Heads up, this chapter will be moving through three different POVs. Also, the timeline for this story is totally different from the show and the books.

Margaery and Joffrey are yet to marry but Sansa and Tyrion have. Daenerys has only recently captured Meereen, perhaps only two months have passed and she is struggling to keep peace and order.

The dragons grow much quicker here, they were as big as little horses when she took Meereen but within the month Drogon went rogue and she had to lock up Viseryon and Rhaegal.

Also, some of the armies will not be accurate to the show or the books, as such each side could have greater or less numbers than the source material.

Another thing, though they won't appear in this chapter, I am going to introduce Aegon and the Golden Company soon. My apologies to those who do not like him. Jon Snow will appear eventually as well, though surely not for a while now.

And Sansa will become capable quite early; the return of her brother will unlock something inside her.

Disclaimer: Same as previous disclaimers in previous chapters.

CHAPTER 14- Starks are Here!(I)

The mood in the room was such that few words could describe it. Perhaps the most appropriate is gloom. The atmosphere was dark and the tension was palpable.

How could it not? They had received the letter from Jason Mallister only yesterday, and the news it bore still haunted them. The implications of what he had to say were troubling, possibly disastrous. Even Tyrion could not bring himself to make a witty jest.

"Perhaps it is false; we have no reason to believe the word of this man. He remains yet a Tully loyalist, a traitor to the crown." Wheezed Grandmaster Purcell indignantly, but Tyrion paid him no heed, neither did Tywin.

"I'm afraid it is true my lords, I myself only received word just recently. Robb Stark marched a company of two thousand through Seagard before absconding with ships, no one knows to where." Varys supplied in that sweet tone of his. If Tyrion didn't know any better, he would think the man was amused.

But if he was then he was doing a splendid job to hide it, it would be unwise to show such disrespect in the presence of Tywin Lannister.

Robb Stark, it was a name that still clung on to haunt the Westerlands, one the Lannisters had done their best to stain and eventually remove from history books. Yet, now it had come back. Robb Stark had come back. Tywin's abhorrent act at the Red Wedding had only mostly worked, but not completely. The Young Wolf yet lived to haunt them once more.

"Two thousand is nothing, my lord. That is why he has fled, he knows he cannot fight us. We need not worry about some upstart northern lord. His armies are destroyed, the Riverlands are under the control of the Freys and his beloved North is in the hands of the Boltons. He is finished." Lord Mace Tyrell boasted with puffed up cheeks and chest, and Tyrion had to stop himself from rolling his eyes.

"Robb Stark never lost a single battle, he ravaged whatever opposition he faced and pillaged the Westerlands. The smallfolk loved him, they chanted his name and told stories about him. Bards composed songs about the gallant Young Wolf, riding south to free his sisters and achieve justice for his father. We had to make unsavoury alliances and plans just to get rid of him, and yet he still clung to life.

"This is a nightmare, Lord Tyrell. We have made the Young Wolf even more legendary than he was supposed to be, the smallfolk will soon be worshiping him at the alter at this point." Tyrion finally put in, and he completely ignored the glare that his sister levelled at him.

"Lions do not concern themselves with the opinions of sheep. Let the smallfolk sing and dance to whatever they want, it matters not to us how they entertain themselves." She sneered at him, as though he had said something absurd and stupid.

"Aye, that is true. But now you realize that the Lannisters have failed, don't you dear sister? We could not defeat the Young Wolf in battle and had to literally have his own men stab him in the back just to stop him. And that was not enough.

"With each battle he won, each castle he sacked, Robb Stark showed that the Lannisters are not absolute, that we are not invincible. And yet we still put him down, we had to stain ourselves just to stop him and prove our might. But now it seems even that did not work, our dark deeds did not kill the Young Wolf. His existence is not merely beneficial to the amusement of the smallfolk, it diminishes our view in the eyes of other houses as well. We are the Lions who cannot kill a mere wolf, a young wolf at that." Tyrion shot back as calmly as he could, though he did not bother to hide his own condescending tone.

"The failure of his death is not ours to bear, it is the fault of Walder Frey and Roose Bolton. It is they who could not kill the man even when they had him under their roof and unarmed and drunk. The Lannisters are still absolute. We threw Stannis Baratheon back into the sea and we destroyed Robb Stark." She argued back, and it was all he could do not to walk around the table and slap her out of her chair.

"And who gave them the idea for this? Who gave them their support and benefitted just as much as they? We defeated Stannis with the aid of the Tyrells but could not kill him. The Stormlands still refuse to accept Joffrey as one of their own and Stannis is still in the wind. No one knows where he is or what he is doing.

