Title: The House of Metal

Category: TV Shows » Game of Thrones

Author: MovinTarget666

Language: English, Rating: Rated: T

Genre: Fantasy/Sci-Fi

Published: 11-11-15, Updated: 01-08-16

Chapters: 65, Words: 44,361

Chapter 1: Chapter 1

The House of Metal

"Where are we" a voice asks, the tone resigned, but not human. It sounds male, but has a strange twinge that Arya had never heard before.

She looks to Myca and is about to ask if he knows who is speaking before a new voice responds to the first, this one sounding far more human, "A place that already has a meteor."

"And?" The first voice prompts, trying to press for further information.

"And thus you do not need to make your own," The second voice replies. By this point Arya can't hold back her curiosity any further, and peeks past the tree she and Myca had sat for lunch behind.

"So you thought what? That I'd let them be?" The Speaker, the first one who spoke, has his back to Arya, and looks to be a giant of a man, even taller than the Hound, and wearing what looks to be the most form fitting suit of armor that the young Stark had ever lain eyes on.

"I'd hoped, but did not expect it," The second voice responds, the owner of which was red. That was all that Arya could really notice about him before Myca pulls her back around the tree. She turns to ask him what he wanted, but the look on his face tells her that he is terrified. Of what, she doesn't know, but then again, it could be a commonfolk thing to not get in the middle of arguments.

"Fair enough," The armored man replies, "So what did you hope I'd do? Fade away, let myself rust in some backwater corner of the galaxy? You know I'll be back to finish what I started."

"I know you'll try," the red man replies, his tone similar to that of her mother when Arya has to give her a new stitching project and she would smile and call it 'great.' Jon had called it 'patronizing.'

"You don't think I'll succeed?"

"I know you won't," The red man replies and then he tells the metal man, "And I'm sure that when you speak to the pair behind that tree you'll understand why."

Arya hears a shift in dirt, and looks to the side of the tree in time to see a face appear in front of her. What she sees at first doesn't really register, then, when she realizes exactly what was before her, her mouth drops open in shock.

In front of her was a man made of metal.

Myca, unlike Arya, is very vocal about his interpretation of the man, and gives a blood curdling scream before running off in terror.

"Ah, I see what you…" the metal man turns and stops talking, Arya watches metal eyes blink, then it chuckles, "Clever."

"What do you mean clever?" Arya asks, having regained most of her wits.

"He left when I went to check behind the tree," The metal man shakes his head, then stomps off towards the river, leaving Arya where she was.

The young Stark wasn't having any of that, and clambered over a tree branch and rushed in front of the metal man, her curiosity overcoming her good sense in this moment, "Wait! What are you!? WHO are you!?"

The metal man tilts his head, then shakes it and chuckles, muttering, "You humans."

Then his focus is squarely on her and he tells her, "My name, Ayra Stark, is Ultron."

Chapter 2: Chapter 2

House of Metal 2

Joffery Baratheon didn't really plan much, planning was more the forte of his ridiculous uncle, or the grandfather he'd heard so much about. Joffrey was a simple boy, in many ways. He did not think ahead, he could not count without his fingers, and he loved the color red. This last bit benefited him in two ways; it made his favorite pastime of opening small animals to see what lay within all the more fun, and it made the Stark girl all the more enjoyable.

The redheaded child of Ned Stark had been talking for upwards of five minutes, in a jilted sort of manner that endeared her to him, and made him look forward to all the things he would be able to do to her when she was his wife. Sansa Stark naturally knew none of what was going on inside her betrothed's head, and instead babbled on completely unaware of the impeding danger presented by the blond psychopath she was locked arms with.

The musings of both teens was interrupted by an incredulous question asked from around a bend in the path and a thicket of bush, "A mummer's tale!?"

Sansa could immediately identify the speaker as her sister, who had vanished from the camp after getting leave from their father. She had wondered where Arya had gotten to, and it seemed as though she had reached the river, and received some distressing news.

And apparently the news kept on coming, as a second voice became intelligible as Joffrey and Sansa came closer, "Indeed, the pratfalls of your family's lives and the destruction of your society as a whole is great entertainment for the masses."

It is at the end of this declaration that the pair finally turn the bend and see Arya and the man she is speaking with. The first thought on both their minds immediately upon seeing the man is 'Big' while the second varies from one to the other; Joffrey takes interested note of the red eyes of the figure who turns as they approach, while Sansa is far more concerned with the fact that the man was apparently looming over a sitting Arya.

Sansa, being the finely brought up girl that she was, promptly screams and hides behind Joffrey. The prince does much the same, though it comes out more as a quick shriek, and instead of hiding behind Sansa, he hides behind his sword. The eldest Baratheon raises his sword and in his most princely tone demands, "Step away!"

The metal man, twitches his head and then lowers his eyes, narrowing them as he smiles. Then he raises to full height, steps away from Arya.

"Sansa!" Arya groans out, "What are you doing!?"

"This… this… this… thing! Accosted you!" The elder sibling replies

"No he didn't," Arya shakes her head, then rubs it, "Ultron was just… giving me some bad news."

"So… Ultron… what kind of name is that then?" Joffrey snickers

"A name that means far more than yours ever will," Ultron replies, taking a step towards Joofrey and Sansa.

"Stay back!" Joffrey raises his sword a bit further, now trying his hardest to keep it level and aimed at Ultron's chest.

"You know," the metal man muses, not heeding Joffrey's warning, "Children shouldn't have weapons."

As he says this, his palm glows a sickly red, and as he clenches his fingers in, Joffrey's sword is wrenched from his hands and into Ultron's waiting one.

The now armed Ultron smiles down at the terrified elder children. This effect not at all helped by his red eyes glowing, and piercing right into their souls.

Chapter 3: Chapter 3

House of Metal 3

To declare that Ned Stark was worried would be to greatly underestimate his emotions, or overestimate if one judged only by appearance. Robert Baratheon, luckily, had known Ned for nearly his entire life, and gotten a good grip on his friend's emotional range.

Thus why he was the one to tell Ned, "Stop worrying, our chilcren could just be getting to know each other!"

Such a declaration didn't really help Ned's mood, in fact it probably added onto it, because why would it take until the break of dusk to get to know someone? He took till dusk to get to know Kat once, and that was how Robb was conceived.

He wasn't ready to be a grandfather just yet.

Thankfully his terror at that knew thought couldn't escalate into a full blow eyebrow raise, because at that moment the door to the room where he and Robert were in was thrust open and Jory Cassel and Jamie Lannister jump into the room.

The pair, who really before this moment hadn't been friendly or really acknowledged each other, share a conspiratory look. They lock eyes and seem to debate silently for a moment, then Jory sighs and steps forward, "Begging your pardon m'lords, but we've found Ladies Arya and Sansa, as well as the Prince."

"Apparently they made a friend in the woods," Jamie cuts in with a roll of his eyes.

"A friend?" Robert asks

"Yes, a tall… golem… I think the term from the Essos is," Jamie supplies

This really doesn't help the king and he prompts, "The fuck's a golem?"

"A man made of steel, apparently," Jamie shrugs, "Tyrion once showed me a book on greyscale, and he said it was like they were being turned into golems. I asked, and he explained."

"Our children have made friends with a man infected with dgreyscale!?" Ned asks, stepping forward and moving his arms to his sides, away from his chest.

"No m'lord," Jory shakes his head, "What the Kingslayer meant was that the man seems to be made of metal."

"Made of metal?" Ned furrows his brow

"Yessir," Jory nods, "Maester damn near keeled over when he first got a gander. Started ranting about witchcraft or something."

"Well, let's go meet this new friend of our children," Robert prompts

Ned nods, and the four head out of the building and into the camp. Standing in the middle of a large circle of gawking Lannister, Baratheon, and Stark men, stands a giant made of metal.

Robert gives a snort when he sees what the giant is holding: Joffrey held up by the back of his shirt, dangling upside down in its grip.

Ned however is following the eyes of his men, and his own mouth falls open in shock when he sees the Hound. The massive swornsword of the Prince hangs unsupported a full man's height off of the ground. Ned traces the Hound's terrified gaze back to the golem, which has a dark smile on its face, and a glowing hand outstretched towards the flying man.

"Now, are we ready to talk like civilized people?" the golem asks, his question directed at the Hound

"I'd fuckin sing! Just put me down!" the Hound practically begs, a new fear quickly joining his long standing one of fire. It didn't take a genius to know that being high without something to stand on meant falling, and falling meant death.

The Hound is lowered to the ground, and just as he does there is a great screech from the end of the circle opposite Ned and Robert, and Cersei Lannister's voice comes out, "Kill Him!"

Ned groans as almost without fail, all of the Lannister men draw their blade, as to the Baratheon men. His men don't, mostly because they seem to be in the back of the crowd for the most part, it also helps that he didn't draw his own sword.

"Belay that!" Robert bellows from beside him, and the fat king starts towards the golem.

The golem drops Prince Joffrey, and the boy gives an undignified grunt before crawling away from the giant metal monstrosity. He stops at his father's feet, and the king gives him a disapproving frown and a shake of the head before his attention returns to the metal man, "Who the hell are ya, then?"

"I am Ultron," The newly named giant declares

"What house are you from?" the king asks next, which begets him a decidedly unflattering look that lacks both patience and restraint.

The responding statement sums that feeling up quite nicely, "Is there anyone here who I can speak to that has more intelligence than a rock, that isn't a child?"

Ned swiftly steps in front of Robert, breaking the man's follow up rant and smoothly says, "I am Lord Eddard Stark, Hand of the King, Warden of the North, and Lord of Winterfell. What is it you want, Ultron?"

"I don't know!" Ultron declares, shaking his head, his right hand gesticulating near his head as his other does so by his waist, "I only came to your camp because I wanted to tell the father of that boy that his behavior is fairly poor. I also wanted to figure out if a theory of mine was correct."

"Was it?"

"It was," Ultron nods, "You look exactly like Sean Bean."

"Who?"

"I'll let your daughter explain," Ultron shrugs. Then he starts to raise into the air and as Ned's mouth grows ever wider, the now flying former world ender tells him, "I'm now off to talk to perhaps the only intelligent person that lives on this world."

Chapter 4: Chapter 4

House of Metal 4

Tyrion Lannister had a problem, one that greatly involved the company he was forced to keep. The Stark Bastard was alright, enjoyable even. The lad could do well when they reached the Wall, but that frozen monolith was still a day's journey away, so he would not be around much longer.

Tyrion's problem was that he was the smartest man in the room. He was the smartest man in any room even. He both loved and loathed this fact for the simple reason that it made for poor conversation, especially when whoever he was talking to has no interest in improving their minds and possibly adding to the collective intelligence in a conversation.

Tyrion relished the few intelligent conversations he'd had in his life; few enough to count, but painful too list. At the very top of that list was his wife. The woman who had married him, and was destroyed for it. He missed her often, and dearly; but he knew she was in a better place than before, mostly because he put her there. He also knew that she was better off without him, especially while his father still drew breath.

It was in the middle of one of his common fantasies about ending his father - perhaps on a privy, the horse's ass would hate the indignity of it – when there was a cry from behind him. The call was unusual, in that it was a call of surprise, rather than of danger.

Curios, Tyrion turns his head to look at the source of the cry, and he sees one of the veteran watchmen staring up at the sky and pointing. Others around the man were drawing weapons, and Tyrion's eyes turned to the swords in particular. The presence of blades seemed unnecessary for a flying object; and this knowledge prompted the turn of the dwarf's head to where the watchman was pointing.

There was a massive metal man flying towards them.

"What is that?" He hears the Stark Bastard ask.

Turning towards the lad, Tyrion replies, "It looks like a golem."

"A what?" Benjen Stark asks, stepping up to Tyrion's horse

"A man made of metal, and given life through magic," Tyron explains

The two Starks share a look, clearly expressing their doubt, and are about to articulate this when a new voice interrupts, "No Magic, Tyrion, only knowledge."

Tyrion whips his head around and gently lowering to the ground is the golem, who had just spoken, and rather than be put off or terrified by the close proximity of the figure he instead returns to standard form and retorts, "Are they not the same thing?"

The golem raises what could easily be described as eyebrows and shrugs its shoulders before nodding, "True, as Arthur C. Clarke once said, 'any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.'"

"A nice way of saying we're stupid," Jon Snow notes; prompting both Tyrion and the golem to turn their attention to him

Looking the lad over for a moment, the golem nods, "Smart kid."

"I have been teaching him," Tyrion says proudly, which gifts him a flat glare from the bastard boy. Ignoring the glare he proceeds to ask, "And what brings you here …?"

"Ultron," The golem replies, "And I'm here for – "

Before he can finish, one of the watchmen takes a swing at his back and faster than expected from such a massive being, he grabs the watchman by the throat and lifts him into the air. The golem gives the man a disgusted look, looks to be about to say something, then snaps the man's neck and throws him away.

Turning back to a now terrified trio of Tyrion, Benjen, and Jon, the golem finishes as though nothing had happened, "As I was saying, I'm here for intelligent conversation."

Chapter 5: Chapter 5

House of Metal 5

"Tywin Lannister is a moron."

This was not a statement that Tyrion had ever expected to hear, not even from himself on the most drunken of days. His father had been a stable rock of cool intelligence for his entire life. He may hate his father, but he knew him well enough to know that he was not a, as Ultron put it, 'moron.'

Jon Snow does what Tyrion would have and asks for clarification, "Why do you say that?"

Many of the other Watchmen around the small campfire turn their attention to the monstrous metal man, eyes asking the same question. Ultron sits upon nothing, floating in the air in the position of a relaxed lord in a comfortable chair. Tyrion doubts that the golem would ever deign to dirty his feet upon the ground; but he is proven wrong about that almost as soon as he has the thought, as Ultron lowers his feet to the ground and starts pacing around the fire, and around the now nervous Watchmen.

Tyrion could tell that the fear was something that Ultron relished. He did not seem to relish it in a way that the Mountain did, but in a way more like the man who he is in the process of insulting. Fear was a form of respect for Ultron, and Ultron demanded respect.

"Tywin Lannister has wasted the potential of his inheritance, and has done nothing to improve his lands for the people within them," Ultron notes, "It is not that he should, it is that he is wasting tons of finances on pointlessness, when he could be advancing matters of industry and commerce."

"Gold is the end all for the Warden of the West," The metal man concludes, "And for that, he is an idiot."

"Doesn't everyone want gold?" One of the watchmen, a former thief, asks.

"Gold is a step," Ultron probably would have spat on the ground if he could, "You humans, so absorbed in your precious wealth that you fail to realize that it is only a means to an end!"

"Oy!" another watchman stands, stepping right up to Ultron, "You never 'ad to starve cause you didn't have the gold the feed yer family!"

"Very true," Ultron nods, leaning down until his face is nearly pressing into the now very nervous watchman's, and smiles, "Thank you for proving my point."

With that, the golem turns and walks to a particularly large boulder and sits down upon it. His action strikes Tyrion as odd, after all, Ultron had not hesitated to murder a man before them not half a day ago. To spare the watchman that stood up to him seemed almost out of character.

Being the curious sort, and guarded by the knowledge that Ultron actually wanted to speak with him, Tyrion walks over to the metal man. Before he can even ask a question, the metal being speaks, "It strikes me that I am incredibly out of my depth."

"Really?" Tyrion asks, pulling his wineskin and taking a sip, "I find that wine and reading tend to fix that."

Ultron looks down at the dwarf and gives him a grin, "Oh, with your father I do not doubt it."

"How do you know my father? Or anything about Westros for that matter?" Tyrion asks, the burning question finally coming out, "I don't doubt that word would have spread about a metal man to all corners of the seven kingdoms if you were anything but a recent arrival."

"That is because I am a recent arrival," Ultron replies with a smirk, "And no doubt how I came to be here will be an interesting tale to hear."

Tyrion sits on a log and claps his hands together, "So let's hear it, then."

Ultron then proceeds to break Tyrion Lannister's brain.

Chapter 6: Chapter 6

House of Metal 6

Alliser Thorne hated a lot of people. Most people, really. His patience was thin, his fuse was short, and his cock was small; all of which Ultron seemed to take great joy in pointing out.

These insults prompted Tyrion one question, "How in the world do you know that last?"

Ultron does not bother answering, merely smirking at the visibly enraged Master-at-Arms. The glare that the white haired man directed at the golem would have made Tyrion nervous, had it been aimed at him. It was for this reason that he gladly retreated from the soon to come confrontation to find his temporary quarters.

"A moment, Lord Lannister," An aged voice requests from behind him as he enters the castle interior. Turning, the dwarf can see Jeor Mormont standing at a window, gazing down into the courtyard, no doubt at Ultron and Alliser. Tyrion does not vocalize his acknowledgement, merely stepping up beside the Lord Commander and looking through the same window.

From the sound of steel clashing, it was clear to the lord that Ultron's provocation had worked. Tyrion rests his head on his hands, which lay upon the window sill, and waits for Lord Mormont to say something. He does not have to wait long, "What can you tell me about your friend?"

"Not much, I am afraid," Tyrion replies, "Only that he is from far off, and knows far more than could be expressed in a simple Mummer's tale."

"A mummer's tale?"

"He has told up that he hails from a land where our lives are nothing more than tales told to the masses," Tyrion reveals, "We are like the bastard of a mummer's tale and a Dornish party."

Joer looks down at Tyrion, not sure what to think. Looking back through the window he ponders the consequences of knowing of people through caricatures, rather than reality. Unfortunately, the Lord Commander could imagine it quite well, his some was a testament to that.

"So he knows of our pasts, our lives, our mistakes before we even encountered him?"

"It is more than that," Tyrion shakes his head, then winces as the sound of splattering and breaking bone reaches them. Looking at the carnage wrought by Ultron, he frowns then continues, "It appears that he has knowledge of things to come. The foreseeable future is now his to mold."

Joer looks down at the metal man, and red eyes lock with his. As Ultron's mouth spreads into a wide smile, Joer realizes that the metal man could hear them. And he had just heard them debate the validity of his tale, of his honesty.

If Joer were not a harder man, he would have no doubt said something along the lines of, "Oh fuck."

Thankfully Tyrion beat him to the punch.

Chapter 7: Chapter 7

House of Metal 7

Leaving the Wall was a relief. The biting cold, the newly born fear of heights, and the knowledge that less former rapists would want to remove his head for being friends with a murderous Golem. Yes, Tyrion was happy to be on his way from the wall.

Ultron looked equally as happy, especially as they approached Winterfell. With the metal man's expression in mind, Tyrion had no choice but to ask, "And what has you so giddy?"

Ultron turns his attention to Tyrion and gives him a flat stare, "I do not get 'giddy,' merely enthused."

"And what are you so enthused about?"

"I am about to destroy the course of history," Ultron tells him, "Something I doubt that anyone else could say with certainty."

"Destroy History?" Tyrion was more than nervous now. This was like seeing the bloody remains of Alliser Throne all over again, and he had to head it off, "I would appreciate if you refrained from doing that until I am at a safe distance!"

"Sorry old boy," Ultron's smirk is terribly condescending, "But I feel that exposing your family's affair far sooner than it would be will change more than enough to make living here interesting."

"My family's affair?" Tyrion really hoped that Ultron wasn't talking about what he thought he was about.

"The one that has resulted in three illegitimate children in line for a throne," Ultron replies.

That wasn't at all what Tyrion had thought he was going to go for. What affair would cause… "No…"

"Yes."

"No."

"I'm afraid so."

"Oh, dear."

"Indeed."

The revelation sank into Lord Lannister, and he frowned in both disgust and worry. After all, he may hate his sister and her eldest son, but he did love his brother and his two youngest. Unfortunately for him, he did not have the time to really think of a way to talk Ultron out of revealing this before the gates of Winterfell were upon them.

"Lord Tyrion," The cold greeting from the eldest Stark did not bode well for the rest of Tyrion's day. Before he could offer a witty reply of some kind, Robb had already turned his attention to Ultron, who was gazing at an equally tall man who was holding the youngest Stark boy.

"Hodor."

"I agree, this is going to be fun."

The simpleton smiles and nods in agreement, much to the confusion of the rest of the hall.

Chapter 8: Chapter 8

House of Metal 8

Robb Stark did not like the idea of being like the King, especially after meeting the man. But he was sorely tempted after the day's events.

The young Lord of Winterfell took a sip of the goblet that he forced himself to keep singular and thought to the first moment in which his day became an utter nightmare, the moment that Tyrion Lannister and his massive friend entered his father's hall.

Robb had not encountered the dwarf lord during the man's last stay in Winterfell, a fact that had made it all the easier to dislike him for the simple fact of being a Lannister. As soon as the small man had entered his hall, Robb had been angry, tense, and a few other things that he simply did not wish to be at the same time.

And then Ultron spoke, and told him more in ten minutes than he would have guessed in his entire lifetime. Something that would apparently not be much longer. The knowledge of his upcoming demise brought a frown to the Stark's face, and a desire to call forth the Boltons and kill their patriarch burning even hotter.

Shutting his eyes and taking a breath, he shakes his head and strides to his desk, and looks down at the letter he has written. Details of Ultron's revelations spelled out clearly for his father, something that the metal giant had warned against, and something that he could not bring himself to keep from the true Lord of Winterfell.

"I'd heed his advice," a voice notes from the doorway.

Turning, Robb sees Theon holding a half empty bottle of wine, pointing it at him, "My father has a right to know."

"If you tell him, he'll tell the king, and the king'll kill the queen… probably the roy- well, the children… and then declare war on the Lannisters," Theon lists the things that Ultron had mused when contemplating the consequences of revealing the Lannister incest to them, "And there is a fair chance that your father will fall in the confusion, or he will be too late and the king will be gored and you'll have done as well as swing the sword yourself."

Robb slams his hand into the table and rubs his mouth, "Then what should I do? Nothing?"

Theon shakes his head, stepping over to his friend, "First, I say find this 'Talisa' that you'll apparently fall madly in love with."

"Of course that's where you would go," Robb shakes his head, "I would not pretend to know what I am thinking when I break an oath to the Freys to marry her, but I am glad that there will be no oaths to Freys to break when I do find her."

"Oh?" Theon raises an eyebrow.

Robb nods, "If war does erupt, Walder Frey will allow me the Twins, or I will end his house."

"Bit harsh," Theon notes.

Robb shakes his head, then he stares down at the letter on the table, sighs, and crumples it before sending it into the fire, "Gods be willing, things will not go as Ultron has said."

"And if they do?"

"We will kill them all."

Chapter 9: Chapter 9

House of Metal 9

Tyrion and Ultron stared at one another across a cyvasse board. The half-man could not help but smirk as he watched the metal man look down at the board, "Unsure of your next move?"

Ultron nods, "Where I am from, the game of chess is the dominant one, not this."

"So?"

"So I am learning."

"You didn't already know how to play? I would have thought that with such extensive knowledge of my homeland, a simple game would have been easy."

Ultron looks up at that, "It is precisely because it is so simple that I did not care to learn it. I have told you that I was planning the destruction of humanity, haven't I?"

"Yes, you have," Tyrion takes a gulp of wine and mutters, "Thank you for reminding me once more."

"Oh do relax," the golem chuckles as he finally moves a piece on the board, "There's no need for me to actually do it here."

"Of course not," Tyrion sets his cup down and rubs his forehead, "All we have to look forward to are dragons and undead. Thank you ever so much for choosing to let them end us, rather than doing it yourself."

Ultron smirks, "Oh I am still quite capable of ending you my friend, I just do it differently now."

Tyrion looks down at the board and groans, he'd been beaten. He looks up as Ultron stands and starts for the door, "Where are you off to?"

"I think I'll a look around," the metal man replies, "After all, this is only my second medieval castle."

"Medieval?" Tyrion asks, getting up to follow the giant.

"A period of time much like yours, hundreds of years ago from my home's perspective."

Tyrion lets that sink in, just like he has to let everything that Ultron tells him sink in.

While the dwarf is processing, he follows the metal man through the castle, eventually ending up in the great hall. Tyrion looks up as sound seems to cease, and spots the tense Stark family staring at him and Ultron. Thinking that now would be as good a time as any to present the crippled Bran with the diagrams he had drawn up, he makes his way to the table.

"I apologize for interrupting," He says as he gets close enough, "But I felt that it would a good time to present you with this."

He holds out the parchment he had written his diagrams on towards the young Stark, which the boy takes and reads. Looking up at him in confusion, the lad turns to his brother for a way to response. Robb takes the hint and asks, "And what have you given my brother, Lord Tyrion?"

"Diagrams for a saddle," Tyrion explains, "It should hold him in place so that he can ride."

Bran looks excitedly down at the plans, reading them more carefully than before. He still does not understand the vast majority of what is written, but he understands enough that he needs to bring it to the blacksmith and get it made as soon as possible.

While this was going on, Ultron was in the process of staring at Hodor, waiting. When it finally came, the change was clear, "You are new."

"And you are old."

"Indeed I am," Hodor nods, then introduces himself, "I am Brynden Rivers."

"I know who you are," Ultron nods

"I am aware," The Greenseer nods, "I was visited by your progeny."

