A/N: Sorry this took so long. Real life has been crazy and with the new house, I haven't had too much time to write. I hope you guys enjoy the update and I look forward to any comments you may have.

MA: Violence, Profanity, and Sex

Chapter 4: Welcome to Winterfell...Lady Stark

276: Winterfell(Lord's Tower):

As he made his way down the corridor of the Lord's Tower, Hotto couldn't help but marvel at the changes made to Winterfell. Five years ago, when he left the North to join Ned at the Eyrie, he left behind the only home he ever knew. At the time, the seat of House Stark was only a shell of the vision Brandon Stark once imagined for it. Now that the mighty Castle was finally finished, it looked far better than he could ever have thought possible.

Hotto was pulled from his musings when we heard someone call out his name. At the second call, he turned around to find Ned quickly making his way towards him. At five and ten the 5'9" youth already looked a man grown. Over the years his resemblance to his older brother had become significantly subdued. Where once he looked like Brandon reborn, now the lad had features that were distinctly all his own.

In many ways, the younger Stark had a thirst for knowledge that surpassed even that of his older brother. Though he was only one of the many teachers Ned had at the Eyrie, over the years Hotto had been impressed with the boy's dedication and hard work. Be it training in the yards, learning from Lord Arryn, or even assimilating the knowledge that Hotto personally received from Brandon during his own training with the Wolf Guard, not once did the boy complain or shirk from his duties. Physically, the results of his diligence were evident in Ned's most recent spars with his best friend, Robert Baratheon.

At 6'0" even, the Baratheon heir was a large boy with a boisterous personality that was on par with Hotto's brother in all but blood, Greatjon Umber. Robert's weapon of choice was a warhammer and with his prodigious strength, it was a weapon he was able to wield with devastating results. At first, the spars between Ned and Robert were always one-sided. Despite Lord Arryn's allowance of Hotto's presence at the Eyrie, the man refused to let Ned spar with the Ilysis Abra. He insisted on the little wolf learning the traditional sword forms from the Eyrie's Master at Arms and using that fighting style when sparring in the training yards.

After five years of back-breaking hard work, Ned finally mastered both the traditional Westerosi sword forms, as well as the katas associated with the Ilysis Abra. As far as Hotto was concerned, while Ned was talented with the Westerosi style, he was without a doubt gifted in the use of the Ilysis Abra. Once the Eyrie's Master at Arms acknowledged Ned's skills as a swordsman, this year Lord Arryn finally relented in letting his ward use whatever style he desired in the training yards.

Over the past six moons, the spars between the Baratheon and Stark heirs took a drastic turn in regards to the victor. Where previously their battles were close, but always ended in Robert's favor, with the use of the Ilysis Abra the reverse now holds true for Ned.

Due to Robert's greater size and strength, the hack and slash nature of the Westerosi sword forms always gave him an edge over Ned's shorter and leaner frame. The Ilysis Abra took away that advantage. With Ned no longer being forced to parry every attack with his blade, the new style allowed him to use his innate speed to overwhelm his opponent.

The sudden reversal of fortune left Lord Arryn shocked by the change and Robert enraged by the outcome. Though in the case of the latter, Hotto was pleased that Ned's victories didn't deter the strong bonds of friendship and brotherhood that had formed between him and the Baratheon heir. Instead, his continuous losses forced Robert to work harder and longer in the training yards, a fact that pleased Jon Arryn greatly, especially given Robert's recent penchant for drinking and whoring.

When he saw Ned patiently waiting for him to answer, Hotto smiled at the boy he'd come to see as a little brother and asked, "What can I do for you, little Wolf?

Where once he would have complained at being called by such a name, now Ned just rolled his eyes at the given epithet."I'm sorry to bother you, Hotto, but have you had a chance to read through the notes Brandon left for us?"

The Wolf Guard Captain wasn't the least bit surprised to see the same bundle of notes in Ned's hands, that he held in his own. Throughout their time at the Eyrie, Brandon was insistent on his brother knowing as much as possible about the various changes that were going on in the North, especially when it came to Black Harbor and Moat Cailin. As the second oldest of the Stark children, when he eventually completed his fostering at the Eyrie, Ned would have to choose which one of the new holdfasts he would become the Lord of upon his return.

"Aye, I have, little lord," Hotto answered with a nod of his head. "What troubles you about them?"

"If you haven't eaten yet, would you mind breaking your fast with me and answering some of the questions that I have?"

Once Hotto nodded his head in agreement, the pair made their way towards the private dining hall in the tower that was set aside for the Stark family and their personal guests. Upon their arrival, the pair took a seat and instructed a server to bring them a meal.

While he waited for Ned to finish placing his order with the server, Hotto quickly flipped through his copy of the notes Brandon left for him to peruse. Years ago, when the Starks first gifted the majority of their vassals with new trade items, his best friend and sworn Lord was adamant on finding something to help all of the Houses that he was unable to at the time.

Over the past six years, Brandon held true to his word and found a way to enrich most of the remaining Houses on his list. For House Tallhart of Torrhen's Square, he brought in Sugarcane and Sugar beets from a merchant that discovered both crops off the coast of Sothoryos. This, in turn, allowed them to become the major supplier of sugar for the whole of the North. Given enough time, Brandon was certain that the Tallharts would be able to produce enough high-quality sugar to easily provide for the rest of Westeros as well.

Meanwhile, the young wolf helped House Cassel open several distilleries to make Whiskey, Rum, and Vodka on their new lands, while also helping House Forrester start a half dozen breweries for the new Beers and Ales he created on their behalf. According to Brandon's notes, until now trade outside of the North had been limited to Braavos. Based on how well the Braavosi enjoyed the various beverages each House now produced, once trade opened up to the South and the rest of Essos, Hotto had no doubt that both Houses would fill their coffers like never before.

A few years back, upon the return of Brandon's Qartheen friend from his second trip to the lands of Yi Ti, House Cerwyn was gifted with a new crop called Potatoes, as well as several types of beans for them to grow. While the former's new appeal certainly helped House Cerwyn fill their coffers aplenty, as far as Hotto was concerned the latter crop was far more essential to the survival of Westeros as a whole during Winter. Already considered one of the staple foods in both the North and the South, when properly stored, beans could last for several years without going bad. This was particularly important for the North since Winters for them were far worse than the rest of the Seven Kingdoms combined and being able to grow anything outside of a glass garden was almost impossible during that time.

Unfortunately, in regards to House Mormont of Bear Island, Brandon was still uncertain how he could help them flourish like the rest of his vassals. One of the oldest and proudest Houses in the North, they were also one of the poorest vassals sworn to House Stark. The seat of House Mormont was little more than a wood-walled castle with a smoky keep. While the lands attached to the island were vast and larger in size than any other Lord could claim in the entirety of the North, sadly little of it was fertile enough to grow anything of substance. The Islanders mostly survived by hunting the small game that could be found in their forests and fishing in the crude boats that they built for themselves.

In years past, they made an ideal target for Ironborn raiders hoping to find salt wives to take back with them to the Iron Isles. Though the new Northern Navy now prevented any further incursions upon Mormont lands, Hotto knew how much it pained Brandon not to be able to help such a loyal House prosper.

After the departure of Brandon's Qartheen friend for the second time, without any goods to give to House Mormont, Brandon instead gifted them with a dozen properly made fishing boats and even offered to rebuild Mormont Keep with stone. Despite their hurt pride over the obvious handout, in his final act before taking the Black, Lord Jeor Mormont reluctantly agreed to the proposal, knowing how much it would help his people during the long Winters. With both Winterfell and Winter Town now complete, according to the notes Hotto had gone through, Brandon was finally able to keep his promise to the Mormonts by sending two shiploads worth of workers to build their new keep.

When Hotto saw that Ned had finished ordering his meal, he looked at him and asked, "Now, what questions do you have for me, little Wolf?"

Ned leaned back into his chair and took a quick sip of the lemon flavored water the server left for him. "I've gone through my brother's notes and for the most part they show how well the various Houses have been doing with the goods we gifted them a few years back. What surprises me is the amount of money being set aside for House Hornwood."

Hotto arched an eyebrow and replied, "What seems to be the problem, lad? Your brother's notes are quite clear on the matter."

Ned didn't answer straight away. Despite what other Lords in the South or even the North may think, Ned agreed wholeheartedly with his brother in bringing knowledge to the masses. The various changes brought to the North were not only due to Brandon's ideas but also because of the numerous small folk that were educated by the craftsman that were bought and freed by his brother so long ago. The surge of new ideas and men capable of implementing them was instrumental in making the North what it is today. What baffled the young Wolf was the amount of money being spent to create the new school on the lands of House Hornwood.

"They were, but it doesn't explain why we are spending so much gold on the new school. Between Winter Town, Moat Cailin, and Black Harbor, the North already has three schools that provide free education for the small folk. What makes the school for House Hornwood so special?"

"I don't know, lad, you tell me."

Ned groaned softly at the reply. Ever since his arrival at the Eyrie, unlike his conversations with Lord Arryn, Hotto rarely answered any of his questions directly. According to the man, as a future Lord, it was imperative for Ned to learn how to analyze and come up with a solution to a problem for himself. As helpful as a Maester or another adviser may be in the future, in the end, it was the Lord's responsibility to do what was best for his people. As such, it was necessary for Ned to learn how to think through each and every problem for himself.

As he leaned back into his chair, Ned thought through everything he knew about the House in question. Led by Lord Halys Hornwood, the forested lands attached to the House were located Southwest of the Dreadfort and Northeast of White Harbor. Their access to natural resources was second only to the Karstark forests in the North, which meant though they were not considered to be a rich House, the Hornwoods were far from poor. The only other thing of note that Ned could recall was that a distributary of the Broken Branch river flows directly into Hornwood lands.

It was at this point that Ned had an epiphany. As a result of the numerous Geography lessons he once considered to be monotonous and boring, the young Wolf quickly realized the similarities between Oldtown's location to the Honeywine river and Castle Hornwood's proximity to the Broken Branch. Since Brandon intended to open a new school here, it was easy for Ned to imagine what his brother's intentions now were.

"Brandon plans on creating a new Citadel for the North," he stated in awe.

Hotto smiled proudly at his young ward and nodded his head in agreement. "That he does, lad," the Dothraki answered. "A complete copy of Winterfell's library will be sent to the Hornwoods once the school is complete, as well as the blueprints for the Printing Press and several trained small folk to work the machine. Your father has also given Lord Hornwood his word that House Stark will utilize Winterfell's press for personal use only. "

This time it was Ned's turn to nod his head. The Printing Press would be a great boon for the North's version of the Citadel. With the massive forest the Hornwood's had access to, it would be an ideal source for the production of paper the press would need to work properly. Despite this new revelation, Ned was still bothered by the costs of this school. Even if Brandon intended to recreate the Citadel on Hornwood lands, the gold set aside for the project was still triple the amount needed to build such a place.

