Disclaimer: Naruto belongs to Masashi Kishimoto and Song of Ice and Fire belongs to G.R.R. Martin. I do not, nor do I pretend to own these IPs. Anything else you recognize from anywhere else is also not mine to own. Game of Thrones is a registered trademark of HBO.

Bell Ringer Inn (Two months later)

Two children, one of eight and other of ten name-days are sparring with practice swords laughing merrily as they tried to swipe at each other.

"Who's ya friend Lady Arya?" An irritated voice asked as the daughter of North looked sheepishly with mud-stained clothes. "Lord Bolton 'as been searching for ya."

"Sorry Harken." She rubbed back of her head laughing awkwardly. "His name is Mycah, a butcher's son." The boy behind her bowed uneasily. "He wanted to become a knight so I was teaching him some basic stances. So where is Ael… sorry Lord Bolton?"

"In ya father's tent." The burly man in Stark colors shrugged. "The leech lord 'ave a shipment bought by one of Bolton's bannermen. Says his name as Yellow Dick." Hiding a smile at the amusement of Lady Underfoot he continued. "Yeah odd name that cunt have. Both of them are checking the merchandise. 'upposedly made in fa'tory recently built in Bolton's territory"

"Lead us to them Harken." She ordered.

"Me don't think Lord Stark would be pleased to see ya this dirty." Looking at the equally mud-stained boy he continued dryly. "Lord Leech migh' 'ove to add 'im as other skin to his collection though." The poor boy was shivering in fright.

"Harken… don't scare my friend off." The pint-sized girl scolded the man more than foot and half taller than herself. "I am sure father or Lord Bolton won't mind him too much." Pulling the boy by his arm she skipped to the tent where her father and Aella are present.

Reaching the tent she was greeted by Rodrick who glared at her a bit as she escaped him to play outside but slumped his shoulders dejectedly when she grinned at him. Walking inside she saw her father looking at the merchandise which is in a large chest placed in between two of them. Ned was looking at the glass said to be produced in Bolton's factory with awe and her cousin seemed bored out of her mind.

"How much are we charging for a pound of this material, Roose?" Her father asked softly. "This must have cost a fortune to make."

"A bit less than what Myrish traders charge, Lord Stark. And it is lot less costly to produce than Myrish glass. But I'd leave it for the King to set final price we are to sell this. And we'll sell it at the exact price. Have to make the southerners believe we are nothing more than honorable fools. Less headache for us that way."

"How much profit, by selling this glass at the market price I mean, we are talking about?" He asked his niece apprehensively.

"Well if we sell it at half the market price…" She hummed softly in thought. "We'll be able to pay back the loan with interest in three months."

"Four and half million gold dragons in three months!" her father shouted in shock. "How on earth is that possible?"

The girl wearing the Leech Lord's face shrugged before turning towards the two newcomers one of whom bowed nervously. "Who's the lad with you Lady Arya?"

"His name is Mycah, Lord Bolton. He's a butcher's son who wanted to be a knight." Turning towards her father she pleaded "Can we keep him please father?"

"He's not a possession Arya." Her father scolded but there's a hint of mirth in his eyes. Aella's face, however, was completely void of motions.

"Boy…" she spoke harshly in a soft tone. "Do you know how to use a sword?"

"No milord." The pudgy boy replied sweating heavily. "I was not trained in the sword or any other weapons."

The 'crippled Lord' stared at him for a few minutes making the boy fidget nervously. A few moments later "Arya needs a training partner. Guess you'll do."

The 'Leech Lord' scribbled something on a parchment rolled it at gave it to the shell-shocked boy. "But I was not trained in any weapon, Lord Bolton. And I never trained before in my life."

"It means I can teach you from start. It makes it easier to teach ya as you are not taught the wrong forms." Pale eyes slowly taking in his form, the Leech Lord's face frowned a bit. "Have to lose some weight though."

"Thank you for ya kindness and this honor mi'lord." The pudgy boy bowed in respect. "I'll not fail ya."

"Leave this tent and take this to Locke. He's Master of Arms of Dreadfort and will show your place in this caravan." When both the children made a motion to leave he ordered. "Only the boy goes. Stay back, Lady Arya."

The grey-eyed girl tried to protest but abandoned the thought as soon as it entered her mind. This is not her father or any of his bannermen who'll bear her antics with a smile. She's dealing with her cousin who is willing to tolerate disrespect and disregard for formality but expects each and every one of her orders to be followed without any questions. So even though she wanted to go out with her friend she swallowed her protests and stood rigidly as her new friend left merrily out of the tent. A few moments later with few hand-seals from the 'crippled Lord' suddenly the bright tent hummed to life as the flaps started to close darkening the tent and thousands of previously unseen odd characters started to glow blue along the walls and floors. Candles lit by themselves giving the room an oddly oppressive atmosphere.

"Don't worry." The previously cold and soft masculine voice changed smooth dulcet tone as all the present members in the tent jumped at the changes. "I just have secured the tent. No one would be able to spy on us now and none of the guards can overhear our words." Taking a deep breath she continued.

"We are mostly selling everything through Iron Bank and I asked for three years to clear the debt. Actually all I need is one and half million out of four and a half million gold dragons for the factory Uncle."

"So why ask for four and a half million dragons then?" Arya asked a bit puzzled at her cousin's motives.

"To build a navy." Was Aella's simple reply.

"But we have Manderlys for ships, don't we Aella?" The Wolf Lord protested a bit vehemently. "It's not necessary for us to build a navy."

The bastard of Red Keep sighed calmly. "House Manderly have merchant ships, not war-ships Uncle Ned. And why are you so against building a navy."

"I think it's useless. I mean till now North didn't need a navy. And we don't have enough men to support the army. So why waste money on something like…" He trailed off when his niece started to glare at him.