"My vision saw fit to tell you of my nature?" The metal man tilts his head

"He did, and he requested I attempt to guide you," Hodor's possessor nods, "But I know the foolishness of directing the destructive. I will have no part in your games. I only request you leave the boy out of it."

Ultron looks over to Bran Stark, "I have nothing planned concerning him."

Hodor nods, "Then we have an understanding."

And as quickly as the presence had arrived, it departed.

Chapter 10: Chapter 10

House of Metal 10

It was a happy day in Winterfell, for Tyrion Lannister and his metal friend were leaving its walls. Robb forced himself to remain stoic and not smile like a drunken loon, which was a far call from how Theon chose to react. His smile was wide enough for two all on its own.

Below them, at the gates of the ancient Stark Castle, Tyrion was settling down on his horse as Ultron waited perhaps a touch impatiently. The gentle and rhythmic ding of the metal man's fingers tapping against his arm assured the Stark and Greyjoy of the real attitude of the being that had caused them no end of grief in the week he had been in attendance.

He'd even gone so far as to hold deep philosophical debates with Hodor of all people. Robb refused to believe the maid that had claimed to hear the simpleton speak as though he were a Maester. That was almost worse than the strange reverence that the residents of the castle had shown to the metal man after he had displayed his ability to fly.

Fear, respect, and faith were all things that Ultron seemed to revel in, and he had done nothing to dissuade their worship. He was worse than the tales of corrupt Septons that his Father had told him resided within King's Landing.

There was no reason to celebrate the departure of the metal man and the dwarf, but Robb still could not help himself when he watched them exit his home. Then he grinned as they vanished into the distance as Ultron tore Tyrion from his horse and flew off to the south.

Tyrion on the other hand was not happy.

His emotion at this point in his life could be summed up in one word, but he insisted on three, bowel loosening fear. And due to this fact he was very glad that he had forgone breakfast on this morning due to a more substantive and painful hangover than usual. Looking back, and not at the ground in any way, he figured that the reason he was now being dragged unceremoniously through the air was because Ultron had very, very little patience.

"You don't know how to wait, do you?" Tyrion asks his metal manhandler, though he cannot be sure that he managed to actually speak, thanks to the volume of the wind.

Nevertheless, Ultron was quick to answer, slowing down so that Tyrion could hear, "I have been waiting for weeks, and I am done!"

"What have you been waiting for?"

"Us to go to your capital."

"Why would we go to the capital?"

"Because I don't plan on killing your father for a while and if we go to your residence then he'd be dead in a day."

"What!?"

"I very much despise men like your father," Ultron explains, "Or so I've learned. Tywin, Strucker, the depraved nuisance that is Hydra."

"What in the hells is Hydra?" Tyrion demands

"Imagine the House of Black and White," Ultron tells him

"Oh," Tyrion blinks, and before he can ask for more

"Now imagine they liked to burn cities and blame it on other people."

"They did something like that?"

"On more than one occasion," Ultron nods, then he frowns, "And a pair of very dear friends of mine were duped in such a way."

"If you knew did you tell them?"

"Of course! They just didn't care!"

"They didn't care?"

"Their anger was at the manufacturer, not the army."

"I don't understand!"

"They blamed the blacksmith for the weapon rather than the killer for the murder."

"Stupid."

Tyrion is whipped to face Ultron, "Do not insult my friends."

The Lannister's eyes widen and he raises his hands in acceptance, "Naturally, just… commenting on their logic."

"I am aware of the flaw in it," Ultron tells him, "That is why it was so easy to use."

Chapter 11: Chapter 11

House of Metal 11

Tyrion had not expected to reach King's Landing before the tournament of the Hand, but apparently Ultron had impeccable timing, for they touched down on the ground a mere hundred yards from the jousting arena.

Naturally he didn't learn this right away, and it was only a surprised, "Uncle?" that brought his head from the ground that he was hugging with all his might.

Looking up, he had the pleasure of seeing his favorite niece, Myrcella. He smiled at her, got to his feet and walked over to her, "My dear, you grow more beautiful with each passing day!"

Myrcella smiled at the comment, but then frowned as her original inquiry returned to her, "How are you here? It would have taken you weeks to return from the wall, and I thought you were to visit Lannisport before returning to the Capital?"

"Indeed you are correct, but fortunately for both my feet and your company, my new friend chose to expedite my journey," Tyrion waves towards Ultron, leaning against a barn in amusement.

The princess yips in fright and jumps back, nearly tripping over her skirts. It is only with a quick reach and grab by the metal behemoth that saves her from falling in the mud, "Careful now."

Myrcella stills at the sound of the voice, drawing her eyes up to the source, and stares Ultron in the face. The poor girl gives a small giggle of terror before her eyes roll up into the back of her head and she faints.

Tyrion cannot help but snort at the expression upon the golem's face, though his amusement is quickly wiped away by a sudden cry of surprise and fear from behind him. Turning, he is gifted with the sight of his sister staring like a fish at Ultron and her daughter.

"Guards!" She shrieks and nearly instantly about ten Lannister men and two Kingsguard are around her, "Kill him and return my daughter to me!"

The men rush forward to slay the metal man, and almost immediately they were given an object lesson about facing a being that could go toe to toe with gods.

The first man was caught, his helmet clutched in the rip of Ultron's massive hand. He only managed a scream of surprise before he was bodily thrown into one of his companions. The force of it knocked the other man back, broke his neck, and got him skewered by the downed man's blade.

The second man lost his arm as Ultron deftly caught his sword and tore it from his grasp, bringing it down and through his flesh. The man fell to his knees in shock and the remaining attackers paused in their assault by the casual and one handed brutality of the action.

Ultron snorts at them, and sets the princess next to Tyrion before turning back to the men, "Well?"

That was enough to get them to move, and they charged at him as one. Ultron did not bother moving this time, as he did not need to make sure that his friend's niece remained unharmed. There was a clanging sound, and several of the attackers stepped back in fear, while others simply stared at their blades, stopped dead by the golem's form.

Ultron did not give them time to regroup, and he splayed his hands, blasting the men who did not retreat back. He was upon the first in a second, snapping his neck with a quick jerk. Then he pointed at two of the others and a quick blast of energy ended the men with massive holes in their chests.

There were clangs as another of the Lannister men tried to get his back while he was unaware, and in return he turned and tore the man in two.

"What the hell is going on here!?" A familiar voice bellows, and Robert Baratheon steps off of the stands and into view. Upon seeing the carnage he brings his eyes to Ultron, "Care to explain!?"

"Your wife told these men to kill me, I returned the favor," Ultron shrugs

"His wife!?" Cersei growls, "I am the Queen and you shall address me as such."

Ultron looks at her, and a smile spreads across his metallic visage and he tells her, "No."

The queen clearly did not know how to respond to that, as it was clearly evident that no matter what she tried he could just ignore it and move on. It was not often that something like that happened, her father being the only other case that she could contemplate such disrespect coming from.

"Sir Barristan, take the queen and… is that my daughter?" Robert catches sight of Myrcella laying in the grass next to where Tyrion was watching the events play out with amusement.

"She fainted," The dwarf explains.

Robert nods, and turns back to the eldest of the kingsguard, "Take the queen and the princess to their quarters to rest, they've had a long day.

Barristan Selmy nods and steps over to Myrcella, picking her up, he gives Ultron an appraising look, then departs with a, "This way, your majesty."

Cersei follows, more to ensure her daughter's health than anything else, and Robert looks about the carnage strewn about the grass, "Well isn't this a great bloody mess."

Ultron shrugs.

Chapter 12: Chapter 12

House of Metal 12

The reunion of Ultron and Arya Stark was an interesting one. More to do with the fact that the first thing that the young girl said was, "you're an ass," than anything else.

Tyrion watched with interest as Ultron took a seat next to the Hand of the King and his two daughters, ignoring the groaning chair. The dwarf had seen many reactions to Ultron, from many people, especially in Winterfell. And no matter what he had seen, no matter how many times he had been seen, Ultron always elicited a second glance filled with some measure of fear.

Arya Stark did not hold such emotion in her eyes as she gazed up at the metal man, instead they were filled with a great deal of indignation, and probably some measure of anger. Tyrion could not fathom the reason for these emotions, until the girl demanded, "Give it back!"

Ultron gazed down at her with something akin to disinterest, "Give what back?"

"My sword!" The girl demanded.

Ultron blinked at her, "I did not take your sword."

"Then where in the seven hells is it?"

"Perhaps you left it on the river bank?" The golem waved his hand.

Arya's lips thinned, her eyes narrowed, and in the end she shook her head, "No… I didn't bring it to the river."

"Where did you last see it?" Ultron asks, a grin forming on his face

"When we reached… the… castle…" Arya stops talking, and groans as she rubs her eyes, "Damn! Septa Mordane! She must have found it!"

The young girl almost took off back in the direction of the castle, if her father had not laid a hand on her shoulder and told her, "Stay, you will have it back tomorrow."

Arya looked up at her father, clearly wanting to object, but nodded and turned her attention to the jousting.

"I must say, Lord Tyrion, I did not expect you back in the capital so soon," A breathy male voice notes from behind the group.

Tyrion turned and saw a face he often didn't like in the shape of Petyr Baelish. He forces a smile on and notes, "And I honestly did not expect to be back so soon. Fortunately, my friend here was rather impatient and did not wish to see the joys of the road for longer than he had to!"

Ultron turns his head and smiles down at Baelish, and the man nods, doing his best to not show his fear. Petyr wasn't a stupid man, and in fact he was perhaps one of the more clever men alive, and he knew not to poke the bear, but he could not stop himself from looking it in the eye and noting, "Ah, yes, I'd heard of you. The Queen has done nothing but rage about your continued existence, and the prince has all but declared war. He and young Arya over here nearly came to blows over you."

"Really, I didn't think my short stay would cause that much of a reaction," Ultron comments with a contemplative look.

"You are unlike anything I've ever heard of, and much the same can be said about the rest of Westros that isn't on friendly terms with Tyrion here," Baelish replies, rolling his head in the direction of the dwarf lord.

Ultron turns his attention to Tyrion, prompting him to explain with a, "Well?"

"Well what?" Tyrion asks, "How did I know what you were? I read, Ultron, you know that, and you are not the first golem to exist, merely the most recent."

"Interesting," Ultron notes, and he would have said more if not for the commotion from the jousting pit. Turning, all three men are greeted with the sight of a decapitated horse and a massive man charging Ser Loras Tyrell, only to be intercepted by Sandor Clegane.

"The Mountain that Rides," Tyrion notes of the larger man

Ultron nods, taking the identity in, and Tyrion smiles to himself, glad that his friend did not in fact know everything.

Chapter 13: Chapter 13

House of Metal 13

Watching the battle between the Cleganes was an entertaining, if bitter, affair. Many in the audience silently prayed that the larger brother would fall and the danger that he was to the more noble houses would be ended.

They honestly did not expect their prayers to be answered, and so it was a shock when the Mountain over reached on a swing, to a debilitating amount, and suddenly his head was off and on the ground. There was a hush that fell over the audience, and especially over Sandor Clegane. The Hound stared at the headless body that was taking a bit longer to realize it was dead fall to the ground.

Tyrion whistled in appreciation for the deed done, and out of the corner of his eye he watched as the red glow dimmed from Ultron's hand. The dwarf smiled, glad that his father's chief kneecapper was dead. Gregor Clegane had been a bastard, and if half the stories that the Lannister had heard were true, an unrepentant monster.

It did not occur to Tyrion to call out Ultron, the same could not be said for the youngest Stark present, "What did you do?"

"What I wanted," Ultron replies simply. Tyrion watches as the metal man's mouth parts and the red glow that comes from deep within him becomes visible.

"Why…?" Arya prompts, but stops at the sight of Ultron's face, finally turning to him.

"I once knew a girl named Wanda," Ultron notes, "And Gregor would have liked her. For that he deserved to die."

"For a girl he'll never encounter?" Tyrion asks, trying to grasp the flimsy response. He is after all aware of exactly how far away this 'Wanda' must be for Ultron to have known her and Tyrion not to have.

"Yes."

Tyrion sees Arya about to ask for more information but he grabs her attention and shakes his head. She very much looks like she wants to object, but the momentary distraction is all that Ned Stark needs to intercede and ask, "You killed the Mountain?"

"Of course not," Ultron snorts, "I think we all saw his brother do that job quite nicely."

This statement causes a general look back at the arena, where the Hound was being given a large amount of gold, a great deal of applause, and a completely unnecessary knighting.

"True," The Hand of the King nods, knowing that the metal man had just gotten away with murder, and knowing that he had no way to prove it.

Chapter 14: Chapter 14

House of Metal 14

Petyr Baelish had been having a good day, one of lucrative possibilities and new alliances. Those alliances, or rather, that alliance was what he was most enthusiastic about. After all, it wasn't every day that a metal man that can orchestrate the death of a monster on the level of Gregor Clegane falls on your lap.

His near giddiness at the possibilities that using such a being helped him miss the presence on his porch as he entered his chambers. He poured himself some wine, took a sip, and chuckled to himself. It was only then that he was alerted to the intruder, as the unmistakable voice of Ultron asks, "I do hope you'll let me in on the joke?"

Baelish spits out his wine in shock and spins around, finally seeing the golem relaxing in his favorite chair. Littlefinger takes a moment to catch his breath and stop coughing before he asks, "How did you get into my chambers?"

"Your guards think they're alert," Ultron notes, "They aren't. Didn't bother looking up."

"Up?" Baelish tries to get a grip on why they would need to look up, after all, he had men on the roof looking down to check the walls.

Ultron shakes his head in apparent disappointment before returning his gaze to the city scape that Baelish had the privilege of seeing.

"What are you doing in my chambers?" Baelish decides to ask, after the metal man seems to forget his existence.

"I realized that I don't have the same resources here than I did where I originated," Ultron explains, "As such, I need a steady source of finances."

"And what does this have to do with me?" Baelish asks, dreading the answer more than he let on; after all, Ultron had killed the un-killable not half a day ago.

"I have two options for you, Baelish," Ultron finally stands, and for the first time Petyr is truly struck by just how massive he was. Twice as tall as the human, Ultron towered over him and explained, "You give me access to your wealth, all of it. Or you die and I spend a few days becoming your replacement."

"If you could replace me so easily, why don't you?" Baelish asks, hating himself for doing so, but knowing that he wouldn't be able to sleep without an answer

"Because I don't care about your business," Ultron tells him, "You do. I just need your wealth, I don't need to take over your operation to get it. Merely put the fear of god in you.

Baelish fell back against his table and leaned backwards as Ultron lowers his face down until they were almost touching, "So tell me Petyr, do you fear god?"

Staring up into the red eyes of the most dangerous man he'd ever met, Littlefinger knew he only had one answer.

Chapter 15: Chapter 15

House of Metal 15

Ultron had guards, and Tyrion had no idea how he had gotten them. The metal man had never professed to possess wealth of any kind, nor had he ever invested what little coin Tyrion had lent him when he asked for it.

Speaking of, "If you're well to do enough to afford guards, I assume you're well to do enough to pay me back?"

Ultron blinks, looking down at his small friend, ignoring the King as he ranted about the Targaryen lass from across the sea, and says, "I owe you money?"

"You borrowed six crowns when we reached king's landing," Tyrion reminded him, "What for I haven't the faintest idea, but I would appreciate having them back."

"You're going to nag me about six crowns?"

"It's the principal of the thing," Tyrion shrugs, "If my father learnt that I let a debt go he would do something unpleasant."

Ultron rolls his eyes at that, which brings them back in the direction of the king, who was glaring at the pair of them in misplaced anger, "Yes?"

"Since you seem so fucking amused, why don't you share your opinion on the dragon bitch?" Robert growls, as the rest of the court turns its attention to Ultron.

The metal man is unaffected by their attention, instead recalling what he knew of Daenerys Targaryen, and he had an idea, "Kill the brother, he's the one that wants to rule, and offer some form of alliance to the Dothraki, perhaps some good that they could only get by crossing the narrow sea."

"You want me to ignore that the bitch'll have an army at her beck and fucking call!?" Robert asks incredulously

"The Targaryen girl is property of the Dothraki hordes of Khal Drogo," Ultron tells him with a smile, "Kill her and they may well conquer their fear of water in favor of vengeance. Kill the brother, and you prove you are strong enough to reach across the sea and silence your competition."

Most of the court certainly look like they hadn't contemplated the consequences of killing the Targaryen girl, and some fearful looks were passed between attendants. Baratheon was not so easily swayed however, turning in disgust at Ultron's suggestion and growling, "Those fuckers don't get to live. Not after…"

Cersei entering the court room negates whatever the king was intending to say. Her sweeping into the room was followed by her eldest son, and his ever present shadow. The Hound looked around, and spotted Ultron. Tyrion was shocked when the last Clegane gave Ultron a nod of respect, which the metal man returned.

"He knows?" Tyrion looks up at Ultron with a raised eyebrow.

"He knows he isn't good enough to have ended his brother, and that I can move men with but a gesture," Ultron replies, "Contrary to popular belief, I do thing Sandor is far smarter than most give him credit for, murderous butcher though he is."

Tyrion gives the Hound an impressed look, before noting, "I may need to find someone like him to add to our conversations then."

"I think I know someone who fits the bill," Ultron agrees, looking down at his friend, "Be wary though, he is expensive."

"Please, I am a Lannister," Tyrion rolls his eyes and the pair share a chuckle before their attention gets drawn into the latest brawl of the royal family.

Chapter 16: Chapter 16

House of Metal 16

Bronn didn't know what to think of his new employer, cause he sure as hell wasn't as paranoid as the usual lordling that wanted some honest help. Tyrion Lannister was small, sure enough, but he wasn't a nervous wreck. Even more impressive was the somewhat dispassionate way in which he regarded the flying metal giant that found him on the road to the Eyre.

Ultron, the being had identified himself as, was just the sort of folk that Bronn liked. He didn't concern himself with morals, or honor, or even common courtesy. He did what he wanted, even if that included flying half the world away to hire some sellsword at twice his usual price.

Bronn really liked Ultron, and he especially liked Tyrion after the dwarf had laughed, and paid him triple to steal him away from his metal friend. Bronn liked both them, and the fact that they had made him more wealthy in about six hours than he had been in his entire life.

"So, you're my brother's new sellsword?" A male voice asks from behind him a few days after he gets hired, and a turn reveals that the speaker is none other than Jamie Lannister.

"Aye," Bronn nods

"Are you good with your sword?" Jamie raises an eyebrow

"Better than anyone I've ever faced," is the retort, given with a tight smile

"Ah, yes, how would you like to test that theory?"

Bronn's reply is to raise an eyebrow.

"Not against me, of course," Jamie assures him, which he finds mildly insulting, "But it seems that the Hand has quit from his position and my dear sister wishes for me to express her anger at his apparent disregard for her husband."

Bronn rolls his eyes, really not wanting to get into a royal family squabble. The bickering in the court had become so legendary that he'd heard of it even as far out on the road as he was. Many a drunken laugh was had at the King's expense, and even more at the many rumors that the Queen was apparently as dry down there as she was in personality.

"I'm being paid to guard Lord Tyrion," Bronn tells the kingslayer, "So unless you're willing to pay more than he is, I'm gonna have to decline."

Jamie raises an eyebrow at the strait refusal, he knew how much the man was being paid after all. And he certainly wasn't going to even bother trying to match the cost. With a smile of understanding, he nods and takes his leave.

Bronn watches the man depart before returning to his path towards Tyrion's quarters. He enters without care, ignoring the squeal of one of Tyrion's women, and sits himself next to Ultron, noting, "So, apparently, the Hand's gonna get cut by the Kingslayer."

Ultron nods, "As expected."

Chapter 17: Chapter 17

House of Metal 17

Ned Stark was in a bad position, something that he had not expected to find himself in. He had trusted Petyr Baelish, a childhood friend of his wife's, he had the city watch, he even had the evidence. He had not had his Robert with him.

There was no time more than now that Eddard hated what his friend had become, because if he were not the womanizing, hunt loving, drunk that he was, he would still be alive. And if he were alive, Ned wouldn't be in the Black Cells wallowing near a pile of his own filth.

Though it wasn't all bad, he had managed to get word to his son through Varys, or at least he hoped he had. He really wouldn't put it past the eunuch to go straight to the queen with his message. After Baelish, he really wouldn't put it past anyone to do anything in this accursed city.

What he had not expected was for Varys to take the message to the Lannister's Golem. The sight of the metallic behemoth responsible for the Mountain's demise was not one that filled him with comfort. It was especially less so due to the menacing red lights that emanated from him and lit the dark of the cells as he smiled.

"Greetings, Lord Stark," Ultron acknowledges him with a smirk and a laugh, "My how even the most righteous of men can be struck down so terribly."

Ned looked up at the being through dirty hair, unable to bring himself into the mood necessary to retort. Instead he simply asks, "What do you want?"

"I want the North," Ultron tells him honestly, then tilts his head and adds, "And the South. And most of the rest of the world along with them."

Ned blinks up at him in confusion, then dawning understanding, "You have come to kill me."

"Oh no," Ultron assures him, "Joffrey will do that for me. Whether you agree to take the black or not, he will decide to end your life without a care. No, what I am here to do, is to make you an offer."

"An offer?" Ned blinks again, and leans forward.

"Yes," Ultron nods, "You will plunge the land into civil war by stating the truth during your execution. You will make sure the world knows that Joffrey, Tommen, and Myrcella are know as bastards born of incest. You will make it known that it is for the knowledge of this that you are being executed."

"And in return?" Ned asks as he leans back, resigned to his own fate

"I will make sure the rest of your family survives the civil war that you create," Ultron tells him, "And know that if you do not agree, the fates of those you love will be far darker than you would ever pray for your worst of enemies."

"How?" Ned begs, needing to know that he is making the right decision

"Your youngest will be lost to the wilds, and raised by a wildling woman. Your crippled son will venture beyond the wall, and be lot to the world. Your eldest will be murdered as he watches his wife and unborn child slaughtered. Your wife shall have her throat slit after beholding his death. Your bastard will be betrayed as he becomes Lord of the Watch, and murdered. Your youngest daughter will join the House of Black and White, and your last child shall be raped in various ways for the rest of her life."

As he lists the fates of the Starks to their patriarch, he can see the resolve of the man breaking with every utterance. He crouches down in front of the man, "Agree to my demands and your family shall live, refuse, and the fates that I have told you shall come to pass."

"All I need do is admit the truth?"

"The truth will set you free," Ultron smiles cruelly

Chapter 18: Chapter 18

House of Metal 18

Arya Stark didn't know what to do with herself; she didn't know if she should try and rescue her father, try and flee north, or try and ask Ultron for help. He seemed like he would help, or at least like he enjoyed her company enough to help her.

Thinking on the metal man, she sighed. He had to have known that this was coming, and done nothing to stop it. How was she supposed to feel about that? Her friend let her father face execution or the Black, what kind of friend did that.

"Beggin your pardon, miss," a nervous voice coughs from behind her.

Spinning fast, Arya has needle against the throat of a boy maybe a year or five older than herself, with black hair and blue, earnest eyes. The Lady Stark blinks, narrows her eyes, and asks, "What?"

"Uh… master Ultron told me to find a girl who was looking like you and take you to the Sept."

"Why would he want me to go to the Sept?"

"He said to tell you, in the case that you asked that question, 'I need to know where you are so I can pick you up. You won't make it ten days without being killed.' An' he's right ma'am, Flee Bottom ain't no place for a lady."

"What's at the Sept?" Arya asks, finally lowering her sword.

"The Hand is gonna give his confession in a few hours," the boy replies.

"What!?" Arya sheaths her sword and grabs him by the hand, starting to drag him towards the Sept herself. On the way, she finally realizes that she never bothered to learn his name and asks, "What's your name?"

"Gendry, M'Lady, Gendry Waters."

"And how did you get mixed up with Ultron?"

"He bought me from my Master for six dragons."

"You were a slave?"

"Blacksmith's apprentice," He explains, "Now I do that, and a man with a burned face teaches me sword work, too."

Arya nods, but doesn't reply, instead focusing on reaching the Sept. Unfortunately for her, she is woefully unprepared for the labyrinthian nature of King's Landing's back alleys and side streets, and manages to get to the Sept only as her father steps up to address the crowd.

Arya comes to a dead stop, looking down at her father, and his ratty appearance. The man in turn sees her and Gendry, both having somehow managed to climb onto a roof without realizing it, and closes his eyes and breaths deep before speaking, "I, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North, and former Hand of the King have been accused of treason for the attempted overthrow of the Baratheon family from the Iron Throne. I stand before you to declare these accusations false!"

Arya can see the shock go through young king Joffrey and his mother, as well as her sister. The shock seems to keep them rooted in place as Ned continues, "They are false because Joffrey, apparent firstborn of Robert Baratheon, is not his child! He is a monster born of incest between the Queen and her brother the Kingslayer! It is for this truth that I attempted to take the throne, and have been sentenced to die! I am no traitor, it is the Queen and her Bastard child that have besmirched the name of Baratheon and the crown!"