"And now Robb Stark has somehow managed to raise two thousand men and stole ships to sail them. He can bid his time, pillaging our coasts all the while waiting for houses to rise to his cause. Our two greatest enemies are out there and we do not know how to find them or how to stop them." Tyrion was growing tired of this conversation, so much so that he finally relented and downed his mug.

"My little birds inform me that Stark's company is made up of Freys, Westerlanders, Seagard men and bandits. It seems that he has collected numbers wherever and however he could. It is a rag tag group that could fall apart at any moment." Varys put in before Cersei could argue back again.

"Jason Mallister claims that he intended to trade his bastard son with the one we have, only to learn that the boy had discovered Robb Stark and swayed some of his father's men to his side. Olyver Frey had once been the trusted squire of Robb Stark and has now converted some of his father's men to pledge themselves to Robb Stark. The Westerlander host we left in the Riverlands for reasons yet to be determined decided that it would be better to fight alongside the Young Wolf rather than serve us.

"I don't know about you, but this all sounds like a tight group united by a powerful figure that knows how to keep them. We cannot expect Robb Stark to make the same mistakes again, we must crush him now before he gains his old strength back." Silence reigned after Tyrion's impassioned speech, every one of them clearly agreeing with him. Maybe not Mace Tyrell or Purcell or Cersei though.

"The only armies Robb Stark can raise to his side are from the North or the Riverlands. It is admirable that he managed to raise two thousand, but that is a mere whisper compared to what we have. Boltons hold the North and the Freys hold the Riverlands. He cannot and will not get any support there, and so he is cut off. Nor can he afford to hire sell swords to work for him, he is no threat." Tywin finally put in in his deep vice, capturing everyone's attention and holding it.

No one argued with him, though Tyrion himself very much wanted to.

"As long as we do our best to find him, to always have an eye on him. We underestimated the Young far too much in the past father and it cost us. Lions maw down any threat they perceive, they do not allow it to ravage their territories and threaten their bounty. We best remember that." And that was all that was said about the topic, then things had to move on. It seemed no one but Tyrion wanted to spend too much time discussing this threat, though he knew that they all worried about it. The sensible ones anyway.

"On other news, I have received reports from across the Narrow Sea. Jorah Mormont has left my service and will no longer report on the Daenerys Targaryen." Varys said.

"This was of course not troubling at all; I have others keeping an eye on the girl, but Jorah had a position that was ever beneficial."

"We need not worry about that right now either, fist we secure Westeros and establish the order and peace we deserve, then we can look out across the sea." Tywin replied calmly.

"Indeed my lord, but perhaps we might want to pay attention to the fact that she not only secured the services of the Second Sons and the fabled Unsullied, but now Ser Barristan Selmy has joined her side as well. She has used these forces to secure the city of Meereen, the people there worship her as a goddess." This finally got everyone's attention.

"How many men does she possess?" Tyrion asked.

"The Seconds Sons number three thousand, and the Unsullied fifteen, though only eight-thousand of those are battle-tested veterans, the rest are still undergoing their training. It is a powerful force, though lacking in numbers. But still, she has enough to threaten at least one of our kingdoms should she decide to sail." This was troubling news indeed for Tyrion.

"Her best place to land in would be Dragonstone, either than that I do not see her ever threatening any of the kingdoms. They would never accept her and would fight to the last man to defend themselves against a Targaryen invasion. She would deplete her numbers greatly long before engaging us. She is no threat; let her remain playing with her sandcastles." Tywin replied dismissively again, and Tyrion felt his own ire rise at his father's confidence.

It seemed that Varys was disturbed as well, for he added as though for dramatic effect:

"And her dragons of course, I have reports that the three of them grow at an alarming rate. She used them to take the city with minimal losses; they are now as big as horses and can already burn stone."

Dragons, the main reasons why Aegon Targaryen had managed to subjugate the independent kingdoms centuries back. Would Westeros be facing yet another Targaryen invasion with dragons? They barely managed to hold out against Robb Stark, how would they fair against an army with three dragons and possibly a fleet of ships?

"Dragons do not win wars Lord Varys, men do. And we have enough men to smother Daenerys Targaryen five times over. And if her dragons do grow, then we can rest assured that they might just turn on her just as likely as there are to fly her across the sea. No, we keep our forces here and we consolidate peace."

And that was as far as the topic went, before they had to move on to other things, like the wedding, laws and finances. Things that Tyrion could not bother with at the moment, he had other worries in mind.

Sansa sat on a lonely chair overlooking her room's barred window. Though she preferred to think of it as her prison cell, what else to you call a place you cannot leave unless given permission and escort? It was at least better than what her father had been given, and for that she would not moan or cry.

Oh how she missed him though, her father could always make her feel safe and protected. Whenever she had night terrors when she was young it was her father that she ran to, it was only he that could convince her to return to bed. Though sometimes he would have to stay with her in her room until she fell asleep again.

