeting with Lady Maege and her daughter Dacey, and her failed attempt to make a friend out of the younger Mormont woman.

Cassana stood beside her father and brother as well as Robb and his father just as the Mormont women arrived. It was the first time that Cassana would meet the Ladies of Bear Island, and she was a little bit excited to meet them. Lady Maege dismounted her horse along with her daughter Dacey. Both women wore leather breeches and chainmail armour, each with a mace hooked to their belts. Lady Maege also had a sword sheathed at her hip. It was the day before the wedding, and Cassana was glad that the last of the guests had finally arrived.

"Your grace," Lady Maege greeted before she and her daughter each gave her father an elegant curtsey. "We were expecting Lord Stark to greet us and to be introduced to you later. It is good to greet you just now." Cassana's father barked out a laugh.

"It is good to see you again Lady Mormont," he said. "I was just taking a stroll with Ned when we heard the horn signalling your arrival, so I thought to greet you as well, and save you the trouble later." Lady Maege gave the King a smile, which softened her hard face. Her daughter Dacey stood beside her, her own face grim, but she held herself with dignity.

As the group walked into Winterfell to be introduced to the others, Cassana found herself walking beside Dacey. The woman was older than Robb, and had dark hair held in a warrior's ponytail. She seemed like a hard Northern woman, but other than that she seemed polite.

"So Lady Dacey," Cassana began in a bid to start conversation with her. "I have heard that you are quite skilled with a mace?" The younger Mormont woman looked at her and scoffed.

"I certainly do not wear this thing on my hip as a fashion statement my princess," she said a little bit harshly as she quickened her pace. Cassana was taken aback by the hostility. She took a deep breath and walked a little bit faster to keep up with her.

"I have to admit that I've always admired the women of your House," she said. "I have held an interest in combat myself." The Mormont woman looked at her with a look of suspicion in her eyes.

"Have you now?" Dacey asked. "And what do you know of fighting?"

"I've beaten up boys older than me whenever they tried to insult me," Cassana answered. "I have given bruises to men who actually decided to humour me and let me fight them, such as Ser Barristan." At that Dacey seemed to take a bit more interest in Cassana.

"Is that so?" she stated. "Well, that sounds like the sort of tale to speak of over a cup of wine." Cassana smiled at her.

"It is, though I'd much prefer to have a drink of ale or mead," she responded. At this Lady Dacey gave Cassana a smile.

"Hmm, perhaps I was wrong about you," she stated.

A few hours later everyone had sat down for dinner, and both Mormont women entered the great hall wearing dresses, much to Cassana's surprise. Despite their reputation as warriors both women looked good in dresses. Lady Maege wore an old rugged brown dress that made her look like the lady that she is, while Dacey wore a dress of brown and green. Both had also let their hair down, Maege's greying hair just going past her shoulders while Dacey's hair went further down her back. As the hall filled with music and laughter Cassana found herself with Arya and Dacey.

"So as I stalked through the woods the wildlings decided to stop and answer a call of nature," she said as she recited a story to them of how she fought wildlings. "The poor fools had only just woken up, and were not yet fully awake, so it was easy for me and my two companions to deal with them. They spread out, and so the five idiots made our job so much easier. We attacked, splitting open the heads of two of them before the other three got their weapons ready. I fought this tall bearded fool with a pair of axes on his back and a long axe in his hands. He made bold proclamations of how he was going to give me the time of my life once he killed my friends and disarmed me, but he just kept swinging at me with that axe of his. I just kept standing back from him until he got the blade of his axe stuck in a tree after he swung for my head. As he tried to free his axe I struck my mace against his skull so hard my mace had a massive dent in it." Arya giggled, sitting with her chin on both of her hands while Cassana took a swig from her cup.

"I take it you gave him one hell of a headache?" Cassana asked. Dacey smiled at her.

"Well, all I'll say is that it took me hours to get the filth and blood out of my hair," she responded. The three of them sat beside each other for a bit longer before Arya decided to leave for her bed. When she left Cassana and Dacey spoke to each other about growing up in their respective homes. As they spoke they asked for some mead to drink while speaking.

