Disclaimer: I do not own anything related to Disney, Square-Enix, Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire or anything else. They rightfully belong to their respective owners.

"Speech"

'Thoughts'

Writing/Singing

"Foreign Language/Flashback"

-Scene Shift-

Chapter 26: Down Below

Sitting behind the desk of his father's office, Robb looked over and signed through yet another document. He honestly lost track of how many he went through since his father went south to King's Landing with his sisters, Roxas and the Royal Family's retinue.

In all honesty, Robb was not entirely looking forward to the day when his father stepped down… or died, officially making him the Lord of Winterfell. The young wolf was trying to be a good lord in his father's absence, more so with his mother away for her personal investigations. He wished either of them were here, much more for both, so they can give him the guidance he needed to properly do his current duties.

All he had to settle for was Maester Luwin and Theon to help counsel him as of this moment.

Robb had been trained for this for most of his life. Yet despite all of the preparation, he didn't feel like he was ready.

For days, he's been doing his duties as acting lord; overlooking and signing documents to listen to the requests and pleas of anyone visiting in the Great Hall; envoys of other holdfasts and keeps and smallfolk alike. When he wasn't doing any of those, he would be drilling the guard and practicing his fighting prowess. And as of late, it was more of the latter.

After the King's Hunt in the Wolfswood, Robb had been training harder in order to be a better combatant against the Heartless. He wanted to be able to tap into that magical feeling once more and he didn't want to have it occur again in the heat of battle. So far, with Roxas' influence, the young wolf was making some progress.

Keyword being some.

Tapping into magic was a difficult task for the acting lord of Winterfell. It was something his family line hasn't used since around the time of his House's founding, or so the stories go. This would seem unthinkable for Robb, but he witnessed it first hand when he went up against that giant Timberwolf Heartless.

Now the young wolf has a capacity to magic, even if it was small. Roxas had provided him notes and lessons for him to use on his training prior to heading south. But those can only go so far as Robb would prefer having his friend being here in person to help guide and correct him on what he needed to do right and wrong on such a fantastical skill.

…..

…..

…..

...Things were so much simpler for him before Roxas, before the Heartless and before King Robert coming to Winterfell. Merely training with the guards and performing his normal duties as heir of Winterfell. Even having some good moments of leisure, in his own proper way.

Robb presently yearned for the days where he hardly had any worries. Much like most youth in the world.

…..

His thoughts drifted onto his younger brother for the upteenth time, making the young wolf feel several pangs of sorrow.

Bran was once energetic and spirited, fueled with an ongoing wind running through him. Now he was merely a quiet, reserved child. The young climber hardly climbed anymore, which Robb rationalized his brother scared of falling again; not that he could blame him on the traumatic moment so early in his life. Same can somewhat be said with riding horses. All that was present in Bran seemed to be a sense of yearning as he looked upon Rickon, who played with the direwolves and the other children.

It was an odd thing to witness for Robb, which made him sad even further. Bran should not be feeling that way at all at this point in his life. He should be going out and playing like a normal child should, not holding himself back as if he was limited. Bran should consider himself lucky for Roxas' intervention, for if not for the Keybearer, the young wolf pup would probably be a cripple. The only hints of this now were the phantom pains his brother had spoken of, in passing, in both of his legs, the back of his head and his lower back.

It wasn't just that, but Robb has learned that Bran has started to hear less and less of the great songs and tales, like the ones of Ser Duncan the Tall or Brandon the Builder. Those were always his favorite. Instead, he was putting more focus on the scary ones, like The Others.

"What do you know about fear?" Old Nan once said to a once young Robb Stark. "Fear is for the winter, when the snow falls a hundred feet deep. Fear is for the Long Night, when the sun hides for years and children are born and live and die all in darkness. That is the time for fear, my little lord, when the White Walkers move through the woods. And thousands of years ago, there came a night that lasted a generation. Kings shivered and died in their castles, same as the swineherds in their hovels. Women smothered children rather than seeing them starve and felt the tears freeze on their cheeks."

Say what you will about Old Nan's stories, but she always had a way of drawing in a listener rather deep into her tales. Reminiscing of the stories with such detail, as if she was there to begin with. But one would think with how old she was, Nan must've refined that trait of hers to be that of a master.

No one knew how old she was, but his father said she was called "Old Nan" even when he was a boy. Her sons and daughters had left or died, and all that remained of her blood was Hodor, or Walder as he was once called before the giant of a stablehand had suffered a brain trauma in his youth; becoming simpleminded as a result.

There was a time when he was almost convinced the sky was blue because everyone lived inside the eye of a colossal blue-eyed giant named Macomber. Maybe they all do. Maybe they don't. It's just stories to entertain the youth or to help teach those who are growing out of it.

But when thinking back to The Others, Robb couldn't stop Old Nan's voice echoing through his mind back when he was child, waiting for his father to return from the Greyjoy Rebellion.

"In that darkness, The Others came for the first time. They were cold things, dead things that hated iron and fire and the touch of the sun. And every creature with hot blood in it's veins. They swept over holdfasts and cities and kingdoms leading hosts of the slain while riding their dead horses. They hunted the maids through the frozen forests and fed their dead servants on the flesh of human children. Now these were the days before the Andals came. The Kingdoms then were the Kingdoms of the First Men who had taken the lands from the Children of the Forest. Yet here and there, the children still lived in their wooden cities and hollow hills. And the faces in the trees kept watch. As cold and death filled the earth, the Last Hero set out to seek the Children in hopes that ancient magics could win what the armies of men had lost. He set out into the dead lands with a sword, a horse, a dog and a dozen companions. For years he searched, until he despaired of finding the Children of the Forest in their secret cities. One by one, his friends died and his horse and finally even his dog. His sword froze so hard, the blade snapped when he tried to use it. The Others smelled the hot blood in him. They came silent on his trail, stalking him with packs of pale white spiders as big as hounds-"

"My lord."

Robb snapped out of his thoughts, turning to the voice which broke through Old Nan's chilling echoes. "Yes, Maester Luwin?"

"We have visitors and your presence is required."

"Who might they be?"

"A man of the Night's Watch and Tyrion Lannister, saying he has business with your brother."

The acting Lord of Winterfell nodded, rising from his father's desk. "Alright, I'll see them in the Great Hall. And fetch Bran for me, please."

Leaving at that, the maester complied to the request and left soon after.

When he made it to the Great Hall, Robb was greeted with the sight of a dozen guardsmen lining up the grey stone walls. Taking the central seat at the high table, with Theon standing not far away and Greywind sitting by his feet, the acting Lord of Winterfell looked down upon the two visitors gracing his home.

Robb's gaze first landed upon the member of the Night's Watch. At first glance, a small inquiry popped into his head as to why a member of the old order was so far down from the Wall. He clearly wasn't a deserter, making him wonder who he was. But then he remembered Uncle Benjen telling him and his siblings of some of the current, senior members of the Night's Watch.

If he remembered correctly, the man in black before him was Yoren.

Officially the man holds the title of 'Wandering Crow' but in simpler terms, Yoren is a recruiter. Going from the major Keeps and cities from the Wall all the way to King's Landing, sometimes further below the capital, carting off anyone desperate enough to escape the gallows or losing a limb for whatever crime they committed. And on rare occasions in these past decades, actually picking up willing volunteers who committed no such acts at all.

Robb's gaze then shifted onto the Dwarf of Casterly Rock, Tyrion Lannister, who soon spoke up.

"I must say I received a slightly warmer welcome on my last visit."

"Any man of the Night's Watch is welcome at Winterfell." Robb stated, earning a nod from Yoren from the proper welcome.

"Any man of the Night's Watch," Tyrion repeated, "but not I, eh, boy?"

Robb narrowed his eyes onto the dwarf. "I'm not your boy, Lannister. I'm Lord of Winterfell while my father is away."

"Then you might learn a lord's courtesy. Your bastard brother got all of your father's graces, it seems."

"Jon!" A voice gasped out.

The voice drew the attention of Robb, Tyrion and Theon. There they saw Bran walk in with Maester Luwin and Hodor following not far behind.

"So it's true," muttered the dwarf, "the boy lives and is walking. You Starks are indeed made of hard stuff."

'I hope you and your family remember that.' Was Robb's passing thought. As much as he wanted to say it out loud, he chose against it. All he did, however, was silently usher his younger brother to come closer.

"Hello Bran." Tyrion politely greeted the broken wolf.

When they were face to face, Bran can tell those Lannister eyes were not just looking at him, but were studying him, weighing him. "I am told you were quite the climber, Bran. If it wouldn't be too much trouble, can you tell me what happened?"

Before Bran could have the chance in saying anything, Maester Luwin spoke. "He has no clear memory of the event."

"Curious…"

"Why are you here?" Robb said curtly. "If you are merely asking my brother any more of your questions-"

"I have a gift for you." The dwarf said to Bran. "When I heard the news, alongside Jon, of your recovery, I drew these up for you."

Pulling out a thick rolled up piece of parchment from his cloak, Tyrion handed it to Bran. Curious, the child unfurled it and saw several sheets layered on top of each other with several well done drawings. Peering over, the resident maester took note of what they were.

"Harnesses?"

"Yes." The dwarf answered the maester. "The first one is for Bran to use with a horse."

"What purpose would that be for, my Lord?"

"Keeping young Bran here in his saddle, in case he perhaps became a cripple."

The word was like a knife, piercing not just Robb's heart but that of his brother's. "I'm not a cripple!" Bran stressed out.

"Then I'm not a dwarf." Tyrion said with a jestful tone. "My father will rejoice to hear it."

This got Theon to snort and let out a small laugh. Yet it soon ceased when Robb gave him an even look.

"And how would this be accomplished?" Luwin asked.

"You must shape the horse to the rider." Tyrion then explained. "Start with a yearling and teach it to respond to the reins and to the boy's voice if he could not use his legs anymore. He could end up as tall as any rider. After all, it's not terribly unlike my own saddles."

Bran honestly felt rather good receiving this gift from the Dwarf of House Lannister. He was rather appreciative of this. Wasn't long before the parchment was shifted when Bran gazed upon the last kind of harnesses along with some set of equipment.

"Now since learning of your miraculous recovery, which I now know to be true as I see you before me, that last one there will keep you better protected and be much safer as you climb your towers and walls again."

This made Bran a little hesitant on climbing again. His mind flashing back to that day at the Broken Tower.

When he climbed, he went everywhere. Up on the roofs and along the walls, he fed the birds. His mother was afraid that he would fall, but he knew he never would... Yet he did.

In his dreams, Bran can see himself climbing again, pulling himself up the ancient tower in order to get a closer look of the beautiful, starry sky. When he paused to look down on his progress but instead of a couple dozen feet off the ground, it was a thousand miles. He could hear the ravens cry onto him. "FLY! FLY! FLY!" Before he knew it, he was thrown off by a shadowy figure as he fell to the earth below, prior from reaching the top.

All he could scarcely remember was that there was indeed someone there, some people, as they were making noises of some kind. He was asked several times if he could remember the incident. Bran can't fully remember everything, given he's trying to force the buried memories to surface.

"Don't worry, Bran." Softly said a gentle voice in his dreams. "Don't rush it. Let it flow naturally. In time, you'll be able to tell them."

Bran trusted her over that three-eyed raven. The bird that kept forcing him to 'fly' and 'fly' over and over again.

The wolf wanted to indeed climb again. He wanted to climb and see the land like he once did. He wanted to see the sky in such a way like Roxas does. Yet that incident kept him down and scared, making him hesitant in climbing and riding again.

Seeing the unreadable expression on his brother's face, Robb was a bit puzzled. ""Is this some kind of trick? Why do you want to help him?"

"I have a tender spot in my heart for cripples, bastards and broken things."

Robb opened his mouth to speak once more when his little brother beat him to it. "Will I indeed be safer with these?" He asked softly.

Tyrion merely smiled at the broken wolf before him. "You will. Far better than with just that climbing powder and that natural skill of yours."

Bran smiled at the dwarf. "Thank you."

Robb mewled over what went on before him and remembered his mother's distrust of the Lannisters. The acting Lord of Winterfell had to smack himself in thinking he should not judge every one of them harshly. Tyrion is an odd one, no doubt about it, but it seems he doesn't mean anyone harm.

He heard the stories of the dwarf, being a lecherous horrible monster. Part of it is indeed true, but what he witnessed was a genuine sincerity.

Robb soon released a tired sigh. "Forgive me, Lord Tyrion. You've done my brother a kindness. The hospitality of Winterfell is yours."

Tyrion merely brushed him off. "Spare me of your false courtesies, Lord Stark. There's a brothel outside your walls. There I'll find a bed, and both of us can sleep easier." Before making it out of the Great Hall, he spoke one last thing to the two Stark boys. "By the way, Jon says hello, misses you both, wishes you both luck and will visit when he can. And he's doing quite well, if you are wondering." The dwarf then turned to the Night's Watch member. "Yoren, we go south at daybreak. You will find me on the road, no doubt."

The Night's Watch recruiter merely nodded, seeing the Lannister head on out.

The acting Lord of Winterfell felt awkward at that moment, but for now he had to push it aside so he may properly address Yoren of the Black Brotherhood. "I'll have a room set up for you, Yoren." The Night's Watch member looked back onto him. "You'll find no lack of hot water to help wash the dust off the road. Hopefully you can honor us by seating with us for supper tonight."

"That's mighty kind of you, Lord Stark." Said Yoren, bowing slightly and went to the stables to acquire his belongings.

When the Night's Watch member left the Great Hall, an old man entered as he requested some help for his village.

Seeing the look Theon wore on his face, he had him excused as they probably knew what exactly the problem was to begin with. Both of them knew "the same old tune" as Roxas called it. As much as the Stark would want to join the Greyjoy in leaving the hall, the acting Lord had to stay, do his duty and listen to the man's pleas for help against the Heartless.

Making it out of the Great Hall, Theon got a bit of fresh, cold air. When he did, he spotted Tyrion Lannister -on horseback- with several other Lannister guards who stuck with him on his journey up the Wall and back.

Coming up to the dwarf, Theon spoke in his usual manner. "Couldn't resist some northern ass? If you like redheads, ask for Ros."

Tyrion merely smirked, already planning on seeing said whore prior to this conversation. "Come to see me off, Greyjoy? Kind of you. Your master doesn't seem to like Lannisters."

"He's not my master." Corrected the Greyjoy.

"No, of course not. Sorry about that. Tell me, what happened here? Where is Lady Stark? Why didn't she receive me?"

"She wasn't feeling well." He lied.

It was something he, Robb and Luwin agreed upon as an excuse for her absence for anyone coming by to Winterfell.