And how had she repaid his love? By betraying him, by siding with monsters over him. Right now she had an irrational envy for the time Arya spent with him while Sansa was out being wooed by Cersei and Joffrey. But there were a lot of things she had to regret in her short life, her role in her father's death would always remain as the worst of all.

She would kill herself any time, surely death was better than the torment she was forced to endure here. But her father had chosen to dishonour himself and lie, to sully his name just to keep her alive. To kill herself now would be the ultimate betrayal to him; it would mean the end of the Stark name. She could allow that.

Well, it would have meant the end of the Stark name two days ago, but now there was another.

She clutched the blanket she was sewing against her chest and willed herself not to cry. It was like the black hole that had resided over her heart was once more filling with light. She was not alone anymore, she still had family out there, someone she loved and in turn loved her unconditionally.

With their father, mother, Bran, Rickon and mostly likely Arya dead, Sansa and now Robb were the last of their kind. The pack Alpha was now left alone with the whimpering bitch who had so willingly betrayed them and had part in the destruction of their pack.

There was also Jon of course, Jon whom she had treated unfairly because her mother did too. Jon whom she missed just as much as she missed the others and would do anything to see him again, anything to hug her brothers. But did Jon care about her? Why would he, when she had been so vile to him? He was at the Wall now, secluded away from all this strife and suffering of their family, but he was still a member of the pack as well. Three remained in their pack, not two.

Oh how she hated herself, certainly more so than she hated the Lannisters.

"It will certainly do no good to cry now my lady." A soft voice said next to her. She merely turned her head and allowed a fake sweetly smile to spread her lips. Smiling felt so painful, but she would endure the pain.

"You startled me lord Tyrion." She replied to him in a prim and proper voice, the perfect picture of a high born lady. Minus the tears she would not wipe away, let them see. She did not care. Robb was out there, Robb would come and destroy them all.

"Yet you did not jump, or squeal, or scream nor startle. You hardly react to anything at all these days. Do not let them break you my lady; don't let them turn you into an empty husk. They are not worth it." Again he spoke softly to her, kindly, even sadly. He always was kind to her, always concerned. He was the only Lannister and the only man she did not loathe now that Sandor was gone.

"I don't know what you mean my lord, these are tears of joy. The Queen-mother informed me that I would be spending the day in her company tomorrow, there is no greater honour." Again her voice was proper and sweet, but she saw him wince slightly at her words.

It was a small wince, a small narrowing of his eyes and a miniscule downward curve of his lips. But she saw it, she perceived a lot these days.

"Yes, and as saddening as it is to admit, she might actually be better company than Joffrey." He replied to her an attempt at a joke, and she allowed a small giggle. Completely false of course and she knew he was not fooled, but she found she did not want to fool him. Not yet at least. Let him get comfortable, let him think he knew her well.

"The king is ever gracious and kind my lord, we could not hope for a more benevolent man to watch over us all." It was a game between the two of them now, this little dance of pointless lies and fluttery words. He wanted her to open up, to not lose herself. He did not understand that the Sansa Stark she once was had perished with her parents and siblings, she was someone else now. she just did not know who yet.

"Yes yes, would you believe that I saw His Excellency liberate a small kitten from the tortures of life just recently? The cries it made were no doubt joy from seeing its blood pool around it. How many of us can have such honour in life?" He did not bother to hide his snark and sarcasm as he spoke, this was a game but each of them played with their own rules.

"Then that kitten was in luck indeed, so many of us wish for His Majesty's mercy. Lady Margaery is a lucky woman who has been blessed by the gods." Blessed by the gods whom she no doubt wronged in some way. Now she would suffer their wrathful punishment, she would find that out soon enough.

"Such is the will of the gods, they free one lady from a life time of horrors and throw another in as a replacement. Their only kindness to this world is that they made my nephew as dumb as hair in a box." That they had of course, Sansa shuddered to think what Joffrey might be if he had inherited his grandfather's mind. Or his uncle's.

"His Majesty is a wise man beyond his years my lord husband, he has ideas that will surely live on through the history books. His name will be mentioned among other kings such as he." This was the only way she could criticise Joffrey without outright saying anything bad about him.

For the dim witted she was saying nothing but praise, but Tyrion no doubt saw right through it. As such, he finally smiled at her, seemingly pleased. He wanted her to say something against the boy king, to show that she was not completely broken. She only allowed herself to just to appease him and allow her the peace and solitude she so coveted.

She watched him leave a short time later, her husband who did not share her chambers and had never been on her sheets. The only man she did not loathe in this nest of snakes, the only person she would not enjoy watching Robb tear apart.