"So yeah, Ser Barristan complimented my skills after I disarmed him for the third time in a row," Cassana said as she told her about her childhood learning how to fight. Dacey laughed at the story. "Of course my mother was furious when she found out. 'Princesses don't fight' she said. And I always told her, 'If the women folk of Bear Island can fight, then so can I'." Dacey let out an unladylike laugh that made Cassana smile.

"Gods that would've been impressive to watch," Dacey said. "So, I don't suppose you would be keen to spar with me after you and Robb are married?" Cassana looked at her and gave a quick nod.

"I certainly wouldn't mind," she said. "If nothing else it would be good exercise." Dacey snorted.

"Yeah well, we'll see how good you are the day after tomorrow."

"Deal," Cassana said. This seemed to take Dacey by surprise. The Mormont woman leaned back as she raised her cup to her mouth.

"You seem rather brave, or perhaps foolish to want to match our skills against each other," Dacey stated. Cassana snorted before responding.

"You don't seem fond of us southerners," she said. Dacey's eyes widened slightly, and Cassana thought she saw her face blush a little bit, from shame or anger she did not know.

"It's not that I am not fond of southerners," she said. "I just find it hard to trust them. You saw my mother with a sword at her hip when we arrived?" Cassana nodded her head. "Well, that sword is Longclaw, House Mormont's ancestral sword. It was last held by my cousin, Ser Jorah, who brought shame to our name when he sold two poachers into slavery. He used the gold to please his wife. A slut from House Hightower." Cassana remembered hearing about the disgraced former Lord of Bear Island and what he did, but she did not know that he had been married to a Hightower. With that knowledge she now understood Dacey's earlier hostility.

"Well, I can see why you aren't trusting of us…" she began before Dacey cut her off.

"That Hightower bitch was Jorah's ruin. It's because of her that my cousin broke the laws of the North and the Seven Kingdoms. Because of her my cousin fled in disgrace, further shaming our House. He at least had the good sense to leave Longclaw behind." Cassana heard the hurt and anger in Dacey's voice as she spoke. Taking a long calming breath Cassana took Dacey's hand and gently pulled her from her thoughts.

"Don't let your first impression of us southerners get to you like that," she said. "Don't let that hate rule you. It'll destroy you otherwise." Dacey looked at Cassana for a few moments before standing up.

"I need some time alone my princess," she said before leaving the table where they had sat. As she watched the Mormont woman walk away Cassana felt that she might have said the wrong thing, and she felt awful for bringing up Dacey's painful memories.

Thinking about her first meeting with Dacey Mormont left Cassana feeling sad. In the end they did not get their sparring session, which left her feeling a little bit upset. She felt that her attempts to make a friend out of the heir to Bear Island had been wasted. As she shook her head she noticed Beth standing up, obviously finished with her prayers. They continued to walk through the godswood, chatting away before heading back to the main keep.

Cassana made her way to her and Robb's room and got changed into a thicker velvet dress to keep her warm during the evening. As she changed she looked into her wardrobe and saw her longsword sheathed in its scabbard leaning in the corner. That's one less thing that I'll be allowed to do, she thought with some bitterness. She ran her fingers over the sword's hilt before closing her wardrobe and leaving the room. She made her way down to the great hall for dinner, where she found Catelyn and Rickon sat down talking. Shaggydog padded over to Cassana and whined at her.

"Oh seven hells boy," she muttered as she stroked his fur. "You know you are nowhere near as adorable as Grey Wind is." Shaggydog gave a louder whine at her words, which made her laugh.

"Shaggydog, leave Cass be," Rickon said, stomping over to the direwolf and grabbing him by the scruff. The black furred beast would normally growl at anyone who grabbed him like that, but with Rickon he just grunted and followed his master dutifully. Cassana laughed at the sight as she resumed her walk to the table. Once she was sat down she turned to Catelyn.

"Everything go okay?" she asked quietly. Catelyn nodded as the servants put their dinner on the table before them.

"All of the numbers add up," Catelyn said. "The taxes from the outlying holdfasts have been paid properly. We just have to wait for the conflict with the Dreadfort to end and then we'll get to worrying about the other taxes soon after." Both women began to cut up their meat as their drinks were served.

"No wine for me thanks, I'll just have some water," Cassana said to the servant who was about to pour her drink for her.