"She's not in Winterfell, is she?" Tyrion noted right away. "Where is she?"

"My lady's whereabouts-"

"My lady?" Chuckled the dwarf. "The loyalty to your captors is charming." Theon gritted his teeth as the Lannister continued. "Tell me, how do you think Balon Greyjoy would feel if he could see his only surviving son turned lackey." Tyrion heard nothing from the 'captive'. "I still remember my father's fleet burning at Lannisport. I believe your uncles Victarion and Euron were responsible."

At the mention of his second uncle, Theon stiffened. There have been terrible things spoken about him, but knowing the real ones go even further.

From what Theon heard through small bits of rumors and information for nearly a decade, Euron was banished from the Iron Islands sometime after the failed Greyjoy Rebellion due to him seducing or raping uncle Victarion's salt wife. Since then, The Silence -Euron's signature flagship- has sailed, pillaged and raped all over the known world in every port from Ibben to Asshai. Being exiled from their homeland for so long no doubt made Euron a stranger, even if he still follows their Old Ways; given what Theon had heard.

For Theon, he is quite weary of Euron; even to this day and so off from sea. As he grew up back in the Iron Islands, he heard some disturbing stories about his uncle. Tormenting his three brothers from childhood to even adulthood, being quite cruel to even his allies, even cutting out the tongues of his crewmen and thralls; hence where The Silence got its name.

Despite knowing the tales, Theon knows there's something evil within his uncle, even if he hides it well through his charismatic charm. If comparing as to who, or rather what, Theon would consider dying against; he would rather have the Heartless take him over Euron any day.

Swallowing the nervous, disgustment of his uncle, Theon wore a facade-like smile. "It must have been a pretty sight."

"Nothing prettier than watching sailors burn alive. Shame how it all turned out."

"We were outnumbered ten to one-"

"A stupid rebellion then." Tyrion interrupted Theon's argument. "I suppose your father saw to that when your brothers died in battle. And now here you are, your enemies 'squire'."

The young Kraken had nothing good to fight back on that one.

Nine years ago, his lord father -Balon Greyjoy- attempted to break away from the rest of Westeros and become independent once again in order to properly go back to their Old Ways. It was through the Burning of Lannisport -being entirely uncle Euron's idea- did spark the Greyjoy Rebellion, which soon led to their undoing in more ways than one; even if it was considered the only great accomplishment in their attempt for independence. A foolish, wasteful war that resulted in the deaths of Theon's older brothers, resulting in Asha -his only sister and sibling- being left behind while he himself was taken to become Ned Stark's ward and "guest".

"You best be careful, Imp." Theon said evenly, controlling the anger inside of him.

"I've offended you." Tyrion said with a small hint of a smirk. "Forgive me, it's been a rough journey back from the Wall. Anyways, don't worry, I'm a constant disappointment to my own father and I've learned to live with it."

Suddenly, Theon saw something coming towards him in the air. He reacted and caught it. Opening his palm, he saw it was a gold dragon, making him realize Tyrion just gave it to him.

"Your next tumble with Ros is on me." Said the Imp, motioning his steed to move out of Winterfell's courtyard. "I'll try not to wear her out."

When the Dwarf of House Lannister left with his guards, Theon could only look on as he felt the gold dragon coin in his grasp. Some feelings he buried over the years were slowly surfacing like a fish coming out of the ocean. There were things he tried to ignore and move on with his life, but some reminders are hard to keep down.

For now, Theon wanted nothing more but to vent his frustrations somehow. Perhaps he'll indeed visit Ros at some point and tire himself through her. Until then, he'll just have to settle with joining the patrols in taking care of the Heartless.

-Vaes Dothrak-

After what felt like forever, the khalasaar train of Khal Drogo had finally made it to their destination with green meadows stretching far and wide.

Between the Free Cities and the Bones, between the Shivering Sea and Slaver's Bay, spreads the Dothraki Sea. Named not for its waters but for how freely its conquerors roam upon it. A traveler on the Dothraki Sea will find few villages and no farms. Because the Dothraki view it as a sin to cut into their Mother Earth with plows and shovels. And the Dothraki know only one punishment.

The closest the Dothraki's approach to civilization is Vaes Dothrak. Though to outsiders, it doesn't look like a city. There are no walls, because the Dothraki believe only cowards hide behind them, instead of facing an enemy blade in hand. But the Dothraki couldn't do that here either. Within the bounds of the city, no one, not even the mightiest khal, may carry a drawn blade, by order of the priestesses of the Dosh khaleen. Not that any enemy would be foolish enough to attack the sacred city of the Dothraki in the first place.

Now it honestly didn't exactly feel that long if Xion were honest. They had been traveling from Pentos all the way to Vaes Dothrak on the other side of the Dothraki Sea in a little over two months. But with the constant nagging and whining from Viserys made it seem double that amount.

The first visible sign of seeing the city were the two giant bronze stallions rearing over the entry pathway, with their hooves meeting in the air to form an arch; creating the famous Horse Gate.

The moment Khal Drogo and his trusted bloodriders passed through said gate, they roared and cheered, snapping the reins of their horses to gallop across the dirt. This left the rest of the train behind and looked onward.

"They are really excited." Xion commented as she and the others had their horses calmly trot along the dirt path.

"For a pile of mud?" Viserys scoffed in utter distaste. "Mud, shit and twigs… Best these savages can do."

"They are my people now." Reminded his sister, who looked rather affronted. "You shouldn't call them savages."

It had taken much pleading and all the pillow tricks Doreah had taught her prior in order to help convince her husband to allow Viserys to rejoin them at the head of the column. And it was after the day when he was forced to walk along the train -instead of on horseback and in the back- Drogo had offered her brother a place in the cart. Viserys had accepted, not knowing he was being mocked. For the carts were for eunuchs, cripples, women giving birth, the very young and the very old.

"I'll call them what I like, because they're my people. This is my army. Khal Drogo is marching the wrong way with my army." Viserys said back with a venomous fury.

'So you say.' Thought No. i, rolling her eyes at the Beggar Prince. 'Didn't he bother to appreciate the gate, let alone look at it?'

From what the former puppet knows, Drogo has no interest at all in ships, despite the "deal" he made with Viserys. He would've -and stressing it out here- honored it if the Targaryen prince wasn't so damn annoying nearly every waking moment.

When the train was passing through the Godsway, the two female teens gazed upon the many sacred idols of the cities and peoples the Dothraki dragged back here. Along one side, stone gods looked down upon them from cracked thrones with chipped and stained faces with their names lost to time.

From across the road, monsters made of varied earth watched them pass next. Black iron dragons with jewels for eyes, roaring griffins, manticores with barbed tails poised to strike and other terrible beasts from every corner of Essos.

Gazing upon each of them a little more, Xion felt there seemed to be a lingering gaze settled upon her and the Targaryen siblings; as if judging them as it's the only thing they can do now. But there was nothing to fear. If these representations of higher powers had any strength remaining, they would never have ended here.

For the briefest of moments, however, Xion somewhat wished these higher powers could smite Viserys where he presently rode so everyone wouldn't deal with his annoyance anymore.

"If my brother was given an army of Dothraki, could he conquer the Seven Kingdoms?" Dany asked Jorah.

"The Dothraki have never crossed the Narrow Sea." The Mormont responded. "They fear any water their horses can't drink."

"But if they did?"

Jorah was silent for a very brief moment. "King Robert is foolish enough to meet them in open battle, but the men advising him are different."

"And do you know these men?" Xion inquired.

The Westerosi sighed. "I fought beside them once, long ago. Now Ned Stark wants my head. He drove me from my land."

"You sold slaves." Dany stated, knowing this detail due to Xion informing her of this a while back. Yet she didn't know the whole tale.

"Aye." Jorah said in confirmation.

"Why?"

"I had no money and an expensive wife."

Dany raised a delicate eyebrow at that. "And where is she now?"

"In another place, with another man."

Xion frowned at the implications of what Mormont said, finally putting several pieces together of the mystery of the Westerosi knight.

Given the time they've traveled together, Xion learned Jorah was an honorable man. Despite his faults, he kept his vows and does what he can to keep them true.

His wife -sorry, ex-wife- had to at least live through a life of luxury prior to their marriage. Once going through their union, said wife ultimately learned of the current riches of House Mormont and was not too pleased by it. One could overlook Jorah's wealth and merely appreciate the amount of love he wanted to give to her, yet that wasn't enough for her.

This ended up forcing the Westerosi knight to catch and sell poachers on his land into slavery so he can sate his former wife's expensive appetite. And no doubt after their exile, she left him for someone better who can provide her with everything she could ever want; leaving Jorah to become the man he is today.

Xion could only feel sorry and feel pity for him. Hopefully things will turn out better as he keeps his vows with Dany.

-The Iron Throne Room, The Red Keep-

Inside of the throne room, Septa Mordane walked beside Sansa as the elder woman was continuing on with her lessons for the day. Lady would've been by the Stark girl's side, but was requested by Mordane to be kept in her quarters for the time being.

As much as Sansa wanted Lady to be with her, it was starting to get a little complicated as of late; due to the fact her direwolf was starting to get a bit bigger now. Lady was starting to make a few people weary in her presence, making Sansa to try to settle things down that her loyal companion is harmless.

Sad to say, others don't see it that way.

Gazing upon the infamous Iron Throne, Septa Mordane informed Sansa of a crucial detail that'll come into her life. "Someday your husband will sit there and you will sit by his side. And one day, before too long, you will present your son to the court. All the lords of Westeros will gather here to see the little prince-"

"What if I have a girl?" Sansa questioned.

"Gods be good, you'll have boys and girls and plenty of them."

For the briefest of moments, Sansa pictured a lovely scene of her having a few children to call her own. Lovingly calling her mother as they wanted to play with both her and their father. While they would have mixtures of blonde and red hair, possibly even some brown into the mix, each of them would have either her eyes or her loving husbands. Of course she yearned for those eyes to be a nice shade of warm blue… instead of green.

Shoving those thoughts aside, Sansa asked something that had been on her mind for some time now. "What if I only have girls?"

"I wouldn't worry about that." Mordane said reassuringly.

"Jeyne Poole's mother had five children and Prince Oberyn has eight, all of them girls." Sansa stated.

"...Yes, but it's highly unlikely-"

"But what if?"

The Septa sighed, figuring her charge had to at least be curious; given her coming situation. This wasn't the first time such a situation occurred, even if it was indeed complicated. Several Lords and Ladies throughout Westeros had to deal with such a problem.

"Well, if you only had girls, I suppose the throne would soon pass onto Prince Tommen's children."

"And everyone would hate me." Finished the Stark girl.

Mordane turned to her charge and spoke in a reassuring manner. "Nobody could ever hate you."

"Joffrey does." Sansa said, tightening her fists from under her sleeves.

After the incident at the Red Ford, she realized Joffrey wasn't the kind of person to forgive and forget easily. And the humiliation of having been confronted on the trial that particular evening no doubt hurt his pride badly, on top of not obtaining Roxas' Keyblade like he so desired.

So in reality, Joffrey not only hated her, but her sister, her direwolf and her crush.

The older woman gasped at the proclamation. "Nonsense. Why would you say such a thing? That business with the wolves-"

"Please shut up about it." Sansa interrupted rudely, to which Mordane promptly did as ordered.

Sansa could practically hear her mother scolding at her for her recent action. Septa Mordane is just trying to do her duty and teach her what she needed to learn.

Yet all the times Mordane had praised her and looked down on Arya for not fitting with the norm had flashed in her mind. Sansa made a promise with her mother to be kind and protect her sister like what an older sibling should do. With Mordane's past actions, it made her think the old woman is not exactly a good person to take lessons from anymore.

A replacement would be a good start.

Carefully not wanting to overstep her boundaries, Mordane decided to change the topic of their conversation. Deigning to continue their previous lesson and the reason why she brought her charge into the throne room into the first place.

"Do you remember your lessons, Sansa?" Mordane asked. "Who built the Iron Throne?"

"Aegon the Conqueror." Sansa said quickly.

"And who built the Red Keep?"

"Maegor the Cruel."

"And how many years did it take to build-"

"My grandfather and uncle were murdered here, weren't they?" Sansa interjected and Mordane was silent for a moment or two.

"...They were killed on the orders of King Aerys the Second, yes."

"The Mad King."

"Commonly known as the Mad King." Corrected the older woman.

"Why were they killed?"

The Septa sighed yet again. "Sansa, you don't need to know this."

"And why not?" The pair heard a voice coming from behind. Turning around, they saw Arianne standing not far away from them. "She deserves every right to know that part of her family history."

"Princess." Sansa said out of respect as both she and Septa Mordane bowed their heads.

The heir to Dorne merely smiled at the Stark girl. "No need to do that, Sansa. Like I've told you several times, we're friends. We can drop the formalities."

Sansa chuckled a little upon the reminder. Settling down, she asked a quick, curious question. "Why'd you come here, Arianne?"

"Wanted to finally see the one throne which practically rules the continent, my dear friend." Was the Dornish girls' response. "And I dare say, it has its own unique appeal; ugly yet desirable."

Once more, Sansa chuckled as she was slowly understanding a bit of her friend's kind of humor after spending time with each other ever since her family's arrival.

"Forgive me if I disturbed you."

The septa was about to speak when Sansa quickly cut her off. "You didn't." Soon enough, the Stark girl quickly remembered what her friend said moments prior. "Arianne, do you know what happened here?"

The Dornish princess breathed a little as her gaze shifted away from the Northerner onto the Iron Throne; but more accurately, a peculiar spot on the floor some feet away from the very steps. "I very much do." She replied.

"How could you know?" Mordane asked. "You weren't-"

"You forget that my family suffered just as much as hers." Arianne said evenly with an undertone of sharp coldness. "The occurrences of both of our Houses happened in this very room."

Mordane kept quiet, not wanting to anger the heir to the Dornish lands.

Sansa, meanwhile, took this moment to ask her friend the very delicate question. "Why were my grandfather and uncle killed?"

"You sure you want to know?" Arianne asked Sansa, who seemed unsure.

Judging from the tone in which the princess had asked, it was clear that this wasn't a topic that was going to be pleasant.

Then again, her uncle and grandfather perished within these walls. They were the family she never got to know personally.

And she has a right to at least hear their story.

"...Yes."

The topic in question was something that's been muddled over the years with no exact, clear answer. Sansa didn't know if she could ever ask her parents, her uncle or anyone related to them when she was younger. She was honestly scared of what she might learn. But now that she was older, she wanted to at least know the truth.

"Did your father at least say anything about your aunt Lyanna?"