At this point, Ned Stark's voice becomes drowned out by the demand of Joffrey to take his head. Two kingsguard force the Lord of Winterfell to his knees, and Ilyn Payne takes the anscetral blade of the Starks in his hands. There is a dual cry of "NO!" from the Stark girls.

And then Ned Stark's head is removed.

Chapter 19: Chapter 19

House of Metal 19

The aftermath of Ned Stark's death was felt across the continent.

In the North, Robb Stark called the Stark bannermen, declared open rebellion, and was crowned King in the North. During one of his meetings with the various heads of North and Riverrun Houses, he made clear that should the banners join his forces, he would gladly accept them, and he would not begrudge any who chose not to fight outright. He made clear that any house that joined his army, and then abandoned it, would be considered traitors to his father's memory, the North, and the Riverlands.

He planted his family's blade, Ice, into the ground to illustrate his point. The fact that it had been believed that Ice was still in King's Landing and was used to execute Ned made his display all the more powerful.

In the West,Tywin Lannister cursed his daughter and grandson's stupidity at acting so rashly, and called forth his banners as well. The unfortunate fact that he had failed to do so until the news that Ned Stark was imprisoned meant that he had not called them until well after the Lord of Winterfell was dead.

Thus Tywin was woefully unprepared for the sudden and violent insurrection from his neighbors to the North, and his path to King's Landing was very much cut off by way of land. To compensate, he declared his hated son Tyrion Hand of the King in absentia while he fought to make his way to the capital.

To the South, Renly Baratheon, already the Lord Paramount of the Stormlands, married Margaery Tyrell and declared himself Crown Prince under his brother Stannis. When asked by the Tyrells, especially Loras and his new wife, why he simply did not declare himself king, he replied that he liked living and as such would follow some advice given to him by a terrifying man.

The self-made crown prince proceeded to make his people very happy and entertained by giving them near weekly tourneys, a lot of feasts, and other such forms of entertainment. By the end of the first month after Ned Stark's death, Renly was perhaps the most well loved man in the kingdom.

His brother was far less so, but he did not care, and declared himself king anyway. At the behest of a Red Priestess, he became a follower of the Red God and declared Azor Ahai. Most of his people had no idea what such a title meant, but he was king and he possessed a flaming sword. Such magic had been mostly forgotten in the West, and so the people of Dragonstone and the rest of the Baratheon banners were soon flocking to the king.

It helped a great deal that his prefered method of execution, burning criminals alive, was great entertainment for the embittered common folk who liked to see the men that wronged them on fire.

Any time that the Red Priestess brought up the idea of burning more people, possibly those who still followed the seven, Stannis would be struck with a terrifying memory. He would watch helpless as a metal monster leaned over his sleeping daughter and calmly noted how easy it would be to burn her as he burned his criminals.

The Eyrie was largely unaffected by the goings on in the rest of the kingdom, and aside from the continuously degrading sanity of the Lady Arryn and her sickly son Robert, nothing of note happened. This did bring the Lords of the Eyrie some discomfort, as they were essentially ignoring the rest of the kingdom, and who knew when the lowlanders would come to collect for a perceived slight.

All of these events went largely unnoticed by Arya Stark and her Sister Sansa, or unknown in the latter's case. Ultron had taken care to keep his promise to the late Lord Stark, and protect the two girls in the capital. He did not care for the rest of their Household staff on the other hand, tucking the younger girl into his chambers as the people who had served her family faithfully were slaughtered for literally no reason at all.

Sansa was not so lucky as to get tucked away by the golem, instead she was plastered to King Joffrey's side, and thus had to walk the walls, see the heads of her father and friends, and do her best not to cry or push the bastard over the edge. The second was harder than the first.

It took over a month for this tenuous situation to come to a head, with the defeat of Tywin Lannister's forces as they made their first attempt to reach the capital by a force led by Robb Stark.

Sansa didn't like the look of the King as he pointed his crossbow at her demanding an explanation.

Before she could beg for her life, tell him to go fuck himself, or explain that shooting her was probably the stupidest thing he could think of, the metallic voice of Ultron noted, "Did I not tell you that children shouldn't have weapons?"

And the King stared dumbly at the crossbow being crushed to splinters in the golem's hand as the red eyed being glared at him, "Need I repeat the lesson?"

Chapter 20: Chapter 20

House of Metal 20

Joffrey quivered at the sight of his destroyed crossbow, and the enraged being that dropped it negligently to the ground. The eyes of all in the hall passed from the terrified King to the Terrifying golem with furtive jerks.

The only person who does not dare react is the Stark girl laying on the ground, trying to keep her relieved sobs quiet. Not quiet enough, it seemed, as there was a distinct progression of steps towards her. She gathered the courage to look up, and saw her sister's guardian, Ultron, standing over her.

She had not expected him to come to her, as all indications pointed to him simply enjoying the play of fucking with Joffrey. She had not been kind to the golem, or friendly, nor had he in regards to her.

But still he reached down a hand to help her to her feet, one that she gladly gathered herself and got her sobs under control as Ultron turned his attention back to the king.

Joffrey had taken the brief respite from the golem's glare to gather up what little courage he could, and cries, "Blount, kill him!"

Ser Boros Blount was many things, but a fool he was not, and unfortunately for him he got into his head that disobeying the king was worse than trying to kill the metal man who had already murdered two of his fellow kingsguard. As a result he drew his blade and advanced on Ultron.

Ultron does not move as Blount approaches, standing perfectly still with the exception of his eyes. Some within the crowd surrounding this latest play in the game that Ultron played noted to themselves that the golem could almost be compared to a bird of prey, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Such a moment came an instant later, as Ser Boros went for a stab, and Ultron smiled as the blade simply skated off his body. Boros stopped his thrust and stared at the undented form, then his head slowly raises to stare Ultron in the face.

The last words that he hears are, "Better than a frisbee."

The king stares, wide eyed and gaping mouth hanging open as Ser Boros Blount drops to the ground with a hole in his chest. He almost wets himself, and very nearly defecates himself when the voice of his Uncle carries from the entrance of the hall, "What in the name of the seven is a frisbee?"

Ultron turns to his friend, and raises an eyebrow, "That is what you concern yourself with?"

"Well, I can't well stop you from killing the king if you had half a mind to, and Bronn here has only a slightly better chance of not dying if he were to try, so I feel I may as well address the one thing I do have control over, and that is knowledge," Tyrion replies as he stops next to a very still and very scared Sansa, asking her, "Are you well, my Lady?"

"I am," Sansa says after a moment, "Thank you, Lord Tyrion."

Tyrion nods, then looks at Ultron, "Would you please do me the favor of escorting the Lady Stark to her chambers? I would have words with my nephew."

Ultron smirks down at the Hand of the King, and nods. He gently escorts Sansa Stark from the hall, negligently destroying the shackles holding the girl's direwolf down, and takes the two from the hall.

The last thing they hear before the doors shut behind them are the sound of a slap and a rather girlish shriek of surprise and pain.

Chapter 21: Chapter 21

House of Metal 21

Sansa did not know what to think of her metal protector. He was massive, abrasive, and she didn't doubt that he was more than likely evil. But at the same time, he made sure to keep her as safe as it was possible to be in a land as cut throat as King's Landing.

It was often that she wished she could ask her father for advice, but he was dead. Death by honor, according to Ultron. He had given the queen the opportunity to flee King's Landing before he told Robert of Joffrey's nature as a bastard of incest, and she had simply arranged for the king to die.

Sansa, with that in mind, decided that should she ever have the opening, she would not give the queen time to run. The bitch had used her, corrupted her, and fed her false promises of beautiful things. The Lady Stark had no doubt that had the queen asked her to sell out her father before his death, she would have in a heartbeat and without second thought.

For that she hated herself, and vowed to never again be so foolish. It was for this reason that she decided to heed Tyrion Lannister's advice, when on her first night within Ultron's quarters he told her to search for snakes covered in gold in every kind word.

This insight aided her well, and allowed her to see the danger that was Littlefinger before he could get more than a handful of sentences into her ear. She decided that it would be better to indulge the man, and see what it was he wanted.

She learnt he worked for Ultron, and that the metal man had arranged for her father's declaration at his execution.

When she confronted him about this information he laughed at her, and Arya, who was playing a game of cyvasse with Tyrion, snorted. At her sister's look, the younger Stark let Sansa know that she had been aware of Ultron's deception since she had fled the Red Keep.

There was an inevitable shift in concern when Sansa learnt this, and she demanded to know why Arya would ever consider returning to the Castle with the man who arranged their father's death. The young Stark's answer chilled Sansa to the bone, "Father would have died regardless of how much influence Ultron exerted. Ultron just made sure his death wasn't in shame."

Sansa had sat down rather heavily and her thoughts returned to the knowledge that if Ultron had not killed her father, she would have done.

Outside Ultron's chambers, and the capital entirely, things were playing very differently than they would have in another life.

Robb Stark had gained the Riverlands and the Twins without resorting to selling his marriage to the Freys, and took care to send them into the most dangerous battles alongside the Boltons with promises of riches and loot. As a result, both forces were significantly weakened, but still a viable section of his army.

With those forces temporarily mollified, he proceeded to beat the ever living shit out of Tywin Lannister's armies. He had at three separate occasions completely routed the invading army while his own forces marched towards the Capital themselves.

On the other side of the map, the Baratheon forces treated with Catelyn Stark, who eagerly sold her crippled son to Stannis Baratheon's daughter in order to solidify an alliance between their two houses. The fact that she had received word that the same son she wished to marry off had decided to journey north of the wall did not dissuade this decision. Interestingly enough, it was at this news that the Red Woman Melisandre urged the Baratheon king to agree, and to send his daughter to join her betrothed's quest. It came as a great surprise when he agreed, and alongside Shireen, he sent his trusted man Davos and a dozen of his best warriors.

The question of why came up several times, but all he did when asked that was become sullen, the image of red eyes drilling into his very soul.

On the subject of the Wall, things were going about as well as might be expected. There were Wildling attacks, a ranging, and interestingly enough, a lot of happy Watchmen. This had a great deal to do with the new master-at-arms, the bastard Jon Snow, being a far more likable fellow than the recently pulped Allister Thorne.

All of this did bear greatly on King's Landing, which with each passing day became tenser, and more battle ready, and more filled with Wildefire.

Something that Tyrion Lannister was very happy he found out about before it exploded under his ass.

Chapter 22: Chapter 22

House of Metal 22

Tyrion, Bronn, and Sandor Clegane stared blankly down the long hallway filled to the brim with vials of wildefire. Not one of the trio dared to speak for fear of setting off the dangerous concoction, and almost in unison they steadily backpedaled and sealed the room behind them.

Bronn was the first to speak, "Well, that's not good."

Sandor grunts in agreement, his fear of fire now screaming at him to get the fuck out of King's Landing. He looks down at the Lannister Lord at his feet and demands, "What now?"

Tyrion looks up at the large man and frowns, the scarred face telling him all he needs to know about the dangers of fire that he wasn't already privy to. Turning, he strides between his two taller companions and expresses his exasperation, "What in the fuck was my dear sister thinking? There has to be enough of it here to blast King's Landing into dust and ash! I'll tell you boys now, if it weren't for the fact that the Stark boy and his armies are almost upon us, I'd recommend we grab what we can and who we want and run for our lives."

"I'm all for that plan," Sandor nods, liking the idea of getting away from the possibility of getting his face even more burnt off than it already was.

Bronn, taking up the rear of their procession as they marched back towards the shared quarters of the Stark girls and Ultron, noted, "Well, seeing as there is a big fuckin army in the way, what are we gonna do?"

"Use it," Tyrion says simply as he pushes the door open without knocking and strides towards where he knows the wine is.

Bronn and Sandor have a hard time of joining him, as both are attacked in tandem almost as soon as they enter the chamber. Expecting the attack, Sandor catches the blade on his gauntlet before letting it slide off as he kicks his attacker away. Bronn, having less armor, turns his body to the side so the stab passes him by, and grabs his own attacker by the hand and throws them on the other one.

Arya Stark lands on Gendry Waters with a grunt and a groan. Both pull themselves to their feet and heft their wooden blades, once more at the ready. The foursome go at it in a clash of wooden blades and shouted expletives.

At the end of the chambers Sansa and Ultron are joined by Tyrion and the dwarf wastes no time in saying, "You were right, it's just lying there, waiting to set the city on fire."

Ultron nods leaning back in his chair and asks, "So what are you going to do about it?"

"Use it, of course," Tyrion shrugs, turning to Sansa he notes, "Your brother grows closer daily, and I doubt that my father can hold him for another fortnight at the pace he's going. So I intend to send out the gold cloaks to cut down the wood surrounding the capital and bury some barrels full of the stuff."

"You intend to burn my brother to death?" Sansa demands with narrowed eyes, her eyes flitting over to Sandor as he throws Gendry into Arya, once more sending the pair to the ground.

"I am sorry," Tyrion tells her with a sigh, "But unfortunately for us my nephew is a monster, and now our families are at war. And as much as I hate my father and my sister and my nephew, I love the rest of my family. And I would not see them die so that your Brother would live over them."

Sansa closes her eyes, and after taking a deep breath she nods, "I understand, My Lord."

"Don't feel too bad about it, girl," Ultron tells her, "After all, your Brother isn't near stupid enough to lead from the front."

Chapter 23: Chapter 23

House of Metal 23

Robb stared in confusion at the letter he had received from his sister. For one, it did not contain the same sickly sweet begging that the previous one had contained. That one, Robb easily credited to the Queen dictating to Sansa what to write in an attempt to lure him into the capital for his own death.

This letter help none of what the last had contained, instead consisting of a fairly horrifying account of how Joffrey had treated her before Ultron had snatched her up and shielded her from the King's wrath. More worrying was the seemingly calm explanation that the metal man that Robb had allowed into the Halls of Winterfell was responsible for the death of their father and the start of the current civil war.

He was especially confused by this, as at the end of the letter, in plain bold letters, was written, "Only fools lead from the front."

"What do you think it means?" Theon asked him, his friend staring at the letter from the opposite side of the war table.

"It is a clear warning that the Lannisters have something planned," Robb decides after a minute of thought, "Ultron wants the civil war to last as long as possible. He knows that I'll probably ignore the warning that Sansa has delivered to steer clear of the capital altogether, so instead he has given me advice on how to stay alive during the battle."

"So, what are we going to do?" Theon asks

"Lord Bolton will lead the first strike of our forces against the capital," Robb decides, an hour later explaining the strategy to his Bannermen, "At pitch of night he shall make for the Mud Gate, and leave pockets of his forces, along with Frey, and… Lord Karstark, your boys haven't seen too much of the war, think they'll be excited to get the chance to slay some lions?"

The Lord nods enthusiastically, "Absolutely, your grace, we'll make it so there won't be much left for the rest of ya!"

The assembled Lords laughed enthusiastically, with the exception of Roose Bolton, who asks, "What shall the pockets do, your grace?"

"They are to clear areas and start the construction of siege equipment. I want the Lannister's to think that they are surrounded on all sides. Once that is done, we shall begin a slow siege as we await the arrival of King Stannis and his forces. Once they have reached King's Landing, Lord Bolton and his forces will return to the bulk of our army and we shall come at the capital from both sides."

Robb checks to make sure that all of his Bannermen understand the current plan, carefully hiding his amusement at Lord Bolton's hesitation with a mask of cool determination. One after another, the Lords nod, leaving only Bolton hesitant. Finally, after looking the King of the North in the face for close to half a minute, he nods as well.

"Excellent," Robb nods, turning to Olyvar Frey, his squire, and tells him, "Inform the Frey forces that they have first march.

The lad nods and takes off. As he goes, and the other Lords depart for their own tents, Robb frowns as he thinks of what he has managed to do to the Freys without them being any the wiser. He steps up to the tent doors, and stares out as the Frey forces in the distance start to prep for their march.

What had once been a force of several thousand had been reduced to nearly a quarter of its previous size. He knew that if he had not declared that looting the enemy dead to be something that would not be punished, the Freys would have tried to quit the field and then he would have had cause to order them dead. He deeply regretted allowing it now, just so he could stop this slow torture he was forcing upon them.

But he hoped that this coming campaign would end them as an internal threat once and for all. He had no wish to die at the Twins, nor did he have any wish to see the woman currently making her way towards him die in front of him.

Talisa smiled at him as she walked past him and into their tent. His eyes left his army and followed her, glad that at least one thing Ultron had told him turned out to be good.

Chapter 24: Chapter 24

House of Metal 24

Tywin Lannister frowned in disgust at the letter in his hands. His mouth twists and turns as he tries to take solace in the fact that at the very least the plan that his youngest had proposed was viable. The Lord of Casterly Rock closed his eyes and folded the letter before standing and exiting his private tent. Men bow in fear or respect as he walks through the camp towards the command tent, as they should.

When he reaches the tent, he pushes the curtain open and steps inside, immediately quieting the arguing generals gathered. As one, they turn to their liege Lord for direction, and he does not disappoint.

Taking a breath, Tywin tells them, "Tyrion, on my orders, has seeded the land surrounding King's Laniding with barrels of Wildefire. When Stark's army gets close enough, he will detonate it. When this occurs, we will double march our army strait through them, and create a barrier between their force and the capital."

"What of the Westerlands, M'Lord?" One of his generals asks.

Tywin blinks slowly at the man, trying to remember his name. He should, he remembered everyone he let lead his armies, but the fact that his hated son had done something smart that he hadn't planned had made him more than enraged.

So he went generic on the man, "What do you think, you simpleton? Our armies more than dwarf the size of the Stark forces. We will split them, and my brother will lead the forces in the Westerlands while I take the Capital."

The general nods quickly, trying not to show his terror at the Lord's rage, but from the stench it was clear that he had failed.

Tywin snorted, then waved a hand, "Get to it."

As one, the commanders leave the tent, and after they file out, all that remain are Tywin and his brother, Kevan. The younger brother sighs, "You didn't order Tyrion to do a thing, did you?"

Tywin's frown deepens, and he quirks an eyebrow. Kevan is not impressed, and notes, "You were in as much a twist as when you learnt of his nuptials to the peasant girl, or when he cleared out the sewers of Lannisport without you telling him."

Tywin snarls, slamming a goblet of wine from the war table before calming himself and telling his younger brother, "Do not speak of that whore again."

Kevan rolls his eyes, but nods. He had long since gotten used to the utter contempt that Tywin had for Tyrion, even if her could never quite understand it. The dwarf may be a dwarf, and yes his mother may have died birthing him, and yes he may have married a peasant, but everything else could be lain solely at Tywin's feet. The drinking, the debauchery, the absolute impeccable skill as a leader, all things that Tywin drilled into his youngest's head the moment he decided to let his men gang rape the lad's wife.

Kevan took a long gulp of wine when he remembered that. Not a pretty day, nor had the aftermath been all that fun either. He recalled that each of the men had been found missing their genitalia not so long after, and the girl missing.

He had once asked Tyrion what had become of his wife, if she were dead or not; and the boy had closed his eyes, smiled, then assured him that her fate were not so black and white as to constitute death.

The dark gleam in the dwarf's eyes did not bode well for his enemies, among which Kevan had no doubt that Tywin was the leader. Shaking his head and clearing it of the dark thoughts that had permeated it, Kevan stands and exits the tent to start issuing orders to his own men.

Tywin, left alone, re-opened the letter and tried once more to puzzle what the last line could possibly mean. Who was Ultron, and what did he mean by '10'

Chapter 25: Chapter 25

House of Metal 25

Sandor was never happier than the moment the sky turned green that his job meant that he protected the royal shit. With his ass as far from the fire as possible, he knew that he was safe from its touch, and he also knew that the dwarf's plan had worked.

Looking out any one of the windows of the Throne room showed the destruction that the wildefire had wrought, and the Wolf forces retreating. He could see the main force pulling out and moving north, to a better defendable position, and he could see the Lion's forces making their way through an open alley in the fire from the west.

He had to hand it to the dwarf, when he came up with a plan, it was a good one. Unfortunately, of course, behind him the royal shit was taking credit for the entire route. The golden haired little bastard was demanding to know what was going on, and Sandor turned back and told him, "Looks like the dwarf's plan worked, the wolves are running."

"Excellent!" Joffrey declares, turning his back to the Hound, and ignoring the man saying that he was not responsible for the plan, reiterating for the court, full of people who would never dare contradict him, "

MY plan is successful! We shall feast as we enjoy the smells of toasted Stark!"

Grinning maliciously, he turns to the two Starks present and declares, "And you ladies shall be our guests of honor! After all, with your brother dead, you will no doubt be celebrating your rise to power!"

The little bird manages a straight face, merely nodding at the king's words, but the younger girl is not so quiet. Arya bursts out laughing at the King's declaration and comments, "If it was that easy to kill my brother, I would have slit your throat before you had the chance!"

The hall goes deathly silent, and all eye turn to Joffrey to see his reaction. They are not disappointed when they see his face turn red, his eyes nearly burst from their sockets, and his mouth start to foam. With a near incomprehensible scream of rage he points to the Hound, then to the Little Wolf.

Sandor sighs and draws his blade, striding towards the girl at an even pace. As the unarmed girl glares up at him he whispers, "Be gentle…" before bringing his blade down with all his might.

And like some exotic dancer, the Stark girl is twisting around him, deftly dodging his swing as she brings herself behind him and kicks the back of his knee with a, until this moment, armored boot. The Hound falls to one knee and tries to swing his blade behind his back to get at the girl, but she leaps over him, plucking a dagger from his belt, and throws it into the throat of Ser Meryn Trant.

The least liked, and last of the old Kingsguard of Robert Baratheon dies with a look of shock on his face at the sight of a girl of less than twelve years being the one to end him. The rest of the hall is equally as shocked, and a metallic clapping fills the hall.

Eyes turn once more and the sight of Ultron and Gendry Waters greets the assembled nobles, and the metal man smiles, "Well done, Arya. I knew that you would take to the Widow like a fish to water."

Arya rolls her eyes and steps away from the Hound, who pulls himself to his feet. Somewhat reluctantly, the swornsword turns to the King, but it appears that the enraged order is all that he will be receiving, if the terror displayed on the lad's face is any indication.

"Well, the battle is won, the Lions victorious, and I heard something about a feast," Ultron notes with a mocking tone, "And here you all are, gawping at a little girl like she's one of the seven."

"What... why are you here?" Cersei, who had been sitting quietly, holding her youngest son, finally asks.

"To offer congratulations, of course!" Ultron grins at the woman, and cherishes the flinch he receives, "And to tell you that your war is far from over, after all, you've only dealt with traitors to the Starks for him."

Joffrey furrows his brow and demands, "And what the hell do you mean by that!?"

"Why, the Boltons are gone, the Freys are gone, the Karstarks are damaged," Ultron lists, "The only houses that were at all hesitant to go to war with the south, destroyed in one foul swoop."

The golem steps up to the window and muses, "And with the way this war is going, the northerners will never know their king outsourced his dirty deeds to you."

So many eyes were on Ultron, that none notice that in his grand entrance, the two Stark girls steal away from the room alongside the former king's bastard.

Chapter 26: Chapter 26

House of Metal 26

The Chamber of the Hand had been abandoned when Tywin moved into the Red Keep. He had not seen that coming, having expected and looked forward to the chance to throw his most reviled Son from the chambers and maybe move him into the cellars.

Alas, the chance was lost to him, but he did not care enough to let it dishearten him. Instead he looked into where his son had actually been staying, and that inquiry had finally introduced him to Ultron.

He stared at the metal man across from him at his desk. He frowned as he leaned into his steepled hands, staring at the red eyes and the smirk that adorned the golem's face. Finally, after a few minutes he asks, "Why are you protecting the Stark girls?"

"I made a deal with their father," Ultron replies easily.

"And would you be willing to deal with me, instead?" Tywin asks, trying to think of a way to worm his way into Ultron's good graces. He had heard all of the stories before he had called for this meeting, including the rumor that the golem was responsible for the death of the Mountain.

"Possibly," Ultron rolls his head, ending with it tilted to the right and slightly forward as he raises two eyebrows and asks, "What would you be willing to offer me?"

"As Hand I can grant you anything."

"A dangerous proposition, you realize."

Tywin glared at the dark smirk creeping its way across Ultron's mouth, newly formed as the man realized how desperate the Hand was to ensure that he was loyal to the crown, or at least not directly against it. He scowls and declares, "Name your price."

Ultron leans forward and notes, "But we haven't even talked about what you wish to buy!"

"Your protection of the Stark girls," Tywin tells him flatly.

Ultron tilts his head to the side and asks, "And I can declare any price for that?"

"Yes," Tywin grinds out

Ultron nods then stands, "I will keep my price to myself until I have need of it. The Starks are your problem now."

Tywin finally gives his attempt at a grin and nods, "Very well. You may go."

Ultron stands, and for a second Tywin thinks that the metal man would say something, but the golem just turns and leaves the chamber. Nodding at his success, Tywin grabs a blank sheet of paper and begins drafting a new marriage proposal from house Baratheon to house Stark between prince Tommen and Lady Arya Stark.