"In Greyjoy Rebellion, do you know who lost the most number of soldiers, Lord Stark?" The girl hissed out coldly. "The most number of resources is lost by Westerlands but the most number of lives are lost from the North. The North already has been warned about Rebellion but they lost nearly a quarter of their soldiers. All because we bloody don't have a navy. Our losses are not higher because those Greyjoy cunts decided to try their luck on land. Till the support from Crownlands had arrived they looted our cities from the sea and it caused a great loss of life. If not due to the rangers of Night watch we won't even have knowledge where they are attacking. The North is lucky to survive the rebellion uncle. You know that uncle. I saw you read the reports myself. The question is why on earth you didn't build a navy till today?"

"I-I…" Ned started to stammer but was cut off. "Now the reason you're reluctant to build a navy? The real reason why you're against it?"

"Because of tradition." The lord of Winterfell shouted. "Our ancestor Brandon the Burner burnt all the ships and decreed no Stark is to build a navy to prevent the temptation of the sea. So there…that's the reason why Starks never had a standing Navy."

"Because of an old cunt, who could have surpassed my father's family in madness, issued a foolish decree that no one is to build a navy you didn't build one? What if his father died falling off horseback? Would he have killed all the horses and decreed horse riding or training with them illegal? And would you have followed that decree uncle? "

There's no answer to it and all the members in the tent knew it. "Anyway the main reason I called Arya because I want both of you to know what to expect in King's Landing." The normally calm girl scowled heatedly.

"First and foremost thing you need to know is everyone will insult you and make japes at you to get raise out of you." The girl clenched and unclenched her fists as if trying to keep her temper in check. "Unless you want a war or your head on a block don't respond to them. Arya, most importantly you are not allowed to go out without any guard. While we are in King's Landing don't go out on your own. No more befriending strangers no more being underfoot. You will be under scrutiny the most Arya and I will not be the only person watching. The each and every Lord in the South present in King's Landing will be watching you just to see you make a mistake."

"Why so many restrictions on her?" Ned spoke with a hint of concern. "I understand we need to be careful but I noticed the most of your advice was said to Arya. And Stark girls are not usually good at following any advice. Your mother and Arya especially are bad at them. Sansa for all her starry-eyed nature at least listens to orders."

"Partially true I guess…" her cousin hummed ignoring her protests. "About both of them. But Arya listens to my words and follows them over your orders. It could be false for Sansa. I mean if I wanted to I can make her listen when she's idiotic but I don't waste my time with narrow-minded people." Suddenly her eyes glazed a bit before turning normal.

"Anyway the next order of business… Arya, I have a gift for you." From the compartment, she pulled out a scroll and unfurled it. A few hand-signs later there's a puff of smoke a thin skinny wooden sword of 24 inches along with other scroll came into existence.

"This scroll contains instructions to follow until we reach the King's Landing. This is the first form of sword style in which you'll be instructed." Arya eagerly took the sword and the scroll. Deactivating the seals "You may leave now."

Reactivating the seals after Arya was away Aella opened another storage scroll and unsealed it. This time three things puffed into existence. A sheathed slender long-sword, an urn, and a weirwood longbow. The blade was slender and the handle was golden with a three-headed dragon as pommel and ruby as the centerpiece. Without even unsheathing the sword Ned recognized the ancestral blade.

"Is that Dark Sister, the lost ancestral blade of House Targaryen?" When his niece nodded he rubbed his temples and asked "Where on earth did you get it?"

"Well, I took it from the three-eyed raven." The girl shrugged nonchalantly. "Those are his ashes and his weirwood longbow. Even though called a bastard and kin-slayer Bryden Rivers served the realm exceptionally. So we're sending his ashes to his family."

"How did you come across his corpse?"

The girl's mood changed turning frigid in a matter of seconds. "I didn't take the sword from his corpse Uncle Ned. I took the sword killed the three-eyed raven with it and after cremating Bryden Rivers's body I bought his ashes along with the long-sword and longbow." Any further questions are dissuaded by the scowl on his niece's face.

"Come on brat. If that moron who called himself Three-Eyed Raven didn't try to possess your body, you wouldn't have known that my brothers have survived and we are not in other dimension but just far ahead in our time." Her friend spoke calmly. "And it's not like anyone can succeed with me inside you."

A week ago…

Benjen Stark was starting to feel delusional. How else could he explain the sight of his deceased sister's hovering above him, this far to the North of Wall as he lay bleeding from the arrow that pierced his shoulder.

It all started when three of his Black brothers Garth Greyfeather, Gared and Will were sent near the Haunted forest to scout for Wildlings and Mance Rayder. Even though two moon turns have passed none of them came back. All three of them are experienced and should have returned sennight ago. As they have not returned yet, it was assumed that they are either killed by Wildings or have deserted the Watch. So he's sent out to find them or at least find their bodies and if still alive he is to execute them for breaking their vows.

As the First Ranger, he was given six men under his command to search for what happened to their brothers. Benjen knows Haunted Forest better than any other ranger as this is the place he scouted more often than other places and something seems wrong here.

Few axes had ever swung in that black wood, where even the moonlight could not penetrate the ancient tangle of root and thorn and grasping limb. Out there the trees grew huge, and he swore that they seemed to brood, not unlike his brother. It was small wonder the Night's Watch named it the haunted forest. The first time he had been sent beyond, all the old stories had come rushing back, and his bowels had turned to water. He had laughed about it afterward. He was a veteran of a hundred rangings by now, and the endless dark wilderness that the southern called the haunted forest had no more terrors for him.

But now no one who came with him would admit to being afraid—they were men of the Night's Watch, after all—but Benjen could feel the unease. Four empty villages, no wildlings anywhere from his men's reports, even the game seemingly fled. The haunted forest had never seemed more eerie more sinister. Five of them returned and one of them is still yet to come.

"Othor get on the tree." He ordered. "Rest of you prepare a camp here. Be on a lookout against Wildlings. We'll move in a few hours..."

"First Ranger…" the last one of his men Jafer galloped towards him. Getting down his horse he showed the remaining men a broken sword with three sapphires on the hilt. They easily recognized it as Garth's sword.

"Where did you find it?" Benjen demanded. "To North of here."

"Let's go there and complete our ranging and leave this goddamn cold behind us." One of his men cheered

"But that's near icy-river clans. It's dangerous to go there." Benjen spoke up. "Best case if we're found is we'll be dead. Or they'll cook us alive."