The paper mill Brandon constructed at Wolfswood Port for Winterfell's press was easy to build and required very little effort and money to maintain. So Ned couldn't attribute the majority of the excess gold set aside for House Hornwood to the new mill they would need to supply their own printing press.

"But the numbers are still wrong, Hotto," he stated confidently. "Even if Brandon intended to build a tower that was twice as grand as the one in Oldtown, the Hornwoods still wouldn't need the amount of gold my brother is giving to them. Where is the rest of the money going?"

The former Dothraki slave couldn't help but be pleased with his surrogate brother's critical thinking. With Lord Arryn being forced to split his time equally between Robert and Ned, over the past five years Hotto personally pushed the little wolf to use his mind to solve every problem that he faced. And now the fruits of his labor were evident for anyone to see. Regardless of the task Ned was given, his thoroughness in thinking through every scenario he could be confronted with usually ensured he was prepared for almost any given situation. Unfortunately, this wasn't one of those times.

"Tell me, Ned, what makes you think your brother wants to build a new tower?"

"Because the Citadel is a large tower," Ned replied hesitantly.

"While that may be true, your assumption that Brandon wants to build a replica of the Citadel is incorrect. It's the idea behind the place that he wants to recreate."

"I don't understand."

Hotto took a moment to gather his thoughts and said, "Think of the Citadel as a repository of knowledge that is used to train future researchers, historians, and advisors to men of power. Though the work that they do is important, the benefits of all their wisdom are available only to a select few. The school your brother wants to build is intended to give every man or woman that desires it, a chance at a better life."

When he saw Ned's face scrunch up in confusion, Hotto tried a more direct method to help him understand his brother's goal. "Outside of learning their letters and numbers, what do you think would help the average man have a chance at a better life?"

Ned wracked his brain to understand the lesson he was being taught. As far as he knew small folk were the same regardless of where they lived. They worked long hours for little pay and most of them were content with the meager means by which they got by. The only time he'd seen a non-Noble with a decent amount of coin was a Knight or...and that's when the answer hit him.

"The Hornwood school is going to teach the small folk a new trade."

"Well done, little wolf," the Dothraki replied with a teasing smile. "You are correct. It's good to see that you're finally beginning to use the head on your shoulders. Soon enough, you may even start using the one between your legs."

A faint hint of a blush passed across Ned's face and he rolled his eyes at Hotto's crass words. It was bad enough that Robert kept pressuring him to visit the brothels near the Eyrie, he didn't need his surrogate older brother doing the same. "Do you know how big this school is going to be?," he asked curiously.

Hotto nodded his head and answered, "I spoke last night to the foreman your brother assigned to the new school and according to him, it will take up around twenty-four acres of Hornwood lands once it's complete."

When the Wolf-Guard Captain saw the stunned look appear on his young ward's face, he explained, "After twenty long years of construction, there are many men and women that are too old to continue with the plans your father and brother have in mind for the North. When he realized how great a loss these people would be, Brandon decided to hire many of them as teachers at the Hornwood school. Their knowledge, experience and wisdom would be instrumental in providing the younger generation the skills House Stark will need for them to know in the future."

Despite his initial shock over his brother's plans for House Hornwood, Ned was quick to see the benefits this school could have for the North. Skilled craftsmen were a rare commodity regardless of where you lived on Planetos. Most Masters only took a handful of apprentices throughout their life, though sadly, in many cases these spots were often given for nepotic reasons. This usually meant that those who were actually deserving of the apprenticeship were often relegated to being assistants, their talents often overlooked or in some cases even wasted. The Hornwood school would be able to provide these talented individuals a chance to properly harness their God's given gifts.

"I see," Ned replied hesitantly, suddenly unsure of how the North would be able to afford the massive costs attached to this endeavor. The three schools currently under Stark control already made it mandatory for children between the ages of five and twelve that lived in one of those holdfasts, to attend school for a set number of hours each day. However, there were millions of small folk that lived in the North and if even a small fraction of them decided to take up the opportunity the Hornwood school had to offer, Ned couldn't see House Stark being able to pay for all of them.

"How will the small folk pay for this education? I seriously doubt my brother or Lord Hornwood could afford to take up the cost on their behalf."

Hotto shook his head in answer and said, "That's where you're wrong, lad. In return for giving House Hornwood the plans for the printing press, your father and Lord Hornwood agreed to split half the cost for each person that attended the school, while providing them with a loan for the remainder of the fees. Once the individual completed their training, they would then be assigned to a chosen job for a period of fifteen years. During that time a fraction of their future earnings would be deducted to pay off the remaining debt, with the returning money being split equally between House Stark and House Hornwood. This way all of the Houses in the North could reap the benefits of these craftsmen, while still giving the person a chance to earn more coin than they would as a simple farmer or laborer."

Ned took a moment to think through the idea and soon enough he found it to be a sound one. With House Stark paying for the creation of the new school, once trade officially opened up between the North and the rest of Westeros and Essos, House Hornwood would make quite a bit of money from the press alone. When you add in the coin they could charge for access to the library the Starks will give to them and half the monies they would receive from the loans being paid off by the graduated small folk, it was clear why Lord Hornwood would so readily agree to the deal.

"I assume Brandon has a plan for the craftsman that don't end up teaching at the school?"

Hotto nodded his head in answer, as he was once again pleased with his surrogate brother's thought process. "Aye, lad," he replied. "Your father and brother believe the North has the men and resources to one day rival Myr as a center for art, jewelry, fashion, and glass. If they agree to move to Widow's Watch, any of the craftsmen that don't want to teach at the new school will be offered a small loan to open up a new business there."

Ned couldn't help but grin at the suggested plan. Much like with The Citadel and Castle Hornwood, the similarities between Widow's Watch and Myr were plain for him to see. Both of them were port cities that were perfectly situated to facilitate trade and if Brandon's idea held true, the North would only get stronger in the future.

Thanks to his brother's recreation and then improvement of Myrish glass techniques, Ned knew that the Northern glass workers were already better than their Myrish counterparts when it came to producing mirrors and spy glasses. With Winterfell's recent production of high-quality silk, given a little time and support for the soon to be burgeoning artists and craftsman the Hornwood school would produce, the young wolf could easily imagine what Widow's Watch would become in a few years.

The fleeting joy Ned felt over his homeland's prosperity was quickly tempered by the sudden reminder of his true reason for wanting to speak to Hotto. While the monetary discrepancy associated with the new school did alarm him, it was only an excuse for what he really wanted to ask his surrogate older brother. Since his return to Winterfell a few days ago, Ned was far more concerned with another of his brother's actions.

"Hotto...is my brother planning for a war?"

The Dothraki blinked in surprise at the question, and then let loose a bellowing laugh. "Why by the gods would you think such a thing, lad?"

The young wolf shrugged his shoulders in reply. "Where once House Stark could boast five thousand men at arms, now Winterfell, Black Harbor, Moat Cailin, and the Golden Fang can all make such a claim. When you add in the fifteen hundred men split between Wolfwood port and the Twin Tails, as well as the thousands of men we currently have amongst the SeaWolves, House Stark alone can match the combined number of men the rest of the Noble houses in the North can muster together. If not war, what else am I to think?"

Even if he didn't agree with Ned's conclusion, for yet another time that day, Hotto couldn't help but feel pride at the growth of the young man before him. "Your words may be true, lad, but the thought behind them is incorrect."

"I don't understand."

"Before the changes Brandon brought to the North, the men at arms for House Stark only needed to protect Winterfell. The five new holdfasts under your family's direct control simply require more men to guard them. The same holds true for the men that now make up the new Northern Navy."

Once he took a moment to think about it, Ned realized Hotto was right. While it's true that House Stark's forces were now incredibly large, individually each new holdfast under Stark control required that many men to protect them. Especially given how big Winterfell, Black Harbor, Moat Cailin, and the Golden Fang were said to be.

"But why are the training centers still active then?," he asked curiously. "Don't we already have enough men at arms for each holdfast?"

"The answer to that question is threefold," Hotto replied. "First, with the wedding between your brother and Lady Dayne soon to occur, your father believes it's time for the North to come out of hiding and open up trade with the Southern Kingdoms, as well as Essos. The extra men will be necessary to protect the numerous goods the North will be sending out by land and sea."

When he saw Ned nod his head in agreement, Hotto continued, "Second, a soldier's life is not an easy one. Between bandits, pirates and greedy merchants, there is no guarantee that every man we send out of the North will return to us unharmed or alive. The men at arms currently under your House's banner are not common in any way. Each and every one of them have spent years honing their minds and bodies to become as skilled as they are, and replacing any of these men or women will not be an easy task. The training centers are still active, because it's better to have skilled soldiers and not need them, than to need them and not have them."

Once again Ned took the time to think through his surrogate brother's words and he quickly realized the ever-present necessity of the training centers at Moat Cailin and Black Harbor.

"The third reason is not something you will find in any of the notes Brandon left for you. As of now, only your brother, your father and I know of Brandon's plans for the additional men at arms. The only reason you weren't made aware of this earlier, is because your brother thought of it long before you were fostered at the Eyrie."

His curiosity piqued, Ned asked, "Will you tell me now?"

Though his liege Lord hadn't given him permission to do so, Hotto knew Ned was both mature enough to keep the secret and intelligent enough to understand the value behind his older brother's future plan. Given Ned's status as the spare heir of Winterfell, the former slave didn't believe either Brandon or Rickard would be upset with him for telling Ned of their intentions.

"Aye, lad," Hotto answered. "I will. For many years your brother has wanted to do this, but up until recently the North wasn't strong enough to support such a venture. Now that most of the planned construction is complete, and your father's loyal bannerman taken care of with the gifts they've received from your House in recent years, Brandon intends to negotiate with the Lord Commander of the Night's Watch to reclaim the New Gift."

Ned's eyes widened at the news. Eight thousand years ago, when the Night's Watch was first created, the progenitor of House Stark, Bran the Builder, gave to them a gift of land for their sustenance and support. Commonly known as Bran's Gift, these fertile lands stretched seventy-five miles South of the Wall and allowed the Watch to draw upon a steady supply of food, livestock, and firewood for their use.

A little over two hundred years ago, Queen Alysanne Targaryen flew to Castle Black on top of her majestic dragon, Silverwing. At the time she had been so enamored with the honor and courage of the Black brothers, that upon her return to King's Landing she urged her husband to award the Night's Watch lands which became known as the New Gift. Matching the original Gift in size, the loss of an additional seventy-five miles of some of the most fertile lands under their control was a huge blow for House Stark, one that was felt by all of the North for decades to come.

Unfortunately, reclaiming those lands was easier said than done. Though they were technically a part of the North, since their conception the militant order had been autonomous for thousands of years. When the Targaryens conquered all of Westeros, the Night's Watch was allowed to remain semi-autonomous in exchange for swearing neutrality in any conflict within the Seven Kingdoms. This neutrality also granted the Lord Commander of the Watch the right to rule the Black brothers and the lands under their control, as he saw fit.