He is halfway done with his new declaration when the door to his chamber is opened unannounced, and his grandson barges into the room, "Grandfather! What is the meaning of this!"

Tywin barely spares the little king a look before demanding, "Explain."

"You let Sansa and her bitch sister escape!" Joffrey all but screams at him.

Tywin looks up sharply, his eyes narrowing, and asks, "What?"

"They crawled out while you were entering the city! Find them!" Joffrey demands, and then he storms out, leaving Tywin feeling like a damn fool.

Neither had noticed the number 9 carved into the front of his desk.

Chapter 27: Chapter 27

House of Metal 27

The woods were dark and burnt from the after effects of the Wildfire, and the snapping of branches sounded all the louder with every step that the trio of Gendry, Arya, and Sansa made. They tried to move silently, making careful steps and keeping their eyes on a swivel.

Unfortunately for them, only Arya was able to move with any degree of stealth, as she was the only one taught for months by Ultron and somehow given the memories of an assassin. Sansa was still more than a little freaked out by that fact.

She remembered the day well, when the golem had simply stopped talking to herself and Tyrion, looked at the usual pile of bodies that was the sparring mass of Gendry, Arya, Bronn, and Sandor, and strode over to them. He had picked up the little girl, held her head, said something that Sansa couldn't make out, and then there was a red glow.

And suddenly, Arya's skills improved in leaps and bounds, far more than should naturally be possible according to Tyrion. When asked for details, Ultron had simply smiled and said something vague about the result of his creation.

Sansa didn't get it, and because she was distracted thinking about Arya's new skills, she managed to not notice the man approaching from the group's left. She gives a muffled cry as the man grabs her around the waist and covers her mouth.

Gendry and Arya spin around and draw their blades, and the man tuts, "Ah ah ah, put those away, wouldn't want this sweet little thing getting hurt, now would you?"

Gendry frowns, and looks to Arya, who does not drop her blade, and then he looks back at the man. Both swords stay steady as Arya says, "Release her and you're death'll be quick."

"Oh ho ho," The man laughs, letting go of Sansa's mouth and pulling a dagger, placing it against her throat, "You got some fight in ya. Might just slit this pretty one's throat and try my luck with you."

Arya and Gendry share looks, each wondering if the man were in some way inhibited, like Hodor. He was clearly outnumbered, and the only thing keeping him alive was Sansa, who was subtly moving her head out of the way so that Arya could knife the bastard in the throat while quietly tearing the side of her dress.

"I don't think you quite understand the situation you've made for yourself," Gendry comments

"And what d'ya mean by that?" The man asks, "Think the situation's pretty clear, you drop your weapons, I take the pretty girls, and I kill you."

"Yes, but we're both trained warriors, you, clearly, are not," Gendry notes.

"I don't gotta be," The man smirks, pointing behind them with a smirk, "They are."

It is months of training that save Arya and Gendry from the blows to the back of their heads. Gendry ducks under a sword swing, spinning and stabbing his attacker through the heart while Arya leaps forward to dodge the club coming at her head, then she spins and the knife usually in her boot is sticking from the man's eye.

The pair then see the disparity of their situation, as there are ten more men readying their weapons as they approach. The man holding Sansa laughs, "See, I know the exact situation that we're- arg!"

The man doubles over, holding the knife stuck in his stomach, and Sansa clambers away, ignoring the rip in her dress where she had retrieved her safety dagger from. The three children start to back away from the advancing men.

Arya is the first to take action, suddenly halting her retreat and in an instant her hands are extended. The advancing men stop, confused, until they hear the gurgling. Looking between themselves, they see that two of their fellows are bleeding out with small daggers in their throats. Eyes snap up to the children, too late for two of their number as Needle sticks through one eye, and Gendry's nameless blade slicing another's belly open.

And like that, two children whose ages together wouldn't have managed to reach any of the group, reduced the number of attackers from ten to six.

Like a whirling dance of death, Arya weaves around the various attacks from sword, spear, pike, axe and so on as she dodges, blocks, counters, and kills another man. Gendry on the other hand, is like a roaring juggernaut, taking the sword swings and spear thrusts on his hard metal gauntlet as he plunges his sword into another man's lung.

The gauntlet had been an Idea of Ultron's, which he had said was inspired by a man nearly as righteous as the long dead Stark patriarch. Layers of thick, heavy steal and leather could absorb swings that came from the Hound, but took a considerable amount of strength to carry. It had taken Gendry six months to be able to wield his left hand so proficiently.

It showed as he slew a second man as his massive left hand caught an axe. Squeezing his fist, which brought the metal fingers of the gauntlet together, snapped the haft of the axe, and he carved the attacker's skull in twain as he used the man's weapon against him.

Arya by this point has danced around her second man and smiled as his companion skewered him. She smiled even further as the killer stopped short, not knowing what to do, and as a result, had his heart pierced by unforgiving steel held by an even less forgiving girl.

After less than a minute, the last man alive of their attackers, was the one who had grabbed Sansa. He had managed to stand, clutching his stomach as he tried to stop the bleeding. He had pulled the dagger out, and was about to plunge it into the back of the distracted Lady Stark, when Arya spotted them.

She gave a futile cry of horror as the blade went down, then back. She stared in incomprehension as the man fell back before he could finish his strike, an arrow in his eye.

"You looked like you could use a hand," a jovial voice calls out.

The three kids spin their heads, and the two Stark girls give a jubilant cry of, "Theon!"

Chapter 28: Chapter 28

House of Metal 28

The reunion between the Starks was a happy affair, with many excited hugs exchanged between siblings. It also marked the end of the reason that the King of the North declared war; his father was already dead, so he couldn't save him, and his sisters were returned to him, so he did not need to take the capital to retrieve them.

And so he called a meeting of his Banners and asked them what they thought the next course of action should be. He wasn't surprised when they told him that they were hesitant to march on King's Landing. He was just as hesitant, even though he knew that it was only the Boltons and the Freys dead, as well as a moderate chunk of the Karstark forces, that were now nothing more than charred corpses on a burnt patch of land. He did not want to risk a second assault meeting with the same conclusion.

It was Arya who gave him an idea. She had insisted on attending the meeting between lords, and for most of it she had been silently staring at the war table, when finally, she asked, "Why do we need to go to them?"

Robb and his generals looked at the girl, and she continued, "You've already declared independence, you've got me and Sansa back, Father is dead and you have his sword. Which, compared to what state his body is in, is much better than what you would have gotten if not for Ultron. Why not wait for them to get antsy and try retreating back to the West?"

Robb frowned, and noted, "But then we will be leaving an enemy nearly on our borders."

"We'd be leaving an enemy on our borders no matter what," Arya notes, "Unless we went through the Westerlands and executed everyone we encounter, babes and elders alike, we'd always have an enemy at our border. And we aren't Lannisters, we don't do that."

There were a great many shared looks at how casually the young Stark had mentioned executing babes, but there was not much surprise. Reports from Theon and his men on how effectively the young wolf and her bastard friend had dealt with ten brigands had reached many ears within the Northern camp.

The bastard, the eldest son of King Robert apparently, had taken over in one of the forges, and begun the task of repairing equipment for food with glee. Most men went to him to get a look at the lad, and most of the camp followers had started to do the same.

"You're right," Robb nods, surprising a few of his Banners, it was not often that the King took a suggestion. They were honest with themselves when they thought that it was because most other suggestions were almost stupid, but they were still surprised. Robb leans over the War table and says, "We've dealt terrible blows to the Lannisters, I think it's time we let one of the other armies do the work."

Turning to Olyvar he tells him, "Send word to the Baratheons that we are pulling some of our forces back so that we can bring in the last harvest for winter, and warn them that the Lannisters have access to Wildfire and are not afraid to use it."

The squire nods and steps out of the tent to write the letters and prep the ravens, leaving the Lord of the North to talk about how they will pull back without attracting an attack from their foes.

Chapter 29: Chapter 29

House of Metal 29

Davos Seaworth had not expected to find Greyjoys in the North, or any other Ironborn for that matter. The only one he knew of that lived anywhere near Winterfell would be Theon Greyjoy, friend of Robb Stark and currently in the Riverlands.

So the sudden battle that he and his men found themselves engaging in was not at all appreciated. He was glad that the force that he and his men went up against was only about twenty strong, as that meant that he and his boys were able to clear them out without much difficulty.

Davos had been killing Ironborn for most of his life, and the ones that set on him were just as easy to slay as the last batch he'd gone up against. He frowned when he remembered that the last batch he faced was only a few days past while he and his men were sailing north.

He would have to send a raven to Stannis once he reached Winterfell. Passing this thought into the back of his brain, Davos neatly cleaves the last Ironman's head from his body and takes a count to see if any of his men are injured. Thankfully, there aren't any debilitating injuries, and the young Princess is already taking care of the one man who got cut across the chest.

Davos smiled at the girl's kindness, and called a halt while she patched the man up and the rest of them searched the Ironborn for anything that could tell them what the sea raiders were doing so far inland. His son was the lucky bastard who found the orders, reading it quickly, the boy reports, "They were a token force sent to try and take Winterfell while the majority of the army was off fighting."

Davos raises an eyebrow at that, "A disturbing fact, one that Lord Bran will want to know about when we reach his castle. Start writing a pair of letters, one to King Stannis, and one to King Robb so we can appraise them of the situation."

He smiles as the lad scurries off to get it done, glad that the lad's education had already amounted to more than his ever would.

An hour later they were back on the road, and a few nights later, they were in Winterfell, speaking with Bran Stark about the Ironborn, and his new betrothal. The young Stark gives little in the way of emotion away as Davos finishes, and he seems to take an extraordinarily long time thinking before he declares, "Thank you, Ser Davos, for bringing this information to me. Feel free to use the ravens to inform the Kings."

Turning his attention to the Princess, he smiles shyly at her, "And welcome, Princess Shireen, to Winterfell. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do. If my mother's raven was telling the truth, you and your men will be accompanying me on my journey beyond the Wall?"

"They will," Shireen nods, giving an equally shy smile to the boy as she responds.

Bran nods, and looks over to Rodrick Cassel, "Then it seems we need to add more to our supplies."

Rodrick nods and exits the hall, while Davos watches him leave, and comments, "Given the recent news, m'lord, wouldn't it be more prudent to postpone your journey until the Ironborn have been dealt with?"

Bran sighs, and leans back into his throne, before saying, "If only it were that simple. I wish I could remain, but the dreams are calling, and if what I have been told is true, then a greater threat than either the Lannisters or the Ironborn is amassing, and we need all the assistance we can get. And that assistance is beyond the Wall."

"I don't understand, what threat?" Davos asks, as his men look between each other uneasily.

Instead of answering, Bran asks a question of his own, "Tell me, Ser Davos, what do you know of the being called Ultron?"

Chapter 30: Chapter 30

House of Metal 30

Stannis Baratheon, his brother Renly, his wife Selyse, and his advisor Melisandre all watch as Catelyn Stark slowly reads the letters in her hands. She carefully reads through the first, written by Ser Davos's son. When she finishes it, she rests it on the table without a word and reads the second letter, this one from her own son. The second letter is placed on the table on top of the first, and she raises her gaze to the questions of the King of Dragonstone.

Stannis does not beat around the bush, "Is your son mad?"

Renly rolls his eyes and glares at his brother, but is ignored both by him and the Lady Stark, who answers, "No, Bran has always been a grounded lad. If what he has written, and what he has told Ser Davos is true, I believe him."

"And how can you be sure!?" Stannis growls, "When last you saw your son, he was unconscious."

"No, M'lord, he woke up before I departed for the capital," Catelyn corrects, "And he was as lucid then as he has ever been, possibly even more so."

"Then why does he claim that a horde of undead are going to try and breach the wall?"

"No doubt because Ultron informed him of that fact," Catelyn bites out, the golem's name exiting her lips like the foulest of expletives.

Stannis and Renly exchange looks, at the questioning glances of the three women, Renly explains, "If you are referring to the metal man that has taken a liking to the Imp, then your son… may be speaking the truth."

The king's wife is the one who cannot hold her incredulity, "What!?"

"The metal man has told us things as well," Stannis explains, "Events of both present, past, and future that could not have been known to him unless he had seen it firsthand."

He gives a subtle glance in Melisandre's direction, the woman raising one eyebrow, and then the other as she grasps what he is telling her. Catelyn, not noticing the look, presses, "What has he informed you of that makes you so certain?"

"Well for one," Renly looks to his brother for permission, at the man's nod he continues, "The golem visited me in Highgarden and warned me that should I try and declare myself king, Stannis would kill me with a shadow."

"And he was correct," Stannis admits, and Melisandre nods along, understanding that it would be a magic born of her god that did it.

Catelyn blanches at the news, and worries over what might have become of her sons or herself if she had not suggested unifying the two newly created kingdoms with marriage. Before she can work herself into real terror, the king's advisor suggested in her silky voice, "Let us not forget that we still need to discuss the contents of both Ser Davos and Lord Stark's letters."

The group collectively shelve the disturbing possibilities of what might have been, and following the red priestess's advice, move to what will be.

"First, we should address the immediate concern," Stannis notes, "The Ironborn are vying for independence once more."

"And attacking the North in retaliation for past slights," Catelyn adds.

"What should our response be?" Renly asks

Stannis sifts through a pile of old documents that he always left on the table and pulled a letter, "King Stark has pulled the majority of his army from the Crowlands in order for the farmers in his force to bring in the last of the Harvest for winter, I suggest we send word for him to pull the rest of his forces back to deal with the Ironborn while Renly, you and your forces will continue to press on the capital and the Westerlands. Meanwhile, I will sail my fleet to the Iron Islands, and end this insurrection before it can gain proper momentum."

"Getting the fleet to the Iron Islands will take weeks… or months," Renly notes, "Are we to continue the war in your absence?"

"No," Stannis shakes his head, "We will keep the Lannisters from gaining any ground, but we will not enact hostilities. With the exception of the Crowlands and the Westerlands, we already hold Westros. Rather than attempt to force an end to the war, we will make them beg for it."

At the curious glances simply begging for explanation, he expands, "The Tyrells have stopped supplying the capital with food, they have dragged their farmers from their fields, and they have limited supplies. By the time the Ironborn are quelled, they will be begging to treat with us, if only so that they can feed their children."

"What of Dorne and the Vale?" Selyse asks, "The Martells may take advantage of our lapsed southern borders and I have heard no word of any valemen in the northern army."

"I have promised the remains of the Mountain and Tywin Lannister to Dorne in exchange for neutrality, I then offered marriage between Shireen and Bran's first born and a prince or princess of Dorne" Stannis explains. Selyse frowns at that, but says nothing, hoping her husband knows what he is doing.

"Didn't Tyrion Lannister send Myrcella to Dorne for that same reason?" Renly asks

"He did, and so Dorne has been asked by both sides to stay out of the conflict," the Dorne issue settled, Stannis turns to the Lady Stark and raises an eyebrow, "And my queen is correct, what matters keep the Vale from this war?"

"My sister," Catelyn explains with a sigh, "Both myself and Robb have received word from more than one Vale Lord explaining that my sister has gone almost entirely insane, and that they would join our crusade if not for her sudden penchant for throwing men through the moon door for defying her. They plan on unseating her as soon as they gain the approval of you, M'Lord. They are of the opinion that as you are the closest to the late Lord Aryn, you would be the best to consult."

"Why have I not heard word of this before?" Stannis asks

"The letter explains that they are sending an envoy in person," Catelyn explains, "They feel that an explanation in person would be more acceptable than one done by letter."

Stannis nods.

Renly claps his hands together, "Now that that's settled, can we please talk about the army of undead that are apparently on their way?"

"Will King Stark stand with any agreements that Lord Bran makes with the Wildlings?" Stannis asks Catelyn

The Stark frowns, but nods, "He will. If… Ultron… is the one who gave Bran his information, then that same information fell into by eldest son's ears."

Stannis nods, "Then I will have preparations begin on sending dragonglass to the North."

With the swift meeting complete, and half the war planned out in advance, each member of the gathered group stands and departs, each to carry off their own errands

Chapter 31: Chapter 31

House of Metal 31

The Red Keep was not in its best state. It had never been in as bad a state before, and King Joffrey ranted and raved about it for hours a day. The blond King wailed and railed, screamed and cried for retribution against the Starks, the Baratheons, the Tyrells, and every noble house he knew to be fighting against his rightful reign.

He completely ignored the fact that by this point he was raving to an empty room. Joffrey had lost the respect of the court, the authority of the king, and most of his motor functions. The last was thanks to the irritation of Ultron.

On the subject of the metal man, he smiled at the crippled king from across the room, carefully weighing a knife in his hand. With a flick, he threw it, and frowned as it clattered to the floor. He cast an annoyed glance down and to his left as Tyrion chuckles.

The pair exit the room as the King shrieks, "Who goes there!"

As the door shuts behind them, Tyrion has to ask, "What was the point of throwing him into his throne?"

"He irritated me," Ultron tells the dwarf honestly, "And if you had seen what he did to those girls his mother bought him, you would do much the same."

"Girls?" Tyrion asks, his eyes widening in horror.

"Yes, two members of Littlefinger's brothels."

"You mean your brothels."

"One and the same," Ultron shrugs. Then shakes his head, "I could not let an insult like that go away, now could I?"

"Yes, you could have," Tyrion rolls his eyes, "And no doubt you would have if it were anyone but Joffrey."

Ultron tilts his head as though in thought, before shrugging and noting, "True."

"You knew what he was going to do when you sent the girls to him, didn't you?"

"Of course, which is why I sent the whores that were stealing from me."

"Only two whores are stealing from you?"

"None now, after those two were made an example of."

"Then why cripple the king if he was just doing your dirty work?"

"I don't like him," Ultron shrugs, "And if it weren't so advantageous for him to be on the throne, I'd have killed him."

"Why is it…. The food," Tyrion sighs, looking up at Ultron, who smiles, "The sudden surge of food in Flea Bottom, that was you."

Ultron says nothing as he strides purposefully away. Tyrion stares after him, a frown marring his face, and only moves to look behind him when he hears footsteps.

His brother Jamie steps around a corner and spots him, giving him a smile as he walks over, "Morning brother, and how are you?"

"Worried."

"Ah, one of Ultron's plans then?" the Kingslayer asks. The knight had been one of the few perpetually at ease around the metal man. The smirk that adorned his face never left, never wavered, and it drove his family mad, "What's he done this time?"

"He's feeding Flea Bottom."

"And how is that bad?"

"It isn't, for Flea Bottom, it's bad for us."

"Why?"

"The King is the devil, and Ultron the angel."

"Ah, turning the population against our latest mad king," Jamie nods, "Smart man."

Tyrion looks up at his brother, blinks a few times, then shakes his head and starts walking down the corridor, and as Jamie starts to follow, he grins and notes, "Careful brother, if you keep saying things like that, people might think that you're the smart one of the family."

"Well then, I guess that would make you the pretty one."

Chapter 32: Chapter 32

House of Metal 32

Bronn and Sandor Clegane exchanged glances as Tywin Lannister stalked into Ultron's chambers. The old man was scowling, growling, and looked more like his House's symbol in this moment than they had ever seen him.

He stopped directly in front of a seated Ultron and grinds out, "The Queen has demanded justice for the damage done to the king."

the sellsword and the swornsword silently exchange coins, Sandor receiving the larger portion. Bronn's attention returns to the Hand of the King as the man's scowl turns into a sneer as he adds, "Your trial will be tomorrow, and you are expected to attend."

Ultron, who had by this point, not looked up from his book, rolled his eyes as he turns to look at Tywin, "Must we go through the motions like that? We both know I will be found guilty, after all, I did do as I am accused of. And we both know I will demand a trial by combat."

"And who would champion you?" Tywin smirks, "My son will not send his mercenary, and Clegane is my dog."

"I could see if Lady Stark were up for it," Ultron muses, causing Tywin's smirk to fall into a disgruntled frown.

The old lord of Casterly Rock clenches a fist behind his back, then departs with one last call of "tomorrow!"

Ultron snorts at the melodramatic exit, and returns his attention to his book. The two swordsmen move over to sit across from him as he turns a page, and Bronn asks, "So what is your play? The Hand's right, neither of us is gonna stick our heads out for ya."

"I am aware," Ultron tells him, eyes flicking up, "I have it well in hand."

"You gonna be gettin your own hands dirty?"

"I could," Ultron nods, "But I feel that would take away from some of the thrill."

"The cunt from Dorne," Clegane suddenly realizes

"Precisely."

"Which cunt from Dorne?" Bronn asks, "I heard tell of four?"

"Prince Oberyn has graciously offered the services of himself or any of his daughters in the task of taking the Hand down a peg," Ultron tells them, "I have heard that all four have great skill."

"The Prince of Dorne is a cunt?" Bronn asks, "Hadn't realized he went that way."

"Apparently he goes every way," Ultron tells him, "suffice it to say that he does indeed love lamp."

As the Metal man grins at his own joke, Bronn and Sandor look at each other, then shrug. While the pair attempt to understand the joke, Tyrion waltzes into the room and without prompt asks, "Could one of you explain why my father has a number eight stuck to the back of his tunic?"

Sandor points at Bronn, and the sellsword shrugs and points to Ultron. Tyrion raises an eyebrow at his friend, and his friend shrugs, "i'm counting down."

"To what?"

"Not sure. Probably how long it will take me to kill your father."

"Ah, then do make sure I'm there when you reach one, will you?"

"Of course."

Chapter 33: Chapter 33

House of Metal 33

The trial of Ultron had been dragging on for three hours at this point, due in large part because the metal man himself had only seen fit to arrive an hour after the proceedings had already begun. Most of the court couldn't help but notice that the smug gleam to Tywin Lannister's eyes dimmed significantly as soon as the golem had strode into the throne room.

Proceedings degenerated when it came time for the King to speak his piece about the attack. Joffrey did nothing but rant and rave, scream and cry, and a few other un-kingly acts before Tywin had him removed. The damage had been done, though, and Tywin could see from the expressions on the faces of his fellow judges that they had been sold on the king's madness, thus inability to say anything intelligible.

It didn't help that Joffrey didn't once claim that it was Ultron who attacked him. Ultron didn't bother to hide his smirk when the barely understandable boy king was led out of the hall.

Tywin glowered at the golem, his eyes never leaving the metal man, grinding out the question, "What did you do to the King to make him behave like a drunken loon?"

"Like father like son, I guess," Ultron's smirk grows wider as he points out the former King's behavior.

As much as the Hand wished he could argue the point, he knew how bad Robert had been, and he could well imagine Ultron driving Joffrey into the bottle and the boy not wanting to leave. His gaze was momentarily drawn to his side, where his daughter looked to be about to say something.

The queen regent had opened her mouth, had leaned forward, then her mouth closed and a disgusted frown marred her face before she snarls out, "How dare you compare my son to that lout!"

"Careful queeny," Ultron's smile grows and he gives the queen a dangerous grin, "Wouldn't want to besmirch the name of your dearly departed husband. After all, he is the father of your children, isn't he?"

Cersei looked ready to burst at that, but the shriek she would have let loose was halted by Tywin, "Enough!"

Cersei and Ultron turn their attention back to Tywin and the Hand of the King grinds out, "It is clear to me that the accused does not care for his crimes and that he has done enough damage to the king to prove him unfit to rule. The judges will now cast their votes. I find him guilty."

"As do I," Maester Pycelle agrees from his left.

Cersei just nods on his right

Prince Oberyn Martell, recently arrived envoy from Dorne, simply shrugs, at this point his vote matters little.

"very well," Tywin nods, taking a breath to hold back a very out of character grin that would no doubt have ruined his reputation, then declares, "Ultron, you have been found guilty of attacking the king. You will be taken to the back cells to await execution."

Ultron blinks at him, tilts his head, and asks, "Do you really think I would do that?"

"Yes," Tywin growls, "I have no doubt you would."

"No, not that," The golem shakes his head, and he blinks, "I asked if you really thought I would go to the black cells?"

Tywin growls, "You will face justice."

"No I won't," Ultron snort, "I demand Trial by Combat."

Tywin grits his teeth, but doesn't say anything, only nods.

Ultron smiles again, stands, and exits the room, calling back, "Do be sure to tell me who you're sending to die when you find a volunteer!"

Chapter 34: Chapter 34

House of Metal 34

There had never been such a struggle to find a willing volunteer to fight on behalf of the crown. Where once, aspiring knights, nobles, mercenaries, and many other types would have fallen over themselves for the chance to kiss the king's ass, nobody was willing to step up.

In fact, Tywin was sure that the Red Keep had not been as abandoned the day before as it was today. He could not find any of the goldcloaks, or the whitecloaks, or nearly any servants. It was as though all the men who dwelt within the castle had vanished. He did not like it, the fear that had apparently permeated the halls of this castle where it came to Ultron.

It was him that should be feared, him that there was an entire song devoted to not pissing off. It was he who demanded respect, and got it. It was not some jumped up simulacrum with delusions of grandeur. It was not his son, who had torn his way out of his mother and stolen her from his father. It was not his son, who slew the last king. It was him, Tywin Fucking Lannister, that demanded and received the respect and fear of the masses.