"About that, First Ranger..." Jafer spoke uneasily. "There are no wildlings present there. Only eight dead bodies of wildlings are seen and the rest of the village was deserted."

"Strange…" Benjen thought uneasily. "Anyway let's go then."

The greatest mistake Jafer has done is not to check whether they are truly dead. The moment they reached the bodies all of them rose up seemingly out of slumber. Normally it won't be much of a problem for experienced Crows but what they face is something more dangerous. Something extremely horrifying.

Those star-like blue eyes might be a common feature but few of them have rotting faces with an unusual smell that made their hairs raise. The air around them went colder and one of them started to screech. Immediately his men started to attack with their swords. They managed to cut off the heads of their opponents but even then their body continued to fight. Caught off guard his men were killed. Benjen from the stories of Old Nan recognized them as wights. Hastily ordering them to retreat he saw they are surrounded by at least dozens of wights. Cutting a path between the wights he urged his horse to go faster, he saw several wights raising along the path attacking him as their numbers started to grow. As soon as he thought he got some reprieve he heard the sound of hooves racing in his direction. Not much time later he's surrounded on all sides by wights on horseback and he recognized few of them as the men who came with him.

Not knowing anything about fighting this kind of enemy he ventured deep into the unknown territory. To his misfortune, the way he took was straight into the territory of Mance Rayder. Before he could come near the village a flaming arrow pierced his armor and he fell off his horse. He was knocked off his horse and there's a flash that blinded him temporarily before the face of his beloved sister hovered over him in concern.

"God damn-it." The apparition shouted reminding him even more of his deceased sister as sweet oblivion consumed him.

A small, slender but muscled girl gritted her teeth as her hands shivered in fright against a force her small village have no hope to defeat. But yet she shot arrows and arrows which are set aflame against the cold ones that invaded her home. Mance has ordered everyone to prepare themselves to flee. They covered their tracks very diligently only for a moronic crow to destroy all they've built.

"Fuckin' useless crows can't even do anything right." One of her arrows hit him in the chest as he collapsed on the ground. Not allowing herself to feel guilt at his death she continued to shoot arrows. But all of a sudden a bright orange flash blinded them and the crow was in the lap of a small person mayhap few namedays younger than her. And her abrupt appearance suggested that she was a sorcerer like the Horned Lord, one of the previous King-Beyond-the-Wall. And judging by the green light that the person has been pouring inside the crow, she guessed right

The sorcerer's demise is equally quick as her arrival. Without even checking for the danger around her she foolishly tried to rescue the crow. And got a spear to the heart from those cold ones. She coughed blood but continued to help the crow. Shaking her head Ygritte continued to fire arrows and to her dismay, the reinforcements have arrived on giant spiders and few on horse-back. Looking back she saw that most of the village has prepared to evacuate and her people left animal fat behind so that she and her fellow archers would provide as much time to escape as possible.

"The fuckers have us surrounded." Tormund Giantsbane bellowed his voice easily carried over the entire village. It was then the true hopelessness blossomed in her chest before it turned into determination. If she and her village are to die, they'll die taking before taking as many fuckers with them as possible. As they approached her she rubbed fat all over her and got ready to set herself ablaze as did everyone in her village. The Free folk will never be kneelers even in death and none will rise as a thrall to the Night King.

Just as she's about to set herself ablaze a bright light appeared which blinded her followed by a scorching heat. Her thick furs melted and the entirety of ice in her surroundings went straight into vapor. Surprising is that even though all of them are partially naked, they felt no cold or were damaged by heat. And on opening her eyes she saw a large beast made completely out of fire setting ablaze all the wights near her.

"It's not nice to stab a healer when they're saving a person's life." A soft and definitely feminine voice spoke as Ygritte slowly opened turned towards the speaker. Instead of two people, the mage and the crow, there are four people…. No two of them are solid illusions of the mage. The solid illusions were supporting the girl and the crow as the mage recklessly pulled out the sword that was lodged in her chest.

"You became a bit too cocky boss." The illusion supporting the girl teased as the wound knitted itself close. "Kurama-nii will never let you live this down."

"I created a barrier to keep living out as I heal uncle." The mage snarled out. "How on earth should I know Edo-Tensei exists here?"

"Boss… judging by their rotting faces I don't think they are Edo-Tensei." The clone replied. "I think puppets are more apt description." By that time both of them reached the village and Ygritte got a good look at the crow and the sorcerer.

A cute little thing she is. Bit taller than Ygritte with dark black hair and violet-tinted grey eyes. The semblance between the crow and girl was low but just enough to prove they're kin. Pleasing enough to steal except her presence made her feel like a moose before a shadow cat.

With an unspoken command, the beast roared and charged towards the remaining thralls burning them with the exception of one of them. Despite the searing heat, he was unaffected and with a small wave of a hand the beast was snuffed out.

The hope which the village gained on seeing the thralls' burn alive died immediately after that spectacle. They are in the presence of one of the White Walkers and they have no hope of beating him. By that time the girl reached her looking completely unimpressed by the way, the Other snuffed out her magic.

"Insolent Girl." The White Walker snarled as thousands of more thralls appeared around him. "You destroyed a part of the army of my King. But unlike those, I cannot be destroyed by fire and no blade can harm me. It's a small obstacle though. Your body will be good to make a commander among us. And remaining will serve as thralls."

Not bothered by the ranting of the White Walker the girl shook her head and asked. "Anyway, who's the leader of this village?" The clone asked "Boss and her uncle need to recuperate so… can we impose on your hospitality?"

At her bizarre request, all the villagers looked at each other in confusion till Mance stepped forward. "We don't have bread and salt to offer guest right and even if we have we cannot invite a crow in our midst."

"Well, the boss eliminated all those undead" flinching at the snarl of the white walker "'cept that idiot for ya. Surely that has to count for something"

"The crow was the one who lead them straight into our territory. You just cleaned up his mess." Mance replied as he hid his fear of seeing more of the undead surrounding them. "And now there are more."