"Of course milady," the servant replied before going off to find a pitcher of water.

"So, our treasury is slowly being replenished, which the taxes will go a long way to helping out. Our stockpiles of food are steady, just over half of the larders are empty, but that can be sorted now that we're in spring. So, not much to worry about, except making sure that everything stays the same," Cassana said to Catelyn while she chewed on her meat. Catelyn nodded her head as Cassana put a piece of her food into her mouth and began to chew. The food tasted normal this time, which Cassana was thankful for. The servant returned with the water and filled her cup up. "Thank you," she said to the servant.

"I admit that I am not fond of such tasks, but it helps with running the land and the castle," Catelyn said. "I do believe that more ladies should take their duties more seriously. It goes a long way to securing a House's standing I think."

"I agree," Cassana replied slowly, wondering why Catelyn was speaking of this. "I believe that there should be time to enjoy yourself, but at the same time we should always take our duties seriously. What makes you bring up such a topic at dinner?" Catelyn took a sip of her wine before setting her cup down.

"I worry for Arya," she said. "You seem to have found the right balance with yourself in regards to your interests and your duties, but Arya has always been free spirited." Cassana sat up straighter in her seat before leaning closer to Catelyn.

"You worry for her because she has always been like that and does not seem to want to change," she stated. One look at Catelyn's eyes though told Cassana that there was more to it than that. "Or are you worried because of the fact that she is now in the capitol?" Catelyn looked back to her and nodded her head.

"Yes," she answered. Cassana took a deep breath before taking another mouthful of her dinner. "I have never had to worry about Sansa so much, but Arya has always wanted to do things that you would normally associate the women of House Mormont doing." Cassana brought her cup of water to her lips to hide the slight smirk that she had. "Granted, she is not as she used to be when she was still a child yet to see her tenth nameday, but her attitude remains. She takes a dim look at marriage and the duties and responsibilities of being a lady, only seeing it as being trapped by a man who will only wish to bed her and put sons in her, as she once said."

"I do believe that Arya doesn't have that dim a view on marriage," Cassana began. "She told me and Sansa that she would marry a man who would respect her and let her be who she is. By that I'm sure she meant being with a man who would let her continue to practice with her swordsmanship and her horse riding." Catelyn looked at Cassana and shook her head ever so slightly.

"You do remember what your father said a few days after you all arrived?" she asked her. Cassana nodded after thinking about it for a minute.

"That there would be no betrothals forced upon either of them?" she asked, to which Catelyn nodded her head.

"That was agreed upon as Ned and I felt that would be the only way to persuade the girls to go south," she started. "If that little fact was not said then Arya would have raised an awful fuss and eventually she would outright refuse to travel south. It was a necessary compromise to get Arya to agree to go south. That is how things are with her. To get Arya to agree to do anything you need to make compromises, and those compromises usually end up in her favour." Cassana shrugged her shoulders before picking up a piece of meat with her fork.

"And that is a bad thing?" she asked before putting the meat into her mouth. She chewed on it as she looked at Catelyn, who looked startled at such a question.

"Compromising only gets an outcome that Arya wants," Catelyn replied. "She needs to learn that that is not how the world works, and that is why I worry for her. I fear that one day she will put herself in a position that could lead her to pain, or worse…" Catelyn trailed off, and Cassana now realised where her worries were coming from. After she finished chewing on her food Cassana clasped her hands together and rested her chin on them.

"Arya will learn that lesson Cat," she said quietly so no one would overhear them. "But I can promise you that as long as Silas and Lukas are nearby she won't learn such a lesson the way you fear she will." Catelyn looked back at her and gave her a small smile. "Anyway, in regards to the whole marriage idea, you'll be surprised at the few men that I know who would allow Arya her freedoms," she said to lead the discussion away from anything grim. Catelyn looked at her with a thoughtful look.

"And who would take a wife who loves to practice with a sword rather than do needlework?" the older woman asked.