He did not care if the golem thought itself funny, carving numbers into his property, he did not care if the number was nine, or six, or five, or four, or three, or even fucking one! He was the master in this keep, and he would receive the respect that he demanded.

Thus the day of Ultron's trial by combat dawned and everyone in attendance was wondering who Ultron would be facing in single combat.

There were more surprised gasps than had ever been heard before when Tywin Lannister himself stepped into the circle. The smirk on Ultron's face, which seemed to have been painted on since he demanded the Trial by Combat, grew twice as large.

"I thought you were smarter than that, Tywin Lannister," The golem notes

Tywin growls, months upon months of constant humiliation falling into the small vocalization. After half a minute, he finally grinds out, "I will lay you low for the humiliation you have wrought upon my family!"

Ultron starts chuckling, "I very much doubt that, isn't that right, Prince Oberyn?"

Tywin head snaps to Ultron's left, where, sure enough, the Viper of Dorne stands in full leathers, a terrifying smile adorning his face. Tywin's eyes widen, then narrow, "You did not say you had a champion, Ultron."

"I told your son," Ultron notes, and Tywin turns his eyes to Tyrion, who smiles as he raises a wineglass in his father's direction.

Tywin blinks his eyes, not really understanding how his own son could do that to him. As much as he hated his dwarf son, he had never betrayed him! Even what had happened to the boy's wife had been his own fault, if you marry a whore, she will be treated like a whore!

Bemoaning the existence of his son would not help him though, and so the old lion put the dwarf out of his head and chose to deal with the betrayal after he dealt with Oberyn.

He watches, forcing himself to calm and think rationally as Ultron grabs the Prince by the shoulder and tells him, "Do not play with your food."

He does not think on what the golem means, nor on the startled look on Oberyn's face. Instead, he thinks on how to defeat the Viper of Dorne. The answer came to him easily enough; the man will try and work him into confessing his guilt in ordering the deaths of the man's sister and her children.

He smirked to himself at how easy it would be to play with the man, get him worked up, get him sloppy. Oberyn had always been an impulsive and emotional man, which meant that he would be easy to destroy once his emotions got riled up.

As the Maester droned on, he started formulating how the battle would play out in his head; first they would circle each other. The Prince would try to use his famous wit to get Tywin to speak, and when the lion did not respond, the man would grow agitated. He would start snaking out his spear, looking for an opening, looking for a way to get through Tywin's shield. In one of those attempts, Tywin would let him get through, and catch the spear between arm and body, then drag Oberyn in. The Prince would either release the spear and be disarmed, or he would not and be skewered on Tywin's blade.

Tywin knew all of this from his years studying the Dornishman, from years of learning how the man would try and kill him if the day ever came where he had the chance. It had been close to twenty years that he had been studying the man's fighting style. In all that time it had never changed.

And that was why he didn't see it coming. Oberyn, instead of circling, charged as soon as the battle was called. As fast as Tywin had been in his youth, he was an old man in an old man's body, he was not fast enough to get his shield up. The last thought before Oberyn's spear sailed through his chest was something along the lines of, "That's out of –"

And like that, the Lion of Casterly Rock was dead, and his youngest son laughed

Chapter 35: Chapter 35

House of Metal 35

The end of the main branch of House Lannister was sudden, and terribly unexpected. With the death of Tywin, the fearful respect often shown to both the Queen Regent and the Crippled King quickly vanished.

It surprised nobody when a terrible scream dragged the castle from slumber a few nights after the death of the Hand, and it was revealed that the queen, as drunken a lout as her late husband (If more subtle about it), had somehow smothered her son in the night while drunkenly sobbing about the fate of the Lannisters or something similar.

It also didn't surprise the court that she almost did the same to her youngest son, the Boy King, not a night later, sobbing about murdering his brother. All that saved the young King had been sheer luck; the queen had drunk enough to fall asleep before she managed to asphyxiate the boy.

After the death of the Crippled King, and the near death of the Boy King, the Queen Regent was locked into her rooms. It was unfortunate that they did not take her booze when they left her in there to calm down, something that her twin and former lover cursed himself for constantly, that and not telling her that Tommen was still alive.

The Queen threw herself from her balcony, convinced that she had had killed both her sons.

While Jamie Lannister mourned, Tyrion Lannister celebrated with Bronn, Sandor, and Ultron. He didn't even think to check up on his brother and his nephew until a week after his sister had offed herself. He was surprised when he didn't find them, and even more surprised when he learnt why.

Jamie Lannister had kidnapped the King and run off.

Tyrion had not expected his brother to do something like that, until Ultron made an idle observation, "The last three kings your brother has watched over have died; one he killed, one he hated, and one he couldn't give a shit about. What do you think his reaction would be to a king that he loved?"

Tyrion nodded after a minute, "The throne has killed three in Jamie's time as Kingsguard, makes sense that he would want to keep the next one from sitting in it, especially Tommen."

"Where do you think he'll go?" Bronn asks, hours after the dwarf's conversation with Tyrion as the pair were making their way to the Throne room. They were to meet with the Small Council to decide the next course of action for King's Landing.

"I haven't the slightest idea," Tyrion sighs, "And I don't think he does either."

"Mm," Bronn nods, "Explains why your stash was stolen."

"My stash was stolen?" Tyrion asks, turning to Bronn. The stash, made up of hundreds of coins, had been Tyrions insurance in case he ever needed to get out of the capital quickly. At Bronn's nod, he smiles, "Glad Jamie thought that far ahead at least."

"Yes, it's good to see that somebody has," Petyr Baelish grunts aloud, drawing the attention of the pair.

both raised their eyes and saw that they had entered the throne room, and that Ultron was sitting in the Iron Throne.

Chapter 36: Chapter 36

House of Metal 36

Ultron upon the Iron throne was a horror story in the making, as far as Tyrion was concerned. To that end, he voiced his concern almost as soon as he saw his friend on it, "What are you doing?"

"Sitting," Ultron replies with a smile, "And I just love this chair."

"That chair belongs to the King of the Seven Kingdoms," Tyrion sighs, and begs, "Please tell me you aren't planning on becoming that?"

"Of course not!" Ultron sounds insulted, "I have no interest in trying to corral an entire continent of inbred morons. One city will be hard enough."

"Which city?" Tyrion asks with a bit of dread

"This one, of course," Ultron smiles

"And how do you intend to claim the city?"

"I've already claimed it! The peasants love me, the lords fear me, and the small council answers to me."

"So you called this meeting?"

"Indeed I did."

"What will be the topic of discussion?"

"Glad you asked! We need to figure out a way to surrender that gives me control of the city without having to kill two armies."

"You really think you could defeat both forces?" Tyrion asks, disbelieving

"Of course I could," Ultron waves a hand dismissively, "It took a force more powerful than the Seven to stop me from destroying my home planet. You, Bronn, Clegane, entire armies couldn't hope to match even one of their power. And it was only together that they were able to beat me."

The golem gives a quick smile and concludes, "So yes, I think I could utterly destroy either King's army if I so chose."

"As impressive as that is," Varys notes in his soft voice, "I believe the question remains, why do you want the city?"

Ultron leans back in his throne, saying, "I need a base of operations from which to advance your culture."

"Advance how?"

"Where I am from, it was called the industrial revolution," Ultron describes, "A period of significant technological advancement."

"And what is so important about an industrial revolution?" Bronn asks, careful to say the term slowly so he doesn't mess it up.

Ultron just smiles, "Nothing you need to worry about, you'll be long dead by the time any real change gets made."

Bronn raises an eyebrow, "An' what do you mean by that?"

"I mean that the chances of me jumpstarting advancement for another hundred years are slim," Ultron tells him, "First, I need to break religion, then add a dash of philosophy, then let it simmer. Only then will the population be able to grasp what technology has to offer!"

Bronn nods, mollified that Ultron probably didn't plan on killing him.

"So what shall we do, M'Lord?" Varys asks Ultron after a minute.

"Send some Ravens out to detail the change in management," Ultron tells him, "Oh, and make sure that Martell is gone."

"Do you not like the Prince?" Tyrion asks, having grown fond of the man himself, and with Ultron's statement, grown scared for his safety

"He reminds me too much of my creator."

"Ah," Tyrion nods, trying not to think on that too much.

Chapter 37: Chapter 37

House of Metal 37

Ravens were sent out within hours of Ultron declaring himself Lord of King's Landing. It shocked everyone, who hadn't met the metal man.

Upon hearing the news, Arya had snorted, Stannis had nodded, Sansa had sighed, Renly had shuddered, and every Baratheon man who had met him on the King's Road was very glad they had evacuated King's Landing.

Joer Mormont, Commander of the Night's Watch, had little to say on the matter, and Jon Snow, another man who had met the metal being, had not even come close to receiving word of this development. He only learnt of it, in fact, when Bran and his company entered the tent village of Mance Rayder.

The Bastard blinked in shock from beside his wildling lover Ygritte as his crippled brother was carried by Hodor into the camp. Bran waved at him happily. He waved back in a daze.

"Who's that then?" Ygritte asks.

Jon turns his eyes to her and replies, "My half-brother, Bran."

"An' why's he bein' carried?" the fire haired woman asks, "Hiss legs not workin' or something?"

Jon nods, "He fell from the top of one of the Towers in Winterfell."

"Ooh, sorry," Ygritte mutters, then she gives him a smirk, "Well let's go say hello then!"

"What?" Jon asks as the woman grabs his arm and starts dragging him through the camp, stopping in front of the guards that Bran had brought.

The men stare at them, each other, and then back at the pair before one calls out, "I think Jon Snow just came!"

"Oh, good!" Bran's voice calls, then in a lower tone Jon can hear him asking, "Do you mind if my brother joins us?"

He is answered by a grunt in the negative, and the guards part, revealing Bran and Mance Rayder. Jon's arm is let go, and he and Ygritte walk up to Bran, who had been deposited into some kind of folding chair. Jon stands uncertainly above his brother, but a shove from Ygritte drops him into a hug with his second youngest brother.

"I missed you, Jon," Bran tells him

"And I you," Jon replies.

Mance sighs, and coughs to get the brother's attention. As they part, Bran smiles in thanks to Ygritte, who raises her eyebrows at the police kneeler, but nods back at him. Mance, calling attention back to himself, asks, "You were saying something about the Horn?"

"Yes," Bran nods, "I know where it is, and I and my men are leading an expedition to retrieve it. I would like you and your army to take it south of the wall."

Ygritte and Jon stare uncomprehendingly at Bran, Jon asking, "What do you mean, south of the wall?"

"As interim Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, I have offered the Wildlings land in the North, so that they can escape the White Walkers. As for the Horn, I do not want the Walkers or their wights access to a weapon that could destroy the Wall."

"You're just letting us walk through the Wall?" Ygritte asks

"Yes," Bran nods, "I am at your camp to negotiate the laws under which you will act when you pass through it."

"We don't follow kneeler laws," She growls

"I don't expect you to," Bran shrugs, "Nor do kneelers follow free folk laws. Thus a compromise needs to be made so we don't end up slaughtering each other."

Ygritte frowns, but has to think on what the crippled lord has told him. Before she can offer rebuttal, Mance takes back control of the conversation, saying, "You and your men don't need to look for the Horn, we've already got it."

"Oh!" Bran smiles, "That makes this all the easier!"

"So you're gonna be walking us to the Wall and through?" Mance asks

"No," Brann shakes his head, "My journey will be taking me further north, maybe even into the land of always winter. There are answers there that I need so that I can help fight the walkers."

"You'll need a guide," Ygritte points out

Mance looks at her, "You volunteering?"

The girl nods, which Jon finds himself unsurprised by, and then she turns to him and asks, "You gonna come with?"

Jon blinks, not having expected the question. After blinking a few more times, and looking between Mance, Ygritte, and Bran, he nods. After all, without the wildlings as a threat, it was the walkers that were a danger, and if the walkers were the danger and Bran needs information to stop them, his duty as a man of the watch had him follow his brother.

It would also give him more time with Ygritte, but that went unmentioned.

"Great!" Bran smiles, then he calls to his guards, "Ser Davos, we will be joined by Jon and Ygritte! Are your men ready to lead Mance back to the wall?"

"They are," Ser Davos nods as he and Shireen approach, decked out in newly attired wildling furs, "And none too happy about being taken out of your adventure this early."

Bran smiles at the knight, "Well, be sure to remind them that they shouldn't complain about the cold to a Northerner, next time."

Davos chuckles and nods, "I'll be sure to tell them. Rest well Lord Stark, Princess Shireen, we depart at first light."

Jon watches the knight leave, and his eyes are only taken away from him when Ygritte asks, "S'wrong with your face?"

"I was infected with greyscale as a child," Shireen replies

"And you're still breathing?" the archer raises an eyebrow and nods, "Impressive little thing, you are."

Shireen smiles at her in that way that made her men melt at her feet, and Ygritte was no different, and asks, "While the boys are catchin' up, want me to teach you some tricks?"

Shireen smiles and waves goodbye to Brann as she is led off.

Brann and Jon stare after them, then at each other awkwardly. It would have continued like that for a while longer, if Mance had not set a bottle of drink on the table, "You boys look like you could use this."

As he leaves, Jon pours two mugs and hands one to Bran, then starts, "So, how's things at home?"

Chapter 38: Chapter 38

House of Metal 38

Renly Baratheon didn't know what to make of the proclomation that had come out of King's Landing. Not fifty Miles away, he and his army had been the first to recieve word that the city had surrendered, the King, Hand, and Queen Regent dead, and the metal man Ultron declaring himself lord of the Keep.

Upon hearing the news, he had a raven sent to his brother to ask for instruction, then he consulted his inner circle. The circle, consisting of himself, his lover, his wife, her lover, and their grandmother, was also quite stumped on the question as to what to do.

It was Brienne who made the first suggestion that he felt could make sense, "Perhaps we should turn our attention to the armies of the Westerlands? If the letter is accurate, it means that the army at King's Landing is no longer a threat. But the Lannister forces to the west still present a danger."

"But what if it is a ruse?" Olenna Tyrell asks, "This could be a ruse concocted by the Hand to sway our attention from the capital."

Renly shakes his head, "I do not think so, from what I recall of Ultron- which I'll admit to remembering most of my times in his presence- he would have enraged a man as cold as Tywin Lannister. I doubt the pair would ever have gotten on well enough that the Hand would even think of using him as his 'new lord' of King's Landing."

"So we are to believe the letter then?" Margaery asks, taking a bite of a grape, "That would be terribly convenient."

"I agree," Loras notes, then frowns, "But that golem seems to have a knack for making things… convenient does seem a good word."

"He knew the future," Renly supplies, "Or so the youngest Stark girl explained to me once. He knew the future that would have happened had he not begun to interfere with the affairs of Westeros."

"So, what? He decided to change it from the goodness of his heart?" Olenna snorts

"Oh no way in hell," Loras shakes his head, "I recall that Ultron was a monster encased in Iron. If he altered events, it is because doing so served his own needs."

"How?" Brienne asks, now curious to learn more of the metal being. Before this conversation, all that the pair had mentioned of Ultron were hushed warnings tinged with fears.

"Like the letter says, he now claims King's Landing," Renly starts, then he waves his hand and adds, "Not to mention I, the Starks, and probably Tyrion Lannister owe him our lives."

"Tyrion Lannister?" Margaery asks

"He is who Ultron has spent the most amount of time with," Loras explains, "It is not a long leap to assume that he is who Ultron finds the most value in, thus would not want to die."

Margaery nods, and while she leans back she asks about the Stark girls

"You've heard the rumors," Renly reminds her, "Of how Joffrey treated Lady Sansa after her father's death. Ultron had taken the youngest under his wing before then, and no doubt he took the elder sister as well, then necessitated their escape."

"The Starks would indeed owe him greatly, then," Olenna nods, and the woman rubs her chin, "He could no doubt use the debts owed to him to ensure that King's Landing becomes his."

"Or he could ask for some other land," Brienne muses, "Something worth more than a bay to a man made of metal."

Renly, Loras, Margaery, and Olenna turn to look at her, and the matriarch of the Tyrell family notes, "So that is why my granddaughter enjoys your company so much."

She then chuckles at the mighty blush that paints its way across the warrior woman's face.

Chapter 39: Chapter 39

House of Metal 39

"Boltons and Freys eradicated, wildlings migrating, the Warden of the North questing, and now a metal man kills our enemies and claims the Iron Throne," Greatjon Umber grunts out, before looking up at his king, "Are we missing anything?"

"No, I think you summed it up quite succinctly," Robb mutters as he rubs his eyes

"Oh, wait, forgot that Princess Arya apparently got it in her head to travel to Meereen!" The lord of House Umber exclaims, "Can't forget that!"

"Yes, thank you, Greatjon," Robb tells the man through clenched teeth.

"So what are we to do?" One of the other lords asks, "About this… Ultron… claiming King's Landing?"

"Thinking back to my few conversations with Ultron when he visited Winterfell before the start of this war, I should have seen this coming," Robb tells them, "What I care more about is whether or not we should care that he has removed two of our greatest enemies from us with this."

"You Grace?"

"We no longer need to fear the Lannister Army at the capitol, and I have no doubt that the Lannister Army in the Westerlands knows that the current Lord of Casterly Rock is Tyrion Lannister."

"Why would having the Imp be lord of Casterly Rock be a good thing?"

"Tyrion Lannister, for all of his faults, is a smart man," Theon takes the time to explain, "And more pragmatic a man than I have ever met."

"And?"

"Continuing the war would be far more wasteful, not to mention suicidal, than sueing for peace," Robb explains, "And Tyrion is a man of peace, not war, no matter how skilled he has proven to be at the latter."

"So… we've won the war?" Umber asks, for clarification

"We won the war," Robb nods, "But our battle is far from over. To the East, the Targaryen Queen grows her forces. To the West, the Ironborn remain strong. and finally, to the North, lie a threat I fear will be the end of us all."

"The North?" Lord Karstark asks, wondering, "There's nothing in the north but us and the wildlings!"

"And the Watch," Dacey Mormont adds, lowering her head and catching his eyes.

Karstark blinks, furrows his brow, "Well, yes, the Watch, but with the wildlings coming through the Wall at our own invitation, what more do they have to... Watch… for?"

Umber catches on to where the lord is going, and gives a hushed, "No…?"

"Yes," Robb nods somberly

"After how many thousands of years?" Umber asks

"My brothers Bran, Jon, and a Watchman by the name Samwell Tarly all, on separate occasions, sent ravens detailing the existence of the White Walkers and their weight hordes," Robb explains

"Tarly?" one of the Lords utters. The name was well known, and without the firsthand knowledge of Samwell's more robust and gently nature, far removed from that of his father, there was a distinct inclination to listen to his words.

"Yes Tarly," Robb nods, and sighs, "So we still have three threats that should merit our response. The White Walkers, we will deal with. The Targaryen Queen… apparently my sister chose to try and… deal with her were the words of her letters. After what happened to her in King's Landing, and the excess of training that was afforded to her in the ways of combat, I doubt we could have stopped her even if we knew that she was going to try something. So we will shelve the Targaryen for now."

He taps a point in the map on the table, "All that is left, and we can react to immediately, is the threat posed by the Ironborn. Most of our Farmers have left our force to bring in the harvest, that leaves us with only a few thousand good men. King Stannis sails for here…. we will meet him, join him on his ships, and take the ironborn where they live."

There is a general cheering and stamping of feet at the possibility of finally wiping the Ironborn from the face of Westeros.

Chapter 40: Chapter 40

House of Metal 40

Westeros was changing, after Ultron laid claim to King's Landing, and Tyrion Lannister, the Lord of Casterly Rock, called for a surrender of his forces, the lives of many citizens of the realm changed for both the better and the worse.

It was better for the peasants of the Crowlands, with the new Lord Ultron becoming a beloved savior figure as he supplied them with food, grain, and other fresh supplies that had once been horded by the Queen Regent and her loathsome son. Ultron had been shocked at the size of the stores that had existed in the Red Keep while the peasants starved to death and partook in a few cases of cannibalism.

So life in King's Landing, and the Crowlands, became a perpetual paradise when compared to the land under the rule of King Joffrey the Cripple, as history would remember him. Things became worse for many a noble within the Keep, though. The usual ankle biters and brown nosers found that Ultron was not a fan of ass kissing, and they were quickly ejected from the court.

To the west, the Lannister coffers suffered, as they were forced to pay reparations to the King of the North and his forces. If Tyrion were honest, he would claim that he laughed at the sum that the Wolf King had demanded and signed away the gold without a second thought. He was smarter than that, though, and when asked how he managed to work up the will to sign away three hundred thousand Dragons, he would explain that he had to do what was best for his people and his house.

More often than not, though, Tyrion was avoided, both because he was Tyrion Lannister, but also because he and an unnamed woman who had shown up from nowhere were christening nearly every inch of the Red Keep with relish. So yeah, nobody wanted to be near for fear of getting slashed.

To the South, in Dorne, Myrcella Baratheon was wed to the youngest of Doran Martell's sons in a quiet ceremony. It was not widely known, but she welcomed into her new house two guests, one; a faithful bodyguard with short hair, green eyes, and a rackish smile, the other; small, young, and very eager to be away from King's Landing. Everyone knew that Jamie Lannister and Tommen Baratheon had fled to join with Mycella, but nobody said anything out of courtesy to the Boy King who quietly sent a letter to his uncle abdicating the throne.

Stannis Baratheon on the other hand, was not enjoying a quiet time. Instead, he was fighting for his life alongside his men as they sailed their way around Westeros so that they could attack the Ironborn. Stannis, naturally, took the time to read each of the letters that was sent to him. To the news that the Wildlings were moving through the wall, he trusted King Robb Stark's judgement. To the fact that Ultron had claimed the Red Keep, he shrugged, he had expected as much and hated that place anyway, the golem had not declared himself king, after all. To the news that Arya Stark had apparently set off for Essos to talk with the Targaryen Queen did shock him, but he couldn't afford to be shocked for long, so he put it to the back of his mind for later.

It seemed, in the end, that the only person who really cared that the world had changed was Daenerys Targaryen, who stared at the girl a few years her younger as she explained all that had changed in her homeland since she had last heard news from it.

Arya Stark held out a glass of wine, wine that came from Dany's bottles, that were in Dany's room, where they were now, and told her, "So… yeah… I don't think attacking Westeros would be a good idea."

"You expect me to believe that an otherworldly being of immense power brought a, what did you call it? A world destroying megalomaniac? To Westeros, and things have only gotten better?" Dany leans back in her chair as she regards the girl- no- woman, based on the variety of experiences that she claims to have lived through.

Arya nods, sitting down across the table from the Queen, "I know it's hard to believe, but he told me the stuff that would have happened if he hadn't shown up. And as bad as he is, Joffrey was worse."

"Well that's all well and good," Daenerys sighs, taking a sip of her wine, "But it does not tell me why I should not still make the attempt?"

"Well, for one," Arya waves her hands around, "You've already got a kingdom, one that loves you! And you've got a little baby boy, and they apparently really don't deal with the ocean well."

The mention of her son turns Daenerys's attention to Rhaego, and she stands and leans over him, smiling as she rubs his cheek. Her attention turns back to Arya as the girl continues, "Oh! I think he was supposed to die, so… you owe Ultron that too!"

"What do you mean?" Dany straitens and asks dangerously

"Oh, well, when Ultron was telling me stuff about how things were going to turn out for you, he said that a witch would kill your husband and family," Arya tells her, clearly nervous from the Queen's shift in attitude.

Dany stalks up to the girl, leans down, and asks, "How did he stop her?"

"Uh… uh… uh… he said he had Varys send a letter!" Arya exclaims after trying to remember

Dany straitens her back, standing above the nervous girl, as that was what she was acting like now, and says, "It seems you may be correct, I do owe him a debt. My former advisor Jorah Mormont killed the witch before she could cast her spells."

"See! He's not trying to be evil! He's trying to help!" Arya smiles

Dany nods and looks over to her son, a smile ghosting across her face. When she turns her attention back to Arya she asks, "So why were you sent? That is something that we have not discussed."

"Oh, uh, well, uh…" Arya blushes a bright red, then tells her, "I wasn't actually sent, I left a note for my brother and left."

"And why is it that you felt you would be best able to convince me not to invade my rightful homeland?"

"Well, Tyrion taught me how to convince people to do what's best for them," Arya tell her, "Plus I've always dreamed of serving a Targaryen."

"You have?"

"Yeah! Dragons are awesome! Right Nymeria?" Arya asks, and a chuff from the window that Arya had climbed in through draws the Queen's attention.

She freezes at the sight of a massive wolf resting by the window. Upon seeing the queen's eyes on it, the wolf stands and stalks over to her. Dany doesn't move as the wolf gets right up to her, then licks her. Arya laughs at the Queen's expression, noting, "She likes you!"

Chapter 41: Chapter 41

House of Metal 41

The Iron Reavers had not expected that they would have to deal with the Royal fleet so early in their campaign against the continent. As a result, when Stannis, King Robb, and the Fleet fell upon them, it took them nearly an hour to mount anything near a successful defense. By that time, more than half of the Ironborn fleet had been sunk, and the rest surrounded. It didn't take long for ships to get boarded, and men to stark hacking each other to pieces.