This time the mage formed two beasts one completely of fire and other of lightening. The power radiating from both of them were suffocating and after a few seconds they pounced on the army of undead, the lightening one going straight for the White Walker and the fire one mercilessly burned the remaining wights into ash. The lightening one destroyed the white walker but to their dismay, he started to reform immediately.

"Troublesome." The mage groused irritably dispelling the clone supporting her. "Very well then… ask any boon from me. However difficult it might be I'll make it happen. No…" The girl shook her head. "Except asking me to bring back the dead …anything else I'll make it happen. All I need three tents for three days and any information on them you could provide for me."

Those words stopped them in their tracks. Val, a blond-haired spear-women challenged "We free folk want to go south of the wall. Can you do that sorcerer?"

There was a tense silence before the girl looked at them resolutely and without a trace of hesitation uttered a single word "Yes."

"Aella…" Her uncle's call shook her out of her reminiscence and saw him looking at her in worry. Absentmindedly tracing the place at which the spear pierced just missing her heart she shook her head and assured. "Nothing to worry about uncle. Anyway, I have a piece of bad news for you. The moment you enter the King's Landing you'll be thrown into Black Cells."

"WHAT!?" Ned Stark shouted.

A week and a half later… (Black Cells, King's Landing).

It has been four days since they came to King's Landing and just as his niece warned him beforehand, he was thrown into Black Cells. There was a tournament in King's Landing just before he arrived and just bare basics he was given before he was thrown into King's Landing is that he was charged with the attempted murder of Oberyn Martell.

Aella was kind enough to fill in the blanks. Apparently the tourney was in the celebration of Lady Daenerys Targaryen's name day. In the melee, Oberyn participated as one of the competitors and after the melee was completed, a faceless man wearing his brother's face attacked him with a broadsword once used by his brother. He disarmed him and thrust a sword into his spine whispering the words "Ned Stark sends his regards." Unable to finish him off the faceless man, taking advantage of the panicking crowds he escaped successfully. Even though Oberyn Martell escaped the Stranger's clutches he'd never ever walk again in his life.

The queen was sufficiently enraged and called for his head. Aella in Lord Bolton's form requested a week to prove his innocence. The King ignored the foul looks from his wife and good-brother agreed to it. But he's thrown into the Black Cells and it has been three days since he heard from his niece.

"Lord Stark…" A cold sharp voice spoke out revealing a man with dark greying hair with a thin smile on his face. Alliser Thorne, the Lord Commander of Goldcloaks, sneered at him as he took in his appearance before removing the shackles. "By the order of the King, you are released into the custody of Lord Roose Bolton. Don't try ta escape or the Leech Lord will have his head off."

He was led out of the cells and saw his niece waiting for him with his daughter Arya. Thorne tried to linger but one look from his niece he walked away uncomfortable and bit scared.

"You look like shit Lord Stark." The girl drawled. "Anyway, Lady Olenna Tyrell and Lord Mace Tyrell requested to dine with you at the time of your choosing. They were the ones who persuaded the King to release you into my custody."

Ned stopped any questions that arose in his mind. The first lesson his niece hammered into his head was subtlety. Any questions he wanted to ask will have to wait till they're alone. He doesn't know if there are spies in their presence and one wrong word will see his and his family's heads on the chopping block. Nodding he asked. "Have you secured our lodgings, Roose?"

"Yes my Lord. I already secured them. This way." The girl gestured and the way and a few minutes later they reached an old inn filled by men in Bolton and Stark colors. Aella selected a random room and with one single order, the room was clear and secure.

"Did you get the evidence to prove me innocent Aella?" Ned asked once the room was sealed the same way as their tent.

"Actually I have evidence even before we are in the King's Landing, uncle." The girl said mildly. "How on earth did you think I told that you'll be thrown into Black Cells a day before the crime actually happened?"

That was… "Then dammit why on earth did you let them throw me in the Black Cells?"

"Are you daft?" The girl shouted equally irritated. "I should keep up the appearance of searching for answers before showing it, uncle. Otherwise, the queen is petty enough to charge us with complacency with the crime."

That cooled his anger a bit. "So who's the bastard that dared to conspire against us?"

"Today we have four appointments uncle." The girl changed the topic. "One with Tyrells, one with Lady Ashara Martell then with Oberyn Martell and Lord Tywin Lannister asked for Arya but not either of us is called. In the lunch, with the Tyrells you and Peyton Hightower are to stand as a guard to me. I will be meeting Lady Ashara as Roose Bolton in the evening. And again you'll stand as a guard for my meeting with the Red Viper. And as far as the trail goes… there will be no trail, to begin with. Don't worry about it too much. I cannot deny Lord Tywin so I'll send Arya with a guard."

Ned wanted to ask more but knew a dismissal when he saw one. Knowing very well that his niece wouldn't reveal anything more he simply nodded.

The Northern barbarian's choice of the meeting was in one of the inns at which Littlefinger's brothels once stood. Odd as the man detests anything related to whores and except for a single bastard, who his dimwitted wife wails so much about, he's an honorable fool. A fool on whose corpse the roses of her family will grow stronger on when he dies. As her son and she are shown into the room where the soon to be dead lord is currently taking residence, she ordered the 'Left' to stand guard outside and the 'Right' to come in and sing whenever she orders so that whatever discussions they are doing will be kept secret.

When she, the puffer-fish of her son and her guard entered the chamber, the wolf Lord sat on his chair not even bothering to rise for his elders with his unsheathed ancestral Valyrian sword on his knees. She never met the Wolf Lord before but she felt as if she's in the presence of Tywin Lannister and felt in her old bones that something was wrong…very wrong with this picture. Her foolish Oaf of the son for once in his life recognized that something was off and looked at her uneasily.