"A little bit. But he never really talked about her."

"No doubt her being a very painful memory for him." Arianne muttered out. "I can't argue with that… It was years ago, during the last year of the Mad King's rule when Prince Rhaegar kidnapped your aunt and dishonored mine. Your uncle Brandon rushed here with a handful of his closest friends, demanding her return; but King Aerys had Brandon arrested for treason while his companions were killed on the spot. Your grandfather, Rickard, then came here in hopes of clearing up the mess, but was arrested as well."

"What happened next?"

"Sansa, I don't think-"

"Your grandfather demanded a Trial by Combat so that both he and your uncle can be set free." Arianne interrupted the old Septa. "Aerys accepted… but made it extremely one sided for it to win in his favor."

Sansa was hesitant to ask what Arianne meant by that, but she pushed through. The Lady Wolf requested to know. She wanted to hear it to the very end.

"What did you mean by that?"

The Dornish princess folded her arms, using her hands to clutch the limbs rather tightly. "Aerys had your grandfather suspended from the rafters of this very room while pyromancers lit a blazing batch of wildfire beneath him. As he burned, your uncle was brought in here with a cord wrapped around his neck, attached to a strangulation device. The Mad King told Brandon his father was a dead man, but there was a chance to save him with a longsword placed on the floor just out of your uncle's reach. The more and more he struggled to reach it, the more the cord tightened around his throat. In the end, your uncle strangled himself trying to free his father, who was roasted alive in his own armor. With this on top of your aunt's kidnapping, the sparks of Robert's Rebellion were ignited."

Learning of this story in her youth scared her immensely, more so when it came from her Great Uncle's mouth when recounting the event very vividly. It gave her nightmares for a while as a result.

As a member of Aerys' Kingsguard, Lewyn was forced to witness people being burned in the throne room quite often. It made her grunkle truly sick to his stomach, practically dying more and more each time. He wanted to act and save the innocent people being burned, but his oaths had forced him to comply with the Mad Targaryen's orders.

If he did act, then he would've died. If he died, her grunkle Lewyn would've failed in his promise in protecting her aunt Ellia and her children.

Sansa's hands fiddled around with the cuffs of her dress now, feeling really uneasy from what she heard. "Why didn't my father tell me?"

"Like I said before, it's a painful memory for him and a difficult topic to get into; especially with how they died. Believe you should talk to him about it someday on why he kept this from you and no doubt most of your family."

Sansa nodded, feeling like that should be the right thing to do. But soon enough, the uneasy feeling inside of her didn't want to leave; given what else she remembered. "And how… how is your family…"

"Unlike your grandfather and uncle's death happening here in this very chamber, my aunt and my cousins were brought here after their demise."

The Stark girl swallowed a lump in her throat soon after, realizing what the princess meant. "Arianne… I'm-I'm sorry…"

"I know, Sansa. I know." Arianne's grim mood slowly shifted, adopting a small strained smile. "Might I suggest we leave this dreadful room and perhaps walk through the gardens to help clear our heads." Breathing in a bit in order to calm herself down, Sansa nodded. "Splendid!"

Looping her arm around her friend's, the Dornish princess led the Northerner out of the Throne Room. The septa was about to follow and say something when Arianne looked back and gave her a cold stare. Mordane stiffened upon receiving such a look before realizing she was not going to be welcomed anymore whenever the Heir to Dorne was ever around.

-Small Council Chamber-

Running his hand through his hair and over his brow, Ned could feel some sweat coming onto his palm and fingers. Some of the Southern heat was adding onto the uncomfortableness he was feeling at the present time. For the Warden of the North was tired, all so very tired.

Standing before him, Roxas, Cloud and the rest of the Small Council was a bald man in golden chainmail armor with a graying beard by the name of Janos Slynt; commander of the City Watch. And presently, they were hearing some concerns the man had to say to them.

"-It's the Hand's tournament that's causing all this trouble, my Lords."

"The King's tournament." Ned corrected. "I assure you the Hand wants no part of it."

The tourney in his honor was drawing closer and closer by the day. And by his account, there were still participants from other Noble Houses arriving to the capital who wished to take part in the illustrious event.

While Ned reached for a cup of wine to quench his thirst, Janos continued speaking. "Call it what you will, Lord Stark Ser, the city is packed with people and more flooding every day. Last night we had a tavern riot, a brothel fire, three stabbings, a drunken horse race down the Street of Sisters and dozens upon dozens of Heartless skirmishes spread all over from Flea Bottom to the Mud Gate."

At the mention of the last detail, both Cloud and Roxas had their own means of releasing their frustrations. The mercenary merely exhaled a small tired sigh, rubbing his eyes. The Keybearer, however, was a bit more vocal with his groan.

Last night was honestly not great at all. It was quite the experience to deal with so many mishaps occurring all in one evening. The mundane was a bit more manageable, but when the Heartless kept popping up, chaos escalated with the masses. More so with the fact that an unknown total amount of smallfolk and city watch members were taken by the Heartless.

When hearing the two blondes' responses, most of the Small Council gave them sympathetic looks. Baelish, however, had to suppress the corner of his lips twitching upwards.

"Dreadful. Truly dreadful." Varys remarked from his seat as Pycelle nodded in agreement while patting his sweating forehead with a handkerchief.

Renly, meanwhile, made his own opinion known. "If you can't keep the King's peace, perhaps the City Watch should be commanded by someone who can."

The Master of Laws already had a few people in mind and two of those candidates were already present in the chamber. Another candidate would be arriving with most of his family in the next day or so.

Each of them were good men who knew what they were doing. With the right training and guidance, they'll be absolutely perfect for the position.

Being professional and not responding to Renly's jab at him, Slynt continued. "I need more men. They are spread too thin."

With his mouth quenched, Ned quickly spoke. "You'll get fifty. Lord Baelish will see it paid for."

Littlefinger gazed up from his parchment with a questioning look. "I will?"

"You found forty thousand for the champion's purse and was able to cover the rest with the entry fees; you can find money to keep the peace." Ned looked away from the Master of Coin before gazing back at the City Watch commander. "I'll also give you twenty of my household guards till the crowds have disbursed."

"If we ask nicely, Oberyn could spare some of his own men." Roxas said aloud.

"He does have a good amount lying around." Cloud said evenly. "And here's an idea, Slynt; instead of having all these guards spread evenly throughout the city, focus on having the majority of them stationed in the areas where the incidents take place the most."

This was something both he and his friends had to deal with once taking back their home World, Radiant Garden. The majority of them already had a good amount of experience when handling Traverse Town when the Worlds were being taken by the Heartless.

At the present moment, Cloud somewhat wished this World was more technological advanced so, if by chance, Cid could install the Claymore Defense System to help deal with the Heartless. Unfortunately, this World has never bothered progressing out of their stagnant state; making such an idea wasted.

"It would help control the crime rate better." Roxas added in. "Not so much with the Heartless, but hey, it's a start."

Ned nodded as those were good ideas.

Slynt looked quite relieved upon hearing all of this. "Thank you. They'll be put to good use." He said, bowing before he left.

"The sooner this is over, the better." Said the Warden, taking another sip of wine.

"The realm prospers from such events, my Lord." Said the spymaster. "They give the great a chance at glory, and the lowly a respite from their woes."

Cloud didn't want to say it aloud, but Varys did make a good, fair point. It was a means of some people being lucky enough to get out of the ghettos and have a better life… if they didn't waste all of their earnings.

"And every inn in the city is full and the whores are walking bow-legged." Baelish added with a smirk, which Ned and the two blonde warriors could barely contain their disgust in varying degrees.

Honestly the man was too much. Nearly every single god damned smart-ass comment coming out of his mouth usually revolved around the topic of whores in some shape or form.

"Well I'm sure the tourney puts coins in many a pocket."

Baelish merely hummed at the Hand's comment.

"Now onto our next agenda." Ned started off. "Roxas, Cloud."

The mentioned blondes put their attention towards the Hand of the King as he addressed them.

"Ah yes, I was wondering when you'd bring up their presence at this meeting today." Renly pointed out.

Neither of the Heartless specialists had taken part of the Small Council meetings ever since they first came with Ned Stark. Their first time was a formality and introducing them to the Council members. And both didn't come into the others after that.

So seeing their presence at this meeting today left Renly, along with his other councillors, rather curious on why the Hand demanded their presence here of all places.

"What is it you need, Ned?" Asked the Keybearer.

Ned looked at Roxas for a brief moment before gazing at the rest of the council members. "As you may know, this city has had a problem which hasn't been addressed and taken care of for years. Ever present and been growing ever steady."

"Which is?" Baelish inquired.

"Our sewer system."

The other occupants in the room merely looked at the Hand with a very curious glance.

"And why are you bringing this up now of all times?" Asked the Master of Laws.

"I can no longer stand seeing the capital in such a state with its populace reflecting it as such. And a part of it pertains to the sanitation it's suffering with the plumbing and sewage system contributing a large portion of it. The water hardly flows and when it does, it's not sanitary and making the small folk sick due to the waste not flowing to the sea properly and smoothly."

Ned knew of this problem for years, more so after coming to the capital during the Sack of King's Landing. After his first official day as Hand, the Warden of the North sent out his men to survey the city and report back to him on how bad it's present state truly was. Suffice to say, he was outright appalled.

"Quite understandable, my Lord." Said the Grand Maester. "The drains and pipes have not been replaced and cleaned out in years. Surprised this hasn't been addressed sooner."

"The smell has grown worse with each passing year." Varys commented. It's pretty much a contributing reason as to why he wears perfumes all the time. He would rather smell such scents rather than what the city is emanating.

"But have we got the material, the coin to do such a thing?" Baelish questioned with a hint of a smile.

"In fact we do."

This comment coming from the Stark's mouth surprised most of the council members.

"I can probably understand the materials, but the coin?" Said Littlefinger. "How?"

"Because Lord Stark went to the Iron Bank and requested a loan personally." Varys revealed with a smile.

Once again, the other council members were surprised by this bit of information.

Ned looked at the Master of Whispers with a small glare, but he figured the spymaster would've figured this out prior to this meeting. And it seemed Varys was enjoying the reactions of the other council members quite well, more so with Baelish.

"A Stark asking the Titans for money?" Renly said appallingly. "I never thought I'd ever see the day."

"Kings Landing can do that to you." Ned said with a tired tone.

Ned honestly wasn't going to consider doing this project until more of his problems were taken care of. And the biggest one was the Crown's debt owed to both Tywin Lannister and to the Iron Bank. Luckily for him, he had to thank Roxas once again for "saving the day".

The Hand felt like he was dreaming when the Keybearer told him the debt owed to the Iron Bank was no longer an issue. He thought of it as a jest, but saw Roxas was not doing such a thing at all. The last thing Roxas said was how he was gonna need a lot of Heartless if he were to ever reach that amount again.

Almost drank himself to unconsciousness when hearing the truth from the Iron Bank manager, Tycho Nestoris, for confirmation.

After that particular meeting, Ned went into planning to get the sewage problem finally taken care of. He combed through the maps and parchments pertaining to said system in order to plan everything out. Once done, he set up a meeting with Tycho Nestoris in order to get a proper loan from them to see this project come to fruition.

"Asides from the… startling revelation. Why does this concern Strife and Roxas?" Baelish questioned the Lord Hand.

"Simple, my Lords." Ned stated. "When I had instructed the sewers to be cleaned out and restructured to better serve the city, the workers returned with startling reports of the Heartless being present."

"The Heartless are down in the sewer systems?" Pycelle asked in surprise.

"It shouldn't really come as a surprise." Renly said. "They are filthy creatures that harm the innocent. It only makes sense they would make their home in the bottom of society." The Master of Laws jested.

"They have shown up in the most random of places." Cloud pointed out.

"Anyways, I need Roxas and Cloud to help take care of the Heartless down there so the workers can resume their assignment. After all, would you all enjoy not smelling the foul odor anymore in your lifetime?"

There were no signs nor sounds of disagreement coming from the entirety of the Small Council, making Ned nod a moment later.

"Now Roxas, Cloud, I have requested a few people to join you on your task." Ned said, earning a few questioning looks.

"And why's that? Don't you trust us?" Said Roxas.

"We can handle this ourselves, you know." Cloud said sternly.

"I do know, but this is a matter similar to Winterfell and the North." Ned clarified. "I feel there needs to be more people experienced with taking care of the Heartless. This entire city cannot solely rely on you two, that would be asking you both far too much considering the amount of responsibilities the both of you already have. Aside from most of my household guards, there aren't many people within King's Landing that have any ideas on how to handle a Heartless situation."

The two blondes understood the man's reasoning, accepting the compelling argument.

For Cloud, it made him think of a time back in his youth.

Prior to Radiant Gardens becoming a cesspool of Heartless, and was rebranded Hollow Bastion for a time, there was a guardian force keeping their World safe called PSICOM, short for Public Safety and Intelligence Command. It was mostly focused in taking care of the extremely dangerous wildlife their World originally had on top of any civil unrest and disturbances.

That started to change nearly twelve years ago when the Unversed arrived and began causing havoc. Members of PSICOM worked hard in taking them down and keeping everything under control. After the Unversed no longer showed up, everything seemed like it was going back to normal.

Once again, problems arose some years later when people were disappearing left and right, both citizens and PSICOM members alike. It was later revealed that a far more dangerous threat emerged in the form of Heartless, all due to the actions of the fake Ansem -i.e. the real Ansem's apprentice, Xehanort- with his dangerous and unorthodox experiments.

As of right now, the Radiant Gardens Restoration Committee is practically PSICOM's shadow as they're trying to rebuild their numbers and strength in hopes the downfall of their world doesn't happen ever again.

"So where are these people joining us?" Cloud inquired.

"I'll introduce them to you soon after this meeting in my office." Ned assured. "These are men I have known for some time and have seen them fight. I believe they will be able to adapt well and work with you both."

"And why aren't they brought here for this meeting as well?"

Ned sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Because one of them is currently having a previous engagement with Robert as we speak. I insisted he be present, but Robert overthrew me on the matter."

"...And the reason being?..."

"He didn't want to have either his drinking or whoring session -probably both- interrupted." Renly brought up before Ned had the chance to answer.

Cloud openly frowned at the comment. He wasn't really up for dealing with drunks. But Ned has proven to be a man of his word.

He'd rather wait and reserve judgement for himself upon meeting this particular fellow when the time comes.

"And how would you know?" Cloud sternly asked the Master of Laws.

"If I know that man Ned's speaking of, then it's sadly understandable."

"I don't get it." Roxas said with a raised brow.