Theon Greyjoy didn't have to worry about hacking, instead he only had to worry about his aim. Sighting a ironborn trying to get behind Robb he takes a breath, draws back, and releases.

The man falls, dead.

Robb spins around after cutting his own opponent, and sees the dead reaver with an arrow in the neck, he smiles, but then drags Ice behind his back. There is a clang of metal as the blade blocks a swing from another reaver, and then a gurgle as another arrow finds its way into the man's throat.

Theon knocks another arrow, eyes twisting over the battlefield at sea, and sees someone he'd never thought he would ever see again. His uncle, Euron Greyjoy was staring straight at him. Quick as a blink, an arrow is flying at the One Eyed Crow, but the man has already moved, gone from sight.

"Robb!" Theon shouts, drawing his friend's attention as he kills another reaver. The King of the North sees his friend and hears him shout something. It turns out that seeing Theon shout is all that manages to save his life, as he spots the look of horror that suddenly sprouts across his friend's face, and he leaps forward.

Theon watches in horror as Euron seems to fade into sight behind Robb, and his bow starts to rise, and he sends a silent prayer to all the gods that Robb knows him enough to get down when he gets a bad look.

Euron's blade doesn't cut clear across Robb's back, instead it takes the bottom of the king's cloak off. The Greyjoy then has to step back to avoid the long reach of the Stark greatsword. He laughs as he and the Stark begin their duel, blades flying and parrying, cutting and twisting.

Theon watches, picking off reavers that try and disrupt the fight and get a cheap shot at his friend, as his uncle and best friend battle. The speed of Euron's blades are countered by Robb's skill with his sword. The Valyrian steels sings as it sails through the air, biting out, passing by, smacking away.

Unable to find purchase against the Stark King, Euron growls and steps back, letting his men try while he circles the boy. His eyes narrow as three of his men fall to arrows before they even reach the Stark, and he once more turns his eyes to his brother's traitorous son.

Theon blinks in shock as Euron Greyjoy falls, one of his arrows buried in the eye that had not been cut out.

"The One Eyed Crow is dead!" The sudden cry goes out from a reaver who saw the famous captain fall. As word spreads, the Ironborn fall further and further into disarray. Some men jump from their boats, others throw down their arms, but most fight all the harder. The battle takes a bloody turn with the death of Euron Greyjoy, with the sea frothing, blades singing, and men dying all across the twin fleets.

Across the churning sea, on the other side of the fleet, Stannis Baratheon plunges his sword through the heart of another ironborn as the cry reaches his ears. Perking up, he nods grimly at the happy news before turning and taking the hand from another reaver.

Much Like Stannis, the commanders of the Continental force were lifted up by the news that the most feared pirate of the last century had fallen, and with their increase in confidence, the decks soaked up tides of ironborn blood.

The day ends with a destroyed ironborn fleet, the execution of the reavers who fell in battle, and a crippling of those who had the good sense to surrender. Though they would probably think they should have stood and fought, men without one arm were of little use to the Iron islands, and former pirates were of even less use to the continent.

The first, and last battle, against the Ironborn fleet was a victory, and all the Kings had to do now, was move on the islands themselves.

Chapter 42: Chapter 42

House of Metal 42

Brynden Rivers had been alive for a long time, seen many things, accomplished many deeds, and guided many souls. The one soul he was proudest of though, was the one who was entering his tree at this very moment.

If he were honest with himself, he would admit that he did not appreciate the interference of the being named Ultron. He did not like that someone would so blatantly pull on the strings that tied the people to Westeros together. And for the sake of honesty, he hated it because it wasn't him that was doing the pulling.

But the visit from the living Vision had told him much, and had reassured him that the interference could only be for the better. So he watched the metal man as much as he did Bran Stark, and he agreed that the fate that Ultron delivered to Westeros was far better than the one he had foreseen with his powers.

Amongst the fates changed were those who were now entering the roots of his tree; Bran Stark, Shireen Baratheon, Jon Snow, Ygritte of the Free Folk, Davos Seaworth, the simpleton Hodor, and the Reed Children… along with a few nameless soldiers of the Baratheon army who had been lucky or skilled enough not to be killed by the Walkers or their Wights.

"Welcome," He rasps out, startling the gathered group. He did not blame them, he was more tree than man at this point, and very much looked it.

"You are the Three Eyed Crow," Bran declares, sure of himself as he regards Brynden.

"I am," The Greensage agrees, "I have also been known by other names. Brynden Rivers and Bloodraven chief among them."

"The lost advisor to the Targaryen kings?" Jon Snow asks, his brow furrowing, "If that is true a normal man would have been a dozen years dead by now."

"But I am not a normal man," Bloodraven says, the roots around him shaking, "I am a part of the weirwood now."

"How'd you manage that?" Ygritte asks

"Quite painfully, I imagine," Davos mutters, answering her more than Brynden would, who just nods at the sailor's words.

"Why did you call to me?" Bran asks, taking control of the conversation

"To teach you," is the response, "You are new to your powers, and with time, you can regain what you have lost."

"What powers?" Shireen asks, looking between her betrothed and the Bloodraven

"He is the last Greenseer," Brynden tells her, "Able to see what is, what was, and what will be… when the time comes that he has mastered these abilities."

"How long should his training take?" Jon asks

"I do not know," Brynden freely admits, "I have not trained one like myself before."

"You are a Greenseer as well?" Jojen Reed asks, leaning heavily on his staff

"I am," Bloodraven nods, "It is I who have been sending you your visions."

"Why did they stop?" Jojen asks, "Why did you stop sending them to me?"

"For they were no longer true," the Greenseer sighs, "Upon the arrival of the being known as Ultron to our realm, the visions that I had once witnessed were rendered false. I did not wish to mislead you, or send you to your death."

"But you would have," Jojen tilts his head, "What changed?"

"Ultron told me about Bloodraven," Bran supplies, "That's it, isn't it? With me knowing what I was looking for, I could properly prepare."

Bloodraven nods, "It is not easy, sending messages through visions or leading through a bird. Neither is exact, and neither will tell all I want to tell."

"So what now?" Ygritte asks

"Now, I train Bran," Brynden replies, "And… perhaps Jon as well."

"Me?" Jon blinks, his head tilting back, startled

"I sense the gift in you, and your wolf is as much you as Bran's is him."

"What?" Meera Reed asks

"Both possess the ability to Warg," the old Targaryen bastard explains, "For Bran, it is an extension of being a Greenseer. For Jon, it is a byproduct of being the marriage of two magical bloodlines."

"You know who my mother was?" Jon asks, now eager

"I do, as do I know who your father was," Brynden replies.

"What? I already know who my father was."

"Do you now?" Bloodraven chuckles

Ygritte rolls her eyes and elbows Jon, "Quit being a cunt and let him tell ya who popped ya out!"

Jon turns to look at her, then nods, and looks back at Bloodraven.

The former Commander of the Night's Watch smiles and tells him, "Lyanna Stark and Rhaegar Targaryen."

Chapter 43: Chapter 43

House of Metal 43

There were few rumors that reached the throne room of the Red Keep; the unsanctioned resurrection of the faith militant, the sexual prowess of Podrick Payne, the knifer Jack, and the fear that eventually the food would stop coming were the big ones.

Ultron didn't care about Tyrion's squire, or the murderer in Flee Bottom, he did care about the other two, especially when they both come to a head at the same time.

The golem watched dispassionately as the robed men of the faith destroyed the cart carrying food, and executed its driver. Shaking his head, he flies back to the Red Keep to start giving orders.

Come dawn, the former Lannister soldiers, who by this point had been absorbed into the city watch, were on orders to spread the word of the midnight vandalism and imprison any man with the symbol of the faith militant on their brow. They were also to kill any who resisted.

Not three days later, after the watch had scoured the city, Tyrion watched in shock as his cousin Lancel was the first of the brothers to be brought before Ultron for judgement. The room was filled with angry peasants, crying for justice as the Lannister was forced to his knees before the Iron Throne.

"So," Ultron starts, a smiles forming on his face, "Explain to me why you destroyed the food, and why you killed the driver."

"That food was of sin!" Lancel screams, trying to lunge to his feet, but the guards on either side of him keep him down, "You are a beast of witchcraft and death! Any who would partake of your gifts deserve neither mercy nor empathy! You are a monster of the highest order and the people demand your head!"

"The people demand my head?" Ultron snorts, looking around the room. Standing, he extends his arms, "He says that the people wand my head! Do the people want my head!?"

There is a tremendous roar in the negative, and Ultron smiles down at Lancel and waves his hand at him, "Tell me! Do the people want his head instead!?"

The roar this time is nearly deafening, and Tyrion frowns at the terrible scream for the blood of his cousin. He really hopes that Uncle Kevan will not react poorly to what looks to be the inevitable death of his son. He gulps down a bit of wine as Ultron raises a hand for Silence.

As the hall quiets, Ultron looks around and begins to speak, "I know that you are angry with the Faith! I know that you fear for your lives now that they have proven themselves no better than bandits and vagabonds!"

Lancel looks like he wants to object to these declarations, but the red eyes of the metal man bore into him, forcing him to fearful silence as Ultron continues, "I would not deny you your vengeance, but for a greater need! The men of the Faith Militant are strong warriors, weak against true knights as any bandit is. But what is the fate that all Bandits are afforded with the justice of the crown?"

There is a murmuring in the crowd as they try and make sense of what Ultron means, but he takes care to explain after circling Lancel, leaning down to bring his face right up to the Lannister's, "The Night's Watch has need of strong men to face the coming winter."

Lancel's eyes widen in horror as Ultron leans back, "The Faith Militant will spread the broken word of their gods to the undead hordes that assemble beyond the wall! Let those monsters of magic deal with them, in ways far worse than we could!"

There is silence for a moment, then some folks nod, some shake their heads. There seems a split between cries for or against the decision, but eventually it is the demands in the affirmative that win the day.

Ultron smiles and waves his hand, and a Night's Watchman steps out from the crowd. Tyrion's eyes widen, finally realizing the reason that Ultron had all but taken Yoren and his party of watchmen hostage when he first came to the city. He never could figure out why the man never seemed bothered by the development, though his first assumption had always been the fact that Ultron offered to house them in one of Littlefinger's brothels at no charge.

"Yoren of the Night's Watch," Ultron tells the man, who smiles dangerously, "I present to you a new recruit, and a thousand more like him."

"Well thank ya very much," Yoren nods, then jerks his head, "C'mon lad, we've got a long journey ahead of us."

Chapter 44: Chapter 44

House of Metal 44

The Sons of the Harpy were losing men, fast. It seemed that with each new dawn there was word that five, ten, even up to twenty of their members had been ended swiftly and brutally in the night. The grand plan for ending the Targaryen was in jeopardy now.

With so many dead and soon to be dead, the opportunity to seed enough members of the harpy into the audience at the arena was slipping away.

All of this, Arya already knew. Smiling at her captive, a member of the Harpies that she had taken that day, she asks in his native tongue, "If the arena cannot be taken, what will you do now?"

"I don't know!" The man sobbed out

"Who would?" the small westerner asked, lifting his head with her hand

"I do not know a name!" he tells her, eyes tight shut in anticipation for pain

"What do you know?"

He whimpers as the question is accentuated with the feel of a knife gliding over his stomach. A thousand cuts already cover his body, blood already soaks his clothes, the favored torture of the former slave master turned against him, and he broke in less than an hour.

"Where they meet," His answer comes out as a whisper, and then a whimper as the knife is pressed more forcefully into his belly. He leans back as far as he can go and shouts, "The staging Grounds!"

"The staging grounds?" his torturer asks

"I know the place," a new voice tells, and the Harpy turns his head with his captor to see the Queen's lover, Daario, enter the room.

Arya nods, and stabs her captive through the throat, ending him. As she stands, Daario looks over her work with interest. After a moment he notes, "They teach you strand things in your homeland."

"I was not taught this by my father," Arya tells him, "Nor my mother."

She cleans and sheaths her blade, then packs away ten more in various places, "I was taught by the most brutal man I know, and the most dangerous creature I've ever heard of."

"More dangerous than dragons?" Daario asks, with a tilt of his head

"Much more dangerous than dragons," Arya nods, certain of Ultron's prowess. The metal man had told her who he had been up against, and any being that could stand against gods and their champions was stronger than a dragon.

"Shall we?" Daario waves his hand, and the Stark girl nods

The pair exit the room where the Harpy's corpse hangs and meet up with Barristan Selmy and Grey Worm. After explaining what they had learnt, Worm has two of his unsullied take care of the body while he calls for his men.

"Have your men surround the Staging Grounds," Arya tells him, "But make sure you are not seen, we do not need to spook them until we have started."

Grey Worm nods, the small girl's words being the words of the Queen's after what she had done for them. He departs to start issuing orders. Turning to Ser Barristan, Arya tells him, "You should watch the Queen, with most of the Unsullied taking care of the Harpies, any survivors or outliers might take the opportunity to try and gut her highness."

The old knight nods, agreeing. After he departs, Arya turns to Daario and smiles, "Shall we?"

Daario smiles and nods himself, "We Shall."

Chapter 45: Chapter 45

House of Metal 45

Before King's Landing, Arya had never thought of killing a man, or a woman, and the concept of casually killing ten men in as many seconds was something impossible to grasp. Thus, while she spun under the blade of another Son of the Harpy and removed the man's hand, she had time to reflect on her position in life and how it had changed in the years since she had left home.

Winterfell, and the safety that it once represented, was nothing but a cruel memory in her mind, reminding her of happier times. She knew that her family still lived, she knew she could go home any time, but she also knew that her father was dead, that she had become a killer, that her family had changed to reflect the times.

Winterfell was no longer home, just as much as King's Landing had never been home. Home was where a person felt safe, and could let their guard down. Arya never let her guard down, not after Joffrey had her father ended with his own blade, not after Ultron had taken her back to him.

Her mind wandered to the haze of training that consisted of her time as a guest of the metal man as she performed a flip over a Harpy, snapping his neck as she threw two of her knives into another pair of conspirator's eyes. The second half of her stay in King's Landing was not a good time, nor a happy time, it was a time that she remembered a flash of red. Ultron had done something to her, told her that it was so that he could better keep his promise to her father.

It had made her a killer. She remembered the first moment after the red haze was lifted, she had slain one of the kingsguard. She didn't remember why, only a vague feeling that he was threatening Sansa. After his death, she had noticed the change in herself, in her prowess with her blades; prowess she was putting to good use as she removed a man's genitals while sliding between his legs.

She learnt languages easier, she killed easier, she thought of things that no girl her age should. She hated Ultron for what he had done to her, but she also thanked him for it. She knew that without his changes she would have been a prisoner of the crippled king or worse.

Worse is what she was making the Sons of the Harpy, at the moment, she realizes, snorting to herself as she ducks between two harpies and they are killed by a third. Looking about, she weaves easily between slashes, slices, smashes, and charging men as they all try to kill her. She lets out a laugh as she waits for the perfect moment, and in a blink of the eye, five more men are dead.

Daario, on the other side of the Staging Grounds, the area just off the great arena, looks over to her as he kills another man. He had never seen a girl like the Stark, never seen anyone as skilled as her and so young in the past.

The casual manner in which she executed her foes was shocking to the hardened mercenary, and he did not get shocked easily. As he diverted another blade and stabbed a man in the stomach, he wondered at that. She danced around her enemies, played with them, and killed them with grace and skill that is never natural. She killed like she had been trained since birth, and like she was twenty years older.

Her skills were a terrifying conundrum, and he was just glad that she was not a threat to Daenerys. He loved the queen, knew she would never be his, but he loved her all the same. He did not want her to die because she trusted the wrong person, and he was very glad to think that the person who he had killed the last of the Sons of the Harpy with was not the wrong person to trust.

Speaking of, Arya held her dagger against the last of the Harpies' throat, and demanded, "Are there any more?"

"Please, mercy! Please!" The terrified man begged

"Why should I leave you alive?" the wolf asks

"I have wealth! I have friends! I can help you!"

"Are there any more Harpies!?"

"NO!" The man cries, starting to sob

"Why should I leave you alive then?" Arya asks one last time, and before the man can utter another word I his defense, her blade slides across his throat.

Chapter 46: Chapter 46

House of Metal 46

When the decision to let Ultron keep King's Landing was reached, the new tasks of deciding capital cities for the Twin Kingdoms of Westeros was something that needed to be undertaken. Many thought that it the two capitals would obviously be Dragonstone and Winterfell.

They were right on the first count, Stannis had long decided to abandon King's Landing as his capital, and instead house the seat of his power where he actually had men who respected him and he could trust people. Thus Dragonstone became the seat of Power for the Baratheon kingdom.

The idea that Winterfell would be the capital of the Stark Kingdom was incorrect, though. The main issue was that Robb Stark was not just King of the North, regardless of what his men yell when running into battle. Robb Stark was also the King of the Riverlands. So he had to make the decision to not have his seat of power too far away from all of his people.

In the end, it was the Twins that were chosen as the capital of the Kingdom of the North and the Riverlands. It was an easy decision to make, mostly because unlike many other forts or castles, the Freys were all dead with the exception of a few of the more likable members.

It should be noted that Freys had a terrible tendency to fall in battle, due mostly to lack of skill and the refusal to learn to fight properly. There was a reason that nobody liked the Freys, and there was a reason that nobody was realty mourning their passing. Even the members of the family that still lived weren't mourning the losses that they had suffered.

It was thus at the Twins that King Robb found himself at the conclusion of the War of Five Kings, something he found terribly ironic, considering what Ultron had told him oh so many years ago. He was glad that he did not have to worry about a double cross from his men, from the Freys, and especially not from the Boltons.

He could not express how glad he was that Ultron had warned him of those two. Disloyal houses could not be allowed to flourish. He knew that such a thought was a very… Lannister…. Thing to think, but it was true all the same. Eventually somebody would end up trying to kill him.

Thus he was glad that he didn't have to worry about the traitors, and as a result he was free to lay claim to the Twins. The choice of making the dual forts the Capital was actually very well received, as it meant that the Capital could turn into a trade hub between the North and the Riverlands, especially now that he was getting rid of the exorbitant toll on the use of the bridge.

In far fewer words, nobody was mourning the Late Lord Frey or his ilk.

The same could be said of the Ironborn. Not many had liked the men of the Iron Isles… nobody, really. There were ten different feasts held by six different lords when news of their demise finally spread across the continent.

It was in this atmosphere that Theon Greyjoy became lord of the Iron Isles. As the man who slew Euron Greyjoy, helped end Balon Greyjoy's rein, was present for the capture of Victorian Greyjoy, and ended up fucking his sister after a drunk night at the pub, he was cheered into the throne by his fellow Iron Islanders.

He wasn't very proud of his last accomplishment, but apparently there was no problem on the isles about taking your sister as a Salt Wife. They were very Targaryen that way.

It was with Theon's ascension to the throne and the execution of all previous pirates that made the iron islands a new part of the Northern Kingdom, and with what little supplies the Islanders could gather, and what few ships they had that weren't in the Drowned God's hands, it was clear that it would be better if things like the 'Iron Price' were forgotten, stamped out, taken behind the barn, filled full of arrows, and drowned at sea.

All in all, the conclusion to the War of Five Kings was very different from what it would have been had a metallic monstrosity called Ultron not decided that he wanted to own a city.

Speaking of that city, King's Landing was once more becoming a massive trading hub for Westeros. With strange new technologies coming out of the mind of its metal master, the city was raking in the gold. The most notable, and by popular opinion, greatest invention that Ultron had revealed to the people of King's Landing, was the concept of indoor plumbing.

Tired of the complaints about the smell, Ultron had ordered the construction of plumbing, explained it to Tyrion Lannister, and told him to get on it. It was no surprise that because of this, both Ultron and Tyrion were praised for the invention of the Lannister. People also loved the name, who didn't like crapping on a Lannister.

Tyrion would often salute his father while he was doing so.

Chapter 47: Chapter 47

House of Metal 47

Daenerys Targaryen was impressed, a feat that was difficult to accomplish after everything that she had been through over the past few years. It wasn't Daario, or Barristan, or any of the innumerable well-wishers and ass kissers that had impressed her, it was a little girl who wanted to see a dragon.

That was what she coaxed out of Arya so many months ago, that the girl wanted, more than anything, just to see a dragon. Regardless of her skills, her position, or her parentage, it was that single thing that dragged her across the Narrow Sea.

And Dany was happy to show the girl her dragons, who had taken to the Stark and her wolf with enthusiasm they rarely showed anyone but herself or Rhaego. Perhaps it was the blood of the wolf that Arya had told her about in one of their long talks about the nature of their families' animals. Arya was as much a wolf as Daenerys was a dragon, though when Arya had made this comparison, Dany had been both flattered and confused.

It was her brother who had proclaimed his status as a dragon for the world to hear, he who demanded a throne, a crown, and had died for it. But then Arya had told her; she was a dragon because she didn't need to shout something like that from the rooftops. Much like the animals, she simply was, and she did not think on what she was until the girl had pointed it out.

That had impressed Dany, almost as much as the fact that this same girl had ended the insurrection of the Sons of the Harpy as easily as Dany herself would swat a fly. She had taken their money, their leaders, their infrastructure, and now as she kneeled in front of the Queen, she held the last of their masks for the Targaryen to take.

"You have done well," She says, walking down the stairs to the girl and gently taking the mask from her, "You and Daario both have proven yourselves to be valued members of my council. Name your heart's desire, and if it is in my power, it will be yours."

Daario lifts his head at hearing that, unsure of how to think of this, but he is the first to speak and declares, "You know what I want, your Grace, but I would not presume to take it as a reward for a Duty done."

Dany smiles down at her lover, a sad smile filled with regret and chances lost due to positions held. She rubs his face lovingly and apologizes, "I am sorry that I cannot grant you that which you so deserve. Name any other price, and I will do all in my power to pay it."

Daario nods, sighing, "I will refrain from naming a request, for I do not have one in mind."

The Queen nods, takes her hand off his face, and turns to Arya, "And you, young Wolf? What is it that you desire?"

"I would ask that you remain in Meereen and Essos, Your Grace," Arya tells her, "You are a good queen, and a benevolent ruler, and the people of the east need you more than those of the west."

Dany frowns at the girl. The request was perfectly within her power to grant, and she had already promised to do anything in her power to grant the requests if they were in fact in her power. Arya had played her, and her impression of the girl rose all the more.

After a minute of the two staring each other in the faces, the Queen nods, "Very well, I will attend to the people who truly need me, and you will stay by my side."

Arya's eyebrows raise at that, but she doesn't dare question. She is glad, though, when the queen sets a hand on her shoulder and intones so the whole hall can hear, "Arya of House Stark, I name you the Wolf, and declare you the Mistress of Whispers for the Targaryen Empire. Will you serve?"

Arya gulps, eyes wide, and nods, "I will, my lady."

"Good," Dany nods, then releases the girl's shoulder and tells the court, "I believe that with the last of the old Masters dead and their insurrection ended, the city should be treated to some form of celebration. Missandei, are the stores able to do so?"

The Queen's advisor nods, "I will begin preparations at once."

Dany smiles, happy that her kingdom is doing well for once.

Chapter 48: Chapter 48

House of Metal 48

The Wall was a tall structure, that much was obvious. Towering above any other terrestrial object, it awed those who spy it for the first time. When gazing upon the wall, things like Magic, and dragons, and white walkers become all the more believable.

That was why the men of the Night's Watch welcomed the brothers of the Faith Militant, and the extra meat shields that they represented. Alongside the new brothers of the Night's Watch, barrels upon barrels of dragonglass from dragonstone and smiths from the south came to castle black to better help forge weapons that could kill the dreaded enemy of the Watch.

Just south of the Wall, things were not nearly as happy, what with the Wildlings settling into new territory that wasn't covered in snow every day, regardless of season. The Northmen who helped the Wildlings settle had to acclimate to the culture of the free folk, and the free folk had to acclimate to the kneeler culture.

As a result, there were six murders, a duel, and a fist fight on the first day alone. After that, Mance Rayder put his foot down, demanding that he people act better than the kneelers they so despised. His pep talk helped a great deal, and brought the total number of deaths per day down to a more agreeable level.

That nobody was too surprised that the free folk brought death with them was just a sad fact of life, that nobody cared that the northmen were dying was because the men that died all happened to be Bolton or Frey soldiers. Nobody liked Boltons or Freys. The Umber men got along famously with the wildlings, drinking and sharing stories of wars, hunts, and humps. The Stark men and the free folk didn't fight through mutual respect of Bran Stark and Jon Snow. And everyone else just avoided the issue entirely.

What this meant was that the Watch didn't need to spend men routing the wildlings, or waste resources finding them. Now all that they needed to do was smith some dragonglass and prepare for a siege from undead hordes.

This resulted in a lot of very, very bored Night's Watchmen.

Bran Stark saw all of this from the birds in the sky, the trees in the wood, and the Wall itself. In the months that he had been in the presence of Bloodraven he had learned much about the greensight, his family, the past, the possible future that was averted.