"Greetings Lord Mace… and Lady Olenna. I hope you didn't have too much trouble. And sorry for the place of meeting. As all Paramount except for Dorne and Riverlands are here it is difficult to find a place for us. But for now, this is my home I guess." With unshaven face and dark clothes, the man looked more like a hooligan than Lord Paramount of the North. But the hard lines on his face and when he looked at them even though his face remained pleasant… his eyes… they looked more like hardened steel. This man unnerved her a lot. "Please have some wine." He offered and poured both of them a generous amount of Arbor Gold and just by the smell itself, Olenna was weary. The Oaf somehow bought her favorite vintage, when no one outside her family knows her preference. It is a very costly one too. And with the financial situation of the North, they cannot afford to splurge on a small bottle. She only calmed down when he poured himself some wine and drank it.

"I asked your nephew Peyton the wine you prefer Lord Mace. You're a guest whom I wronged indirectly so I'm trying to make amends with you and your nephew." The Wolf Lord shrugged. "I hope you like it. Personally I think he asked for this wine as payback for almost making him take the black. Well, I promised him to pay of 50 gold dragons yearly for my mistake. Anyway, what business you have with me?" with that her glutton of the son took a long swig of wine and she reluctantly drank it. The Wolf Lord's smile then turned predatory.

"About our business…" Her son started pompously puffing up like a puffer-fish and parroted out the words told by her. "My son Garlan Tyrell has just turned ten and eight a man grown, yet was not betrothed to anyone as we are hoping for a valuable match like Princess Daenerys Targaryen. He might never have participated in tourneys saying that he doesn't like to play war but he is an excellent knight. He is also kind, handsome, educated and has good knowledge of politics." The northern barbarian seems to understand where he's going as he nodded a bit. "But mother here seems to think your daughter Sansa was a good match. From my part ." Twisting his face to show displeasure the moron added his own words. "I don't know what value you could give from that cold dreadful place but I wanted to honor my mother's words. As an alliance with the North, I'll even reduce the price of our crops by one-third for five years."

The wolf Lord was silent for a few moments and started to laugh mirthlessly. The guards whose faces are yet to be uncovered felt uneasy as she felt but her son looked affronted and didn't saw the hostility in the eyes of their host. "Why are you laughing?"

"Well, Lady Olenna… my niece in the short time she's with me said you're intelligent and perceptive. So what do you know about the guest's rights?" Her son lost all his anger and was puzzled at the seemingly useless question. Not knowing where the barbarian is going with this she answered.

"The guest right is a sacred law of hospitality, especially in the north. When a guest, be he common-born or noble, eats the food and drinks the drink of a host's table beneath the host's roof, guest right is invoked. Bread and salt are traditional provisions. When invoked, neither the guest nor the host can harm the other for the length of the guest's stay. For either to do so would be to break a sacred covenant that is believed to invoke the wrath of the gods… both old and new. Even robber lords and wreckers are bound by the ancient laws of hospitality."

"Is that all?" this time he grinned showing off his slightly sharper canines looking more like the sigil of his house than a man. "Well, I suppose not many knew about the last part of guest right… the way the host denies a person those rights. It is by having a sword unsheathed on his lap. I called you a guest and called this my temporary home."

Olenna immediately understood the implication of those words as she discreetly signaled the 'Right' to order soldiers. But her dimwitted son looked owlishly at the Paramount of the North. "Well, it seems that your son is dimwitted as my niece says Lady Olenna. So lemme explain it clearly. In the North betrayal is frowned upon… so whenever we really want to kill the guest we simply deny them guest rights and kill them before they walked out of our home." His eyes which were silvery fog-like filled with mirth now hardened into glacial steel. "Even before you came inside this tent, I decided to kill you. Case in point the wine you drank was poisoned." Taking out a clear vial filled with amethyst crystals he downed one of them in one-shot and grimaced. "Damn the anti-dote tastes rotten."

An hour after Ned Stark's release.

"Greetings Peyton…" The Wolf Lord spoke after summoning him to his solar. "I know I shouldn't ask this of you but I need a favor from you."

The young Lord looked at a bit puzzled. Despite being released from the Night's Watch before he took his vows… he used to hold a bit of grudge towards the Paramount of North. But seeing that the man was completely sincere towards him and begged for his forgiveness in earnest… he couldn't hold it against him. The Lord Paramount of the North was truly an extremely kind and sincere person who cared for both his vassals and small folk. His care for his vassals was seen as despite being a poor region…none went hungry in North. The people are honest and faithful bunch and their Lord was a person who put their needs over the comforts of his own family. He built a grudging friendship with him, looking out for any way the Lord wanted to use him. But nothing of that sort happened and this was the first time he was asked for a favor.

"Your uncle invited me to a meeting this afternoon. He and his mother Lady Olenna are coming to dine with me. I don't know their preference of wine or food. So here is the money." He gestured towards a bag. "It has one hundred gold dragons in it. Please buy some wine they like. I don't want to insult them by serving cheap wine."

It's a fairly reasonable task so he nodded. Then the wolf Lord gave another bag. "Buy me three vials of poison along with their antidotes." This surprised him however and he started to get angry. All these days the barbarian must have pretended and is planning for the deaths of his family. Seeing the expression on his face the man continued in an amused tone. "I'm not planning to poison anyone with this Lord Peyton. In fact, I'm thinking of asking you to stand as a guard with another soldier from Boltons as a witness for me. I promise I wouldn't poison your uncle and his mother."

"Then why?" he growled out. Ned Stark simply shook his head. "You'll understand later. Anyway, I'll tell them three lies and you'll understand when. Please don't react."

Peyton then bought the most expensive Arbor Gold and few Strangler crystals with their antidotes. Ned Stark looked at him sadly and took the crystals with the antidote and asked him to place the wine on the table. After those words are spoken, he raised a finger signaling that he told the first lie. Peyton forced himself to relax but started to worry as Tyrell soldiers filled the room. And he was shocked that the wolf lord swallowed the poison without any hesitation just for a lie.

Despite the presence of more than ten soldiers, the Wolf Lord sat calmly without any worry. Either he must be a fool or suicidal.

"Take that vial…" his uncle ordered them. Lord Stark simply shook his head as they advanced upon him. "I'll give you two options. Leave this tent and live or fight and get slaughtered. Your choice." The soldiers laughed at that but Peyton in his short time he knew the Lord he knew he doesn't joke. At least not about killing. Those soldiers signed their own death warrants.