"How is that possible, Hotto?," Ned asked, his voice laced with both excitement and fear. "And can we even legally reclaim those lands?"

The former Dothraki slave took a moment to gather his thoughts, before replying, "Legally the lands fall under the dominion of the Lord Commander and he can do with them as he sees fit. Due to the semi-autonomous nature of the Night's Watch, much like with any Lord Paramount in the Seven Kingdoms, the Commander can disperse the lands under his control however he should choose. So long as the new owner abides by the laws of the land and swears allegiance to the Iron Throne, there isn't any reason for the King to interfere with the Lord Commander's decision."

"I see," Ned replied, though he was still uncertain how his brother would be able to reclaim the New Gift. "And how does Brandon intend to convince the Lord Commander to return these lands to our House?"

"By giving the Night's Watch the means to support themselves once again," Hotto answered with a smirk.

As soon as he saw the confused expression appear on Ned's face, Hotto explained, "In times past the Night's Watch stood ten thousand strong and it was filled with honorable men who willingly chose to protect the realm from the Wildlings that lived across the Wall. Now, the order barely has a thousand men, many of whom are old men or criminals who are forced to be there in order to save their own lives. The drastic reduction in their numbers has resulted in numerous successful raids against the villages that once resided in the Gift and New Gift. With the Watch's inability to properly protect the smallfolk on their lands, the majority of people that lived there fled south to safety."

"But how does that help us?," Ned asked hesitantly. "Even if they do swear into his service, Bran can't force a man to join the Watch, especially if he hasn't committed a crime."

"While that may be true, if the Lord Commander agrees, your brother can lend him men on a temporary basis," Hotto answered. "In return for the New Gift, Brandon and your father are prepared to equip the Watch with new Castle forged steel, fix any of the nineteen castles on the Wall that are in disrepair and manage the original Gift on their behalf, without any pay. On top of that, they are willing to provide a thousand men each from Winterfell, Black Harbor, and Moat Cailin for a period of six moons, with a fresh three thousand to replace them on a regular rotation."

For yet another time that day, Ned found himself shocked by his older brother's plans. "Should the Lord Commander agree to Bran's proposal, will the New Gift remain under House Stark?"

Hotto shook his head in answer. "No. Both your brother and father agree the Starks already have too much land under their direct control. So far none of your vassals have complained about this discrepancy and they believe it's best to do with these lands as they did with Martyn Cassel. As of now, they intend to elevate someone trustworthy to Noble status and have them manage both the Gift and New Gift on their behalf. Should the Lord Commander agree to the deal, the next batch of men to graduate from the Wolf Guard will be assigned as the men at arms of the new Lord."

The longer Ned thought about the proposal, the more he found himself liking it. Not only would the Watch benefit greatly from this deal, but the return of the New Gift would also be a huge boon for House Stark. In comparison to the nearly rotted food House Stark was forced to purchase from the Tyrells, so far the lands attached to the Wolfswood port had done an admirable job in sustaining the North, but much of that food had already been used to keep the workers fed during these past twenty years of construction. With the ever-present threat of Winter always a concern, the fertile lands of the New Gift would be instrumental in ensuring not a single soul would starve during that time.

As an added benefit, the loan of Stark men on the Wall would provide these soldiers with much-needed experience in battle. Their presence, in turn, should help the Lord Commander keep in line the criminal element that can be found in the Watch, while also giving those same men a chance to better themselves with Wolf Guard training and discipline. When all of this was combined with the men at arms that would accompany the yet to be named Lord of the land, Ned was certain the Wilding raids that slipped around the Wall would be considerably deterred.

276: Highgarden(Olenna's Solar):

At eight and forty, the 5'9" Olenna Tyrell was known all throughout the Seven Kingdoms as the Queen of Thorns. The eldest daughter of Runceford Redwyne, in her youth she was considered to be only a modest beauty but made up for that lack with a mind that could match wits and cunning with the likes of anyone in Westeros.

Unlike the rest of her peers who yearned to one day marry a Dragon, Olenna was not pleased with her betrothal to Prince Daeron Targaryen shortly after her ninth Name-day. Her feelings on the matter were only further reinforced the first time she lay eyes upon her silver-haired intended. A sword swallower through and through, within moments of their meeting, Olenna decided she would do everything in her power to make sure their marriage never came to fruition.

The Gods must have listened to her pleas, because mere days after her eighteenth Name-day, the Prince himself broke off their engagement. With her freedom from the queer Dragon now assured, Olenna immediately set her sights on her sister's betrothed, Luthor Tyrell.

At 6'1" the Lord of House Tyrell was a tall man with broad shoulders and a trim waist. His neatly cropped beard and piercing brown eyes gave him a regal appearance that endeared him to Olenna almost instantly. Well known throughout the Seven Kingdoms as a capable warrior, Luthor Tyrell was the perfect choice to help the future Queen of Thorns rise to power.

The night before he was to officially propose to her younger sister, Voila, Olenna conveniently stumbled upon the room that Luthor was staying in and proceeded to milk his cock dry all through the night. By the time morning came, the young Lord was so exhausted from her efforts that he lacked the strength to walk downstairs and go through with the proposal. His thoughts were so thoroughly confounded by Olenna's seduction, that half a moon later she became his wife.

From the day she took her place as the Lady of House Tyrell, Olenna made herself indispensable to her new husband. Though not an unintelligent man, Luthor was quick to realize that his new wife's intellect far surpassed his own and often sought out her advice when dealing with his many Vassals. Between Luthor's intimidating presence and her ruthless ambition, the duo made such a formidable pair that House Tyrell's fortunes grew like never before.

Throughout their years as husband and wife, Olenna ensured Luthor's loyalty through copious use of her mouth and cunt. Despite the presence of numerous women far prettier than her at Highgarden, she was able to satiate her husband's every carnal desire, to the point that he never sheathed his cock in any cunt but her own. The Lady Tyrell took great pride in knowing that the only children her lover ever conceived, were those that were born solely from her womb.

While it's true that she never loved her husband, during their time together Olenna did grow very fond of the man. Though oafish at times and quick to anger, she never once doubted that he loved her with all of his heart. As an added bonus, Luthor was a formidable lover whose endurance kept her own needs quenched on a nearly nightly basis. Between his skills in the bedroom and his willingness to heed her advice outside of it, Olenna loved every moment of her life as a Tyrell.

The passing of her husband in a freakish hawking accident, hurt the Queen of Thorns far more than she would ever admit to a living soul. In many ways Luthor became a friend and confidant that she never thought to have in the man she would marry and his death forced her to realize how much she truly cared for him.

Sadly, those sentiments didn't last for long. With her son Mace's ascension to Lord Paramount of the Reach, Olenna was forced to spend her time curtailing the boy's idiocy at every turn. Where Luthor was intelligent enough to realize when he needed help, Mace thought himself far smarter than he actually was. To make matters worse, unlike his father, her son was prone to making decisions without first asking for her guidance. A fact that already caused several problems during his short reign.

Olenna was broken from her reverie at the sound of a knock on her parlor door. "Come in," she called out.

The door opened to the arrival of her oafish and often times incompetent son. If not for the fact that she'd never spread her legs for a man other than Luthor, based on his recent actions, the mere sight of her eldest child would have made her question the source of his parentage.

At one and twenty, the 6'0" man before her, looked like a mocking caricature of his father. Though similar in appearance to her late husband, her son's hair was long and unkempt, whereas Luthor's was short and neatly trimmed. Unlike his father's piercing gaze, Mace's brown orbs were dull and lackluster. His slightly rotund face and belly showed he'd been spending more time at the dinner table than he did in the training yards, a stark contrast from his father's warrior-like frame at the time of his death. Even his beardless face gave him the impression of a boorish boy, compared to the regal appearance Luthor once portrayed.

When she saw her fool of a son saunter up to her desk without a care in the world, it took all of her self control not to throw the goblet of wine she held in her hand, at his face.

"I've just returned from King's Landing, mother, and I'm hungry and tired," he said with a grunt. "Why have you sent for me?"

As she forced herself to control the immeasurable anger she was currently feeling, Olenna's fingers slowly drummed on top of the letter resting on her oak desk.

"Do you know what this missive contains, Mace?," Olenna asked bitingly.

The young Lord shook his head in reply. Based on his mother's obvious irritation, he assumed it was yet another communique from one of his needy vassals, complaining about one thing or another.

Olenna's fingers stilled on the letter, the eerie silence that followed only disturbed by the crackling of the fire to her left. "This here is proof that I should have swallowed on the night you were conceived. Do you realize what you have done, you blundering fool? Your incompetence has ruined over two hundred years of good fortune that this House has enjoyed. What in the name of the Seven do you have to say for yourself, boy?"

"Mother," Mace exclaimed, aghast at Olenna's crass words. "Why would you say such a thing to me?"

"Why?," the Queen of Thorns questioned loudly. "Because you oaf, your stupidity has allowed the Starks to finally break the contract between them and House Tyrell. A contract so binding, the only way for those damn wolves to get out of it was from an action no Lord of this House would ever think to make."

The contract in question was made over two hundred years ago, shortly after King Jaehaerys I gifted the Night's Watch the New Gift at his wife's urging. The unilateral decision made by the King stripped the North of their most fertile lands and angered House Stark to the point the wolves thought to secede from the Seven Kingdoms, even in the face of the mighty dragons under Targaryen control.

When Lord Alric Stark brought his grievances over the New Gift to King's Landing, heated words were exchanged between him and the King. Their argument leads to threats of death and secession and the Seven Kingdoms would have gone to war if not for the efforts of one man. It was during this time that Lord Theo Tyrell struck a mighty blow for his House and the Reach as a whole.

Lord Theo was a man entering both the twilight of his life, as well as his time as a Lord Paramount of Westeros. Having spent his entire reign consolidating power in the Reach for House Tyrell, five years prior he gladly accepted the King's offer to become the new Master of Coin for the realm. Mere days before abdicating his Lordship to his eldest son, his last act as Head of House was to broker a peace between the King and the North. With the threat of Winter fast approaching, he offered to provide House Stark with the food and grain they would need to outlast the harsh Winter.

While Lord Alric was grateful for the assistance, Theo's offer wasn't made from the goodness of his heart. In his rage induced state of mind, the contract Alric assumed he was signing for the upcoming Winter, forced the North to buy sixty percent of all food produced by Highgarden at the current market value, with House Stark also bearing the cost for the transport and safety of the goods to the North.

As written, the contract was already a favorable one for House Tyrell, but the fine print is what made the North the laughing stock of the Seven Kingdoms for generations to come. Only half of the amount being sold would be done so as written, whereas the remainder would cost House Stark an additional twenty percent above market value. To add insult to injury, not only was the contract signed and backed by the Iron Throne, but it was also worded in such a way that it bound House Stark in perpetuity and not just the upcoming Winter Alric thought he was agreeing upon. The final nail in the coffin for the deal dealt with how the binding agreement could be broken. The only way for it to be rendered complete, was for the Lord Paramount of the Reach to give the King a written dissolution of the contract in person.