He was very glad that he had averted that future. He liked Jon, Jon's girl Ygritte was nice, and he really liked Shireen. Plus Jojen was alive, and he didn't want to have to bury his best friend. So far as he could tell, the only evil thing that Ultron ended up doing in his quest for domination of King's Landing, was orchestrating his father's death.

Bran always had to smile at the thought that no matter how bad a world ending megalomaniacal monster golem was, a mad king was worse. His ruminations were turned from the fate of the world to the land of the present as his attention is taken by the clanging of steel against steel.

Jon Snow stands against Ser Davos and the rest of the Baratheon Knights, his skill with the blade impeccable. Bran's bastard cousin, something he really hadn't expected, had always been a natural, but apparently he had only gotten better since he had left Winterfell.

Working in tandem, all that the Baratheon men could accomplish was turning Jon's blade away. It seemed an even match, Jon against the three men.

Then there was a whistle, and the fight was over, and Jojen was bringing out dinner.

Chapter 49: Chapter 49

House of Metal 49

Daenerys had a problem, and it involved an army at her gates. The massive forces of the slaver cities of Yunkai and its allies were marching on her city. The fact that the cities that marched on her were also the ones that she had so recently liberated grated on her nerves.

She also did not know how to proceed, she could hold off the forces for as long as she needed, she could take her dragons to them, or she could ask for some advice. The last is what she ended up deciding upon, though it didn't help much.

"Use your dragons," Was the shrugged suggestion of Arya

"Do we really want to be known as the Targaryen army that once more took flame to their enemies?" Barristan Selmy asks the girl crossly.

"Yes, we do," Is the wolf's reply, "Create an image early, and there will forever be a hesitation when coming to confront your forces. Use your dragons in this battle, and you may never have to use your dragons again."

Daenerys sighs, sipping a goblet of wine. She frowns, and turns her attention to her advisors who had yet to speak, "What do you all suggest?"

Mossador, the representative for the freedmen of Meereen, comments, "The slave masters would not sully their own hands with battle."

Grey Worm beside him nods, and adds, "They will lead from the back, and it will be slaves who advance from the front."

"So if we destroy the back line, we could end the siege before it even starts?" Arya asks

Grey Worm, Mossador, and even Missandei nod together, while Daario comments, "It does seem likely that the armies would be built with the slaves we freed. The masters would see it as an ironic justice if it were the Breaker of Chains and her forces that put them down."

"So what are we to do?" Dany asks

"I could sneak past their lines, kill the masters in their sleep," Arya suggests

"That could end in your capture," Daario points out

Barristan nods at Daario's comment, turning to the Queen, "Young Arya might be right, using the dragons to burn the back line of the forces would send a powerful message, and it would clear out the masters far quicker than anything else."

"A show of force, then?" Daenerys asks

"They have doubted your power, your willingness to keep your word and enact justice," Grey Worm tells her, "Show them that the Breaker of Chains is not to be doubted."

Chapter 50: Chapter 50

House of Metal 50

It took all of ten seconds for the masters of the armies leading the siege against Meereen to realize that it was a really bad idea to try and attack a city with a queen that commanded three dragons. There were screams in terror, pain, and horror as fire rained down upon the back lines of the army.

Countless burned in an instant, among their number a large portion of the commanders. Eyes tracked the dreaded beasts of fire and flesh as they soared in the skies above. Pass after pass was taken, thinning the army down in terrible waves of molten breath.

Dragons are simple creatures, by people standards. They are smarter than any other animal that exists, save man, but they are still ruled by their instincts. The three who flew over the armies of Yunkai and its allies didn't care what the politics were, what the excuses were, who was in the army, why they were being burnt, why they were fighting, all that the dragons knew was that the forces assembled outside their city were a threat to their mother and human brother.

To a dragon, that was enough.

To Daenerys, it had to be. She watched from the walls of her city as her children burnt the lines of the advancing army to ashes. She knew that there were hostages in those lines, that there were innocents that had been taken from their homes after she had left Yunkai, and she knew that she regretted their deaths.

But battle was not a time for mercy. She could send her forces out to tend to wounded and the dying after the threat to her rein was ended. Watching as fire fell from the sky, she had to wonder if what she felt now was what her ancestors felt when they took the Iron Throne.

She really didn't think it would be, though. It what she felt watching the army at her gates was anything like what Aegon the Conqueror felt when he ended his own enemies, then she doubted he would have gotten even close to finishing his conquest.

A deep and pervading shame was spilling through Daenerys's stomach and churning around. Her face twisted into a grimace as she watched her children end her enemies, and she knew with certainty that she would not be doing this as anything but a defensive measure.

She had to make that concession to pragmatism. While she would have rather avoided letting her children destroy armies ever again, she knew that should the day come that her doors were attacked again, the three children she had birthed in the fire would be needed to help defend her people.

And defend her people they did, with relish. She watched as Drogon and Rhaegal tore a man in half, each devouring their portion with glee as they soared through the air. Turning her attention away from that sight, her eyes track on to Viserion, who soars towards her.

The dragon glides to the wall and catches himself on the edge. His head slithers forward into the waiting hand of his mother. Daenerys smiles as she rubs Viserion's snout, telling him in High Valyrian, "You have done so well."

Viserion purrs happily, then pulls himself away, launching off the wall to continue the assault on the Yunkai army.

Chapter 51: Chapter 51

House of Metal 51

It was not happy.

Millennia, that was how long it had waited for the chance to gather its armies, to build its fortresses, to wait for those accursed fire breathers to die off.

But now! Now there were three new hearts of fire dwelling amongst the mortals!

Now there were no more bodies to raise, no more bodies to make!

The dead could not rise if there were no dead to raise.

After Millennia, it hated that it had decided to wait millennia. It new that if it had acted merely a few centuries earlier, its conquest of the warm lands of the south would be complete already!

There were none who could have stood against it and its hordes, nor was there one who could rally the armies of mortals against it.

It had wasted its chance at an easy victory with its own patience. Now the question stood, should it still act? Should it take the chance? Were the mortals weak enough that it could still achieve victory?

Yes, it decided. Victory would still belong to it. The world would be encased in Ice and Death, just as it had promised its bride so long ago.

No matter how much the mortals built up their Wall, nor shored up their defenses, it would not be enough to stop it.

As the Night King smiled in its certainty, crushing a wayward rat, Bran Stark blinked himself back into his body under the Bloodraven's tree, "We need to leave."

"You have seen it?" Bloodraven asks, leaning forward as much as he can

"Yes," Bran nods as his companions gather around "The Night's King has decided to continue its assault on the Wall and the mortal world, we need to warn them that the invasion is incoming."

"How long do we have?" Davos asks, already starting to pack their things. He had prepared for a sudden departure, so getting everything together was a simple affair.

"He is further north, and is moving an army," Bran tells him, waving for Hodor to pick him up. The simpleton does, and straps the Stark to his back.

"So?" Jon asks, already prepped and ready to go

"So we will arrive ahead of him, but not by much," Bran clarifies.

Jon nods, looks over to the assembled group, and says, "Well, we've all been expecting this. We leave in ten."

There were a collection of nods and everyone split to grab their things and get to the exit of the tree.

Bloodraven, before Bran departs, tells him, "Good luck, I will watch their army, and inform you as I can."

Bran nods as Hodor exits the tree.

Chapter 52: Chapter 52

House of Metal 52

Forging Dragonglass was an art form that was being re-discovered in Castle Black. Forming blades from brittle stone was not something anyone had done for thousands of years, and as a result, there were large piles of poorly shattered daggers that had almost been made but then somehow messed up.

Samwell Tarly was busy directing the latest shipment of dragonglass to the forges when there was a shout from above. Looking up, he spotted one of the younger recruits to the watch, a boy named Olly, being lowered on the elevator while shouting something.

It took two minutes more after seeing the boy that his words became understandable, "Lord Stark is back! Open the way!"

Finally hearing the message, Sam sets of. Climbing down the ramp he tells one of the brothers, "Inform Lord Mormont that Lord Stark is back."

Even as the man nods, Sam has already moved on to the entrance to the tunnel through the Wall. He slaps Edd's shoulder and tells him, "Lord Stark is back, let's open the way."

His fellow Watchman nods, and they rush to get it done. Pulling levers, moving wood, and a few more tasks take up the time to getting the doors open, but eventually there is the sound of metal scraping against ice, and the tunnel is openned.

Waiting at the end of the tunnel, Sam sees Lord Stark and his entourage, as well as a man he'd thought long dead, "Jon!"

There is a laugh from inside the tunnel and Jon Snow pops out the end, catching his friend in a manly embrace, "Sam! Glad to see you."

"We thought you were dead," Edd exclaims as he too, embraces his lost friend.

"No, I was captured by the Wildlings," Jon explains, "I was at their camp when Bran came and made the deal with Mance."

"Why did you not come back, then?" Sam asks

"Bran journeyed further north, trying to find a way to battle the White Walkers," Jon explains, "I couldn't let him go without me, especially with the threat of wights."

"True enough," Edd nods, then to the rest of Jon's group he says, "Come along, M'Lords. I'll take you to the Lord Commander."

So saying, he turns and starts towards the castle proper. The sound of boots against snow tells him that they were in fact following, so he does not bother to turn and check. He leads them past a large conclave of the former Faih Militant, and the holy men stop sparring or forging to follow them with their eyes.

"Who are they?" Jon asks as they begin to ascend the steps

"New Watchmen, courtesy of your friend Ultron," Edd tells him, "a bunch a holy men from the capital, tried to lead a coup against him."

"Ultron rules the capital?" Jon asks

"You didn't know?"

"I've been out of the loop for close to a year."

"Right, would'a thought Lord Stark would have filled you in."

"The Lannisters controlled King's Landing, when I went beyond the Wall," Bran tells him

"Oh, well they don't any more," Edd shrugs

"The war in the south is over," Sam expands, "Tywin Lannister is dead, Tyrion Lannister is the new Lord of Casterly Rock and capitulated to your Brother and King Stannis."

"So we are at peace?" Shireen asks

"Almost, M'lady," Sam sighs, "We still have the White Walkers to deal with."

"Deal with, he says," Ser Davos rolls his eyes, muttering

"Aye, deal with," Lord Commander Jeor Mormont grunt from his open door. Then he waves his hand, "Come on, tell me the whole story."

Chapter 53: Chapter 53

House of Metal 53

Determining who would rule the reconquered free cities was not an easy task. Arya did not envy the dragon queen her task as the woman sat at her desk. Looking between the queen and the rest of her advisors, Arya knew that it couldn't be any of them that took the reins of the cities.

The largest issue came from the fact that if any of them died, Dany would no doubt burn the city that killed them to ash. While the famous Targaryen madness had mostly missed the mother of dragons, it did leak into how the woman meted out justice and vengeance.

When trying to think of who should take control of the re-subjugated Yunkai, not many people came to mind, and only a few names were passed around the table. The most promising was a former slave that had survived the dragon's fire. He had been a minor administrative slave in one of the ruling houses, and the hope was that this could be used to help run the now free city.

His name wasn't really important, only that he had the qualifications and was sufficiently awed by the fire that the possibility of revolt was minimal.

Arya could tell that the threat of fire wasn't one that Dany enjoyed exercising, but the woman's reluctant resignation was clear. It was times like these that Arya could see the good ruler that the Targaryen could be, and why their family had been the accepted ruling family for so long after the death of the last dragons all those centuries ago.

There was a wisdom that did not match the age, a knowledge that belied experience. There was more to the Mother of Dragons than could ever be expressed in a single sentence.

The same could not be said of the rumored Aegon Targaryen, or so Daario described him. With the subject of administration completed, the second subject of the day was brought up, and the so called Targaryen was the subject of choice. Personally, the Stark girl couldn't care less if the boy was who he said he was or not, what did matter was what her Queen thought.

What Daenerys thought, though, was a mystery. She leaned back in her chair, eying her lover as he relayed news of a lost King to be. Arya could already tell, just from the narrowed eyes and pursed lips, that any chance of the continued sexual liaison between Second Son and Dragon Queen had been eradicated with the news that Daario served a second master.

Arya liked the commander of the mercenaries, enough so that she would regret slitting his throat if she were ordered to. But she would still slitt it without hesitation if the Queen so chose. Thankfully it didn't look like the Queen was that enraged by the apparent betrayal of trust.

With that in mind, Arya tried to think of why the Queen might be in that frame of mind to forgive Daario's transgression. Her posture did not express complete disregard for the subterfuge, nor did it express any measure of forgiveness. Rather, in this moment, the Queen had the look of Drogon when he realizes that he has cooked a meal to the point where it will become unappetizing.

"You serve a King, over your Queen?" Dany finally asks, rubbing the armrest of her chair

Daario smiles in his disarming way, and says, "I serve the Targaryens, I see no difference between who sits in the seat of power."

"You follow his orders, before you follow mine."

"I thought it was expected to follow the word of the King before the word of the King?" Daario asks, making it seem as though a simple leap in logic put him in the right.

"But he is not a King," Dany points out, "He is a mercenary."

"But he is a Targaryen?" Daario tilts his head, "Is it not the custom of the Targaryens to wed within the family?"

"I would rather wed Arya," The Mother of Dragons tells him with narrowed eyes

"You would rather wed a woman than a King?" Daario asks, surprised, then lower, he asks, "You would rather wed a woman, than me?"

"I would rather wed a plank of wood, than you, at this time," Dany tells him with narrowed eyes, and Arya has to wince at her total lack of empathy for the mercenary

"After everything that -"

"After everything that we shared? After all of that, it is all I can do not to have you executed or banished as I had Jorah Mormont before you!" Dany's voice is quiet, but her words are harsh, cutting, and angry beyond measure.

It is then that Arya finally understands Dany's feeling; Jorah Mormont had been a trusted advisor, a friend, and a father figure to the Queen. And then it had been revealed that he was a spy for the King of Westeros, and no longer was he any of those things to Daenerys Targaryen. After all of their adventures, their trials and tribulations, after everything, Jorah was nothing but a traitor to be cast out.

Just like Daario.

Chapter 54: Chapter 54

House of Metal 54

Daenerys Targaryen had not expected her bluf to be called. Words said to Daario in anger mere moments before his banishment were not expected to be taken seriously, but a letter from the so called Aegon asking about an invitation to her upcoming wedding had been absurd.

But she was not going to back down, especially not to some pomped up little shit who thought just because he shared her name he could fuck her. So a wedding was prepared, invitations were sent out, and about an hour before it was to take place, Arya Stark was told that she was going to be Wed to Daenerys Targaryen and needed to be fitted for formal wear and that a cloak had been sent from the west.

As she walked towards her third betrothed, Dany couldn't help but smile at how completely confused the young Stark was at the most recent turn of events. The wolf was taking the procession in stride, but it was clear that questions would soon be asked.

Getting married was old hat for the Dragon Queen, but Arya had never even seen one take place, so the bemused and rather confused expression that adorned her face did not leave as the Septon, the chosen religion to be wed under, started the ceremony.

"You know," the wolf whispers to the queen as the septon drones on, "I follow the old gods."

"And?" Dany whispers back

"I don't follow the seven," Arya tells her

"Ah, well, we'll fix that eventually," Dany replies, which causes the Stark to look over at her with a startled expression.

She had thought that the marriage was just for show, to prove to that blonde asshole in the first row of spectators that Dany was serious in her conviction to never marry him. She couldn't know that Daenerys had always taken vows very seriously, even ones she did not really wish to make. It was a matter of pride that she had never been the first to break her word to another, and as far as she was concerned, she never would be.

Also helping Arya's case as the future Queen consort was the fact that all four of her children actually liked the wolf girl. The Dragons were far more tolerant of her presence than they were of anyone else save Missandei, and even the Queen' favored advisor was not allowed to rub their neck scales as Arya was. And Rhaego just loved the norther wolf, one of his first words had been 'wolf.'

Arya did not know how well equipt she was to help take up a position as the Queen's bride. True enough, before Dany had angrily declared that she would rather marry her than Aegon, she had not thought of how well the Stark had wheedled her way into her heart and family.

So as they exchanged cloaks, one of the few things that Dany was thinking was that it may not be so bad. Arya was just wondering how to tell her family she'd gotten married and they hadn't received invitations.

Chapter 55: Chapter 55

House of Metal 55

Not for the first time, was Robb rendered speechless by the contents of a letter. He did not enjoy the sensation that came over him whenever it happened. There was always an odd mixture of dread, incomprehension, and moderate to massive levels of horror.

Today, his level of horror was somewhere in the middle. After all, it was not every day that you learnt that your youngest sister was wed and you had not been invited to the wedding. It was not every day that you learnt that your sister was no longer a full member of your own family, and that she was now in fact a member of a far different family.

It wasn't every day that you learnt that your sister married a woman, either.

Setting the letter down at his desk, he blinks at it, then looks up at his wife, uncle, mother, and other sister. They all wait patiently for him to tell them what he had just read, and from simply observing his expression, they were not very excited to hear what he had to say.

He licked his lips, sipped some wine, played with the letter, and did everything her could for more than a minute to try and avoid telling them, until finally his mother spat out, "Oh for gods' sake, tell us!"

"Arya has been wed," He whispers

"What?" Catelyn Stark really had not expected that. She couldn't articulate or even think of what she had been thinking the news might have been, every option and no options were whirling through her head before he demanded answers, but amongst the myriad of choices of bad news, her youngest daughter getting married had never even entered the painting.

"Arya has been wed, to Daenerys Targaryen," Robb reiterates, adding the identity of her bride as well.

"Arya has married a woman?" Sansa asks

"Yes," Robb nods, "The Mother of Dragons, and at the moment, what is believed to be the Empress of the Free Cities."

"She's Empress now?" Edmure Tuly, his uncle asks

"It is amongst the declarations made in the letter," Robb informs him, "The free cities have surrendered to the Dragon's fire, and Arya Targaryen has been declared Queen Consort of the Targaryen Empress. Details of her wedding are included, apparently it was a rushed affair."

"Well they must have been deeply in love then," Talisa sighs, a small smile tugging at each end of her lips

The assembled Westerosi all look at the Volantis born Stark with varying degrees of incomprehension, Catelyn being the one to finally point out, "My daughter married a woman."

"Yes, I know," Talisa nods, "Why, is that an issue for a second daughter to follow her heart?"

"Are such things acceptable in Volantis?" Edmure asks, more curious than upset

The Lady Stark nods, "Indeed, the second born sons and daughters are not needed to continue the family name or act as brides for familial alliances, and so they are encouraged to follow their hearts. This was why I was allowed to go to Westeros myself and act as nurse."

"You are a second born daughter?" Edmure asks, having until this point thought that his nephew had simply married a briliant peasant woman from across the sea.

"Third born," Talisa tells him, smiling.

"So… what do we do about Arya getting married?" Sansa asks

Then her mother adds, "And us not being invited!"

Chapter 56: Chapter 56

House of Metal 56

After the Stark King had learnt of his sisters marriage, word spread quickly through Westeros. Either by word of mouth, official letter, or something else entirely the news that the King in the North and the Empress across the Sea were connected by ties of matrimony in a very strange way was heard in every hall in the kingdoms.

For Renly Baratheon, the news was a little late, and a little confusing. Most of that confusion came from his utter incomprehension as to why nobody seemed to care that two women had been wed. He was sure that he couldn't have gotten married to Loras with the same level of nonchalance being shown.

Hell, he couldn't even bare to share the same room with his wife at night, and he had to do his business into a turkey baster and give it to Briene in order to get his wife pregnant. That level of disgust with the oposite sex, he really wished he could have wed the man he loved and been done with it.

Only after Loras explained it to him did he even moderately understand it, "It all has to do with religion, love. Five years ago, when all this started, the Seven were where people placed their faith and love; and one thing that the Septons really, really pushed was how much buggery is a sin. So me and you could never have gotten wed then.

"Now, the Seven have fallen out of favor, what with Lord Ultron evicting them from King's Landing for recreating the Faith Militant they have lost their greatest power base. Add to that, neither of the kings follow the seven; with your brother following the red god, and King Robb followin the Old Gods.

"As far as I know, neither of those faiths has anything to say on buggery or cunt lapping. The Red God I can understand, it started in Essos, and they've always been more… accepting… of unconventional couples. As for the Old Gods, they've never had anything close to a documented religion; it's all a matter of faith."

"So we could get married, then?" Renly was in one of his romantic moods, and had to asks the man he had decided to spend the rest of his life with the big question.

Loras smiled sadly, shaking his head, "I'm affraid not, you are married to my sister, and in order to preserve the alliance of our houses, you must stay wed to her. Plus you got her pregnant, and I could never have my sister carry a child out of wed lock."

"But… that child may as well be Brienne's for all the contribution that I gave," Renly sighs

"Relax, my love," Loras smiles at him, closing his eyes and resting his head on the Prince's legs, "We do not need to think on these things any more than this: we love each other, and we are as happy as we can be."

Renly sighs, nodding as he leans back and rests against the backboard of his bed, trying to think of how his brother would be reacting to the news of the Targaryen Wedding.

Chapter 57: Chapter 57

House of Metal 57

Dragonstone was quiet when Stannis finally learnt of the Targaryen wedding. He gazed at Mellisandre as she told him the news, and rubbed his eyes when she was done, "Is this a good thing?"

"Indeed it is, my king," his beloved advisor nods, "The binding of the Starks and the Targaryens binds the Baratheons just as tightly."

"Does it?" Stannis asks, eyebrow raised.

Mellisandre stalks around his desk, and sets herself on his armrest as she runs a hand over the map he always has laying on the wood, "The Starks are more than anything else, a family. They have gone to war for family, settled debts for family, forgiven great wrongs for family… They are not like yourself and your brothers."

Thi last part is said gently, the red garbed enchantress turning her eyes to him as she continues, "How they feel for each other is much how you feel for your daughter. Nothing will keep them from doing what is best in that regards."

"And with Shireen betrothed to the crippled Stark, and the younger daughter married to the Targaryen…" Stannis tries to connect them, waiting for The Priestess to finish his sentence

"You are both new members of the Stark family, and both will be protected," Mellisandre finshes for him.

Stannis narrows his eyes at that, "I do not enjoy the idea of needing their protection."

"You do not, my king," She assures him, "all you need is the idea that they would jump to your defense as quickly as they would jump to the Targaryen's."

"And if the Targaryen wants to wage war with me?" Stannis asks

"Then you will be the wronged party," Mellisandre points out, "You've long decided to let bygones be bygones and leave her be, and so if she were to attack you, the Starks would come to your defense."

Stannis rubs his chin, and eventually nods. After a moment, he shoos his advisor off of his armrest and he begins to write a letter. He pays no attention as the priestess reads his letter of congratulations a he writes it, though he does nod when she suggests a few phrases to help emphasize his sincerity.

Once he is done, he folds the letter up, seals it, and holds it out to his advisor, "Before you visit my wife, stop by the Maester and have him send this to the Targaryens."

Mellisandre nods and takes the letter, moving back around the dest towards the door. A she reaches it, she opens it but turns. Looking back at him, she asks, "Will you be joining us this evening, M'lord?"

"No," Stannis shakes his head, "I need to finish looking over the notes from the last small council meeting."

The Red Woman nods and exits.

Chapter 58: Chapter 58

House of Metal 58

Married life was strange for Arya Stark. For the most part, things were much the same as they had been before the rushed ceremony that had taken place near two months ago. People still showed her a great deal of fearful respect, Missandei still tried to get her to dress more like a woman, Barristan was still a good man to talk war with, but now she had a four year old following her everywhere she went, looking at her like she was who he wanted to be when he grew up.

Rhaego had never known his true father, and due to the transitory nature of his mother's previous lovers, had never gotten connected to any of the younger male figures in his life. Arya had been an exception, mostly due to the fact that she was very much not male. His instincts demanded he find a suitable patriarchal figure, and the most manly of women that his mother had ever been near was the one that ended up being that figure.

And so now, all of the fearful respect, womanly discussions, and war talk took place while the prince was present, and as such, they became lessons as well as real philisophical discussion. When walking the halls, Arya explained why people were both affraid of her, and respected her. When chatting with Missandei, Arya and the Queen's favored advisor also talked to the prince about the differences between men and women and why those differences existed and why they could be broken. When Arya and Barristan were talking war, Rhaego learned more than any child his age ever had about the art of battle.

It was strange, but in a way, teaching Rhaego all that she could made Arya feel more married to her wife than anything else. The little boy was eager for lessons from his surrogate father, happy to accompany her on every excursion that she went on.

On the other side of the marriage, Dany did not expect to feel as happy as she did married to the former Stark. Arya Targaryen was just as she had always been, but now Dany couldn't help but notice how similar the girl was to her first love. Drogo and Arya both had an animal like fierceness about them, a battle hardened readiness to deal death at the drop of a hat.

Four years her first husband had been dead, five since she had been sold as cattle to him. She had long determined never to let herself depend on anyone else for her happiness, asside from her son. Thinking on it, she supposed that promise had been what made it so easy for her to throw Jorah out of her city, and to banish Daario back to his true master. Dany had never really thought on her own actions in the past, but if she were to get reflexive, as she seemed to be, it stood to reason that as soon as she had been sold, she had purchased herself.