"What are you gonna do?" One of those armored knights sneered. The Bolton guard with him started to unsheathe his sword but a single gesture stopped him. "There are only three of you against ten of us…" whatever he spoke was cut off by the words "So be it…" followed by a snap of fingers.

Suddenly both men and women in the entire surrounded the room. Before any of the Tyrell banner-men could react they are forced on their knees with knives at their throats. "Well I'm feeling bit merciful today so throw them out." He ordered. The men were thrown out a few moments later. "Few of you guard them so that they won't try to bring the reinforcements."

The remaining ones held a sword at the throats of both his uncle and Lady Olenna but the wolf lord waved them off and they went back to their tasks quickly as they came in. Mace Tyrell's face turned extremely pale and he pissed himself as Ned Stark looked at him in disgust.

"Seriously... I was the one who decided on the place of meeting Lady Olenna. Do you really think I won't have soldiers of my own around me?" Shaking his head at the apparent idiocy he continued. "Any way you might be wondering why I am doing this aren't you." The Queen of thorns nodded as her son was still too out of it.

"Actually the way Prince Oberyn Martell was hurt reached me almost the same day it happened. The North you see has many enemies due to my blunt and tactless idiocy in my recent years. I almost wanted to go back but I don't want to besmirch my honor by running like a coward for a crime I am innocent of. So the only way out for me without having my head on the chopping block is to find the culprit."

"It's a difficult thing. But one of the methods my niece followed was a very big help to me. It's from Yi- Ti and is called 'Criminal Profiling.' Damned difficult method trust me that one. From the crime scene, a person has to take clues and try to learn about the personality of the criminal. It took me three days actually to narrow it down to you."

'The game was up' Lady Olenna understood smiling forlornly. "So you do know? That's why you wanted to kill us. And how on earth you deduced that it is us." More than the accusation the confirmation shocked Peyton more. So that's why Lord Ned wanted to kill his relatives. They might be very angry on his behalf but it's not worth killing a man over it.

"A few facts about Faceless Men. If they are given an assignment usually they'd try and try till they reach their target. The only way for them to stop targeting that person is the death of the man who gave them the contract. I have kept my ear to the ground about any more assassination attempts on Prince Oberyn and you know what. None… not a single reattempt was done. And when my brother's sword was stolen not a life was lost. Faceless men usually try to kill people when a contract is given because they think not delivering 'the gift' a great insult on their god. So the payment is exorbitant. It's more than ten times the usual amount if I'm not wrong.

The family is excessively rich. No small families except for Manderlys in North, Freys in Riverlands, Daynes in Dorne and Redwynes in Reach can afford that price. But I have no quarrel with any of them. That leaves only the Paramounts. Jon Arryn is my father figure so he's out along with my good-father Hoster Tully. That leaves the King, Lord Tywin Lannister, Lord Mace Tyrell, Lord Stannis Baratheon, and Prince Doran Martell. But the King doesn't bear me any ill-will but I know I have personally insulted each and every other of them someway or the other. And I cannot accuse any of them without a shred of good evidence."

"As I narrowed this list to these four members, I observed the scene again. The culprit doesn't want to stain his hands directly. A coward or a puppeteer then. He could have chosen any Lord, any other second son or any other Kingsguard. I know I've insulted many people and many have wronged me. And it'd yield the same result. The assassin didn't have to wound him that grievously. Just a shallow cut would've sufficed. But the attack was…what that word I'm looking for, ha surgical, that attack was surgical. A surgical strike that'd leave him crippled for the rest of the life. That attack was personal.

Doran Martell would never stifle his brother's freedom that way. Tywin Lannister would have directly killed Oberyn Martell if this is about refusing his daughter's hand in marriage. Stannis Baratheon never had any beef with Oberyn Martell and he's more rigid and honorable than me. That leaves your son Lady Olenna.

Your son is a father who has to bear the fact that his older son would never walk again. He has a son who was mocked behind his back for losing on his very first tourney. That son who was crippled by Oberyn Martell. He is a father who wanted the man to suffer the same way as his son. Am I wrong, Mace Tyrell?'

The real Ned Stark who is standing as a Bolton guard was shell-shocked as his niece revealed the culprit. He was actually happy when Mace Tyrell proposed a marriage between their houses. Highgarden was a beautiful place and Sansa would love it there. He heard many good things about Garlan Tyrell. But the revelation was shattering. But after learning the real reason he released Peyton Hightower and tried to make amends. Is that not enough?

"Well…anyway to be frank, I didn't even suspect you first. My beef with you was fulfilled but the evidence is very strong. You are not a person who cares much about any other person than your immediate family. And I actually was shocked and not so surprised when you offered the hand of your obviously homosexual son to the younger Hightower child. Shocking because you gave the hand of Ser Loras Tyrell in exchange given to a small land of nearly no importance instead of allowing him to go to the Kingsguard as per his wish. Even a child knew it will bring him more respect and honor in the eyes of Seven Kingdoms. And not really surprising that you don't care in future that the girl will be mocked as barren." While these words are shocking and were spoken to rouse anger, as Ned could clearly see the way Peyton Hightower clenched and unclenched his hands, the next words are even more horrifying.

"So I suspect it's not that I imprisoned your nephew you want me to be killed. It's because I released him you want my head. The land must be something valuable ain't it Lady Olenna?"

Peyton was nearly catatonic at those words "How dare you to accuse me of kinslaying?" the queen of thorns screeched. The silent wolf simply smirked. "Funny you say that Lady Tyrell. I myself didn't think of it. You…" he gestured at Peyton himself. "Please read this document..." He said giving him a scroll sealed by the personal signet of Lady Olenna Tyrell "…and summarize it for me."

The way her face went pale was damning enough but on reading that his own kin tried to have him killed was a knife to the heart for Peyton. Concealed by his helmet tears of betrayal flowed as he summarized the document. The handwriting was unmistakable. His only letter when he's at the wall was about how his sister and mother were taken care of were written in the same writing. It was his source of comfort at the wall and whenever he was feeling down he used to read them to find comfort. He started to feel faint before anger and bloodlust overtook his mind. But one look from the Paramount of North held his tongue and he simply returned to his position.