By the time the North realized the ruse, it was far too late for them to rectify their mistake. Winter had arrived and with it brought the worst snowstorm Westeros had seen in several centuries. Lasting for a full three years, in the North scores of Nobles and small folk alike were lost to the unforgiving cold.

Unfortunately, Lord Alric and several of his staunchest bannermen were also part of these casualties and his named heir was far too young and far too inexperienced to challenge the King or House Tyrell over the contract's legality. Without any allies amongst the Southern Houses for them to call upon, House Stark and the North were forced to endure their fate in silence.

As the years passed, House Tyrell continued to prosper greatly from this one-sided arrangement. With the onus of transport and security of the produce completely upon House Stark, recent generations began replacing quality goods with food that was almost about to rot. Since the goods were still passable at the time of delivery, House Stark was once again forced to bear the burden of this injustice, especially since they still lacked any support from the Iron Throne or the other Great Houses.

The money the Tyrells saved from doing this allowed them to undercut their rivals at every turn. The ironfisted monopoly they created all throughout the Seven Kingdoms, ensured House Tyrell's place as the second richest House in Westeros, falling only behind House Lannister and their endless gold mines.

Mace blanched in fear at the obvious anger that was emanating from his mother. He knew exactly what she was speaking of since he made the decision to end the agreement but a fortnight ago. In his defense, his actions were only taken for the betterment of House Tyrell and not for his own sake.

It didn't have anything to do with the fact that he was drunk and wanted to show his mother and Vassals that he was a capable leader in his own right. It certainly wasn't because he was envious of the new Lord's good looks or the attention he was receiving from the entirety of the King's court. Attention that he never got during the feast thrown for his own ascension and one he was more deserving of than some savage wolf from the North. It definitely wasn't because Brandon Stark greeted him like some minor Noble and not a fellow Lord Paramount whose House was gracious enough to keep his uncivilized people fed year in and year out.

As he thought about his recent actions, Mace could still recall the knowing smirks on the faces of the King and Lord Hand when he formally rescinded the previous contract and gave the current Lord Stark his terms for the new one. The young Lord drew courage from the fact that unlike his mother and treacherous Vassals, great men like King Aerys and Lord Tywin were able to see and appreciate the depths of his business acumen.

With the stranglehold on food distribution the Reach enjoyed all throughout the Seven Kingdoms, the only House that could possibly sell the barren North the food and grain they would need to survive, was House Tully of Riverrun. Unfortunately for both the Tullys and the Starks, in recent years, without much demand for their goods, much of the Tully lands currently lay fallow. The food they did produce was used for their own needs and the remainder already spoken for by their allied Houses.

While technically the Tullys could begin working their unused lands to supply the North, they wouldn't be able to do much before the onset of Winter. Thanks to a visiting cousin of his that was an Acolyte at the Citadel, before his departure from Highgarden Mace learned the Maesters would send out white Ravens in less than three moons.

Not only did the arrival of the albino birds ensure all the Noble Houses in Westeros knew that Winter was coming, but they were also a sign for all Lord Paramounts to begin stockpiling food for the bleak time that would soon follow. Given how honorable the Starks were said to be, Mace didn't think his fellow Lord would allow his pride to let his people suffer a slow death.

The present-day terms Mace had given to Brandon, in his humble opinion weren't as harsh as they could be. After all, he wasn't a monster, it was just business. The current contract was a virtual mirror to the previous one, except the initial fifty percent of goods that House Stark would purchase from Highgarden would be ten percent above market value, with the remaining fifty percent to be purchased at thirty percent above market value. As a man of honor, Mace even included a clause that would reduce prices to the previous terms, during the entirety of Winter, regardless of its length.

It baffled Mace why one of his ancestors hadn't waited until Winter to force the Starks into a new contract, but their loss would be his gain. In a single move he would become the greatest Lord House Tyrell had ever seen, and hopefully, convince his mother that he wasn't the helpless little boy that she still thought him to be.

Upon his departure from King's Landing, as a man who epitomized the Chivalry that the Reach was known for, Mace was kind enough to give Brandon Stark a fortnight to accept his terms. By the time he arrived at Highgarden, the young Lord expected to be greeted by his mother like a conquering hero, only for him to now learn that his generous offer had been rejected by the Starks. The fear he previously felt in regards to his mother's anger, was quickly replaced by his own fury.

"That's enough, mother," he replied with a wave of his hand, and a shadow of a spine that surprised the Queen of Thorns briefly. "I will hear no more on this matter from you. If the Starks have chosen to reject my gracious offer than I will bleed them fucking dry with the next one. What is it those savages are always saying...Winter is Coming? Well, it will be here soon enough and when it is, those fucking wolves will realize no one but House Tyrell has the resources to keep them alive during Winter. And when they come crawling back to us on their hands and knees, I will make them pay for this insult."

Olenna snorted loudly in response. "Than you are a bigger fool than I thought you to be, my son. The Starks will never again agree to such unfavorable terms. As for them coming back on their hands and knees, even if the rumors coming out of Dorne prove to be false, you forget House Manderly has strong alliances with many rich and powerful people in Essos. The Starks might have to overpay for their food for the upcoming Winter, but once it has passed, the Tullys will leap at the chance to secure a new contract with them in our stead. Even with the monopoly we currently enjoy throughout the Seven Kingdoms, there was a reason no Tyrell Lord ever thought to alter our contract with the North."

When his mother's words finally registered within Mace's mind, the young Lord realized how badly he had erred. In his hubris, he never thought of the North purchasing their wares outside of Westeros and now his mistake could ruin everything his ancestors had built.

"I...I...am sorry, mother...I shou...should have.."

"Be silent, boy," Olenna barked back in a cold rage. "From here on out, you are not to make any decision without first consulting me on the matter. Do you understand the words coming out of my mouth, Mace?"

When she saw her son slowly nod his head in acceptance, Olenna continued, "Good, then remove yourself from my presence. Your stupidity could be contagious and House Tyrell can't afford both of us falling to your illness."

As Mace reluctantly made his way out of his mother's parlor, he left it a broken man. Any faith he may once have had in his own abilities was forever lost due to a single mistake. Unknown to him, for the rest of his time as the Lord of his House, he would never again be able to make an important decision on his own.

Olenna watched her eldest child leave the room in shame, and though it pained her to do so, for the good of House Tyrell her son needed to be brought to heel. With her eldest daughter already married into her old House and her youngest child no better suited to rule than her older brother, until a valid heir could be trained from one of Mace's future offspring, she would have to rule the Reach by proxy.

The loss of Stark gold meant House Tyrell would no longer be able to undercut their rivals on a regular basis. Once news of Mace's Folly became known to the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, Olenna was certain their rivals would think her House to be easy prey. However, Highgarden's monopoly throughout Westeros wasn't built in a day. It took centuries in the making and it would take years before their enemies could even think to bring it all down. If she played her hand well and struck before her competitors, Olenna was certain she could still secure several long term contracts within Westeros and Essos. The terms would never be comparable to the agreement they once shared with the Starks, but the Queen of Thorns was confident in her ability to ensure a profit for her House. For now, that would have to be enough.

As she leaned back into her leather chair and took a sip of wine from the goblet in her hand, Olenna momentarily set aside her thoughts on future trade and turned her attention towards the Wolves of the North. Despite their lack of participation within the Great Game, as a Great House and the holder of the single most favorable contract the Reach had ever seen, the Queen of Thorns did her due diligence by ensuring she had several spies spread throughout Winterfell.

Unfortunately, it was obvious the people she sent had either been turned against her, or they had been found by the Starks and silenced permanently for their actions. While the loss of life meant little to her, the mere fact that the North was strong enough to provide new trade for House Dayne and House Martell, was very disconcerting for the former Lady of House Tyrell. For countless millennia the Starks were known as honorable men, who were incapable of playing let alone surviving the rules of the Great Game. For a House such as theirs to be able to hide these changes from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms, proved this new Lord Stark could play the Great Game better than any of his predecessors. A fact that made Olenna weary of both Brandon's intentions and his capabilities.

276: Casterly Rock(Lord's Solar):

Born to Tytos Lannister and Jeyne Marbrand, as the eldest of five siblings, Tywin Lannister was a man feared by friends, family and enemies alike. The mere mention of his name was enough to cause many a man to tremble in fright, a fact that pleased him to no end.

At four and thirty, the 6'3" man was slender of frame but broad in the shoulders. In the wake of his receding hairline, Tywin cropped the golden locks that once adorned his head, his thinning hair now highlighted by the presence of the elongated sideburns that stretched from his temple to his chin on either side. His already intimidating presence was further accentuated by his Lannister green eyes that alternated between calculated intelligence in one moment and a ruthlessness that few could ever hope to match in another.

In his youth, Tywin was forced to watch his father nearly bring to ruin the mighty House of Lannister. Tytos' incessant need to be loved by everyone, allowed him to forgive both debts and insults with equal ease. The former Lord of House Lannister's actions was enough to cause many of his bannerman to openly mock him in their cups or readily defy him whenever they had a need.

For many years Tywin watched in impotent silence as his father took these insults in stride, but his inaction came to an end shortly after his tenth Name-day. To appease some imagined slight felt by the Lord of House Frey, Tytos Lannister had the gall to betroth his only daughter to Walder Frey's second son. An uneven match in every way, Tywin was furious that his father would marry his only sister into a minor House like the Freys, especially to a second son who was already twice as old as Genna's seven Name-days.

The young Lord's reward for speaking out against his father's ill-made decision was to be sent to King's Landing to become a cupbearer in the King's Court. There, Tywin met and befriended Prince Aerys Targaryen, unknowingly setting his path to becoming one of the most feared and powerful people in the Seven Kingdoms.

By the time his eighteenth Name-day came about, Tywin was a young Knight looking to make a name for himself. As the Gods would have it, his opportunity came during the War of the Ninepenny Kings. Under the leadership of his uncle, Ser Jason Lannister, Tywin alongside his younger brothers Kevan and Tygett, joined the eleven thousand strong Westerland forces as they fought for the Iron Throne in the Stepstones.

The very first battle Tywin was a part of, not only resulted in a great victory for their enemies but also led to the loss of the Westerland Commander. The sudden death of his uncle demoralized the Westerland forces, especially when Tywin took command, as the majority of the men viewed him to be as weak-willed as his father. The Heir of Casterly Rock showed these men the error of their ways, by his ruthless actions throughout the war. Time and again Tywin proved to be a brilliant tactician, one who crushed his enemies in every skirmish and battle that he led.

His numerous victories earned him great distinction during the War, one of which granted him the privilege of Knighting his best friend, Prince Aerys. At the culmination of the fighting, a battle-hardened Tywin, together with his brothers, returned to his home once more.