"Well to start with, there is Joffrey's sworn shield, Sandor Clegane, who likes a woman who can fight, but of course with his age such a match would not likely happen," Cassana said, noting how Catelyn's eyes nearly bulged out of her eye sockets at the mere suggestion of Arya marrying the Hound. "Also, there is Lord Bryce Caron, who is the last of his House after a sickness claimed them during the last spring. The Carons are an old family sworn to Storms End, they hold the title Lord of the Marches, and are a prominent family, so that would make a good match, and I doubt Lord Bryce would argue with taking Arya as a wife, despite her skills with a sword." Catelyn seemed thoughtful over that suggestion. Cassana continued before Catelyn could speak. "We also have my Uncle Stannis's squire, young Devan Seaworth, who is only two years older than Arya. He is young, with nothing to inherit, but his older brothers are all married. He is good with a sword, and I do believe that he had a crush on Lady Brienne of Tarth, who is known to be quite a skilled swordswoman." Catelyn shook her head quickly at that suggestion.

"Young Devan is a son of Ser Davos Seaworth, who was born a commoner and lived for many years as a smuggler," she said. "I am not comfortable with the idea of Arya marrying someone with such a background. Lord Bryce on the other hand may be older but he is of far more noble blood than young Devan. But still, such men would have to meet Arya and judge her for themselves. Or more likely be judged by her." Cassana smirked at Catelyn's apprehension.

"There is another man I know who would not be bothered by Arya's behaviour," she said, and she noticed that Catelyn looked interested. "My brother," she said as Catelyn was bringing her cup of wine to her mouth. Catelyn's eyes widened at that and she nearly spilled her wine. Cassana smiled as she sat up straighter in her seat. "Silas would allow Arya to be her own person. Growing up with him, Silas not once tried to stop me learning how to fight, but instead encouraged me to practice, as did our father. He would give Arya such freedoms, but he would also do his utmost to make Arya understand how and why she must behave suitably."

"Yes I'm sure he would Cassana but still," Catelyn said, pausing to think on what she just heard. "Arya would not make a good queen I think." Cassana rolled her eyes at Catelyn's words.

"How many Mormont women were Queens of the North before the Targaryen Conquest?" Cassana retorted. Catelyn opened her mouth to argue but she stopped herself. Knowing that her good-mother could not think of an answer Cassana continued. "Truth be told I have no idea myself, but I'm sure that there would've been a few Mormont ladies that were married to Starks in the past, and I'm sure one or two would've been queens as well. And don't they say that the She-bears of Bear Island always learn how to fight?" Catelyn looked thoughtful for a moment before she sighed.

"Still, this is such a worry for me," she said, and Cassana wondered if her thoughts were returning to their previous discussion.

"Then do not worry over it," she said simply. "Besides, they are south of the Neck, and we are north of it. I'm sure Lord Eddard and the others will look after her." Catelyn looked at her for a time before returning to her dinner, her facial expression neutral; Cassana was hopeful that she would stop worrying over her youngest daughter.

After they had finished their dinner they all retired for the night. Cassana bid Catelyn and Rickon goodnight before walking towards her own room. She entered the room and sat down on the end of the bed, stretching her arms as she sat down and yawned. She sat there for some time before standing up and removing her dress. As she undressed she stood in front of the mirror in the corner and looked at her reflection. Her belly was a little bit larger than it was before she had come north with her family, but other than that there was no clear indication that she was pregnant. Cassana smiled to herself as she turned away from the mirror and pulled on a nightdress. Once the gown was on she climbed into bed and picked up a book that she had been reading over the last few nights from her bedside table. As much as she missed Robb she was a little bit grateful that she had some peace and quiet as it meant that she could actually read the books that she wanted to. Aside from swordplay Cassana has always loved to read, and she was not too fussy on what she wanted to read, although she did prefer history and tales of fighting and pirates, much like her cousin Shireen. She sat in the bed and lay the heavy book on her lap, her thoughts drifting to her husband. She thought about his auburn hair and beard, and how it would tickle her belly and thighs whenever he kissed her in those places that always sent jolts of pleasure through her; she thought about his blue eyes which she just loved to gaze into; she thought about the feel of his manhood when he made love to her, and the warmth she felt whenever he spilled his seed into her. She smiled as she remembered her wedding night, when Robb gave her pleasure with his mouth. That's something I'll have to do when Robb gets back, she thought with a wide grin before she opened her book.