"You'll understand after meeting him." Renly said apologetically, earning a reluctant nod from Roxas and a sigh from Cloud.

"Now… If there's nothing else, my Lords-?"

Ned was slightly perturbed that once dismissing the council meeting for the day, it's present members left at their respective hurried paces.

Seeing his expression, Roxas gave the Warden a small sympathetic look before heading out of the chamber. Cloud merely gave the Hand a small nod and walked out alongside the Keybearer.

In Cloud's perspective, he could probably see the current Hand as a great king but a bad politician. It's honestly hard to be both a good man and a good king, if that made sense. The Warden of the North is a good leader, navigating through several problems right away. After all, the man's got nearly twenty years worth of experience doing so. But at the end of the day, Ned doesn't exactly have much help from outside parties all that well.

Ned gazed upon the empty seat of the Master of Ships, wishing for its occupant to be present for these meetings. Despite the man being cold as the North itself, Stannis would've been an excellent ally for the current Hand.

"This heat..." Pycelle began as he hobbled out of the room. "On days like this, I envy you Northerners and your summer snows. Until tomorrow, my Lord-"

"I've been hoping to talk to you about Jon Arryn." Ned cut in hastily.

With how busy the Stark patriarch had been since coming to the capital, the topic of his foster father's death had been shoved aside for a while now. It was present in Ned's mind, gnawing at him with great annoyance as it wanted to be addressed. But now with some workloads being not so problematic, the Hand decided to finally investigate his predecessor's death.

"Lord Arryn?" Pycelle faced Ned and straightened as much as he could. "His death was a great sadness to all of us. I took personal charge of his care, but I could not save him; regrettably. His sickness struck him very hard and very fast. I saw him in my chambers just the night before he passed. Lord Jon often came to me for counsel."

"Why?"

Pycelle seemed to take offense to that. "I have been Grand Maester for many years. Kings and Hands have come to me for advice. From King Robert and Aerys before him, and his father Jaehaerys the Second before him, and even for a few short months under Jaehaerys' father, Aegon the Fortunate, fifth of his name."

"What did Jon want the night before he died?" Ned asked.

"He came to inquire about a book."

This piqued Ned's interest. "A book? What book?"

"I fear it would be of little interest to you, my Lord. A ponderous tome."

Pycelle looked quite nervous at the mention of this book, something with Ned noticed.

"No, I'd like to read it."

Upon Ned's "insistence", Pycelle had to invite the Hand into his work chambers in the Red Keep. It took a bit of time getting there, due to the Grand Maester's age and stature as he hobbled about.

Reaching the office, Ned's nose was quick to pick up on the burning scented candles. He did not question it in the slightest, knowing it was the only thing to help deal with the smell of brewed concoctions the Grand Maester has to make nearly every day. That and the faint smell coming from beyond the walls of the Red Keep.

Ned is still thankful for the token Roxas gave him to help deal with the smell. But hopefully with this problem with the sewage system taken care of soon enough, then the rest of the city will recover from that long lasting blight.

As Pycelle went to the bookshelf to retrieve the tome Jon Arryn was looking into, the Stark patriarch took notice of several recognizable Potions and Ethers laid out on a separate table with various pieces of parchment being written out. It didn't take much guess work for him to realize that Pycelle was indeed taking up Roxas' offer, questioning the Keybearer on much as to what he knows on several topics in general.

His attention was brought back to Pycelle, who then spoke once placing down a worn out and slightly dusty tome onto his desk. "The lineages and histories of the great Houses of the Seven Kingdoms, with descriptions of many high lords and noble ladies and their children."

Ned eyed the book curiously, inspecting it carefully. Why would Jon Aryn be looking after this book? Yes, his foster father was a studious man, but there had to be something more than that to it.

Unbuckling the clasps of the very large and thick book, Ned opened it and flipped through several pages. The writing was a bit small on each page, given the fact much detail had to be put in over the years. And each House was given a good number of pages as everything was being kept up to date for over the years.

...There was some part of Ned that was regretting getting into this now. He can scarcely imagine how incredibly exhausting it will be to sit and read through all of this.

"As I said, my Lord, a ponderous read." Said the maester, sitting down in his chair as he felt rather tired.

"Did Jon Arryn tell you what he wanted with it?" Asked the Hand, hoping Pycelle's answer could help speed up his investigation in some manner.

"He did not, my Lord." Pycelle said. "And I did not presume to ask."

"Jon's death-"

"Such a tragedy."

"Did he say anything to you during his final hours?"

"Nothing of import, my Lord… There was one phrase he kept repeating: 'The seed is strong', I think it was."

Ned creased an eyebrow in confusion. "The seed is strong? What does that mean?"

"The dying mind is a demented mind, Lord Stark. For all the weight they're given, last words are usually as significant as first words."

Ned would think to disagree on that one.

"And you've quite certain he died of a natural illness?"

"What else could it be?"

"Poison…"

The possibility was there, given the fact there are some which made one's death seem natural.

Pycelle looked uncomfortable at this. "A disturbing thought. We are not the Free Cities, where such things are common. So I don't think it's likely. The Hand was loved by all. What sort of man would dare…"

"I've heard it was said that poison is a woman's weapon."

"Yes… Women, cravens… and eunuchs." The old man added as a last detail. "Did you know Lord Varys is a eunuch"

Ned practically rolled his eyes. "Everybody knows that." Ned scoffed.

"Yes, yes, of course. How that sort of person found himself on the King's Council, I will never know."

Ned ignored that last part in favor of asking the maester something. "One last question, if you would be so kind. I remember Robert telling me he was at Jon Arryn's bedside when he died. What of the queen… Was Cersei with him?"

"Why, no." Pycelle said. "She and the children were making the journey to Casterly Rock, in company with her father. Lord Tywin had brought a retinue to the city for the tourney on Prince Joffrey's name day, no doubt hoping to see his son Jamie win the champions crown. In that he was sadly disappointed to see his son lose against Ser Loras Tyrell. It fell to me to send the queen word of Lord Arryn's sudden death. Never have I sent off a bird with a heavier heart."

"Dark wings, dark words." Ned murmured. It was a proverb Old Nan had taught him as a boy.

"So the saying goes." Grand Maester Pycelle agreed on. "But we know it is not always so. When Maester Luwin's bird brought word about your son, Bran, the message lifted every true heart in the castle, did it not?"

"As you say, Maester." Ned then closed and clasped up the book. "I've taken enough of your time."

"No trouble at all, my Lord. It's a great honor…"

"Thank you for your help. I'll find my own way out. Good day."

"Come as often as you like." Pycelle spoke out to the retreating Hand. "I am here to serve."

'Yes,' Ned thought as he closed the door behind him, 'but to whom?'

Exiting Pycelle's chambers, Ned made his way towards his own. It was during his trek back there did he think about asking Prince Oberyn on what he knows on poisons -among other things- when seeing him next. The Viper knows his fair share of poisons, given the fact he got his moniker due to studying and using them; more so with how he was exiled from his homeland in the first place.

The heat was getting to him once again, there was no avoiding it. He could feel the tunic clinging to his chest and back. Thick, moist air covered the city like a damp woolen blanket with the smell no doubt making it worse. The riverside had grown unruly as the poor fled their hot, airless warrens to jostle for sleeping places near the water, where the only breath of wind could be found.

Sad to say, there was no relief in his present residency in the Red Keep.

When Ned got to his chamber door in the Tower of the Hand, he came upon Arya on the winding steps, windmilling her arms as she struggled to balance on one leg. The rough stone had scuffed her bare feet. And not far away, he could see the direwolf Nymeria panting as it tried to lay into some shade to cool herself down.

"Arya? What are you doing?" He couldn't help but ask in bewilderment.

"Syrio says a water dancer can stand on one toe for hours." Arya answered her father.

"It's a hard fall down these steps." He gestured to the hard, stone floor.

"Both Syrio and Cloud said every hurt is a lesson and every lesson makes you better." She stopped her 'balancing act'. "Tomorrow I'm going to be chasing cats."

Ned raised a brow in amusement. "Cats? Ah, they said…"

"Syrio said that every swordsman should study cats." Arya corrected him, not including Cloud this time. "They're quiet as shadows and as light as feathers. You have to be quick to be quick to catch them."

"He's right about that."

Ned was about to go into his chamber when Arya spoke up with hope in her voice. "Now that Bran's awake, will he come live with us?"

Ned smiled to himself, still glad to see that his children cared for each other so much, even if Bran and Arya always bickered over the smallest of things. It was the same between his two daughters, but they've been making amends for some time now, making him all the more happier.

Yet he did notice that Sansa seemed regretful since leaving Winterfell. And the Warden can already understand why.

His eldest daughter took on a lot of qualities of her mother, even if some were not entirely great. One was her distancing herself from Jon as per Catelyn's instructions.

Sansa wasn't outright rude to Jon, just trying to ignore his presence. But since Roxas' arrival, the elder Stark girl has been trying to be a better woman and change at a decent pace.

Baby steps, that's all that matters to Ned now. Hopefully, if the chance presented itself, Sansa and Jon could meet each other again and mend their strained relationship caused by his wife.

Coming out of his thoughts, Ned had to ease things into the present topic. "Well, Arya, he needs to get his strength back first. So he won't be able to come down South for a long time."

It was a bit of an excuse. After learning of the assassination attempt on his son's life, Ned needed him to be kept in the North for his own safety. He didn't want to risk him coming to the capital if the perpetrator behind the catspaw assassin still had it out for the broken wolf or not.

Like what he told his wife before she left King's Landing, it's too dangerous to see him until he has proof as to what is going on.

"He told me he dreamed of being a warrior, even being a member of the Kingsguard. But…"

"Who's to say he can or cannot? He could if he worked hard on it. If not, he'll someday become Lord of a holdfast or sit on the King's Council. Or he might raise castles like Brandon the Builder. Or he could become Bran the Explorer and see the known World and everything beyond it."

Ned's reassurance seemed to brighten her up a little, making her voice a passing thought. "Can I be a King's councilor and build castles and explore the world? Can I even be Lord of a holdfast?"

Arya remembers that House Mormont is currently led by a woman. And in Dorne, women had the opportunity of ruling their own holdfasts instead of just skipping over them. The Martells had confirmed this to the inspiring She-wolf, much to her delight..

Ned chuckled and gave his daughter a kiss on the forehead. "You will marry a high lord and rule his castle. And your sons shall be knights and princess and lords."

"No, that's not me…" She replied as she went back into her 'balancing act'. "That would be Sansa."

Ned snorted softly as he could see Arya being more and more like Lyanna every day. His sister wanted to be like what his daughter recently spoke, not wanting to be constrained and tied down in the norms of this World has for women.

Leaving Arya alone for her self-training, Ned moved into his office and addressed the people inside.

-Later, On the Streets-

Roxas and Cloud followed after Ned Stark towards a tavern from what the Hand had told them of.

On the way, Ned spoke of just who it was they were going to be working with for this particular mission: Thoros of Myr and Beric Dondarrion, the lightning lord and Lord of Blackhaven within the Stormlands.

Thoros is an anointed priest from Myr of the Red Religion but hasn't followed the faith for a number of years. He arrived at King's Landing around the time of the Sacking. After some instances, he became drinking and whoring buddies with Robert ever since.

Lord Beric of Blackhaven was a fearless, charismatic and loyal man. He was rather confident and extremely noble over the years, more so in the fights he took part in to the tourneys he participated in.

The Lightning Lord as he was called, he was a great warrior that Ned had fought alongside at several points with the two gaining a deep seated respect between each other. And during the Greyjoy Rebellion, both he and Thoros grew to have a brotherly friendship as they had each other's backs.

They seem that they were trustworthy men since Ned vouches for them.

"How much farther is it?"

"Just round the bend here." Ned gestured ahead towards a corner of the path that they were walking on.

Walking through Kings Landing without such a small amount of guards would normally be foolish for some…

But having the two most well known Heartless slayers counters any and all complaints for the most part. That and the fact that most of the Stark guards that had accompanied their lord to this sweltering heat wave of a capital have also been trained directly under Roxas back in the North when the growing threat of the Heartless made themselves present.

Coming upon a tavern, Ned gestured for the two blonds to follow him inside.

It was as raucous and boisterous as most taverns would usually be except it was slightly toned down.

It was still the afternoon, after all.

"...it's like drinking from a puddle."

Both Roxas and Cloud looked over to the bar where two men were seated, drinks in hand.

"What do you expect to drink from a tavern in this part of the city? Ale ain't as good."

"Aye."

With there being not that many occupants in the tavern, it was rather easy to spot the individuals Ned spoke of.

"Beric! Thoros!" Ned said aloud, causing both men to halt their conversation and shift around to gaze at the Hand of the King.

Beric had this grizzled look of him that would've attracted some women here and there, possibly a bit more if he had some more scars. His hairline was receding while his full beard was thin and neatly trimmed.

Thoros, on the other hand, had a much fuller beard. It was bushy, but it wasn't messy like what Robert presently has. And he was balding, but he hid it with this top bun he made with the long hair growing along the sides.

"Eddard Stark." Beric Dondarrian said with a beaming grin, getting up from his seat and walking straight over to his old friend.

Both men grabbed each other's forearms with a firm shake.

"It is good to see you are in fine health, Lord Stark." Beric greeted.

"It's good to know I can still find you so easily." Ned shot back slyly making the Lord guffaw.

"Yes well, someone needs to look out for his friend." Beric said, nodding his head to the man still seated at the bar.

Ned smirked, walking over to the man in red robes.

"Don't get up on my account, Thoros." Stark said, slapping the man's back heartily making him chuckle.

"Apologies, Lord Stark." Thoror said good naturedly. "I fear I may make a fool of myself if I were to get up out of this chair. Maybe a few more drinks to numb the pain." He tapped the side of his head.

"Of course."

Beric took notice of the two blondes beside the Lord Hand. "These them?"

"They are." Ned turned to the two warriors of light and waved his hand for them to come over. "Roxas, Cloud, I'd like to introduce you to Lord Beric Dondarrion and Thoros of Myr. Thoros, Beric, these are the two men whom you'll be going with to the sewers below."

"The legendary Keyblade wielder." Beric remarked, standing before Roxas and holding out his hand to shake. "There has been much that I have heard about you. Even a few songs."

"Yeah, I've heard about that." Roxas said offhandedly. "Haven't actually heard any of them really."

Beric chortled. "They are mayhaps a slight bit on the exaggerative side with your escapades. But who knows? Perhaps they are not unfounded stories."

Cloud in the meantime was having his own introduction to Thoros.