There was no doubt in her mind now, Robb would come for her, and he would destroy these things that called themselves highborn. For so long she had found her faith broken, her mind split between the Old Gods and the Seven, yet her heart believing in neither. But now she knew; now she understood. The Old Gods were real, and her brother was their avatar. Their champion. These southern snakes with their roses and wines and servants to fan their faces would weep when the winter came for them.

And she would do whatever she can to help him, she would be the sweet little thing whenever they wanted, but inside she was ice. No, colder than ice. Winter is coming; the Lannisters and the Tyrells are corpses who have not yet realized it.

Daenerys Stormborn sat at a large table with papers strewn around her. She always wanted them kept organized and in order, but perhaps her one great weakness was that she just could never manage to organize papers. She had people who could do all this for her of course, people who all but begged her to allow them to serve her in such a way. But what kind of queen would she be if she could not even look over papers?

There was a pattern to all the reports, a downward spiral that she detested but was struggling to solve. Meereen was proving to be the hardest of the cities to control. Most of the troubles in Yunkai and Astapor had only begun after she left, yet in Meereen trouble brewed while she still resided over the city.

There was a continued shortage of food and finances, the tax on her trades were more than what the masters had dealt with. And she did not have a steady source to support her economy now that she had become an enemy of nearly every Good Master in Essos.

And now there was more, deaths in her city. Murders of freed slaves and even her Unsullied. It was bad enough that Drogon had decided to leave the nest on his own and she had to lock up her remaining children, now she was facing the possibility of mass murders and anarchy.

Once she had been under the delusion that conquering was the easiest part of a reign, but now she knew better. It was easier to conquer than it was to rule, and that realisation disturbed her. She would not allow herself to become a mere conqueror who cannot even secure her own city. She would not become Robert Baratheon.

The Seven Kingdoms would never accept such a queen. Though her plans for Westeros were at a delay now that her dragons had proved themselves so unpredictable.

Just then, an urgent knock on her door brought her out of her musings and momentarily allowed her reprieve from the papers.

"My Queen, Barristan Selmy and Jorah Mormont have brought a shaky and exhausted man with them. Should we allow them in?" The one who asked this was her aid and best friend; Missandei. Though what the girl had been doing lounging around outside the door was beyond her.

Daenerys had allowed the woman some free time, told her to enjoy herself without sticking by Daenerys' side all the time. But it seemed that only meant going as far as outside the door for the dark skinned girl.

"Yes, please bring them in." She replied kindly, though she wanted to roll her eyes. She did not want a fanatic, she already endured that from what remained of her Khalassar.

The two Westerosi knights walked in with that deadly air they both possessed, each man obviously doing their best to avoid the gaze of the other without obviously seeming to. They did not yet like nor trust one another, something that would have to change in time though not any time soon it seemed.

Behind them walked another man, this one shorter than them, younger and his tan skin covered in sweat.

The two knights bowed their heads respectfully to her; she would not allow them to grovel before her every time they came into her presence. The new man did not have that privilege however, and he quickly fell to his knees with his head hitting the floor. Daenerys did her best not to wince at the sound.

"This man and two others came running to us Khaleessi, all three of them looked as though they had run for hours, and they all said they had urgent news to report, news that you had to hear." Jorah reported to her calmly and perhaps even smugly, his eyes did flicker over to his companion briefly before returning to her.

Ser Barristan Selmy had made his way to her side as soon as he arrived in Essos, but Jorah Mormont had been with her from the start and it was he who was closest to her. Even his revelation had done little to diminish that. None had served her as well or advised as well as he had.

"And what's so urgent that they had to report?" Her voice was pleasant, welcoming, and benevolent. She had long perfected the regal baring of a queen, and queens did not show curiosity or panic in front of their subjects no matter how they felt inside.

"Ships have been spotted entering the bay my lady, three of them. Warships, no doubt carrying armed men on-board." Barristan replied calmly. He may as well have informed her that they found a toy ship floating in the beach.

"The Masters?" She asked just as composed as they were, she would not panic. Certainly not over three warships. Her men could bloody the waters with whatever miniscule force came from that.

"At first the men thought so my lady, until they saw the sails. The ships have not yet docked; they remained just in sight but have not approached. But even from that far the pictures on the sails were easy to spot." Jorah Mormont reported vaguely, if perhaps a little peeved himself.

It was only now that Daenerys realised that both men were disturbed, though Mormont more so. It worried her more than she would ever admit.

"And? Stop being so dramatic and spit it out. What did they see on those sails?" Perhaps if it was only the four of them she might have raised her voice to show her impatience, but the exhausted man was still in their presence and she had to be the perfect queen here.

"Snarling dire-wolf heads My Queen, grey heads on a white and green background. Starks are here!"

And there you go, hope you enjoyed. Reminder, the timeline is very different from, source material.