No longer a child who was forced to accept his father's every whim, Tywin's return to the Westerlands brought with him blood and death, the likes of which none could ever have imagined. Mere days after his arrival, the young Heir demanded the immediate repayment of all debts and loans owed to House Lannister.

Those who were aware of Tywin's actions during the War were quick to obey his command. Others like Roger Reyne and Walderran Tarbeck, jeered at the ultimatum, the pair of Lords convinced they could cow Tytos into rescinding his son's edict. Undeterred by his father's lack of support, Tywin answered these rebellious Vassals with the Rains of Castamere.

Still sung by bards all throughout Westeros, the tale of Tywin's utter destruction of House Tarbeck and Reyne, struck fear in the hearts of every man, woman, and child in the Westerlands. In a single move, the years of dishonor brought to House Lannister by the father were cleansed in righteous fire by his son.

As the young Lord's fame spread throughout the land in song, his ruthlessness was heard of and appreciated by his friend the Prince. A year later, when Aerys became King, Tywin became the youngest Lord Hand the Seven Kingdoms had ever seen and joined his liege Lord at King's Landing. Though Tytos retained his position as Lord of House Lannister for a few years longer, it was only in name.

By Tywin's decree, Kevan was named acting Steward of the Westerlands and with his brother's backing, none of their Vassals dared to cause him any problems. The whole of the Westerlands thought it best not to provoke the sleeping Lion, a sentiment that was further reinforced when Tytos died of burst heart and the true Lord of House Lannister officially took up the reigns as Lord Paramount.

For a decade straight Tywin experienced nothing but success at every turn. He married his beloved cousin, the breathtaking Joanna Lannister, and through her, the Gods gifted him with a pair of beautiful and healthy twins. A son to follow him as heir to Casterly Rock and a daughter he planned to one day place on the throne, as wife to Aerys' son Rhaegar. For that brief moment in time, all was right in the world for Tywin Lannister.

Sadly, fate was a fickle mistress even during the best of times. The pride King Aerys once felt at having a competent and efficient Lord Hand like Tywin, was quickly replaced by jealousy over his friend's good fortune. It was no secret in the court that Aerys desired Joanna for himself, her beauty far outshining that of his sister-wife Rhaella. These ill feelings were further compounded by the people joking that while Aerys sat on the throne, it was his Lord Hand that ruled over Westeros.

Despite all that was happening around him, with his wife's unending support, Tywin continued to do his duty, both to his King and to the realm. He hoped his actions would prevent his relationship with Aerys from deteriorating any further, but the Gods had another plan in their minds. Ten years after his ascension to Lord Hand, Joanna Lannister died giving birth to their second son, Tyrion Lannister.

When Aerys learned of Joanna's death and Tyrion's deformity, he mocked Tywin for his loss. He claimed the Gods had cursed him with a dead wife and a dwarf for a son, to teach him humility for all of his arrogance. A proud man, though he continued on as Hand to the King, in that very moment Tywin lost all desire to repair the broken friendship between him Aerys. From that day on, his only concern came from using his position to amass power and privilege for himself and for his House.

As he patiently sat in the palatial Lord's Solar of Casterly Rock, Tywin leaned back into his large leather chair and picked up an ornate golden goblet off his luxurious mahogany desk. Just as the first trickle of the twenty year Dornish red passed across his pale lips, the knock he'd been waiting for echoed throughout the room. "Come in," he called out.

The door opened to reveal his younger brother, Kevan. Three inches shorter than Tywin, at 6'0" even, Kevan had broad shoulders and a thick waist that made his build far stouter than any of his siblings. His close-cropped blond hair and neatly trimmed goatee was reminiscent to the look he had during the Ninepenny War, though his Lannister green eyes now flashed with a depth of experience his younger self did not have at the time.

Although he may only be a household Knight in name, during the time Kevan spent as the Steward of the Westerlands, the man proved himself as a fine administrator, one whose skills were easily on par with Tywin's own. When combined with his sound strategic thinking and unshakable loyalty to his older brother, out of all his other siblings, there was a reason why Tywin relied on him the most.

"Is it done?," Tywin asked, his cold voice icy enough to send chills down the spine of a weaker man.

"Yes, brother," Kevan answered back. "Edward is dead and his Manor burned to the ground as you commanded. It was made to look like an accident, so no one from his House will be seeking retribution for his death. Now, will you please tell me why you had me murder one of our cousins?"

Edward Lannister of Lannisport was the second son of Damon Lannister. Unlike the majority of their Vassals during Tytos' reign, Damon stayed loyal to the family above all others. Thanks to Lord Damon's actions as a faux Master of Coin for House Lannister, after his return to the Westerlands, Tywin knew every penny that was owed to his House.

As thanks for the man's years of loyal service to the Lions of the Rock, upon his death, Tywin ensured that each of his three children were well taken care of. When Reginald succeeded his father as the Head of House Lannisport, Tywin gifted the young Lord with a hundred thousand gold dragons for the much-needed repair of the port city his family ruled over. In regards to his sister, Jessica, the Lord of Casterly Rock not only paid for her dowry, but he also found the comely girl a prominent merchant family to marry into. Finally, for Edward, Tywin was quick to realize the boy's gift with numbers and had him placed as the assistant to Lord Qarlton Chelsted, the King's Master of Coin.

Over the last decade, the boy grew into a man and from the exemplary reports Tywin received from Lord Qarlton, time and again Edward proved himself worthy of receiving the Hand's personal recommendation to the position. At least that was the impression Tywin had until a fortnight ago. Between the rumors of new trade between the North and Dorne, and the arrival of the Starks to King's Landing in all their new splendor, it was obvious how thoroughly Edward had betrayed his trust.

"Because he broke my trust," Tywin replied without a care. "That alone was enough for me to order his death, but if his actions ever became known to the rest of the small council, they could have proven to be treasonous for House Lannister. A fact I'm sure King Aerys would have acted upon with even the slightest bit of evidence."

Only his years of experience as a Steward, prevented Kevan's jaw from dropping in shock. "How can a mere assistant's actions prove treasonous for our House?"

Tywin chose to answer his brother's question with one of his own. "Tell me, Kevan, what news have you heard from the North recently?"

Surprised by his brother's random query, nonetheless, Kevan answered, "Nothing much of note. According to the handful of reports I have from our spies at Winterfell and New Castle, the North is the same as it always has been."

Tywin nodded his head, already knowing what his brother's response was going to be, especially since it was the same one supplied to the small council by Varys from his little birds. "The reports you have received over the years are not worth the parchment they were written on, brother. As of now, I'm certain our people are either dead or they have been bought by House Stark."

"And pray tell, what makes you say such a thing?"

"Because I was in King's Landing when Brandon Stark took his vows as the new Lord Paramount of the North and then announced to the court his marriage to Ashara of House Dayne. A union that was made possible by a new trade alliance formed between the North and Dorne."

Kevan couldn't help but snort mockingly at the thought of the North being useful in any way, though he was surprised by Brandon's marriage to Ashara. It was no secret how close the Dayne girl was to Princess Deria and given the old hag's recent coup with the marriage between her daughter and the Prince, Kevan was certain she would look within Dorne to find a suitable match for her puppet ward. "Outside of wood and wool, what could those Northern savages possibly offer the desert rats in trade?"

Tywin arched a bushy eyebrow at his brother and said, "While that may have been true in the past, rumors have confirmed the current alliance involves the Starks providing Dorne with silk, spices and even new crops that haven't been seen in Westeros before."

For a second time that day, the Steward's shock nearly overwhelmed him. "How is that even possible, Tywin?

The inability of the Lannister Head of House to answer that very question is what lead Tywin to Edward's betrayal. Fortunately, as Lord Hand not only was he able to discover his cousin's deceit before Varys and Qarlton had a chance to do so, but he was also able to cover up Edward's actions from the investigations that were sure to follow from the two men.

When he saw his brother still waiting for a reply, Tywin answered, "While I can't explain how the Starks knew of our spies, I do know Edward's greed could have prevented us from being caught unaware to the changes that have occurred in the North."

"How so, brother?," Kevan asked curiously.

"Even before Rickard and his son arrived at court, Varys' little birds informed him about the events that happened in Dorne," Tywin explained. "If their newly found attitude and appearance weren't enough to give credence to the Stark's recent prosperity, the confirmation of the six War-Galleys they brought South with them would have sufficed."

As his mind overcame the very idea of the Starks having command of a fleet of their own, Kevan's thoughts quickly turned towards his dead cousin. In that moment, he realized what the idiot must have done. It was one thing for the Wolves to keep their actions unseen by silencing the Lannister spies, but it was another to hide their wealth from the Iron Throne itself.

"Edward was stealing from the King," he exclaimed, his normally stoic voice suddenly laced with worry and fear.

"Indeed," Tywin replied with a calm nod of his head. "The ungrateful little shit had been pocketing the increased taxes sent by the North while showing there to be no change on the official records."

"How long?," Kevan asked simply

"For seven years," the Lannister Lord replied with barely concealed anger.

"I take it you have already seen to cleaning up his mess," Kevan replied.

"I have," Tywin answered. "Fortunately, I was able to discover Edward's personal books in his room at the Keep and made changes to the official documents accordingly. The gold has already been added to the Royal Treasury, so not even Varys or Qarlton can prove what the boy had been up to."

Unknowingly, Kevan released a silent sigh in relief. Tywin's sudden arrival at Casterly Rock with a bound Edward, now made sense. Given the contentious relationship currently shared between his older brother and the King, he had no doubt what measures Aerys would have taken should Edward's actions ever came to light. If House Lannister was lucky, only Tywin would have lost his life, though Kevan wasn't sure if even that would have been enough to satiate the Mad King's wrath.

"What will we do now, brother?"

"Now, we will find out everything there is to know about Brandon Stark. I only met him briefly during the feast Aerys threw in honor of his ascension to Lord Paramount, but he is unlike any Stark I have ever met before and I have no doubt he is the catalyst behind the changes to this new North."

Unlike most people, Kevan knew his brother well enough to recognize the hint of respect that flashed across the man's green eyes. In that moment, he suddenly found himself curious as to what made this boy Lord so special. Tywin Lannister was not a man who was easily impressed by anyone and the mere fact that a Stark of all people was able to garner his attention, made the usually overworked Steward eager to begin on his new task.

276: The North(Road to Winterfell)

As she looked at the passing countryside outside of her lavish carriage, Ashara was enthralled by its beauty. Having lived her entire life surrounded by the blistering heat of the desert, though she knew how harsh these lands could become during Winter, she couldn't help but smile at the cool wind that swept across her face and all the greenery that her eyes could now see. Even the road she was traveling on was far smoother and better built than any other King's Road she'd been on in Westeros. Yet, despite all of the splendor that was around her, the lush lands she would soon call home were only one of the surprises she would face on her journey to the North.