"You're a big strapping lad, aren't you?" Thoros said with an impressed look in his eyes. "Pretty sure not even the Mountain can use a sword like that you got on your back."

"Not many can." Cloud said plainly.

Thoros offered the taller blonde a mug. "You want some rum?"

"No, it's too sweet." Came Cloud's response, declining Thoros' offer.

The Red Priest then rose a brow. "So then, why are you in a foul mood?"

"...Experience." Was the mercenary's response. "Plus it's too early for me."

"It's never too early for a drink." Thoros remarked with a friendly nudge.

"For me it is." Cloud stated. "We haven't even accomplished anything yet."

"Ah~ then first drinks shall be on my coin once the job is done."

Cloud crossed his arms in a seemingly dismissive manner when…

"I'll hold you to that."

The Red Priest chuckled a little.

Seeing them interacting with each other, Ned spoke up. "Much as I'd like to stay and catch up with you both, I have seven kingdoms to run unfortunately. I'll leave you four to it, then."

"Of course, Lord Stark." Said Beric.

Thoros merely nodded as he drank more from his mug.

Beric turned back to Roxas, crossing his arms.

"So, Lord Stark has instructed us both to follow with your leads in regards to this task." Beric said. "What is it that we shall be doing?"

"Clearing the sewers of the Heartless."

"Those creatures of… what were they referred to as again? Creatures of Darkness?"

The seemingly jolly mood of Thoros of Myr shifted slightly. It wasn't noticeable my most, but Cloud and Beric were able to pick it up.

"They've been spotted in the sewers of King's Landing." Roxas stated. "Lord Stark has barred entry to them because most of the guards here have no idea on how to fight them."

"What will get them first, though?" Thoros asked. "The Heartless? Or God's awful stench?"

Beric chortled with Cloud even smirking.

"Well, we won't have to worry about the stink of the sewers or this city." Roxas said, reaching into one of his pockets. He pulled out two necklaces with a green gem.

"What are those supposed to be?" Beric asked.

"Put them on and find out." Roxas encouraged.

Sharing a look, both men took the necklaces out of the boys hand and placed the necklaces over their heads. Once they had the green gems around their necks, their expressions shifted with their eyes widening and gaping in disbelief.

"I-I can breath!" Thoros nearly exclaimed with a comical glee. "Bloody Hell, I can breathe without smelling the stench!"

"Why do I smell the rich aroma of the forests?" Beric nearly whispered in awe.

"Where the fuck did you get these?"

"I know some people." Came Roxas' quick response.

"Right…" Thoros muttered before coughing into his hand. "So about these Heartless. I was told this… Ironwood resin, was it?... can help fight these monstrosities off."

Beric nodded in affirmation, hearing about it from Ned Stark earlier when he approached them for this task.

"They can, but since we're going down below, I'm afraid the resin might not exactly work." Cloud informed them.

"And why's that?"

"The sewage might wash it off your weapons." Cloud pointed out making Beric frown.

"Then how is it that we are able to assist you in this fight?"

"I got that covered." Roxas said, reaching into another pocket and pulling out a small bag that made both men blink.

"How do you…?"

"What?"

"N-Never mind." Thoros waved off.

Shrugging, Roxas began pulling out rings, chains and what looked like flasks of some kind much to the astonishment of the two warriors.

"...How the hell can you pull such big items from such a small space?" Beric inquired.

Roxas gave them both a small mischievous smirk. "I have my ways."

It wasn't long before the Keybearer pulled out a pair of straight swords, once again amazing the two older men before him. Once the weapons were placed on the table, Beric was the first to grab one and unsheathed the sword and saw the fine craftsmanship. Thoros followed suit and let out a whistle.

"And where'd you get these?"

"Tobho Mott's shop." Said Roxas as the two men gazed upon the items he got from the Moogles.

"That criminal?" Thoros said out of surprise.

"Why are you calling him a criminal?"

"Charges me twice as much as any armorer and smithy in this city."

"It's because he's twice as good." Was the counterargument.

Beric chuckled soon after. "There's the added fact that you keep going through swords left and right, breaking them too often like you are passing gas."

The Red Priest merely grumbled.

"Here." Roxas held out small little cups with stars on them. "These are potions that heal injuries and stamina if you get too overwhelmed."

"Seven Hells." Beric remarked, tentatively taking them out of the boys hand and giving a few to Thoros who accepted them with a nod of thanks towards Roxas.

"You got something pertaining to replenishing magic?"

"Pardon?"

"You heard me, lad."

Cloud was quick to say a statement, not a question. "You can use magic, can't you."

Thoros nodded. "Aye, and the both of you can as well. Then again, it's not much a surprise from what we've heard."

Roxas blinked in surprise upon hearing this.

"But I thought-"

"I have a limited capacity. At most, they are fire spells." Thoros admitted. "Teaching Beric has taken some time but he's getting a grasp of it as well."

"And where'd you learn that?"

"Back in Myr."

Much as this was to be a fascinating discussion, the giant sword wielder of the group spoke up.

"We should probably get going." Cloud said. "There's a lot of work to do."

"Aye." Beric said, strapping the new sword to his waist while attaching the accessories to his person.

"Then do you two know where our task begins?" Spoke the Red Priest.

Roxas nodded. "Ned told us where the entrance to the sewers are before getting here."

Thoros nodded as he got his new items equipped before taking one last chug from his mug. Once done, he soon joined his friend and their two blonde companions out of the tavern to begin their job to eradicate the Heartless below the capital.

-The Rose Gardens-

Sansa sat within the Rose Gardens with her new… well she wanted to call her a friend though she has yet to fully decide.

Arianne Martell sat before her, one leg over the other and poised in a manner that radiates elegance, sensuality and when one looks at her eyes, a sharp intelligence.

"Are you enjoying your lemon cakes, Sansa?" Arianne asked, making the young Stark girl blink for a moment.

"Oh… uh, yes, I am." Sansa said with a flustered smile. "Lemon cakes are my favorite."

"I can see that." Arianne said coyly with an amused smirk. "You don't have them in the North, do you?"

The young Lady of Winterfell shook her head. "Not much. Only having them for special occasions. Last time I had one back home was when King Robert came to retrieve my father to become his new Hand. And the time before that was for my sister's birthday."

"Birthday?"

"It's another term for name day."

"And where'd that come from?"

"Roxas."

The heir to Dorne nodded. "Rolls off the tongue better."

"It does, doesn't it." Sansa said. "It's so strange to think I had grown so used to 'Nameday' but with one celeberation of a birthday that's all I can call it by now. It makes more sense."

"I think I shall enjoy my next birthday then." Arianne said cheekily, making Sansa giggle. "You're invited of course."

"Thank you, milady." Sansa said.

"It's just Arianne to you, Sansa." Arianne said kindly.

"Sorry, it's just… a little difficult. Been used to speaking in such a way towards other lords and ladies."

The Martell gave her an understanding look. "There's a time and place for formalities, Sansa. Now it is not so much."

The young red-haired highborn lady only nodded tentatively.

"So tell me, Sansa," Arianne leaned forward, resting her chin on her palm. "I've always been curious about the North. Being a daughter of Lord Stark, you must know all about it."

Being a young lady of Winterfell, Sansa had to learn so much about her native kingdom. While her younger sister is negligent in most of those lessons, she -herself- was the complete opposite. It was her duty to help honor her House by knowing everything she could.

Attentive in her studies, Sansa made sure to be the prim and proper lady she was raised to be.

Looking back on it, with everything that she had seen and experienced…

Maybe it was high time she started to pick up on her younger sisters tendencies. Well… not all of them.

"There's quite a lot, if I'm being honest." Sansa said, idly gazing at yet another lemon cake in her hand. "What is it you want to know exactly?"

Arianne shrugged. "Whatever it is that comes to mind. What's it like living in the North? What are the people like?"

"Well," Sansa rubbed her chin. "It is quite cold and there is a lot of snow."

She looked over to see the flat stare from the Martell with the Northern lady giggling to herself.

"Truly? It snows in the North?" Arianne deadpanned.

Sansa grinned. "Yes, yes, a great deal of snow."

"Clearly." Arianne said dryly. "And…"

Her expression changed into a more thoughtful frown.

"It is… harsh." She began. "Not like the rest of Westeros. The climate is hard which makes for hardy people. Food is scarce so each meal holds value. I never understood it in the beginning but father spoke of the fanciful frivolousness of the South. How the weather allows them for their trickery and deceit. We don't have time for that. In the North we speak plainly and honestly. We do not mince words."

"A kingdom of honest folk?" Arianne perked up. "Seven Hells. I did not know there was such a place in this maddening country."

Sansa smiled slightly at the comment while Arianne sighed.

"We are similar in some ways back in Dorne. While some food sources are plentiful, it's hard to grow anything proper given our desert climate. Almost everything has to be imported from outside sources. And the simplest of rains is like a blessing from the gods themselves, giving us a brief form of relief from the heat we live through each day."

"Our rain feels like needles on a cold day."

Arianne winced. "That must be terrible."

"It can be. But one gets used to such harsh weather."

Arianne hummed in agreement. "The rest of the kingdoms take what they have for granted, not knowing what our respective homes are like. They'll never know what it's like until they experience it first hand."

The Stark girl was silent for a movement when she said…

"Winter Is Coming."

Her new friend looked up at her. "Pardon?"

"Winter Is Coming."

"Ah yes, the famous Stark house words." Arianne said in realization.

"I never truly understood them at times but since coming South," Sansa looked over to a small clearing where she saw the seas. "I'm starting to understand why those have been our words for thousands of years."

"And why is that so?"

"That hardship will always eventually come." Sansa said in a grim tone that made her think of her father and two eldest brothers Robb and Jon. "The times of peace that we enjoy will always come to an end and we must endure strife. Be it war or personal struggles to overcome."

"My, my, there appear to be more to you than meets the eye, Lady Stark." Arianne remarked with a pleased smirk, one Sansa returned. She already knew the meaning to those words beforehand, but it was good to hear the authenticness coming from Sansa's mouth.

"Unbowed, Unbeant, Unbroken." Arianne said of her House words. "We are fierce as we are not ones to surrender easily. Began once my ancestor, Princess Nymeria, first arrived in Dorne and throughout the years our words still stand till this day. Even when Aegon the Conqueror sought to have our home join the rest, we did not bend to him and his sister, Rhaenys; even when her dragon Meraxes was breathing down the face of my ancestor, Meria Martell."

"Those are always Arya's favorite stories." Sansa stated with Arianne chuckling.

"Yes, I've met the little She-wolf." Arianne said. "She is quite the character and many of my cousins greatly enjoy her presence. As do I." She then leaned in with a conspiratory face. "But worry not, Sansa. You're my favorite."

The Stark girl laughed aloud with the Martell heir joining in.

"The Starks." Arianne mused aloud once their laughter died down. "The other kingdoms would call you all barbarians yet when the North bares their fangs, the south trembles in fear. Even the Targaryens fell to the North."

Sansa looked at her friend in confusion. "I don't understand."

"Come now Sansa, do you not hold pride in the fact that it was your kingdom that helped overthrow a three hundred year old dynasty?" Asked the voluptuous Dornish woman in a teasing tone. "Though my side was on the losing one, I hold no ill will towards your people. They had every right to rebel against that madman of a king. We would have likely done the same had it not been for my late aunt."

"What do you mean?"

"My fellow Dornishmen would've retaliated and joined the rebels if it weren't for the Mad King holding my aunt and her children hostage here in the capital. Thus we were forced to align ourselves with the loyalists."

Sansa was silent, mulling over the princesses' words.

Every time she thought of the rebellion, there was always a strange sense of incompletion. The stories were usually vague and only factual.

And her father absolutely refused to talk about it.

Though he didn't notice it, Sansa was always aware of the expressions her father made when the Rebellion was brought up. The tormented and haunted look in his eyes would always stay with her until the night.

"I have to admire your people, Sansa, I must admit." Arianne spoke up, regaining her attention. "Though I've heard some nasty things be said about the North."

"What do you mean?"

"You don't need to lie, Sansa. You've heard the slander towards your fellow Northmen, being labeled as savages among other things." Arianne said to her. "I've heard my fair share for my fellow Dornishmen, more so since coming here. Whereas most take it as a slight, my family and I take it in stride."

Sansa stared at the Dornish Princess that exuded confidence with a sensuous smirk.

She certainly prided herself on being Dornish.

"I've tended to notice the way most other Kingdoms look down upon the Northernmost and southernmost Kingdoms of Westeros." Arianne said with a dry tone. "The other kingdoms just can't accept the ways of the North and Dorne."

"Like what?"

"Our ways of succession."

"Pardon?"

"Tell me, do you remember what your Septa was telling you earlier about in terms of succession?"

"You heard that?"

"Bits and pieces when I was coming into the throne room. Do forgive me on that." Sansa nodded as Arianne continued. "Now you see, one thing the rest of the kingdoms have a hard time coming to terms with is our means of succession. Instead of women being placed behind the men when inheriting lands and titles, they have the right to do so ahead of them."

"How?"

"You can thank my ancestor for that. Princess Nymeria was so strong and influential, the rest of Dorne accepted and embraced the idea of having women being able to lead Houses, unchallenged and even when one is the first born."

"Really? I thought that was merely a jest I heard in passing."

"It's quite real, I insure you."

Throughout the centuries since the formation of this tradition, many Dornish women had gracefully led their Houses and were beloved because of it. The majority and well known ones came from Arianne's very own House with it's last female leader was her grandmother. Thus the Dornish princess possessed a drive to become great as each of her ancestor leaders of the fairer sex.

Throughout the years, there have been days when the heir to Dorne thanked her lucky stars she was born first and not either of her brothers. As much as she cared for them, she loved her youngest brother Tristaine far more than Quentyn. And she can't imagine her first brother ruling all of Dorne.

Boys often seek out grand adventures. Escaping their normal lives and yearn by the time the adventure ends, they become true men in some shape or form. Hardened through experience to help survive in various conflicts.

Her father is a man, being a good leader for her people. Her uncle is a man, being a grand adventurer and fighter who explored much of what this world had to offer. Her grunkle is a man, being a great knight who was worthy of the title; despite no longer being in the Kingsguard.

No matter how much he will try, Quentyn will always remain a boy, a terrified one at that. And those boys in particular do not survive their grand adventures when they aren't properly prepared.

While Trystane is considered a boy by some, he will grow into becoming a good man under the direct teachings of their father. Quentyn, however, will not due to circumstances.

This began years ago when her uncle Oberyn was caught sleeping with the mistress of Lord Edgar Yronwood at the age of sixteen… all the while also sleeping with said lord's wife. Because of his status of being the second son of House Martell, the duel Oberyn had with Edgar was settled with first blood drawn from one's opponent. Oberyn won the bout and things were settled with honor satisfied.