Theon Greyjoy

Finally, some action, Theon thought to himself as he saw the eight Bolton men a dozen or so yards through the trees. It has been three days since Robb sent him off with his thirty men to scout ahead of the army that was gathering at Hornwood. Theon led his men directly north-east while Smalljon and Flint led theirs north and east respectively. Those two would lead their men for a set distance before heading in the direction of the Dreadfort. For the last three days Theon had not seen a single Bolton soldier, which had unnerved him to begin with. All they had seen was the odd village here and there, and on one occasion they came across a butchered caravan; a merchant no doubt, and his family. The man had been hung upside down, but his whole upper body had been flayed, which made Theon feel sick. The merchant had a young woman with him as well as two boys. The boys were lying in the dirt, their throats slit ear to ear, but the young woman was hanging from a tree branch with a noose around her neck. Her skin was deathly pale, with bruises showing on her arms and legs. Her light brown hair was ragged, and her lifeless eyes stared out. What was worse was that she was naked and had dried blood between her thighs, which meant only one thing. Theon had cut her down and laid her down beside the bodies of her family, and ordered the men to search the caravan's remains. As he suspected there was nothing of any value left, meaning that they had been robbed. After covering the woman's body with a torn cloak that he had found, Theon had ordered his men onwards. That had been yesterday; now they were watching a group of men as they laughed away. Theon gripped his bow and drew an arrow before he snuck forward, his men quietly advancing with him.

"… and I tell you, that little girl, fuck me was she a screamer," one of the Bolton men said, earning some laughter from his comrades. Theon's anger began to rise as he realised that he had found the men responsible for the carnage he had found yesterday.

"Aye, and nice and tight too," another said. "Just a shame that Ramsey wanted us to kill 'er instead of take 'er with us. We could do with more like that at the Dreadfort." The Bolton soldiers laughed. Theon looked at the eight men, and saw that they were all wearing the usual gambesons that were worn in the North. Three of them were stood with their spears held ready, while a fourth had his hand resting on the hilt of his sword. The other four just sat around the campfire that had given them away to Theon and his men.

"We really should get going fellas," a Bolton soldier said as Theon knocked his arrow and raised his bow, aiming for one of the spearmen.

"Nah, we're fine lad," another said before spitting out phlegm. "Ramsey told us ta stay 'ere anyway. What Ramsey tells us ta do, we do. I don't fancy going out like that poor fucker he flayed the other day, the one whose girl we all fucked bloody." As the men murmured their agreement Theon loosed off his arrow. The arrow flew towards the spearman who had wandered away from the other seven men. He was out of sight from the rest, and as Theon's arrow pierced his throat and opened his windpipe he started to fall. It was just lucky for Theon's group that one of the other Bolton men had coughed loudly when the dying man hit the ground.

"Still, I would've liked to have had her again," one man said. As they spoke Theon knocked another arrow and drew the bowstring back, this time aiming for the man resting his hand on his sword's hilt. He loosed the arrow off and watched as it sailed through the air and sank into the swordsman's eye, plunging into his brain. That man's head jerked back before his body dropped like a stone.

"What the fuck was that?" one of the surviving six said, standing up and reaching for a dagger that he had strapped to his belt. The swordsman was stood at the edge of the group by a rock, and was also out of their line of sight. Theon smiled savagely as the men began to look around in panic. One of the other spearmen held his weapon in both hands, ready to lunge at whoever showed themselves. Theon knocked a third arrow and took aim at that spearman, loosing off after adjusting his aim.

"Someone is out the…" that man began, but Theon's arrow cut him off as it hit him in the chest, piercing the gambeson before punching out the man's back, such was the distance between Theon and his third target.

"SHIT!" someone yelled before Theon's men charged in, roaring as they raised their swords. Theon moved as well, drawing another arrow just in case. He was trained with a sword, but he was always a better archer than a swordsman.

The five surviving Bolton men did not stand a chance against Theon's scouting group. Two died quickly, their bellies ruptured by multiple sword blades. The other three put up a fight, but it was a short fight; one of them managed to wound a man before he was brought down by a sword slicing his right calf as a second plunged into his chest and tore out of his back, while another hacked an axe at the shield of one of Theon's men and was cut in half across his belly, his guts spraying violently across the ground. When only one man was left he found himself facing many Stark men. Theon smirked as he emerged from the trees that he had been hiding within. The man threw his sword down, turned around and bolted away from them, which Theon was expecting him to do. He drew his arrow back and aimed for his leg, and then he loosed his arrow. A moment later the man screamed like a stuck pig as Theon's shot proved true; the arrow had embedded itself into the back of the man's thigh.