On the day her betrothed and future Good father left for King's Landing, Ashara received a letter that was hand-delivered to her by her brother Andrew. In it, she was informed the Starks were leaving behind five of the six ships they brought with them as an escort for her journey to the North. As an added boon, one of the massive War-Galleys was to be her personal vessel.

While Oberyn, Deria and her father had been pleased by her new family's generosity, as well as their consideration for her safety, during their tour of the Lady Stark, her eldest brother's jealousy was clearly evident for any to see. Fortunately, it didn't require a Grand Maester's intellect to discover the reason behind his animosity. Unlike the other four vessels that would accompany them North, her personal ship was nothing short of luxurious.

Each of the cabins on the Lady Stark was made from dark red sandalwood and equipped with large bear-skin blankets, with the finest of silks used for the bedding. The beautifully handcrafted dinnerware they were shown was each emblazoned with the coat of arms of House Dayne and would be used by the ship's personal chef to make their meals during the journey. The sheer amount of food and drinks stored on the vessel left everyone not only baffled by the variety but also impressed with the ingenious iceboxes that were used to keep everything fresh.

By the end of the tour Ashara and Oberyn were eagerly looking forward to trying out all the new food and wine that would soon be at their disposal, while Deria and Beric were busy making plans to acquire several of these ice boxes for their own use.

Three days after the tour, Ashara and the bridal party were ready to depart. The moon long trek to her new home was a unique experience for the future Lady Stark. Even though she grew up a ward of the ruling House of Dorne, the young Dayne rarely ever had a reason to travel by ship. As such, she relished her time at sea and with her surrogate younger brother and his paramour by her side, the trio took advantage of all the comforts the Lady Stark had to offer.

When the bridal party finally arrived at White Harbor, they were personally greeted by Lord Wyman Manderly and his family, who insisted they spend the night at New Castle before continuing on with their journey. Though her tour of the Manderly seat of power was only a brief one, even to the untrained eye it was clear to see the grandeur of the city.

Built atop a large hill, New Castle's rising white walls glistened as if they were newly made. What surprised Ashara the most was the lack of dirt, grime, and smell that was commonly seen in a city the size of White Harbor. When she questioned Lord Manderly's heir about it, the young man laughed and credited her future husband for the change.

Apparently, Brandon Stark convinced Lord Manderly on the benefits of a properly created sewage system and designed one for White Harbor himself. Though the Manderly heir remained tight-lipped over most of Ashara's questions in regards to Brandon and Winterfell after a few glasses of wine Wylis did open up about some things.

From her history lessons growing up, Ashara knew the Wolf's Den was an ancient castle that once served as the seat of power for a cadet branch of House Stark, called the Greystarks. After the destruction of the House for siding with the Boltons during a rebellion centuries back, the castle changed hands many times until finally being awarded to the Manderlys upon their arrival to the North.

According to what she learned from Sunspear's Maester, the Wolf's Den was supposed to be a worn down castle, with crumbling black walls, that was occasionally used by the Manderlys as an oversized prison. However, the structure she saw on her brief tour looked to be completely renovated, standing proudly in all its magnificent glory. From what Wylis let slip during the feast thrown in her honor, it was now manned by almost fifteen hundred bannermen, all of whom were gifted to House Manderly by the Starks.

That little tidbit of information was enough to make Deria, her father and Oberyn exceedingly weary of House Stark's newly found power. The number of bannermen her future House so easily gave away, was equivalent to almost half of the forces House Martell could muster from their own sworn men at arms. For the Stark's to be so generous was clearly a frightening thought for her surrogate mother and another reason the Princess was grateful for Ashara's marriage to Brandon Stark.

The young Dayne's departure from New Castle was met with the same exuberance as her arrival. Accompanied by Lord Manderly and his family, the bridal party continued on their journey to Winterfell. Barely two hours in, the Lady Stark came across Fort Cassel, a massive fortress located at the bifurcation of the White River. Based on the shocked expression that briefly flashed across Deria's face, Ashara knew the structure was not one her mother had seen during her previous trek through the North. A fact proven when Wylis regaled them with the story of House Cassel's elevation to Noble status a few years back and the subsequent fortress they were gifted with as part of that honor.

By the time they arrived at Wolfswood Port, even Oberyn and his paramour, Ellaria, were shocked enough by their surroundings to set aside their normal merriment and discover all they could about this new North. During yet another feast thrown in her honor, Ashara and Deria had been amused by the abnormally full wineskins in front of the pair, as they instead spent their time charming their host into revealing more information than the Castellan of the port might have intended to give away on his own.

Based on what they were able to discern from the man, Wolfswood Port was one of five new holdfasts directly under Stark control. This was an achievement no other Great House could boast of in Westeros and one that showed how deep the Stark coffers now ran. The Port itself acted as a deterrent against any unwanted ships coming down the newly formed Shimmering canal that connected to the Sunset Sea, while the lands attached to the holdfast were responsible for making sure the Starks no longer needed the Reach to feed their people.

During their brief stay at the Port, news of Mace's Folly became known to the bridal party. While the North openly celebrated the end to the centuries-old contract, the Dornish were simply pleased by the effect this would have on the Tyrells. The mere thought of the monetary hit the Reach would soon face did bring her surrogate mother a brief moment of joy, but Ashara knew the sentiment was only fleeting. It paled in comparison to the fact that the North was able to hide all of these changes from the rest of the Seven Kingdoms for so long. It also reinforced the Princess' belief in the abilities of House Stark's new Master of Whispers, which further increased the ever-growing weariness of all the Dornish save Ashara herself.

The following day, the last leg of their journey began at dawn, with the Castellan of Wolfswood Port providing their party with several extravagantly built carriages for their use. As an added bonus, he even offered them an escort of fifty men at arms for their security. A gift that was gladly accepted by Deria and Beric. While her father and the Manderly men chose to ride on borrowed horses, the Manderly women and children took a carriage for themselves. A second carriage was dedicated to Deria and her father and a third taken by Oberyn and Ellaria. It was no secret amongst the bridal party as to what the pair would be up to during the three-day journey and given her desire to spend some time alone before arriving at her new home, a fourth carriage was graciously provided for Ashara.

Despite being forced to spend two nights camping out on the open road, at no point did Ashara and her family feel as if they were roughing it. The men at arms provided as their escort were well trained and very efficient in taking care of all of the party's needs, so tents were set up and latrines dug almost immediately at the end of each day. If that wasn't enough to make sure her journey to Winterfell was to be a pleasant one, much like with her voyage out at sea, her private chef was also present to ensure a tantalizing meal was provided for everyone.

Now, barely an hour away from her new home, Ashara's excitement and weariness grew in leaps in bounds. Based on everything she'd learned of the North and the man responsible for its change, she couldn't wait to finally meet her future husband. Time and again Brandon Stark surpassed all of her dreams in regards to the perfect man, but now, a part of her was worried he was too good to be true. As a result, the closer she got to Winterfell the more impatient she found herself becoming with the wait.

Ashara's daydream came crashing to a halt when the door to her still moving carriage suddenly opened and the man she was thinking about jumped inside. The sheer shock of his presence was quickly surpassed by the instant attraction she felt at his sight. The brief glimpse she had of Brandon at Sunspear, didn't do justice to seeing the man up close and in person.

As her violet eyes took in his skin-tight black leather armor with a grey wolf's head adorning the chest, she couldn't help but notice the ripple of his well-defined muscles underneath it. From their brief encounter at Sunspear, Ashara was well aware her betrothed was a large man, but his closeness just highlighted how massive he truly was. Despite being tall for a woman, the young Dayne felt like a child in his presence. But his physical appearance was only part of what she was searching for. It wasn't until their eyes locked, did she see the intelligence, kindness, and mutual attraction she was hoping to find.

Ashara was pulled from her inspection, when she heard Brandon say, "Apologies, my Lady, for startling you, but when I learned how close you were to Winterfell, I couldn't stop myself from coming to greet you."

"Your apology is appreciated, but unwarranted, my Lord," Ashara replied, as was expected of a proper Lady. "It is your right to meet your betrothed. How may I serve you?"

Brandon frowned at the response, the rejoinder much too docile for the woman he imagined as his future wife. "Soon enough we shall be married, my Lady. I would have you call me by my given name."

"Very well, my...I mean Brandon. Please, call me Ashara."

"Good," Brandon replied with a nod of his head. "I'm sure you're wondering why I'm here right now."

"The thought did cross my mind," Ashara answered, the hint of sarcasm clearly evident in her voice. "Especially considering how close we are to Winterfell. One would think you were in a hurry to greet me."

Brandon smirked, pleased by the confident reply of his wife to be. "Now, that sounds more like the 'Desert Rose with Thorns of Steel' that will soon be my wife. If not for your obvious beauty, I would have thought the Ashara I chose to marry was switched with some delicate Southern flower."

Ashara arched an eyebrow at hearing the nickname Oberyn and Elia would often tease her with, her violet eyes suddenly dancing with mirth. While she was surprised that her betrothed even knew about the existence of the epithet, she was far more amused that he had the audacity to use it in front of her. The way Brandon spoke to her was different from all the stuffy heirs she'd previously met in Dorne and in spite of her years of training as a Lady, she found herself responding in kind.

"Well, if it's thorns that you like than thorns you shall have," she said with a show of mock arrogance. "Now, what's this about you choosing me? I wasn't aware I had any competition for the title of Lady Stark."

Upon hearing her response, the Stark Lord's booming laugh filled the carriage with ease. "To be honest, Ashara, when my father decided it was time for me to take up my rightful place as the next Warden of the North, he scoured the Seven Kingdoms in hopes of finding me the perfect woman to stand by my side," Brandon explained. "I admit, when I learned of the criteria he expected my future wife to meet, I didn't believe anyone could meet his lofty expectations. But then I heard of you. Not only did you surpass every one of his conditions, but you also did it so thoroughly that there really wasn't any competition to be had."

"And what exactly did these criteria entail?," Ashara asked curiously.

In his quest to begin their relationship with as much honesty as possible, Brandon didn't hesitate before replying, "My father had four requirements he wished to see in his future Good daughter. The first was that she would be beautiful and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that there are few women in this world who can even hope to compare to your beauty. The second that she be intelligent, a fact that you've recently proven with your masterful dealing with the Iron Bank. The third that she be strong enough to rule by my side, which you're clearly capable of, especially with the training you received from House Martell, as well as the manner in which you earned the nickname given to you by Prince Oberyn and Princess Elia. And finally, that she comes from a House that could offer my family political influence in the future. While I won't lie and tell you that your relationship with the Martells wasn't of great importance to my father, I can honestly say that I chose you for another reason."

Though her face showed a cool facade, there was no denying the rapid beating of the heart within her chest. "And what reason would that be?," Ashara asked.