"You cannot claim that your and your son's signet rings were stolen like my brother's old sword, you dumb old crone." This time the voice was downright chilling. "To the rest of the Seven Kingdoms the North might be weak but one single order from me every faceless man in the entire world was hunted down for every contact House Tyrell and House Redwyne has given out. The Faceless men are forthcoming with the number of contracts taken when Northern men entered their temple and killed many of them. From there it is just hunting down till we get our hands on the contract. For five contracts the North ruthlessly killed more than a hundred Faceless men. It took us less than three days. And after reading them I was angry enough to butcher the entirety of House Tyrell. The order was on the tip of my tongue but I refrained for two reasons. First I don't want the children to suffer for the crimes of their parents and second I want to know why? And you know what I got all of them."

"I wanted to know why you ordered every male living Stark along with Edmure Tully to be put to death. And the deaths of Princesses Arianne, Visenya and Rhaenys with Prince Viserys. And thing is that your son answered all of them with a single proposal to my daughter." The eyes steeled further. "Shall I summarize them for you?"

Without bothering to wait for the response the Wolf Lord continued. "When I would be executed for the crime I have no hand in my foolish wife and son would call their banners and go to war with Dorne. In that war, he and my remaining heirs will be poisoned by faceless men while the Dornish too will suffer heavy causalities. When the King will try to intervene in the war his daughters will be killed by assassins. With that, the North will be in the war against the remaining of Seven Kingdoms and you'll offer Margaery as a bride to Prince Aegon. By the time the war is over all my sons will be dead, your daughter will be the Queen of Seven Kingdoms and your grandchildren through Sansa and Garlan will rule the North and maybe Riverlands." He started to clap mockingly. "Wow… a single strike and the half of Seven Kingdoms will be under your control."

"Anyway…" The Silent wolf calmed himself down. "I am neither merciful nor foolish enough to kill both of you for what might be. If so your deaths will fall on my head. I need one of you to testify that I'm not responsible for the one who will die in this very solar." He growled. "But my blood demands the death of one of you. Pulling out another amethyst crystal, he placed it on the table. "Decide for yourselves who gets to live and who'll die. One of you will die or I'll kill the rest of your family. Don't think I can't or I won't. I'm capable enough and ruthless enough. And other has to live with that death on their conscience. Now choose."

"Please take it, mother." With tears flowing down his face for the first time in his life Mace Tyrell was ready to die. "I am a bad ruler and I'll bankrupt the Reach. Please take care of the children…" whatever he was going to say was cut off when Olenna took the amethyst crystal and forced it down his throat. Her eyes steeled as she spoke "I am an old crone my son and don't have much time to live. Promise me that you'll listen to Willas' words. He's a sentimental fool but has a good head on his shoulders. As for you cold-blooded bastard…" she turned towards the wolf lord who looked at both of them apathetically. "I hope you rot in seven hells."

Calmly the wolf lord then opened the real anti-dote and swallowed it. "Well, you just poisoned your own son, old crone. Congratulations…" he spoke applauding her mockingly to their raising horror. "You're now a kinslayer. Watch him die before your own eyes." He stated her punishment. "A nasty piece of work that poison. There is no greater punishment to a mother than watching the death of her son. And I think it's more horrible for you as he'll die by your own hand. Don't leave the tent until he dies. And my threat stands. When anyone asks you I have nothing to do with his death. I promise I'll not tell your plans to anyone. And I won't be the person who'll tell the betrayal you planned for Peyton. If you try to fight me I'll wipe out your entire family. Please don't cross me again. Good day."

A half an hour after the wolf lord left the room with his companions… her son's face started to turn purple and he started coughing horrifyingly. When blood started pouring out of his orifices as he struggled to breathe and his face started to turn purple… it was then she thought. 'I did unspeakable things to protect my family. I watched them being dumb on my orders. I never lost a night's sleep over them. They were necessary and whatever I imagined necessary for safety and growth of House Tyrell I did. But this man… no, not a man he's a monster. This monster has done things even I was incapable of even imagining. And crossing this monster was my prized mistake.' She put her son's head in her lap and started running her hands through his hair, tears flowing down her withered face. 'And that mistake cost me, my son. We overreached and paid the price in blood.'

On the other side of the tent, Peyton sat with Ned and Bolton guard as they sobs of Queen of Thorns reached them. "Sorry, you have to hear that child. Being a Lord is a burden sometimes. I asked you there as I wanted you to hear what's happening. Nasty business yes but a necessary one. Are you alright though? I cannot hope to be too lenient when my family is threatened so please forgive me if you think what I did is heartless."

"I understand Lord Stark…" he bowed. "But why on earth you didn't show this to the King and be done with it. And how will you prove that you're innocent of this crime?"

"Because if this goes out… there'll be a three-way war between North, Dorne and the Reach. War… I saw enough in my life." The wolf lord slouched a bit and he seemed to gain several years. "Call me foolish but I don't want the blood to be spilled anymore. The culprits knew what will happen the next time they cross me and that's enough for me. Next time as I am this harsh they'll think thrice about crossing us. As for the trail…" he again sat straight as his features hardened "there won't be one. Do you have any questions for me?"

"Why did they want to have me killed?"

"Gold." Was his reply. "Recently just a week or so after I unjustly sentenced you to the wall, they found a gold vein near the hills of Silverhill. The estimates are that all the hills surrounding that place is full of gold and mayhap silver. It's also the point where Riverlands, Reach and Westerlands intersect. With the gold, you'll be a rich family rivaling maybe the Redwynes and due to the point of intersection trade would've flourished. Ser Loras didn't know. He's just following the orders his father gave him. I myself didn't know till I dug deep. Anyway, your mother and sister are waiting for you. I'll have the guard to escort you to them.