"Good shot Greyjoy," one of his men said to him. Theon ran to the wounded Bolton man who had now dropped to his knees, moaning in pain as blood dribbled from the wound.

"That looks uncomfortable," Theon quipped as he stepped in front of the man, who glared up at him.

"Go fuck yourself you Stark loving cunt," he responded. Theon shook his head.

"Now that's not very polite, is it?" he stated in a mocking tone. "Anyway, if you want to live, you had better tell me how to get into the Dreadfort." The man laughed before spitting at Theon's boot.

"I SAID GO FUCK YOURSELF YOU…" he was interrupted when Theon punched him in the face. The man spat out a loosened tooth mixed with phlegm and blood.

"I heard you the first time," Theon said. "Dreadfort. How to get into. Secret entrances. Escape passages. Need to know. Now." The man glared at Theon before spitting into his face. Theon wiped the blood and muck away before kicking him in the gut. "Do I have to rip your fucking balls off you raping shit?" Theon yelled. Other men were now gathered.

"Let's just finish him off Greyjoy," one of Theon's men said. "The man won't talk no matter what you do or say." Theon looked at the man before looking back down at the wounded Bolton soldier. The scum grinned at him, blood staining his teeth.

"We'll kill him in a minute," Theon said. "But first, we geld him." Theon pulled out his dagger and pointed it at the man. "Hold him down and pull his breeches off," he said to the men. A couple of them looked at each other, unsure of what to do. When Theon glared at them they grabbed the man and held him still while two others pulled his breeches down. Realising that he was not making an empty threat the man started to panic.

"Wait, wait WAIT!" he cried out. Theon pulled the man's breeches all the way down, snapping off the shaft of his arrow as he did, which made the man cry out in pain.

"No, you had your chance," he said as he brought his dagger to the man's member.

"I KNOW OF A PASSAGE!" the man quickly shouted, which halted Theon. He looked up at the man and pulled his dagger away from him.

"Go on," he said. The man squirmed as Theon's men released him.

"When you approach the Dreadfort's main gate, send men around to the opposite side of the castle," he began. "The wall on the opposite side of the gate, there you'll find an old disused gate. Face away from the Dreadfort and go into the woods in that direction. Walk for thirty yards then turn north and walk until you come across an old burnt down shack. Face the Dreadfort and then walk for twenty yards, then you'll see some rocks. There you'll find an old wooden trap door, that opens up to lead you into an old passage that leads into the Dreadfort's old torture chambers. I've used it several times to…" The man trailed off then. Theon leaned in and prodded the man with his dagger.

"Yes, to do what?" he asked. The man gulped.

"To drag out the bodies of women that Ramsey has had his fun with," he said. Theon looked away from the man and stood up, sheathing his dagger. He took a deep breath and then he turned to face one of the men under his command, an ugly fellow called Bert.

"Bert, take five men and take this man to Lord Robb," he said to him. "Keep the shit alive and make sure he tells Robb and the other lords what he has just told us. Should any of his friends come running along, kill him. Otherwise Robb will decide what to do with him after he has told him of this passage." Bert nodded his head.

"Got it Greyjoy," he said. "I'll get 'im back to Lord Stark in one piece. Well, so long as he don't give me a reason to stick me sword up 'is arse." Theon looked back down to the man.

"You hear that cur? You're going to be taken to Lord Stark, and you will tell him what you just told us. Understood?" The man nodded his head as he pulled his breeches back up. After a moment he was stood up by some of the others and put in irons. Bert got his men ready and made ready to leave. Theon grabbed his arm before he walked off. "If he dies or you have to kill him, go to Lord Robb anyway and let him know what he told us." Bert nodded his head.

"Don't ye worry laddie," he said. "I've done this sort of thing before. I'll get us back there soon, you just worry about keeping that kinslaying bugger occupied."