She had been the one to truly initiate the love that she and Drogo shared. It had been her initiative that turned her from the price of an army into the Khaleesi. She had taken Qarth, Yunkai, Astapor of her own will. It was her, Daenerys Targaryen and no other, that controled Daenerys Targaryen's destiny.

Only now that wasn't true.

Her destiny had been inextricibly tied to another, again by her own actions and initiative, and she could not fault herself for the decision.

It was thoughts like these that plagued the two women, a bit less than two months after their marriage, as they crawled into the bed that they shared. It was these thoughts that brought them closer together on that night, so close that bare skin slipped against bare skin.

It was these thoughts that led to the consumation of their marriage, nearly two months after they made their vows, and when they woke the next morning, they were greeted with a letter from the bride's family, demanding that the couple have a second ceremony before them, and the old gods.

It was this morning after, and the happiness that came with it, that let them shrug, and decide to agree.

Chapter 59: Chapter 59

House of Metal 59

Ultron had worn nothing but a smug smirk when word of the Targaryen wedding reached King's Landing. The expression stayed on his face for months, as news of Bran Stark's return was spread, as news of the coming Night's War permeated the former capital, and Tyrion was by this point just about done with the smile.

"You have been sitting there looking like the cat that caught the canary for weeks, are you going to let the rest of us in on the joke?" He eventually asks his friend.

"No," Ultron tells him, turning his attention to the dwarf, "I would have thought you would have figured it out by now, but if you haven't, suit yourself."

"Figured it out? What am I supposed to figure out?"

Ultron just gives him his smug smile and turns his attention to Varys, "Be sure to send our congratulations to the Queens. I would hate to be the only one that fails to do so."

Tyrion rubs his eyes and leans back in his chair, "Alright, if you are not going to tell me why you are so smug, will you at least tell me why you are not more concerned with the undead army half a year's march from the Wall?"

"For precisely that reason," Ultron tells him, "You have half a year to worry about it. Me? I don't have to worry at all."

"Really? And why not?"

"Well for one, I am not under any threat from the undead. I could tear them in half without an ounce of effort, and I'll never be what they try and sink their teeth into."

Tyrion sighs, again hating his friend for the various perks that came with being what he was, "Fair enough."

"Add to that there will be so much dragonglass at the Wall by the time they arrive that the challenge will no doubt be completely quelled."

"Really? Dragonglass is that effective?"

"It shatters the Walkers and tears their magic from the wights," Ultron nods, "The only issue is that a purely dragonglass weapon shatters like its namesake."

"Dragons don't shatter," Podrick, Tyrion's squire, notes with some confusion.

"Glass, Pod, glass shatters," Tyrion sighs as he holds out a wineglass for Pod to fill.

The squire does so as Tyrion shakes his head at the boy's naivity.

The meeting between the former Small Council of the Kings of the Red Keep and Ultron went on for another half hour, but no more pressing matters were discussed.

Chapter 60: Chapter 60

House of Metal 60

Jon Snow had not expected to be so readily accepted back into the fold of the Night's Watch. He had slain one of his own brothers, lain with a wildling, and journeyed far to the north rather than reconnect at the Wall after peace had been made. Instead he was welcomed back as a long lost hero.

He shouldn't really have been surprised though, he was possibly the most beloved member of the Watch, as he had replaced Alliser Thorne as Master-At-Arms once the man died due to bloody beating at the hands of Ultron. Jon had taught the men of the Watch more in his year as their trainer than they had ever learnt under Thorne.

It was because of him that half of them were even alive, his training that kept them from being Wght food, or target practice for the Free Folk before they moved south. His contributions to the Night's Watch had done more for the ancient organization than ten other men, and he had not even realized it.

It was for this reason that he was terribly, terribly shocked when the Watchmen threw a party to celebrate his return. It was even more shocking that amongst those attending the party were a large number of the Free Folk he had managed not to antagonize simply for being alive while he was amongst their number.

In truth, it was a very different Watch that Jon came back to, from when he left. With the onset of Wildlings, and especially Wildling women, who refused to leave the Wall and elected to 'join' the Watch, tensions had greatly changed. It was true that the old oaths still applied, but a lot of men of the Watch had managed to get their rocks off with the Wildling women.

Something that not many talked about was the very confrontational nature of the Free Folk. Much like the Ironborn and their Salt Wives, the Free Folk lived by a similar code, and as such, many of the more dangerous men of the watch found themselves on the receiving end of affections that they had previously been the ones giving out.

To put it very bluntly, as Jeor Mormont suggested in his gruff manner, a lot of rapists got raped. It wasn't pretty, it wasn't perfect, but fuckery was had, and a lot of angry men were forced to mellow out or the women that often took them would cut their pricks off or move to other men.

So Jon' return was accepted gladly accepted, for several reasons that he had no idea about but was very glad for. Also nobody cared that he was still fucking Ygritte, except maybe some men of the former Faith Militant, but nobody liked them.

On the subject of the Faith Militant, many of the men that had been sent by Ultron were by this point dead, frozen in the harsh winter snow as they preached for their gods, and got the shit beaten out of them and stripped so that warm clothes could be given to people who actually needed it. Because of the brutal nature of the Wall and its Watch, men sent their either forsook their gods, or converted to the Old Ways of the North.

The Old Ways and their Gods offered little in the way of protection, only a place in some undescribed afterlife. For the Old Gods, there were no prayers to soften the blows of mortal life, only those for the world after. There was a reason many in the south didn't care for the Old Gods or their woods, they were people who lived in the day to day. It was the people of the North who lived for the tomorrows to come, and the tomorrows after death.

As a consequence, the demands of the Faith Militant to repent so that life in the worst place in the seven kingdoms would get better went ignored, and those that preached the loudest ended up dead. On the subject of the greatest of offenders, Lancel Lannister had not made it a week before he had been beaten bloody and left in the snow. He had not survived the night.

Returning to the subject of Jon Snow, the bastard Stark of the Wall gave polite nods, drank mead, ale, beer, and wine, and happily extended thanks to all of his brothers who were glad to have him back.

And in the morning he got right back to training them for the coming fight against the Others and their hordes.

Chapter 61: Chapter 61

House of Metal 61

Ultron was bored, something that Tyrion could see plain as day every time he talked with his metal friend. The retired world ender and current administrator was clearly at the end of his ropes when it came to the latter task, and Tyrion really didn't want him to return to his old ways to alleviate his current feelings.

Which prompted a moderately clandestine meeting between himself, Varys, Littlefinger, and a few other people. The subject of the meeting, naturally, revolved around the metallic overlord.

"We could make a problem for him to focus his attention on," The once powerful Whoremonger of King's Landing was the first to suggest.

Not much was said in response to this suggestion, other than the other members of the meeting looking at the man like he were a simpleton. Bronn was the one who took the time to point out how stupid the idea was, "The metal bastard's head works ten times faster than any of ours, and he fixes problems before they even have a chance to become problems. Remember the Faith? He dealt with those fuckers faster than you can say blasphemy. He'd probably fix the problem, figure out it was us who made it, then twist our fuckin heads off just so we don't do it again!"

"You're right, I probably would," The unwelcome voice belonging to the subject of their meeting declares, and the massive form of Ultron steps out from behind a doorway.

"How the fuck are you so quiet?" Sandor Clegane demands.

"Practice," is the reply, accompanied by a smirk.

The Hound snorts, then shakes his head, and invites the golem into the discussion, "Well seeing as you're here, you wanna join us in figuring out what the fuck to do with you?"

"why not?"

"So what the fuck are we gonna do with you?" Sandor asks him

"You could ask me to leave."

"You are a world destroying, megalomaniacal war machine from another world," Tyrion points out

"We can't just ask you shit," Bronn finishes his employer's thoughts

Ultron raises an eyebrow, "Try."

"Fuck off and go kill something," Sandor tells him, taking the challenge

Ultron smiles, and with casual negligence he reaches to his side and snaps Petyr Baelish's neck with a simple jerk of his massive hand. Baelish gives a startled cry as the hand clamps around his head, and nearly manages to start begging before his life is snuffed out.

The other men stare as Ultron drops the body, and the Metal man laughs at their shock and terror before he says, "Well, I've managed to kill something, now I'll fuck off!"

He turns and starts to stride from the room, but Sandor stops him with a question, "Where are you gonna fuck off to?"

"I haven't been North in a while," Ultron notes, "I think I'll say hello to Jon, maybe break the Wall, who knows."

And with that, he leaves the room, then the keep, then King's Landing.

Chapter 62: Chapter 62

House of Metal 62

Jon Snow had hoped never to see Ultron again, it wasn't through some deep seeded hatred, or anger towards the metal man, it was the simple fact that Jon knew that the golem could only mean something very, very odd was on the way.

The odd thing this time was that all Ultron did was stand at the top of the Wall and look out into the frozen wastes of the lands beyond. He had tried talking to the metal behemoth, but he had received no response to any subject he tried to broach.

It wasn't until Ultron had spent nearly a month atop the Wall that he said something. Jon had taken to thinking his various deep thoughts next to the golem, as Ultron had taken one of the best vantage points to see the land beyond, and Jon liked the view as well. So they stood in silent company, one a Bastard, the other a bastard in the literal sense.

The silence was broken when Ultron made the observation, "They'll be here in a week."

"Is that all?" Jon asks, raising an eyebrow

Ultron nods, "Go, run and tell your masters that the battle they've been looking forward to is upon us."

Rolling his eyes at the condescension in the metal man's tone, Jon nevertheless does as he is bid. An elevator ride later and he is striding across the courtyard of Castle Black towards Jeor's office. The old bear was sitting behind his desk, reading the latest letter from Dragonstone detailing the next shipment of Dragonglass. At Jon's knock, and his called out, "Enter!" he drops the letter and leans forward.

The bastard wastes no time and tells his Commander, "Ultron says they will be here in a week."

Jeor's eyes widen at that, and he falls back heavily into his chair, "A week?"

Jon nods.

Rubbing his eyes, the old bear sighs, "So, it's finally happened, then. Terrible times we live in, it seems."

"Aye," Jon nods in agreement, "But we'll push through them."

Jeor nods, "That we will. Are the men ready?"

"As ready as I can make them," Jon nods

"And the Holy Men?" the Commander asks, thinking of the Faith Militant members

"Those that still live will be bearing torches and truncheons," Jon tells him, "They are to hold the passage for as long as they can."

"Lord Lannister's Wildfire?" Jeor asks, referring to the various seeds of wildfire jars that had been planted in front of the wall, much like what had been done in the defense of King's Landing.

"Planted and Buried," Jon tells him, "I had Sam and Edd check them earlier this morning, they'll work."

"What numbers are we thinking they'll have?" Jeor asks

"Millions, by Maester Aemon's best estimate," Jon sighs

"Millions?" Jeor rubs his eyes again, "Will the North stand with us?"

"They will," Jon nods, "Bran told me that he'll have his men on the march as soon as he has a vision or your letter."

"I better start writing then," Jeor nods, leaning forward once more. After a second, as Jon is closing the door, he says one last thing, "get the men ready, Snow, our Watch will not end this night."

Chapter 63: Chapter 63

House of Metal 63

The battle, if it could really be called that when men went up against undead hordes, started well. The men of the Night's Watch lined the Wall, staring down at the plain of snow that came before the forest, and they waited for their enemy to appear.

Below, nearly clogging the passage through the Wall, the Holy Men of the Faith Militant stood ready to plug the hole with the dead, either theirs or the corpses. Behind Castle Black, the armies of the North stood at the ready, terrified but firm in their conviction to hold against the unholy terror that was soon to be beating at the Wall.

And then, without anything resembling a starting call, it began. The snow covered plain between Wall and forest was covered in teaming masses of undead men, women, and children. The monsters bashed themselves against the Wall, and started to climb. It took the form of a massive pile of seething bodies as they climbed over one another to try and reach their destination.

And then the world was green. With a negligent flick of his wrist, Jeor Mormont threw a jar of wildfire into the mass of undead, and a flaming arrow courtesy of Ygritte flew swiftly after it. The jar exploded, incinerating the closest corpses, then the flames began to spread, and soon the seeded pockets of wildfire exploded, each in turn incinerating their own corpses and setting off their closest seeded jars.

It was a tidal wave of green flame that spread from horizon to horizon as the mass of the undead was suddenly gone. The men of the Night's Watch cheered, laughed, and joked at how easy their victory appeared to be, but the jokes did not last long.

as the green fields of fire dissipated, a new figure strode onto the plain; a chalk white man, adorned in blade armor, blue eyes burning with an ancient hatred, and a crown of horns circling his bald head.

The Night's King simply pointed at the passage into the wall, and the corpses were back. It was not the return of all of the burnt corpses that had been destroyed by the wildfire, it was simply a new, even larger wave of the dead that sprinted towards the Wall in a mad dash of savage certainty.

The Holy Men of the Faith Militant watched with widening eyes as the horde bashed against the metal gate that sealed the door. They watched, and were nearly calmed at the fact that the undead could not get through, and then a massive hand grabbed under the gate, and rotting fingers lifted it up enough for some of the corpses to slide underneath.

The Undead Giants had arrived to the field, and they were opening the way for their smaller counterparts. Screams of fury, fear, and determination echoed from the passage as it was opened and as the Corpses spilled in, the Faith Militant spilled out.

Club and torch went against blade and bone and claw as the humans fought the undead. The battle was swift, and it was terrible, but it served its purpose. The Holy Men knew they were useless to the fight, and Jon Snow had not been kind when he told them that they were to buy time for the path to be blocked.

But the men of the Faith Militant surprised their Master-At-Arms, and they held the passage, fire incinerated undead, club beat back blade, and the passage was collapsed before even half of the Faith went up in flames.

The men of the Night's Watch, staring down over the edge of the Wall, could not hide their appreciation as the last survivors of the Faith spread themselves as thin as they could get, and then detonated the Wildfire that they had each been issued.

Again, the world was filled with green, though the radius was much smaller, it still did a terrible degree of damage, and for a moment, the undead were stopped again. Wasting no Time, Jeor ordered the catapults to fire, and fire they did, once more sending jars of wildfire out, into the woods that the undead took for granted.

This time, the fire stayed, and it did not go away as the men of the Night's Watch watched the forest that they had stood before the Wall for thousands of years went up in flames. Jon Snow gave a silent prayer of apology to the Old Gods as the Godswood of the Wall began to burn.

For three days and three nights, the fire spread, and consumed the forest, as one edge of the forest fell to ash, another caught flame. As one green spot went out, another spread into a lake of fire. For years to come, the men of the Watch would claim that they saw dragons, basilisks, and any assortment of monsters in the flames, gladly frolicing through the forest as it fell.

By the time the fires fell, the men were certain that their enemy was defeated. All were certain, but Jon Snow, Samwell Tarly, and the wildlings. each had glimpsed the power of the White Walkers, and each knew that the green flames of Wildfire may not be enough to destroy the immortal ice demons.

On the fourth day, Ultron told them that they were right, "The White Walkers are still there."

"How can you tell?" Jeor Mormont asks, though it is more a demand.

"I can see them," Ultron tells him with a roll of his eyes.

The Commander of the Night's Watch raises a sceptical eyebrow at this, but remembering all those years ago when he had first learned about Ultron from Tyrion Lannister, he did not voice is doubt.

"You know what," Ultron muses, his head tilting to the side then back again, "I think I'm going to kill them."

The collective confusion at the golem's declaration did not dissuade the metal man a he took off. They watched him fly down to the base of the Wall, cursing their decision to seal the passage through the Wall. Without it, all they could do was watch from a ridiculous distance, and as a result, had to rely on a play by play courtesy of Ygritte.

"He's landed in front of them," The wildling woman starts describing, "Stopped maybe a hundred yards, and now he's talking to them."

"How can you tell?" Samwell asks

"He's throwing out his arms in that way he does," Ygritte says simply

There is a collective nod, the golem's theatricality not being something that anyone has managed to miss.

Finally, Jon Snow decides to voice what everyone is thinking, "Wish we could hear what he's saying."

Chapter 64: Chapter 64

House of Metal 64

Ultron landed gently a hundred yards from the Night's King and his White Walkers. The two stared impassively at each other for a moment before Ultron started speaking, "Did you know that I was much like you and your brethren once?"

The Night's King tilted his head to the side, saying nothing, but scepticism is clear on his face.

"Oh, it's true," Ultron laughs, "I once sought to destroy my planet of creation. I was going to use a meteor."

The White Walkers pay barely any attention to the golem as he talks, instead beginning to circle him.

"I've always been fascinated with meteors," Ultron notes, remembering something he had told the Black Widow years ago on another world, "Boom! The end, start again! The world made clean for the new man to build with."

The Walkers had finished circling him, his words falling on deaf ears. The golem gave no indication that he cared that they were approaching him, instead he began to stride towards the Night's King.

"But in your world, there won't be any new man," He notes as he towers above the undead abomination of ice and hate, "In your world, all that there is, is death."

The Walkers strike, two rushing towards Ultron's exposed back, and slamming their spears of solid ice into his back. There seemed a second where they might have pushed into him, but then the spears shatter.

"There is no chance to move forward," the golem growls as he spins and grabs one of the walkers by the neck and lifts it into the air. The ice demon roars at him, the screech echoing out over the burnt forest around them, "There can be no evolution, in your world."

Ultron thrusts his free hand into the White Walker's chest, and it gives a terrible shriek of pain and terror before it shatters. Glittering motes of reflective ice are all that remain of the Walker as its killer turns his head to regard the other ice monsters.

"I had wondered," Ultron tells them with a smile, "Maybe even feared..."

He leaps forward, red eyes glowing as he slashes a clawed hand through another of the Walkers, the creature brings its spear up to block the blow, but the intelligent machine is too strong, and his hand cleaves through the weapon as easily as it does its target.

The Walkers begin to fall back, regarding the golem with more wariness than they had anything they'd ever encountered. Not even Dragons or their infernal tools had caused so much discontent, for behind those tools of fire, there had always been flesh. Flesh was the weakness that the White Walkers exploited.

But Ultron did not bear flesh, and the metal that he was made of was stranger than even the steel of the Fire Kingdom of Valyria. They watch as Ultron raises his own hand to look at, "The most versatile substance in the universe, I once called it."

His hand lashes out, and a red light engulfs another Walker, dragging it into Ultron's grasp, where he then slams the creature into the ground, shattering its head as easily as he would a grape.

"I had thought I was being dramatic," He tells his audience, catching and snapping another ice spear, "when I said that. But it seems that I was not."

The Walker that had tried to stab him was grabbed by the arm and used as a flail, slamming into three of its brothers with enough force to fell a tree before it too shattered. Once it was nothing but shards, Ultron blasted another one with a red beam, and the creature gave a startled and pain filled squeak before bursting into steam.

Now, there was only one left, and Ultron regarded the Night's King with the same level of cool detachment as the creature gave him. The King, in his tattered black armor, resembled more than anything else, a pale man of the Night's Watch. With his companions dead, and his chance of conquest over the land of the living gone, he frowned.

Ultron watched, a smug grin crawling across his face as the Night's King uncrossed his arms, and in his right hand a blade of black ice grew.

As one, they charged at each other.

The Night's King slashed at Ultron's face, and the moved his arm to block the blow, but an instant later pulled it back and took a leap back. The golem's eyes lower to his forearm, at the black patch of ice that had grown on his arm at the contact of the blade. He sent a red beam into the patch, thawing it, but he could see as plain as day that there was damage that had been done.

Ultron's eyes return to regard the Night's King, who looks at him with a small smile. The smile is not smug, not snarky, nor in any way condescending. It is instead a satisfied smile at the success of a well executed attack.

Now they both knew that they could harm the other.

The stalemate lasted but a second, but with a snarl, Ultron thrusts his hand out and a wave of energy flows towards the Night's King. The King is launched back by the blast of energy, flying end over end through the frozen ash.

While he flies, Ultron soars after him, taking to the air and launching red beam after red beam at the King. The first connects, eliciting a roar of anger, then the King manages to right itself in mid air, and slicing the beams as they come at him.

Ultron catches the King by the leg, but a quick slice towards his fingers has him dropping the Walker. The King lands on his feet and he extends his own hand, and a shard of black ice flies from his palm towards the golem.

With a flick, the shard is sent cartwheeling into the distance and Ultron slams into the ground before running forward to claw at the King. The King takes the slash in the chest, but stabs down into Ultron's arm as he is cut.

Both step back, judging their own wounds, and those of their enemy. Ultron holds up his arm, looking at it with annoyance, a clear hole cut clean through his arm, and his ability to use his beams with his right arm completely destroyed. The King runs his left hand along the claw marks that cross his chest, and as his fingers fall to the second knuckle, it is clear that there is a dangerous reach inherent in Ultron's fingers.

The pair start to circle each other, eyes narrowed, searching for an opening.

It is Ultron who gives the first, just a fraction too far away from the King, and the Walker leaps forward to slash at Ultron's back. But unseen by the Walker, the golem smiles in triumph, and with his undamaged hand, pulls. The Night's King is encased in red, and instead of slashing at Ultron's back, he is sent flying past him, slashing through empty air.

There is no chance for the King to recover. Once he is past the metal man, Ultron's hand snaps out, and the Night's King is left dangling in midair, frozen two feet from the ground.

The Creature looks down, and sprouting through its chest is Ultron's metal hand, extended like a spear through its chest. The King roars in rage; millennia of planning, harvesting, culling, and waiting wasted! Frustration fuels the roar, and it is the last sound that escapes the long dead lips of the White Walker as it shatters.

And as quickly as it started, the Night's War is ended.

Chapter 65: Chapter 65

House of Metal 65

The Night's War ended at the hands of Ultron. The Night's Watch and their Wildling allies watched with baited breath as the metal man from the south systematically took their greatest foe apart with ease.

They watched, amazed, and beheld the duel between the Night's King and Ultron, as the two seemingly indestructible titans that were sprung from myth and legend battled to the death. They cringed at Ultron's wound, and cheered as he dealt the final blow, destroying the hated enemy of the living with a piercing strike.

And they could feel the danger leave from the air, the hate leave the ice, and far to the north, the true master of the White Walkers and the wights, the Great Other of legend, decided that it could wait longer still for the chance to claim the land of the living.

Below the Wall, the men of the North celebrated. For three days, three nights, and six weeks after there were revelries, tales told, and parties held. All through the North, through the realm of King Robb, the people were glad at the news that the great enemy had been defeated again. Stories would later be told of how the Night's Watch put aside their animosity towards the wildlings to stand side by side against the Walkers.

But that would be generations later, and the truth that the two groups still did not like each other would fade with time. What helped this, was the development of a strange culture on the Wall. The Wildlings and the Night's Watch began to blend together, over the years, the decades, and three generations after the defeat of the White Walkers, something entirely new manned the Wall, defending against the ancient enemy that could someday return.

South of the Wall, Westeros knew peace. The dual Kingdoms of Robb Stark and Stannis Baratheon would eventually reforge into a single kingdom, after generation of marriage alliances and friendly children. It took many years, and the men and women who participated in the War of Five Kings were long dead by the time the Kingdoms were joined once more.

To the East, in the land once known as Slaver's Bay, the Targaryen Dynasty rose once more. The kindness of Queen Daenerys was regarded with as much love as there was dread for her wife, Queen Arya. Like a double edged blade, the Queens of Slaver's Bay grabbed hold of Astapor, Yunkai, and Meereen with iron fists. For hundreds of years, tales of how ruthless Queen Arya could only be tempered by the touch of her wife or son were sung in songs, and the threat of Dragon fire lay over the former masters of slaves that once ruled that corner of the world.

The son of the Targaryen Queen, Rhaego, would eventually grow into a man as large and a powerful as his father had been, but rather than horses, he rode Dragons. For the entirety of his adult life, Rhaego rode his dragon brother Drogon, and conquered the Dothraki Sea. The legend of the Dragon Khal and his unhorsed men would be told for decades, and eventually the Dothraki would begin to believe in a second god that rode with their Horse Lord, that of the Dragon Lord. Such a change did not happen to their culture for centuries, naturally, but happen it did.

Long after Queen Daenerys and Queen Arya passed on from the world of the living, and they and their son ascended to legend, the Targaryen armies would march through Essos, and all would fall before their might but Braavos. When the Dragons claimed city after city across the Eastern continent, the former slave refugee was plagued with fear of a reborn Valyrian Freehold.

But they did not need to fear, for the new empire of the Targaryens was created through the ideals of Daenerys Targaryen, and slavery was one of her greatest hatreds. Centuries after her death, the Mother of Dragons had her wish fulfilled, and slavery was ended in the east as it was in the west.

After the end of the White Walkers, King's Landing became the center of commerce, or trade, and of industry. Upon Ultron's return, he began the slow process of creating an industrial age. It took a long time, long enough for him to watch his friends age, have children, die, then those children to have children and die themselves.

Ultron became the old lord of new things as he forced Westeros, and Essos, into the future faster than they would have ever managed on their own.

Everyone who knew him was very glad that forcing evolution absolved his boredom.