But not entirely, mind you. For you see, Lord Edgar's wound from his duel against Oberyn festered… and he died.

Thus Oberyn's nickname of the Red Viper was born, due to there being suspicions of the Dornish prince coating his sword in poison.

Oberyn never confirmed, nor denied such a thing.

In order to make amends to House Yronwood, Prince Doran was forced to exile his brother -for a time- while promising them his first born son will be fostered into their care until he becomes a proper man. The Dornish leader upheld his promise when Quentyn came of age and sent him to Yronwood, which he still lives there to this day.

When this happened, several resulting problems arose; one of which was the marriage between Arianne's parents becoming greatly strained. This eventually ended up having her mother, Lady Mellario, separating with her father and returning home to Novos with the family hardly hearing anything from her since.

Focusing back on Quentyn, he would be and always will be a brownnoser. Since the last time Arianne saw her first brother, she saw he never grew out of seeking out the approval of others from the unhealthy degree he possessed. Don't get her wrong that she knows Lord Anders Yronwood is a good man to learn from, but Quentyn shouldn't be learning everything while under the man's roof.

As far as she knows, her first brother will not be a good man, one qualified for being a member of House Martell. Even her cousin/uncle Nymor is far more a man than Quentyn any day.

It was at this time that their conversation shifted onto something else.

"I've dreamed of coming here to the capital, seeing the southern knights and painted armor and King's Landing after dark with the candles burning in all those windows." Sansa admitted.

Arianne gazed upon the eldest Stark daughter with a raised and known brow.

"And now that you've seen that dream came into fruition, what now?"

Sansa bit her lip, looking down at her hands now folded upon her lap. "I've dreamed... I've dreamed on having a family with-"

"Roxas, I assume?" Arianna said with a mischievous grin, which only grew upon seeing Sansa's reddening face upon that proclamation.

"Oh~ not even denying such a statement?" Arianna asked with an excited tone.

"But… But Roxas, he's… he's…"

"The man you love, isn't he?"

Sansa sighed, giving her a weak, bashful smile. "...Am I that obvious?"

"Clear as the sky above."

The Red-haired wolf only exhaled in defeat.

"Yes… Yes I do love him." Sansa stated in a low voice. "I've loved him perhaps since I had gotten to know him. Since he saved my life so many times. I just… couldn't stop myself."

"You almost sound ashamed." Arianne pointed out.

"He is betrothed to Myrcella." Sansa said with a miserable tone. "And I don't hate her for it I just wished...

Arianne said nothing at first, only nodding as she knew what the Stark girl was talking about.

"It's not too late for you, my friend." Arianne said kindly.

This made Sansa utterly confused. "What do you mean it's too late? Of course it is."

Arianne shook her head in a disapproving manner. "Women in our positions must make the best of our circumstances."

"How can I make the best of this circumstance? I have to marry Joffrey." Sansa's expression was one of defeat.

"Come walk with me. It's best to walk off this food we just ate." Arianne ordered in the gentlest of means. Sansa complied, rising from her seat as they strolled through the Rose Gardens. "Tell me, has Joffrey mistreated you?"

"Only once, leaving Arya and I behind at the mercy of the Heartless."

"And then?"

"Whenever we're in the same room, I can feel his glare, even when I don't look at him." Arianne nodded, ushering her to continue. "He doesn't talk to me, but I can already tell what he might say to me with how much he hates me, my sister and our direwolves." Sansa shook her head a little. "Forgive me. Here I am complaining to you…"

"No, it's good to do so at times. Someone who you can trust hearing them and receiving their opinions in return."

"But you didn't tell me how to make the best of my circumstance?"

"I was getting to that. You see, since you are a high born lady of House Stark you hold much influence and power if handled properly. King Robert sought to unite his House with yours through marriage. A great idea to unite the North and South after so many years. But not all great ideas can work well."

Sansa was confused as to what her friend was getting to this.

"With your betrothal to the prince presently in the early stages with no wedding planned anytime soon, there's a number of factors to consider. For instance, how he's treating you." The heir to Dorne explained the reason. "While, in most cases, it can be overlooked in order to help benefit two strong families uniting together, it's not exactly the same in others. With how things are, in your case, there might be the possibility your betrothal with Joffrey might be called off. It all depends on how bad things escalate from now till your wedding day."

There are more cases to consider, like forced marriages where one person is forced to marry another to gain influence on the lands and powers. But Arianne didn't want to worry Sansa more than she should on such a topic.

This perked Sansa up, only a little bit on the possibility of such a thing. But she quickly remembered something else. "But what of Roxas? He's to marry Myrcella?"

"Is he?" Arianne asked, a gleam in her eyes. "Does he seem like the kind of man who would simply go along with such a gesture so willingly?"

Sansa opened her mouth to counter her words before frowning and thinking on Roxas's reaction to the announcement of his betrothal.

He up and left them in the middle of the King's Road for two days.

From the way her father described his reaction it was one that he was none to pleased about.

"I don't think I have much of a chance or a choice."

Arianne only scoffed dismissively at such a notion.

"Remember what I spoke of successions. It was not the first time a woman had led a House. If I remember correctly a woman is currently a head of House Mormont, one Marge Mormont I believe. And then there was Queen Rhaenyra Targaryen."

"I know of her. Her reign was… short."

"Yes because her half-brother, King Aegon the Second couldn't accept the fact his father King Viserys named her the heir to the Iron Throne. As a result, the Dance of Dragons commenced, all because men couldn't imagine a woman solely ruling Westeros." Arianne said with a shake of her head.

"Your septa had brought up the point that if things couldn't work with Joffrey, Tommen would become King. But in Dornish eyes, Myrcella could succeed Tommen if things play right."

Sansa widened her eyes in surprise on hearing such a thing. "But Tommen is a kind-hearted boy."

"Not so much as his sister. Things happen and Tommen might not be the right person sitting on the Iron Throne if it was thrusted upon him. Yes, he is a kind-hearted boy, but one that can be easily manipulated if the opportunity arises. And if the wrong people dig their claws into him, who knows."

"But…"

"I know, I know what you're thinking, but people need to accept the idea of a woman sitting on the throne. Times are changing and sooner or later, they'll be dragged down through the muck and perish later on." Arianne then brought something else along. "From the entire time I've interacted with her, Myrcella has the capability of being a good queen. She honestly does care for the people, far more than her brothers combined. Many overlook her, but not I. For I see something that might prove beneficial with all of Westeros."

Sansa was quiet, processing what her friend spoke of… and she was right.

"Now whereas the betrothal between you and Prince Joffrey may not work, Myrcella has a far better chance of marrying Roxas."

This didn't lighten Sansa's spirits all that much.

"Now hold on, Sansa, let me explain. If I remember correctly, Joffrey has not once bothered trying to come up to you and make amends for what happened at the Crossroads Inn. He has not bothered to spend time with you and get to know you, the means of trying to strengthen his betrothal to you. If things don't succeed, King Robert will be forced to break off the betrothal between you and his son before seeking someone else to fill the role as the prince's wife. Myrcella, however, is a gentle soul and a complete opposite to her older brother. She is taking a lot of effort in wanting to befriend and getting to know Roxas so their relationship will work, unlike most out there. Tell me I'm wrong."

Sansa thought back to the many times when the blonde princess was interacting with Roxas. Shoving past the jealousy she had in said memories, the Stark girl saw that Arianne was once again right.

After some moments of silence, Sansa spoke. "You're not wrong."

Arianne nodded. "Myrcella would want you to be happy. She is rather fond of you, isn't she?"

"S-She is." Sansa stammered, not seeing where this was going to now.

"As I see it, there might be two options for you if Myrcella becomes Queen. One can be a bit more ideal for you. If she were to sit on the throne instead of her brothers, she could break off your betrothal to Joffrey. And if things don't exactly play out well between her and Roxas, she might break that off as well. If that were to happen, you mayhaps get the opportunity in having Roxas as your husband."

Sansa smiled at the idea, even with how rough it might be.

"And the other?"

Arianne smiled in such a way that made her uneasy, but she didn't know if it was the good or the bad kind.

"The second would basically involve Myrcella still being betrothed to Roxas, but you might have the opportunity in… joining them in their relationship."

Sansa was nodding her head absently to whatever Arianne spoke of before suddenly stiffening, her blue eyes blinking at the Dornish princess while her mind processed what was just spoken.

Error… Error… … booting… booting…

The Stark girl was making a peculiar expression that made Arianne hold back a laugh. All the Dornish princess could see on her friend's babbling expression were the odd comical swirl with her face flushing red as steam wafted up from her head.

After some time, only a single word was able to encompass all that Sansa was feeling, echoing throughout the entirety of the Rose Gardens.

"WHHHHAAAATTT!?"

The little floodgate opened, having Arianne burst out into a massive fit of giggles upon hearing the volume of Sansa's yell.

-Sewers of King's Landing; Insert Kingdom Hearts 2: Laughter and Merriment-

"Seven Hells." Thoros's expression was scrunched up at the revolting sight of the sewers that he had been walking through with the party of four that were tasked in locating the Heartless that were seen by the City Guard.

"I'm certainly grateful for this charm, Roxas." Thoros said, squirming a bit. "But I think just looking at it…"

"Yeah, I know." Roxas said understandably as his expression was no better.

"I've had to go through some nasty shit before…" Cloud muttered, having actually pulled out an old, tattered red scarff of his and wrapped it around his nose and mouth for an added layer of protection. "But this is something else."

"I'm gonna need to rinse my clothes for at least a year." Roxas remarked with a grimace, narrowly stepping into quite a nasty looking puddle.

"A year?" Beric said aloud. "Quite frankly, after I receive my pay, I'm burning these old garments and getting myself some new ones."

"On that we agree." Thoros stated. "I am certain that even the Lord of Light wouldn't mind changing his clothing after walking through this nightmare."

"Pretty sure any deity would give any of their followers a pass on burning their religious robes if they see what's down here." Roxas said, earning grunts of agreement from both Beric and Thoros.

They had rounded about a corner, weapons in their hands for a brief moment before putting them away for the time being.

The group had yet to encounter any Heartless, having been trudging through the schloppy schlop and shit of the sewers for the past half hour. It wasn't that bad on the first portion, but the mess now practically showed where the workers were forced to vacate and leave.

"Are you certain that there were these Heartless creatures spotted down here?" Beric asked as they continued to walk down the tunnels.

"I really wouldn't put much stock in the city guard." Cloud bluntly declared, peeking at a branching narrow pathway with his hand grasping the hilt of his sword. "But the Stark guards also backed them up so there may be something down here after all."

The two native men of this World only chortled at the tall blond swordsman's comment.

They continued along their path in relative silence, not exchanging much in terms of conversation.

"This is rather annoying." Beric suddenly said aloud.

"What is?" Roxas asked, looking to the Lord.

"I'm rather used to having a conversation than perpetual silence." Beric admitted.

"What do you want to talk about then?" Roxas asked.

"Anything at all. Something to briefly take our minds off this filth."

Nodding, Roxas decided to voice something on his mind. "Thoros, can I ask you something?"

"What is it?"

"Just asking this, but what do you remember on the Siege of Pyke?" Asked the Keybearer.

Thoros blinked at the question, scratching his scraggly beard. "Honestly? Don't remember much. Was somewhat of a blur."

"Why's that?" Cloud asked, glancing behind them momentarily.

"Because he was coming out of a drunken bender the night before." Beric answered for his friend.

Thoros opened his mouth to refute, but ended up waving his hand in admittance.

"I did, at least, remember the major parts. Casting a spell on my sword, coating it in flames and charging head first once the gates were breached."

"Nearly everyone thought you were some sort of fire god. Probably the bravest warrior they could've ever met." Beric said with a grin.

Thoros merely chuckled. "More like the drunkest."

"Then I hope you're sober enough for traversing through the sewers." Said Cloud.

"Trust me, the smell down there would probably quicken it." Thoros stated. "I'll be sure to remove this charm to be extra sure."

Hearing this detail made Roxas briefly think of someone he knew. "You remind me of a friend of mine."

"Oh? How so?"

"You said you coated your sword in fire, right?"

"In spells, yes. But for a time, I merely used oil to help light it up. I even used wildfyre once… was not a good idea by the end of it."

"That must not have been fun."

"It clearly wasn't. But this friend of yours..."

Roxas nodded. "Well, instead of a sword, he used chakrams and used flames a whole lot in his maneuvers." This drew in a bit of interest from Thoros.

"And who might he be? I might've heard of him."

"You wouldn't know him." Thoros tried to speak but Roxas interrupted. "I mean it."

"So this Lord of Light faith thing." Cloud said. "Where is it found?"

"In the east back in Essos." Thoros said in a vague tone. "Often located in a number of places, such as Myr where I lived once. Though it is most recognized in Volantis and the shadowland called Asshai."

The way in which Thoros finished that last statement made Cloud deadpan at him. "That wasn't ominous at all."

"Yes, it does sound quite dark." Thoros said, pulling out his flask for a drink. "Oh~ beware the Shadowlands."

"Be careful in not dropping that." Beric pointed out. "You wouldn't want to be tasting shit because of it."

Thoros rolled his eyes before capping off his flask and putting it away.

"Then why are you here in Westeros to begin with?"

"Blame the High Priest back home for that." Thoros then explained. "Around the time when the Rebellion against the Targaryens was coming to an end, he sent me out in order to get close and befriend the newly minted King, even the infamous Keybearer."

"Ventus?"

"Aye, him." Thoros confirmed. "Wasn't able to make it in time to reach the Rebels before the Sacking occured. I only arrived in the aftermath when Ventus up and left after his fallout with Robert. A shame I never got the chance to meet him. Him being a warrior of Light, someone who our High Priests and Priestesses highly regarded in combating the darkness."

"But why the two of them?" Cloud inquired. "And how?"

"It was so that our faith could have the opportunity in being properly introduced to Westeros. With the two being so influential at the time, it would've bolstered it considerably if I had them join our faith. As with how… well with Ventus, I would've thought of something once meeting him. With Robert, it was rather simple; we both indulged in the same vices of fighting, drinking and whoring. I attempted and failed to convert him."

"In reality, it was more like the other way around." Beric added in, earning a laugh from the Red Priest.

"Aye, no doubt about that. Became good friends with Robert as a result. Hell, he once asked me why I wore so much red. I responded with so that no one can tell I spilled any wine on myself, let alone hiding any blood on me. Robert laughed so hard he pissed himself."