After a few minutes spent wrapping a makeshift bandage around the man's wounded leg Bert and his small group left with their horses, guiding the prisoner along with them. Theon turned to his men and got them to rest up. They spent the night at the Bolton campsite, some men sleeping while others took watch. The following morning the scouting party rose up and began to pack up their supplies. As they did Theon sat down with a couple of the men who were appointed as Theon's second-in-command's. The three of them planned their next moves, deciding where to go and what route to take. After they were done talking Theon stood up and walked into the woods to relieve himself. He was there for a couple of minutes when he heard a twig snap behind him.

"Can't a man piss in peace?" he snapped. As he turned around he saw an object meet his face, and then everything went black.

When Theon came to he felt heavy iron manacles around his wrists. He shook his head to clear the distant buzzing sounds that he heard, and his head felt like it was going to burst. When he looked up he saw his men were all either lying dead or being tortured to death by Bolton men, of which there were dozens. The enemy stood around him, all glaring down at him. Theon heard someone screaming in pain just ahead of him. He looked up and saw a man with his back to him, and in front of that man was another who was screaming. It was one of Theon's men, and when the torturer stepped away Theon saw the bloody mess that was his chest. The man was being flayed. The torturer walked over to Theon, turning to face one of his men.

"Throw some salt at his chest," he said. The man gleefully did as he was ordered, and Theon's man screamed louder. "So, the Young Wolf sends out a scout party to make his trip to my home secure and safe. Well, it's not so safe is it?" the man said. In that moment Theon realises who has captured him. "So, Robb fucking Stark sends twenty-five men to scout ahead of his forces, but he sends his father's ward to lead them. That was pretty stupid of him, wouldn't you agree Theon Greyjoy," the bastard says with a sick smile. Theon looks up at him. "I must say that I expected more than this sorry lot, but well. What can you do?" Ramsey Snow gave a sickening laugh as Theon looked away. As he was held there he realised that Ramsey was speaking of twenty-five men and not thirty. Theon smirked despite the situation he was in, realising that Bert and his group have not been found.

"Ramsey," a voice called out. Theon turned to face the source of the shout and saw a tall man walking over. "We just found some tracks in the snow heading in the direction of Hornwood. About half a dozen or so. Should we send some men after them?" Theon felt a lump form in his throat. He hoped that Bert would not stop more than necessary in travelling to Robb. If Ramsey's men caught them then the knowledge of the passage would not be given to Robb. Theon looked back up at Ramsey and noticed that he was looking right at him. The bastard was smirking at him.

"No, don't bother," he said slowly. "Let them come to us. We can deal with anything they send our way." Theon was a little bit relieved at that, but it still shocked him how arrogant Ramsey Snow was. He thinks he's invincible. He thinks he can survive the wrath of the North which is now firmly against him. He's a mad man, Theon thinks to himself. "Oh you think I am just sitting around waiting for my death. No," Ramsey said as he walked closer to him. He leant down and then whispered into his ear. "I don't care if the Dreadfort falls. I'll be out of there and on my way to Winterfell when that old castle falls. And when I do I'll claim my real prize; Cassana Baratheon. Or Stark if you prefer. If she's as good as they say I'll even keep her from the hundred men that I'll be taking with me to take Winterfell." Theon's eyes widened with horror at that statement.

"You'll never take Winterfell Snow," Theon said as the bastard stood up from him. "It's impossible." Ramsey smiled at Theon.

"Why do you think I kept you alive?" he said in that sickening sadistic voice of his.

"You'll never make me talk bastard," Theon spat out. At that Ramsey's face contorted into a look of anger and then he punched Theon in the face. Theon tasted blood in his mouth as his head was viciously pulled up. Ramsey Snow glared at him for a few moments before that sick smile was back.

"Oh you will talk," he said. "And squeal, and beg, and whine and whimper. But in the end you will talk. Everyone does."

AN: Hmm, things got pretty bad here for poor Theon. What, you didn't think I was going to be nice to him here, did you? Oh, you did? Oh, ummm (stepping away as quickly as possible to avoid the wrath of the Theon fangirls).

Next chapter we will get a look at what is going on with Slynt and co. Also Robb and his allies will arrive at the Dreadfort. The battle will not be until the chapter after next one (at the earliest, I may end up doing another chapter away from the North, we'll see what happens).

Until next time people.