And once again I'm sorry for the way I treated you without learning about the total picture. For every wrong, I committed against you and your family… I know there's nothing I can do to make it right but I'll try. Any help with any problem… as long as it is within my power I'll do it. This is my promise. But before you leave, I promised you one thing. I promised you that I'll not poison your uncle or his mother." Taking out the remaining two antidotes he gave it to him. "I'm not cruel enough to make a mother watch the death of her son. Give this to them on my behalf."

"You're merciful even after what they tried to do?" Peyton asked flabbergasted.

"It didn't come to pass did it?" The wolf Lord shrugged. Giving the contract Lady Tyrell put on his head the Wolf Lord continued "I think you need this more than me. And a piece of advice. Hatred begets hatred. Death begets death. If we kill for what might be the blood will continue to stain the hands of our generations to come as the cycle of hatred continues. I think the best way to defeat any enemy is to make him my friend. Never had it failed me before. Many might think me as soft for that but…" Here Peyton saw the tightly leashed beast underneath the eyes of the kindest man he has ever known. "Fool is the man who takes my kindness as an act of weakness. Anyway…" scribbling out a letter he gave it to him. "Give this to Lady Olenna after giving that fat flower the antidote. Please hurry now he has exactly ten minutes left before the antidote too will be useless. It might be too late to make friends with him but he's cowed enough not to make a foe outta me."

The moment Peyton left the room…the room sealed itself as Ned removed his helmet and Aella reverted back to normal. "I thought you'd kill them Aella. If I'm in your place I'd have done it."

The girl sighed leaning against her chair. "Anyway, I've sent Arya to Lord Tywin just before this meeting. Ser Rodrick accompanied her. Wonder what they are talking about."

"You left my daughter alone with that old Lion…" Ned asked softly as if his niece sprouted another head. "A man who you yourself called the most dangerous man in Seven Kingdoms?"

"I promised Arya that I'll make her a strong woman worthy of respect Uncle." The girl replied softly. "And it can't be done if I'm holding her hand at every step she takes. And the old Lion is like me. He's not ruthless unless you give him a reason to be. She'll be fine."

"Anyway, I have to send a letter to Bethany Bolton. The Boltons are to host the heir for Highgarden for a few months." Before he could ask any more questions the girl cut him off. "It's time for us to meet Prince Oberyn Martell uncle. Let's go. It's rude to keep a guest waiting."

Olenna Tyrell was weeping as she held her dying son. But suddenly the Stark guard who accompanied that monster raced in and poured a flask of something into her son's throat before she could do anything. As she wanted to shout at the man she was silenced when he removed the helmet revealing the identity of the man.

"Consider the engagement between your son and my sister has broken, Lady Olenna." Peyton Hightower growled. "I administered the antidote to your son as Lord Stark didn't want a mother to watch her son dying in front of her. I'll overlook this attempt on my life as you took in my family when they are in trouble. But you are my kin no longer. Anyway. Lord Eddard asked of me to deliver you this letter." He walked out throwing it on the table.

"Lady Olenna a question…" the monster in human flesh started "between the instigator and the one who committed the offense, I want to and can punish only one of them. I did say that the North is not favorable towards a turn-cloak or a backstabber though didn't I? Go to the Godswood and see for yourself the punishment of a backstabber… and then imagine your entire family no just the fool you call your son will suffice. Just imagine him in that position next time you even think of crossing us.

After that write a letter to your grandson, Wilas Tyrell, to prepare himself to go to Dreadfort. I promised Peyton that I'll not kill either of you. And trust me the only reason that both of you are not dead. In the same way, I promise you he'll not die directly or indirectly due to any of the Northern men. Well unless you give me a reason to do so. And what you're thinking is right he will be a hostage. Please don't refuse unless you want yours and your son's head on a chopping block or my punishment. It's worse but don't take my word for it just go to Godswood and see for yourself."

Despite dread filling her heart she asked one of the soldiers who were thrown outside to escort her to Godswood.

The Godswood at the Red Keep is a beautiful place that overlooks the Blackwater Rush. It is an acre of elm, alder, and black cottonwood. Unlike the weirwoods of older Godswoods, the Red Keep's heart tree is a small tree covered in smoke berry vines and is a pleasant smelling place compared to the rest of King's Landing. It's a place where Olenna usually enjoyed it when she wanted a bit of time away from intrigues of the court. But for now, a coppery smell overwhelmed her senses and pushing aside the people who are gathered around the weirwood, she looked up and nearly vomited at the sight.

The heart tree in the place is not old as others in the Seven Kingdoms as one of the old kings Baelor the Blessed hacked down the heart tree planted by his ancestors because of his over-jealous nature. Rhaegar Targaryen planted that tree as the symbol of his love for the woman he started the war for. Not too surprising is the Queen's hatred for this place but despite all of that the place was well maintained and preserved.

But now hanging on the pale branches were the entrails and other body organs of a man which were still dripping in blood. The blood blended perfectly with the red leaves of the weirwood. To complete the eerie picture a beheaded man was kneeling in front of the tree with his ribs severed from his spine and his lungs pulled out as in form of wings. The head which was speared through on one of the branches of the tree revealed the identity of the dead man.

It was a face that was frozen in deep agony. It was a face that made Olenna Tyrell's heart stop for a moment. That was the face that proved the dominance of North's spy network. When this man out forth this plan to destroy the Stark family only three of them are in the room. Even her own usual guard was not present due to the sensitivity of what they planned. And that bloody wolf knew it.

If that's true he already knew what they are planning even before the letters were sent to the House of White and Black. So why did he pretend… that cunning son of a bitch. With that single meeting, he turned loyalty of Peyton towards him and against them. And this is a demonstration of how he could simply kill off her entire family and walk out unscathed. 'Well played Lord Stark…' she thought grudgingly. 'Well played.'

I'll not say any reasons except for an apology and sincere thanks to all who read and supported this story despite after I abandoned this. To be frank I lost all the interest in GOT or ASOIAF after seeing that final episode. And I cannot give you a fixed time for the next update. Thank you for being patient with me.

This is a rushed chapter (wrote all of this in four days) so it may not be that good. Feel free to criticize me through P.M's or comments. I'll try better for next chapter