The Priest's three companions quickly had their own responses of not really liking that outcome.

Rounding about yet another corner, the group paused in surprise at the sight before them.

"Is this supposed to be here?" Roxas asked.

"No." Beric's eyes narrowed. "I am certain that a caved in section of the sewers, be it in any location, is one of a serious matter."

"Be on your guard." Cloud said, grasping his sword as Beric and Thoros did the same whilst Roxas flexed his fingers, ready to call upon his Keyblades at a moment's notice.

They were now tense, with three of them turning to leave while Roxas stared up at the crumbled and blocked off corridor.

While he figured he could probably smash straight through this barrier, he wasn't really keen on what may happen afterwards i.e the ceiling from above possibly coming down.

Turning back to rejoin the others, Roxas noticed movement out of the corner of his eye.

Looking down to the streaming sludge, he squinted his eyes for a moment and leaned in to…

"Roxas."

The young blond looked up to see Cloud, Beric and Thoros waiting for him.

"Come on, don't stay behind by yourself." he stated, waving his hand for the Keybearer to get back with them.

"Right." Roxas nodded, speedily walking to rejoin them.

As they resumed their walk, Roxas kept eyeing the flowing gunk below as he was certain he saw something.

Knowing his luck, it's probably what they came down here for to eliminate.

However, as soon as they walked no less than several yards, the water next to them rippled and vibrated quite visibly.

And it wasn't from the literal flowing shit coming from various parts of the sewer system.

"What's that?" Beric asked warily, hand upon his sword.

"Oh boy." Roxas said, throwing his arms up in an x-shape.

"Yeah, looks like we've got company." Cloud grabbed his signature weapon and swung it forward.

-Insert Kingdom Hearts 2: Working Together-

The four men got into position. Cloud with his Fusion sword, Beric and Thoros with their blades quickly inflamed and Roxas with his two Keyblades.

Jumping out of the muck filled stream beside them, a number of figures landed and surrounded the group. They were no doubt Heartless and while they looked like Screwdivers and Missledivers, they resembled more reptilian in nature.

Their bodies were composed of several shades of blue while the finds on their head and tail were purple. Their eyes were yellow, surrounded by black with a large white jaw bone. They had four webbed fingers on each hand and three toes on each foot. There were silver bands on their wrists and their waists while also appearing they wore dark shorts. Lastly, they each carried a spear that looked like a giant fish skeleton.

The name Spear Lizards quickly came to mind when naming these new Heartless.

The next batch of Heartless to appear also came out of the mucky stream, but such filth came off quickly to reveal the glowing blue spikes and veins on their bodies. They floated aimlessly with their yellow eyes boring into the four fighters with spurts of water surrounding their forms.

These were the Water Cores, a type of Heartless Roxas and Cloud encountered several times by the Mudgate and by the ports of the capital.

Spinning Oblivion into a back hand, Roxas backflipped into the wall behind him and used it as a platform to propel himself forward.

Going into a corkscrew slash, he sliced through several Spear Lizards and Water Cores. Landing on the other side of the stream, Roxas whirled about and struck a spear out of the way before diagonally cutting through the Spear Lizard that attempted to attack him.

Cloud started with a vertical downward slash, taking out one Heartless, going into an upward right side diagonal cut for another with a horizontal slice to the left to take out two more. Not long after, he casted Thundra onto the floating Heartless, electrocuting them into defeat.

For Beric and Thoros, they had six Spear Lizards focusing on them. Wasn't long before they went in, trying to kill them in a coordinated surprise attack by thrusting their boney spears at them.

Like his title's namesake, the Lightning Lord was faster, flaming steel blade slashing widely to bash three of the spears' shafts apart, leaving them open for an attack by the duo. The Red Priest, however casted a pyromancy spell to momentarily knock his share of the opponents away. It wasn't long before the Heartless pack went back in for the attack.

Thoros dodge a coming thrust, using his left hand to grab the skeletal spear shaft and yank Spear Lizard forward. The unlucky Heartless got a flaming sword driven into it's gut before being kicked off the blade as it turned into dark vapors. He then casted another flame-like spell at his next opponent to stagger from the pain before the process repeated itself.

Beric parried one of the spears stabbing at him, though the other just reached him. He twisted his body as it stabbed at his shoulder, drawing a pained cry as the spear tip just pierced through his chainmail to draw blood. It was a minor wound, which did little to weaken his guard as he'd strike the pommel of his sword into the dark creature's face, making it stagger back before Beric's sword cleaved right through its body. Wasn't long before the Lightning Lord kicked his next opponent before thrusting his sword right through it's head.

Roxas jumped over the sludge, cleaving through a Water Core, landing next to Thoros who had his fiery sword grinding against the boney spear of a Spear Lizard.

Cutting through the Heartless, Thoros simply kept going and cut through a Water Core that had drifted nearby.

Beric was fighting alongside Cloud, the swordsman either cutting through a Heartless or knocking them up in the air giving the Lightning Lord the chance to slice through them.

As the fighting went on, the group drew in closer together, fighting more in tandem with one another capitalizing on opportunities that were presented.

When the fighting ended, everything seemed clear for the time being.

Beric exhaled, shakily leaning against the nearby wall.

"You alright there?" Cloud asked.

"I will be in a moment." Beric grunted out, retrieving a Potion from his waist and drank its contents. In a second, he was briefly encompassed in a green aura as his injuries were healed up and taken care of. Though he still could feel the pain he received earlier.

"Seven Hells." Beric muttered, gazing upon the empty potion container which then faded away a moment later.

Thoros, meanwhile, pulled out an Ether and consumed it. With it going down his throat, the Red Priest could feel his magical reserve get replenished. It was an astonishing feeling to say the least for the Red Priest to literally feel his magic reserves be restored.

He knows he'll be consuming a whole number of these throughout this task down here. His reserves, along with Beric's, were not that great to begin with. Either that or the spells they casted took a lot of them, hence the replenishing process had to be rather consistent.

God knows what it would've been like without Ventus and Roxas making their appearance to the world. For if not for them, magic would be far more dormant than it presently is.

"Are you two ready to continue?" Roxas asked, earning nods from the two natives of this World.

Continuing through the sewers, both the blonde fighters took notice of Thoros' expression. He was once a bit more upbeat or whatever in that field, but seemed a bit too serious.

"Thoros?" Roxas called out to him with the Priest being silent. "Thoros?"

"Hmmm? What?"

"You alright? You seem out of it."

"I'm fine. Nothing to worry about." Dismissed the Red Priest.

Neither the blonde fighters and Lord of Blackhaven believed that.

Prior to either of them questioning the Myrish man any further, they rounded the corner. When they did, they came across a small chamber and saw something... rather unusual spread out along the floor.

"...Is it the fumes finally getting to me or are you lot seeing what I'm seeing?" Beric questioned the others.

Clouds eyes narrowed, tightening his grasp upon his sword as he had not placed it on his back.

Coming up close, they saw a number of chests all bundled together here and there with a few strays along the walls.

"Chests?" Beric said aloud. "What in the world are chests doing down here?"

"Do you have any idea why they're down here of all places?"

Roxas had called out Oathkeeper, walking forward towards the closest chest with a wary stance.

Taking a closer look, he saw a number of them had padlocks on them. Wanting to see what's up, he twirled his Keyblade before popping the lid off of one of them. In mere seconds, the padlock glowed before unlocking itself. Once fallen on the ground, Roxas opened the lid, revealing their contents.

A pair of glowing, red curved eyes.

Realizing that it was Heartless, Roxas jumped back calling forth Oblivion as the Chest shuddered about.

The lid reshaped itself into jagged teeth with three whitish-silver legs sprouting out from the bottom.

It wasn't long after till more chests throughout the chamber violently shook as their padlocks broke open before they reformed into the new enemies before them.

Roxas squinted at them momentarily, taking back his prior belief of these chest-like creatures being Heartless. Something was… off about them.

They did not exude the type of darkness that normal Heartless would and for that matter, he had seen Chest-type Heartless before. They were more toy-like in appearance. These ones, however, were not.

Especially the emblem's suddenly appearing on the lids was not that of the Heartless, but of something else.

Something… familiar to Roxas.

-Insert Kingdom Hearts 2 Dance of the Daring-

The chest-mimics were not alone as sleek, angular blue and purple-like imps suddenly swirled out of the floor and spasmed at every other moment.

Their eyes were red and their limbs were pointed with no distinct digits. And jotting out of their heads were two long, jagged lighting bolt-shaped antennae reminiscent of the emblem Roxas just saw moments ago.

And they were all certainly twitchy to say the least.

"What are they?" Thoros asked aloud in concern. "They don't look like the Heartless we've seen earlier."

"They're not Heartless, that's for sure." Cloud stated quickly.

Beric all the while was paling slightly.

"It can't be." Was all he muttered before a purple-like imp leaped right at him. With a swing of his sword, he cleaved it in half before backing away from one of the Spiderchests rushing towards him.

"Beric?" Thoros looked over to his friend who was holding up his sword in a defensive manner. He casted Fira onto a bundle of the newly appeared enemies before slashing at an incoming one.

"I had thought these bastards to be gone." Beric groused out.

"You know what they are?" Cloud asked in surprise.

The Spiderchest tried to bite at him with the yellow teeth serving as the creases on the lid and bottom. Acting quickly, the Lord of Blackhaven lunged his sword into the creature and had his blade ignite with flames. It spasmed before it turned into dark vapors.

"Aye." Beric grunted out, swinging his sword about as another one of these twitchy individuals was using their strange physical behavior to dodge his blade.

His opponent was then cut in half courtesy of Roxas.

Straightening himself out, Beric turned to face the rest of these new foes with a resolved steel.

"The Unversed have returned."

"Unversed." Roxas said to himself, gazing upon the now identified enemies with a feeling of overwhelming recognition.

He… he had faced these enemies before!

He knows he has…

Right?

Shoving this question aside, No. XIII was quick to assist his companions against their current enemy.

Cloud thrusted his blade forward, eliminating several of the chest creatures and swung horizontally a moment later to cut one of those imp creatures.

'Flood.'

The name drifted subconsciously in Roxas's mind as he engaged the Unversed.

One of the chests barreled itself at Roxas who threw up his Keyblades in an X-shape and sliced through it.

'Spiderchests.'

When a number of Floods came charging at Roxas, the Keybearer jabbed Oathkeeper into the air and called out a spell.

"Water!"

In an instant, a swirl of clear water appeared all around him and crashed into the Unversed. Before they had the chance to recover, the Nobody jumped into the air and slashed right through them.

Thoros tried to cleave through some of the Flood, but they were quick to slink into the floor and zoom across the surface like an unnatural shadow. The Red Priest was struck from behind by one of them as he was distracted.

"Thoros!" Beric called out to him yet he was forced to focus on the set of enemies he was fighting.

"I got him." Roxas leapt over from his spot and came crashing down on the flood that tried to finish the priest.

Clearing the small area around them of the Unversed, Roxas turned to his injured companion.

"This should help." Was all Roxas said before casting Cure on the Red Priest. With the green aura briefly encompassing the man, Thoros thanked the Keybearer before charging in with his sword ignited in flames.

Striking a number of the Spiderchests, the priest from Myr let out a roar. Thrusting his enchanted sword through one, he casted Firaga at the ones coming near him. They were quick to burn, given their chest-like exteriors. They screeched when getting burned prior to evaporating.

Kicking the Unversed still impaled on his sword, Thoros was about to assist the others before something new entered the chamber.

A number of them were large, bottom-heavy creatures with predominantly blue skin. Their feet curled up at the toes and their conical arms with round silver, mitten-like hands. Their spherical heads sported two long antennae that sharply hook upward. The midsection was black with white highlights in a triangular pattern resembling teeth. And their red eyes were set in a happy expression with the Unversed emblem emblazoned on its belly.

Accompanying these larger Unversed were humanoid one that were predominantly blue skinned with three-fingered claws that were silver in color. Their heads were diamond-shaped and sported two short horns on either side of their heads. All had red eyes that were sorrowful in appearance with what Roxas assumed to be the Unversed symbol emblazoned upon its chest.

When he got a good look at them, both of these newcomers looked like they were evolved forms of the Flood.

'Bruisers and Scrappers.'

Again, their names appeared in Roxas's head, unnerving him to a degree as he shook his head as he got back into his stance before charging forward.

The Scrappers jumped at Roxas with him doing the same.

Once getting in close, he spun forward with a spinning slash to slice through the Scrappers. Landing on the ground, he threw his Oblivion up in time to block a punch from a nearby Bruiser.

He held it back, the pressure slightly pushing him when the pressure vanished as Thoros had come in to cut the arm off.

The Bruisers let out a small sound of pain, though it had no time to dwell on it as Thoros was joined by Beric a moment later with the two tackling the larger opponent. With their combined weight, they managed to bring the Bruiser down and finished it off with two swords embedded into its head.

Cloud all the while stood his ground and bent downward slightly, electricity crackling around him briefly.

Soon as he felt his power boost, Cloud literally glided above the ground and tore through the remaining Flood and Spiderchests.

His small assault was halted by one of the Bruisers that managed to hold back the large sword.

Though it was only a brief moment as Cloud unleashed his stored power with a small burst around him. It stunned the Bruiser with its arms raised leaving it defenseless.

With a quick diagonal cut, the Bruiser was no more.

Roxas ducked beneath a Scrappers swing, kicking it in the chest with Beric impaling it chest as soon as it fell to the ground.

Thoros was backing away from a Bruiser that kept swinging its fists at him, slashing at it after every dodge.

His back hit a wall, though this wasn't going to deter him.

The Bruiser swung its fist once more, bashing into the wall that Thoros was leaning on.

Several rocks and stones came down upon the Bruisers head, stunning it which allowed Thoros to take it out with a powerful swing to the back of its head.

Roxas jumped over a Scrapper, scrapping it in the air and landed on the ground with several Scrappers and Bruisers around him.

Instinctively, Roxas threw his Keyblades out to his sides.

"Watera!"

The Unversed were doused in water, a few taking damage and being eliminated while the rest were now soaked.

"Roxas." Cloud yelled out with the Keybearer wordlessly jumping out of the way just as Cloud threw his sword up.

"Thundara!"

Lightning reigned down upon the Unversed, the Scrappers and Bruisers getting a higher dosage of voltage as the water they were soaked with reacted quite violently.

A few moments later, the Unversed were destroyed, leaving the chamber the group stood in to be empty of enemies.

They had slouched slightly, taking a moment to regroup.

Though the moment lasted only a short second with Roxas looking to the others.