Unsure how to properly answer the question, Brandon took a deep breath and said, "When I was young, my mother would tell me stories of her time growing up with my father. Though their marriage was partially political, my parents loved each other long before their future was decided for them. A part of me always wanted to find my wife in such a manner, but my childhood was spent making the North what it is today. From the little I know of you, you are beautiful, intelligent, kind and fierce. All qualities that my mother possessed, and ones I would wish to have in the woman that I marry. I know not what the future will hold for us, Ashara, but I believe you can be someone that I could fall in love with some day. And if we somehow prove to be incompatible, then at the very least I believe you could be a friend who could rule by my side and ease some of my burdens."

Over the years, many a man and woman paid compliment to her beauty, but Ashara could tell by the lust in their eyes that their only desire was to fuck her body. Few if any ever thought to know her as a person. As she stared into the piercing grey eyes of the man she would soon marry, the young Dayne knew her betrothed was different from all of her previous suitors. Brandon's words were so simple and sincere, she couldn't help but blush at his honest praise.

"Thank you, Brandon."

"For what?"

"For being honest with me," she replied. "For not wanting to be with me, simply because of the way I look. My entire life I wanted to find someone who wanted me and not just my body. You're right. We don't know what the future will hold for us, but I do think you can be someone I can fall in love with too. And the Seven forbid if that doesn't come to pass, I can at least promise you that I will be a friend who will always support you in your time of need."

From the moment he made his decision to sneak out of Winterfell and meet his betrothed, Brandon was weary of this very moment. It was one thing to read reports on the woman he would spend the rest of his life with and another to see if she lived up to the expectations he had of her. Now that he'd finally met her, the new Lord Stark was pleased to learn his wife to be was everything he imagined and more.

Brandon was pulled from his thoughts when he heard Ashara ask, "Is it true the Starks now hold five new holdfasts directly under their control?"

"Aye, it's true," he answered simply, not at all surprised by the query. Especially given the Raven he received from the Castellan of Wolfswood Port, informing him of Oberyn and Ellaria polite but insistent inquisition during their brief stay.

"How is that even possible? Historically, neither the Starks nor the North has ever had the resources to achieve such a feat."

Ashara's boldness might have deterred another man, but she was confident her future husband would not be upset by her inquisitive nature. Her faith in her betrothed was soon proven by the knowing smile that suddenly appeared on Brandon's face.

In the past, the young Lord would have avoided answering such a question, but with the North about to open up trade with the Southern kingdoms, Brandon knew the truth behind their good fortune could not be hidden for too much longer.

"Let's just say, the mountains in the North hold treasures that no one could have ever imagined," Brandon replied coyly. "Unlike my ancestors, I was fortunate enough to not only discover these riches but also to claim them solely for my family."

Ashara's brow scrunched up deeply at the response until she realized what her betrothed's answer really entailed. "You found gold in your mountains," she exclaimed, clearly shocked by the discovery.

Once again Brandon's booming laugh echoed throughout the carriage. "Aye, I did," he replied with a nod of his head. "One day soon the Lannisters won't be known as the only family in Westeros to possess endless mountains of gold. But unlike the Westerlands, that's not all the North has to offer. The lands ruled by the Mountain Clans are rich in iron ore, while the Long Lake now under Stark control contains countless precious gems. The Gods have always looked favorably upon House Stark, but now more so than ever, the good fortune they have bestowed upon us has allowed the North to prosper beyond our wildest dreams."

As she thought about the reasons behind the North's sudden rise in power, Ashara once again marveled at the skills of the Stark spymaster. Given how comfortable she found herself to be in her future husband's presence, the young Dayne decided to push the boundaries of his leniency.

"House Stark's Master of Whispers must be exceptional to hide all of these discoveries from the other Great Houses. I know for a fact that Princess Deria was upset with how little she knew of the changes that have been made in the North. Considering how knowledgeable you are in regards to events in my personal life, I'm curious to know how far your spymaster's reach extends to."

Brandon arched an eyebrow Ashara and asked, "And what makes you think House Stark employs a spymaster?"

Ashara couldn't help but snort at the question. "Because, while you are certainly intelligent enough to be capable of hiding these actions on your own, at the end of the day you are but one man. It would be impossible for you to act as House Stark's spymaster and still remain a key cog to all the projects I have recently heard about."

Brandon smirked at the reply, pleased with Ashara's boldness and impressed by her logical reasoning. However, as much as he was thrilled by the young Dayne's spirit, the Stark Lord was not a stupid man. Despite his upcoming marriage to the woman before him, as the known protege of Princess Deria, there was a limit to the length of honesty and trust he could show to his future wife. At least not until she gained his confidence and proved her loyalty to House Stark.

"While I won't deny the truth behind your words, Ashara, I hope you can understand my reluctance to speak further on the matter. The identity of my spymaster is a closely guarded secret and something only a handful of people even know about. I hope you will one day you become such a confidant, but unfortunately, that day is not today."

Another woman might have been hurt or even angry by Brandon's words, but Ashara was unlike any other Southern Lady. Instead of being upset, she was truly pleased by the response. It proved her future husband was not a foolish man who trusted easily, but someone whose confidence she hoped to gain one day.

Unsure of how she would react to his statement, Brandon sighed softly at Ashara's lack of anger. Hoping to move the conversation towards safer topics, he quickly asked, "Have you given any thought as to what you want to do in the future?"

The young Dayne's violet eyes widened in response to the question. Despite Brandon's stated desire to have a wife who could rule by his side, she didn't know what to say. Ever since she was a child, Ashara assumed her marriage would be born from the duty she owed to House Martell and her father.

Based on the interactions she had with the various Lords and heirs she met in the South, in spite of Deria's claims otherwise, Ashara prepared herself for a future where her intelligence and abilities would be overlooked and undervalued by her husband to be. Now, the thought of a different future filled her heart with a hope she had long forsaken.

"What will you allow me to do?"

Brandon frowned at the question, though if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't surprised by it. Despite the leniency the North and Dorne showed in regards to women, sadly there was a limit as to how much freedom they were truly given. Outside of the Starks, the Mormonts and the Martells, no other Noble House in either Kingdom would allow a woman to have a say over House matters.

This was certainly true in regards to Anna Stark. While Brandon's mother was clearly more intelligent than all of her brothers, his grandfather still refused to heed her advice in any given situation. His decision on the matter led to several costly financial mistakes for House Karstark over the years, ones that could have been avoided had he but listened to his daughter's suggestions. It wasn't until she married and became Lady Stark, that Anna's administrative skills were finally allowed to shine.

Despite the large strain the contract with the Tyrells put on House Stark's coffers, Anna Stark was able to "alleviate the burden better than any Stark Lord that came before her. Under her guidance, not only were the Starks able to meet the demands of the Tyrells but for the first time in generations they were able to retain a profit from their taxes. In his youth, Brandon marveled at his mother's ability to achieve such a feat and under her tutelage, he refined his own administrative skills. Skills that helped him to cut costs during construction, while simultaneously ensuring that each site wouldn't have a delay due to a lack of materials, provisions or personnel.

When he noticed his betrothed patiently waiting for his reply, Brandon quickly said, "I have no need of a trophy wife, Ashara. More than your beauty, it was your intelligence that drew me to you. Much like with my parents, I wish to have a wife that can rule by my side. Outside of certain things that will have to wait until we reach a certain level of trust between one another, I assure you I have no desire to limit what you can do in the future. So I ask again, what is it that you want to do?"

Ashara's surprise was soon enough replaced by the elation she felt at hearing Brandon's decree. The thought of being treated like an equal by her future husband nearly overwhelmed the young woman, but she was still able to reply, "I've always had a head for numbers and after my dealings with the Iron Bank, I want to create a new bank for Westeros. Given their high-interest rates and selectivity, it's almost impossible for anyone outside of Nobility to procure a loan from them."

Brandon was momentarily taken aback by Ashara's proposal. Between his numerous projects throughout the North, the new Lord never gave thought to the merits behind creating a bank. However, with his plans involving the new school on Hornwood lands, and his desire to create a Northern version of Myr at Widow's Watch, it was clear to him the value behind such an endeavor. As he was already planning on offering personal loans to the small folk and craftsman who took up his offer, it might be better to mediate the monies through an established bank.

"Your idea might be possible," Brandon stated with a pleased smile. "As it coincides with several plans I am currently working on, if you're willing to take the lead on its creation, I would certainly be willing to finance the start of the bank on your behalf. For the time being, we would have to limit it to the North, but if it proves profitable, I wouldn't oppose the creation of a branch in the South."

For yet another time that day, Ashara's violet eyes widened in surprise to her betrothed's casual acceptance of her proposal. Ever since her dealings with the Iron Bank, the young Dayne spent weeks toiling through her idea of a Westrosi based bank. Unfortunately, the cost behind such a venture would be too high for any but the King or the Lannisters to undertake. Without any way of securing the support of either party, she had all but given up any hope of bringing her plans to fruition.

Nodding her head in agreement, she proudly replied, "Thank you, Brandon. You don't know how much this means to me. I never once imagined I would marry someone who had such faith in me. I promise you that you won't regret this. If you give me a few weeks to put everything in order, I can have a proper proposal for you to review in writing."

"Good, then it's settled. Once you have your proposal ready, we can go through it together and make your dream a reality."

For a moment the pair sat in comfortable silence, simply enjoying each others company. When Brandon realized how close they were to Winterfell, he decided to not waste the time they had left. "Do you have any further questions for me, Ashara?," he asked. "I can't promise I will tell you everything you may want to know, but I give you my word that I won't lie to you."

Brandon's offer brought to mind a concern that was plaguing her. While their current meeting had done much to ease any fears she may have about the character of the man she would soon marry, at the end of the day he was still a man and being a native of Dorne she knew well how loose they could be with their fidelity. Especially men as rich, powerful and good looking as the one in front of her. After everything Brandon was willing to do for, she in turn was willing to overlook any of his previous indiscretions, but nonetheless, she wanted to know the truth behind any dalliances he may have had over the years.

The violet-eyed beauty arched a perfectly manicured eyebrow at Brandon and replied. "I do, but I am uncertain how to ask it."

"Whatever it is, I promise you I will do my best to answer your question honestly," Brandon answered with a bemused smile.

"Very well, are there any mistresses or bastards I should be aware of?"

Brandon's eyes widened in surprise at the question, but he quickly shook his head in return. "While I admit there have been several women I found to be attractive over the years, you have no need to fear of a bastard, as I have never taken a lover to my bed."

As the favored protege of Princess Deria, the young Dayne took pride in her ability to not only judge a man's character but also to tell if he was lying to her. It was a skill she successfully used countless times with Oberyn growing up and one that she perfected under the guidance of her surrogate mother. Based on the sincerity clearly evident in her future husband's entire being, she had no doubt Brandon was telling her the truth. And yet his answer still baffled her. Having grown up around Oberyn and even Doran to a degree, she had seen how easily a pair of tits and some honeyed words could entice even the noblest of men to stray.

As her probing gaze took in her betrothed's incredibly fit and well-built body, when she looked into his alluring grey eyes, Ashara suddenly had an epiphany in regards to her future husband.

"You're a man-maid," she exclaimed with a playful laugh. "How is that even possible? At the very least I expected you to have experienced a whore or two in your youth. If I hadn't noticed how often your eyes seem to find my chest, I would think you a man queer."

Despite the joy he felt at the sound of Ashara's angelic laugh, Brandon found himself embarrassed by her teasing of his virginity. A fact that was evident by the blush that suddenly appeared across his cheeks.

"Aye, I am," he replied with a snort. "Over the years my projects in the North have taken up the majority of my attention and I've had little to no time to find a lover amongst the women I do find to be attractive. As for bedding a whore, I refuse to put my cock where a thousand cocks have been before."

The moment the words left his mouth, Brandon winced at how crass they had been. Recently he spent so long in Greatjon's company, it was clear he'd forgotten how to properly speak to a Lady. Perhaps it was Xander's memories of powerful women like Buffy, Faith, Willow, and Cordelia or Alex's memories of his strong-willed mother and sister, but unlike many of his peers, the young Lord never viewed women as bedmates and broodmares that could be spoken to however a man should please.

"I'm sorry for my poorly spoken words, Ashara," Brandon apologized. "I shouldn't have..."

"Stop, Brandon," Ashara interrupted with a laugh. "You have no need to apologize to me. I'm not some prissy little flower from the Reach, but a woman from Dorne and soon enough your wife. I assure you there is nothing you could say that I haven't heard before. Besides, where I come from such words are often between lovers."

Despite what his friends may believe, Brandon wasn't a prude. Thanks to his alternate selves, he had countless memories of having sex with beautiful women and since his teenage years, the young Lord longed to enact those memories in his current incarnation. But his inability to act upon his desires stemmed in part from his Stark upbringing, as well as knowing what the results of such a casual encounter could entail. Growing up he'd encountered several bastards of Noble birth and regardless of the status of their parents, the children would always suffer the stigma over their birth. This was a curse he never wanted to bring upon one of his children and so he controlled his urges at every turn.

When she saw her betrothed reluctantly nod his head in agreement, Ashara could tell he was still dismayed by his words. Several times in her youth she heard tales of how honorable the Starks were known to be, but seeing it in person was like a breath of fresh air for the young woman. The sight of Brandon's innocence and naivety to things every Dornish took for granted, aroused Ashara like a powerful aphrodisiac and at that moment the future Lady Stark decided it was time to put her mother's hard-earned lessons to use.

Without pause, she moved from her seat and before her betrothed could say otherwise, her legs spread wide and her knees locked on either side of Brandon's waist, as she straddled him quickly. Once her firm derrière landed roughly on top of his lap, Ashara's lithe arms snaked around his neck for support, bringing her lips mere inches from her partner. The meeting of grey and violet eyes clearly showed the lust and attraction the pair had for one another.

In a world where might makes right, Deria taught her daughters how important it was for them to use every advantage at their disposal. For a woman, there was no greater power than knowing how to use their body to control a man. From the day Elia and Ashara shed their first moons blood, the Princess trained them in the finer points of seduction.

Unlike the rest of Westeros, Dorne was far more worldly when it came to the act of sex. Whereas the rest of the Seven Kingdoms liked to hide their depravity within the confines of their homes and castles, the people of the Desert embraced their sexuality without any fears. Lys may be known for producing the most beautiful whores in the world, but no one could challenge a Dornish man or woman's ability to bring pleasure to their partner.

From the day they were old enough to do so, Ashara and Elia were taught everything they would need to know about sex. Be it a gentle touch, some honeyed words, or the various intricacies involved in the act itself, despite the necessity of keeping their maidenhood intact for their future husbands, the two girls were as knowledgeable about the art of seduction, as any whore that could be found within the Seven Kingdoms.

Always the dutiful student, Ashara took to heart every lesson the Princess had to offer. Though it pained her to think of using her body in such a manner, the young Dayne still possessed vast knowledge about the pleasures of the flesh. However, unknown to her surrogate mother, from a young age Ashara promised herself she would never use these lessons to have a man to do her bidding. The pride she had in her innate intelligence and cunning, refused to be put aside by the actions any common whore could take.

As she felt her large breasts firmly press against Brandon's chest, Ashara was grateful for the lessons she once scorned. For her actions in that moment weren't done to control or influence her betrothed, but to ease the pain of a man she had come to admire. Now more than ever, she wanted to share her passions and desires with a man she was sure she would one day soon love.

Brandon Stark was everything she wanted in a husband. In the brief time she spent with him, Ashara was impressed with his intelligence, enamored with his looks and aroused by his innocence. But as attracted as she was to his naivety, the young Dayne needed her future husband to realize what it means to be married to a woman from Dorne.

In order to realize the love they both hoped to find in one another, Brandon would have to embrace his carnal desires. As much as Ashara valued being wanted for her mind instead of her body, she learned from Deria's poor experiences how crucial both passion and respect needed to be for a marriage to survive. While the future Lady Stark had little doubt of Brandon not respecting her, for their union to be a lasting one, the Dornish beauty needed her husband to be to set aside his insecurities when it comes to sex.

The movement of the carriage inadvertently caused Ashara to rock against Brandon's growing length. The soft moan that escaped his lips, brought a smirk to the young woman's face. Using her knees as support, she swiftly removed her arms from around Brandon's neck and brought them to her large firm breasts.

As she gently began kneading them, Ashara waited until Brandon's eyes found her chest and asked, "Do you like what you see, my Lord?"

At the nod of his head, the young Dayne grabbed Brandon's hands and brought them to her breasts. Though she was larger in size than the majority of women she met in her life, Ashara's tits were soon lost within her future husband's grasp. The mixture of pleasure and pain she felt at his touch, caused her hips to thrust eagerly against his iron hard cock. Though she had yet to see her prize, Ashara was certain his length would easily fulfill her every desire.

When Brandon's lust filled eyes locked onto her own, Ashara leaned forward and whispered into his ear, not caring how bold or crass her word may be, "Good, because now they are yours. To touch. To lick. And to fuck whenever your heart desires. From this day on, you are mine and I am yours. Do you agree?"

Ashara smirked proudly at the feral growl that came from her betrothed. "Than show me how much you want me, Brandon. Make. Me. Yours."

The years Brandon spent building up his iron will was broken mere moments later. Finally giving in to his carnal desire, he leaned forward and captured Ashara's lips in a sudden and intense kiss. While his right hand continued to knead the tit in its grasp, his left hand snaked around Ashara's tiny waist and took a hold of her perfectly shaped derriere. Pulling her body towards him, he crushed her smaller frame tightly against his chest. Within moments the couple became lost to the world. Seconds turned to minutes, but neither was aware of the passing of time.

When the pair finally parted, their chests heaving from the passionate embrace, neither could believe how wonderful the kiss had been. It was beyond anything they could have possibly imagined and both of them yearned for more. Just before their lips could meet again, Brandon and Ashara heard the loud knock echo throughout the carriage. It was then that the couple realized the carriage was no longer in motion.

Before Ashara could even think to call out, the door opened and the pair turned to find a smirking Deria looking back at them. "And here I thought you were simply lost in your dreams, my dear."

"I'm sorry, mother/My apologies, Princess," the couple called out at the same time.

Deria's answering laugh was enough to embarrass them further. "As you are to be man and wife on the morrow, I see no reason for you to apologize. However, I would suggest you part ways for the moment as both your fathers are waiting for you outside."

While Ashara took a moment to make herself presentable, Brandon quickly made his way out of the carriage. As soon as he got out, he saw Oberyn and his paramour looking at him with a knowing smile spread across their lips. When he turned to face his soon to be good father, Brandon had to force himself not to roll his eyes at the man's stern and unapproving expression. After all the effort Deric and his eldest son put into keeping him and Ashara apart at Sunspear, he wasn't worried about upsetting the man with his impromptu visit.

It wasn't until his eyes turned towards Winterfell's massive Ironwood gates did Brandon find what he was looking for. Dressed in the finest of Northern made silk, each member of House Stark looked as if they were ready to attend a Royal ball. Rickard, Ned, Lyanna, and Benjen stood patiently at the entrance, the quartet surrounded on either side by two rows of Wolf Guard that stretched out into the courtyard behind them. Though he couldn't see them now, as per his instructions, he knew the gathered Vassals that came for the wedding could also be found in said courtyard, waiting to greet the new Lady Stark.

Despite his sibling's attempts to contain their obvious merriment, Brandon could easily tell how amused the trio was at his plight. Normally he would have joined them in their levity, but given the number of people around him, the Wolf Lord chose a more formal response. Nodding in acknowledgment towards his father, Brandon turned around found Ashara patiently waiting for his assistance to leave the carriage.

As he guided her down the trifecta of steps, Brandon once again marveled at his betrothed's beauty. The dark purple dress she wore not only highlighted Ashara's mesmerizing violet eyes, but it also hugged her curves in all the right places. The mere sight of her was enough to make women across the Seven Kingdoms green with envy and the Stark Lord couldn't help but be grateful she would soon be his.

The moment she emerged from the carriage, Ashara gasped at the sight of her new home. Based on the rumors she heard and the sights she had already seen, the new Lady Stark was well aware Winterfell wouldn't be the same Castle as her surrogate mother visited in her youth. However, she never imagined it to be so magnificent.

Having visited Harrenhal in her youth, the young Dayne could tell her new home wasn't as expansive as the fortress that could be found in the Riverlands, but the same could not be said of the majestic towers that now loomed in front of her. Totaling five in number, she was certain each one was larger than the Lord's tower at Harrenhal. As her gaze took in the sight of the stone bridges connecting each of the towers together, Ashara couldn't help but admire their ingenious design.

The description of the dark and dreary Castle Deria once provided for the ancient stronghold of the Starks, was soon enough replaced by an enchanting vision Ashara would gladly call her new home. Between its intimidating walls, majestic towers and glistening stones of black and grey as far as her eyes could see, Winterfell was the perfect blend of strength, beauty, and power.

The pride Brandon felt at the sight of Ashara's spellbound expression, was everything he imagined when he first shared his plans with his father so long ago. Now that his dreams had become a reality, he couldn't wait to show his wife the splendor that awaited her. As he guided Ashara towards his waiting family, the Stark Lord leaned down and whispered the words he'd been wanting to say since the day he first laid eyes upon the woman of his dreams.

"Welcome to Winterfell...Lady Stark."

Casting:

Eddard Stark: Liam Hemsworth(young)

Hotto: Idris Elba

Mace Tyrell: Ray Winstone(young)

Olenna Tyrell: Diana Rigg

Tywin Lannister: Jeremy Irons

Kevan Lannister: Tony Curran

Ashara Dayne: Georgia Salpa

Princess Deria Martell: Catherine Zeta Jones

Brandon Stark: Chris Hemsworth