"Those were the Unversed?" Roxas asked in bewilderment. "Would anyone tell me why an enemy long thought dead isn't?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." Cloud said firmly. "One thing's for sure, Robert and the Small Council are not going to like hearing this."

"Aye." Came the simple, grim response from Beric.

Thoros, meanwhile, was silent once again.

He had a greatly troubled expression that went unnoticed by the others as they were looking at something else.

"What do you make of these chests?" Beric questioned, pointing towards the ones lining up the far off wall. "Are more Unversed present within them?"

Roxas stepped forward. "I'll check 'em, but be ready."

Being careful this time, Roxas kept both Keyblades out in case of anything. Coming up one of them, he instinctively twirled Oblivion and smacked the chest's lid. With the padlock magically unlocking itself, the Keybearer pried the lid opened.

Instead of red eyes, he saw something else inside.

Roxas repeated the same process on the rest of the chests present in the chamber. The others came up, peered inside and saw their contents.

"Well I'll be… fine silks and gold." Thoros muttered out. "Jewels too."

"And there's fine leathers in this one." Beric pointed out. "Haven't been crafted yet as well."

"Why would these be down here anyways?" Thoros asked.

"We've learned not to ask these kinds of questions." Cloud admitted, reaching down to grasp some of the jewels. "Just take 'em for what they're worth cause they're useful to us."

The Lord of Blackhaven reached in to pull out a silk garment, with his mind flashing over to the thought of his betrothed. Some might be a nice gift for her when he sees her next.

With the threat no longer present in the chamber, Beric pondered for a few moments before giving his thoughts. "These might perhaps be smuggler chests."

"Excuse me?" Roxas asked aloud.

"No, he's right." Cloud jotted in, agreeing with the Lightning Lord. "Wouldn't be the first time dealing with this."

Cloud should know that given part of his profession, he would no doubt come across them in the unlikeliest of places.

"And how would you know of them being smuggler chests?" Came Roxas' inquiry.

"I met a former smuggler by the name of Davos Seaworth." Said the Lord of Blackhaven. "His House was relatively new after the man practically saved Storm's End from hunger when they were blocked off by Tyrell forces. He smuggled in salted beef and onions for everyone there in the cover of night through Shipbreaker's Bay and when the Rebellion ended, the man was given lands and titles for his services by Lord Stannis himself."

"That's quite the accomplishment." Cloud commented.

"It is, only he did have to lose four of his fingers as a price to make it happen."

"Wait… what?!" Roxas said out of surprised shock.

Beric explained the reason. "Lord Stannis was grateful for the generous act of the man, but he still had to follow the law towards smugglers. Instead of losing his life, Davos lost four of his fingers above the highest joint as payment. After all, one good act doesn't wash out the rest." He then got to the point of the matter. "When I had the chance, I chatted with the newly made lord and learned a good deal on smugglers. One detail pertains with hiding dens."

"And a smuggler thought this place would be good enough to hide his goods?" Thoros chuckled out. "It might as well be with hardly no one showing up here."

"Bad news for them that this place will no longer be one much longer." Cloud added in, earning nods from the two natives of this World.

Off to the side, Roxas pondered to himself and questioned something.

Throughout his life, the greater Nobody didn't question as to why the chests were lying about all over the place. He thought they were just the norm. And the same could be said when reflecting on Sora's memories as the Keybearer from Destiny Islands didn't bother asking about this at all.

Now, however, made him think otherwise.

Here, there's an actual excuse with the smugglers. But what of the other Worlds, where the chests were out in the open for him and Sora to have access to?

Now that he thought about it, there were always chests scattered across many Worlds that were just… there.

Did someone purposefully place them there for some apparent reason? Or was it at random? Some had to be, given they were out in the open in forests and caves while the rest were in residences.

Roxas grimaced, thinking that this would probably be a long internal thought process that would just end in a huge headache.

"We can come back here for the chests once we're done with this mission." Roxas said to the others.

Cloud nodded. "There's no point in lugging them around."

The silk and leathers would be a bit of a team effort. As for the gold and jewels -to which some seem to be synthesis materials- can be taken care of by both blonde fighters with their Moogle pouches.

Accepting the idea, Beric and Thoros trekked onward from the chamber with Roxas and Cloud not far behind in order to continue on with their mission.

-Vaes Dothrak-

The sacred city of the horse lords was quite a beautiful place. The only city the Dothraki will ever have as they did their best to have it blend with nature itself.

Despite there being a large number of huts sprawled all over, there were buildings spanning for miles. One did not look like another as each was unique. Carved stone pavilions, mances of woven grass as large as castles, rickety wooden towers, stepped pyramids faced with marble, and log halls open to the sky being the few examples in the city's architecture.

All of them weren't built by Dothraki hands but by slaves. Reason why being the Dothraki considered it a sin to personally dig up the earth and use it's materials to make the structures. But they did have a work around, hence the slaves.

There is a purpose for the ever expanding city without walls and limits. When the time comes for the Great Khal to come into the world, every other Khal in Essos will come here and prepare to "mount" the world under their mighty leader.

At the present time, Dany was in her hut as she was relaxing for the next day or so. She was told shortly after arriving here by one of her husband's bloodriders that he won't be with her for the time being. When asked, Dany learned Drogo needed to travel and ascend the Mother of Mountains this night to perform some sort of ritual. It would only be on his return that the next ones would be performed; not before but after.

On another note, only men were allowed to set food on the Mother of Mountains. This made Dany feel a little relieved and rather refreshed in having a night, perhaps two, to herself.

With all that free time to herself now, the Targaryen wondered what she could do in order to relieve herself of boredom.

Dany thought about working on her swordsmanship, reflecting on the ways Xion trained her in. She had been laxing on them for a while now, probably giving her the excuse to get back into it… for a time… when it becomes hard for her to do so without complications.

Dany rubs her stomach instinctively when that crossed her mind.

She was surprised to learn she was pregnant, soon realizing her child was conceived either on her wedding night or shortly after. Her emotions were currently riding in a whirlpool, seeking safer waters or even solid ground in order to properly stabilize herself.

Dany was frightened, yet happy. It was a foreign concept for her to experience now; being a mother. She was never raised by her mother, due to her dying when delivering her into the world.

Taking a glance to the side of her tent, Dany walked over, opened the small box and peered inside to look upon her mother's crown.

The exiled Targaryen wondered what her mother would think of right now, seeing her like this. Would she be happy to have a grandchild from her only daughter? Would she be appalled with what's become of her, being the wife of a Dothraki? Some part of Dany probably thought so on both self-given questions.

The Valyrian descendant hoped she could be a good mother one day. She wanted to at least treat her child well, hopefully guiding it well into being a good person.

Closing the box containing her mother's crown, she thought of some of the people close to her of their current whereabouts.

Jorah was presently exploring the markets for his own personal means, something Dany didn't bother prying into. Irri was asked to help get a bath ready as Dany wanted to feel clean after a long journey. Doreah was sent out to speak with Viserys, asking him to dine with her tonight. For a rare occurrence, Dany wanted to have a nice time together as they haven't done so since their years in Braavos. Jhaqui was sent out to the bazaar in order to procure fruit and meat… well anything but horse meat for tonight's meal.

"Horse meat is best." Jhaqui said to her khaleesi. "Horse makes a man strong."

"Viserys hates horse meat." Dany said earlier.

"Then he is weak."

Dany, Xion and the handmaidens laughed at this.

As for Xion, she was out patrolling the border for Heartless, as per usual. She would've gone out to properly explore the bazaars of the Eastern and Western markets, but the Keybearer wanted to do so with her.

Dany thought it was really sweet on the considerate gesture.

She was brought out of her thoughts when she heard someone enter her hut. Looking over, the Targaryen saw it was Irri.

"Khaleesi," spoke her handmaiden, "your bath is ready."

Before Dany went to disrobe herself to take her scalding-hot bath, which was just the way she liked it, both she and Irri heard some commotion outside.

Neither of them got the chance to look outside for Viserys stomped inside as he dragged in a crying Doreah roughly by the hair. And taking a glance at her pretty face, she was developing a black eye on the left portion on her face.

"How dare you send this whore to give me commands? I should have sent you back her head!" Viserys screamed, face contorted into a mad snarl.

"F-Forgive me, Khaleesi." Doreah pleaded with tears streaking down her face. "I-I did as you asked."

"Hush now, Doreah. It's alright." Dany soothed sweetly before turning to her other handmaiden present. "Irri, take her and leave us."

Irri didn't voice her response as she quickly grabbed her fellow handmaiden and quickly left the tent.

The moment those two left, Dany whirled at her older sibling with anger streaking through her veins like a bolt of lightning. "Why did you hit her?!"

"How many times do I have to tell you? You do not command me."

"I wasn't commanding you. I just wanted to invite you to supper." Dany argued.

Viserys ignored this, looking around the room until his eyes landed on a bundle of clothing laying neatly at a table to the side. "What's this?"

"It's a gift. I had it made for you." She answered, smiling lightly.

The clothing was made to her brother's measure. Tunic and leggings of crisp white linen, leather sandals which laced up to the knee, a bronze medallion belt, and a leather vest painted with fire-breathing dragons. There was even a sand silk cloak, green as grass, with a pale grey border that would bring out the silver of his hair.

The Dothraki would respect him more if he wore it, at least she hoped she did. A small price to pay if he would wear their custom attire.

Instead of being pleased with it, Viserys' anger returned with a vengeance. "Dothraki rags? Are you going to dress me now?!"

"Please-"

"This stink of manure!" He threw the bundle at Dany, who slapped it away. "All of it!"

"Stop! Stop it!"

"You would turn me into one of them, wouldn't you?" He accused her, throwing more objects at her. "Next you'll want to braid my hair?!"

"You have no right to a braid. You've won no victories yet!"

The Beggar King gasped. "You do not talk back to me!" He roared and charged at his sister. She attempted to defend herself, but he was too quick with the slap across her face. He takes her by the wrists and throws her down on the floor to mount her, keeping her in place. He then spoke in a crazed whisper. "You are a horse lord's slut! And now you've woken the dragon-"

As he spoke, Dany grasped onto the nearest object lying on the floor, which so happened to be a golden chain which was on the table earlier. Having a firm grasp of it, she whipped it across her brother's face. This made him fall back and cry out in pain with a cut present on his face. To add more damage onto his "handsome" face, she quickly struck him across the jaw with a right cross.

Dany stood up, tall and proud as she snarled at her sibling. "I am a Khaleesi of the Dothraki. I am the wife of the great Khal Drogo and I carry his son inside me." Her shorter stature seemed to grow larger than him now as she loomed over the fallen, cowering dragon. "The next time you raise a hand to me will be the last time you have hands!"

After several moments, her elder brother bolted out of her hut and went to parts unknown.

Daenerys couldn't help the frustration and sadness building inside her. Her brother, who had been so kind and caring when they were young, now crazed and broken. Possibly beyond from saving.

She wanted to take her mind off of things and calm herself from her whirlwind of anger. Walking back to the table, she opened the box containing the three dragon eggs. Prying them out of their confinement, she went to the nearby bed, brought the petrified eggs close and cradled them like they were her children.

For a while now, she's been feeling stronger, braver even. Dany can say it began with Xion's presence in her life and pushing her in the right direction in not wanting to be the defenseless little girl under her abusive brother anymore. But the exiled Targaryen was getting more of a shove as of late with these three stone dragon eggs in her possession.

It was as if she were drawing strength from the dragons locked inside.

Even though she was a little over two months pregnant, Dany had this phantom feeling her unborn child was trying to reach out to both her and the three eggs. It was a pleasant feeling for her as if her child was reaching out to the eggs like if they were siblings.

Dany couldn't help but chuckle on the idea.

-Sewers of King's Landing-

"The sooner we finish up here, the better." Beric remarked, holding up his wrist where his cloth and armor was in tatters.

"Hopefully the end will not be much farther." Roxas said, he himself is getting rather tired of the repetitive pathways with the ever present stream of literal shit.

Charm or no charm, this place was still disgusting.

Exploring the sewer system was not all that was cracked up to be. They had to back track several times, given certain passageways were blocked off. When looking in the map on hand, they quickly realized said passages would've helped drain the sewage a whole lot, given the high levels of filth present.

Most were quickly remedied with Roxas bashing through them with ease, thus the draining process started to go smoothly to some degree. The others were harder to deal with, thus the sewage workers would have to deal with them at a later time.

There were even some moments when the group had to work through several pipe mechanisms to raise and lower the sewage levels. Those were rather tricky, puzzling in all honesty to get things right for them to traverse further and further on their path.

Asides from that, the four were met with the various appearances by both Heartless and Unversed, which added more annoyance to their struggles. One such Unversed were these bat-like creatures, quickly named Axe Flappers, who would be hiding from the ceilings and attack when the group least expected it.

"At least consider those leathers we found earlier as replacements for what you're wearing now."

"Agreed." Beric said.

They continued walking through the corridor, looking around with their weapons drawn all the while. No point in putting them away by this point after having dealt with Heartless and Unversed repeated by now.

"What are we even looking for?" Beric voiced aloud.

"A sphere of Darkness, a Nexus." Roxas explained the confusion of both Beric and Thoros. "Something like the heart or the nest where all the Heartless and possibly Unversed stem from."

Cloud then added in the rest. "We take care of that, then the sewers will be clear of them for who knows how long."

"So it won't rid the city of the Heartless?"

"Unfortunately not." Roxas admitted. "But at the very least, their presences will be severely diminished."

"Well, that's better than nothing." Beric said.

For the upteenth time, Thoros said nothing.

Exhaling a sigh, Cloud decided to speak something across his mind. "You seem rather quiet, Thoros. You have something to share with the rest of us?"

"I… have just been thinking on these foes." Thoros said with a low voice. "When I had first arrived in Westeros those many years ago, I had only heard rumors of those creatures called the Unversed. At first I had assumed them to be related to that which lies beyond the Wall in the North."

This of course confused Roxas and Cloud.

"What?" Roxas tilted his head.

"What's beyond this Wall?" Cloud asked.

Thoros regarded them both with a rather grim expression.

"There's something beyond the Wall in the North, something dark, ancient and terrifying. I never thought much of it when I still lived in Myr as I never put much faith into it. But as of late, I'm starting to think all of the lessons I've been taught are actually real."

As Thoros spoke, Roxas thought back when he met the man named Mance Rayder on the night when King Robert's retinue first stayed in Winterfell. He doesn't know the man all that much, given they only interacted once, but there was something the man was hiding from him.

Mance spoke of an ancient threat, dismissed by many as it was presently regarded as myth. Something far more terrifying than Heartless. Something which is opposite to the side which Mance and his allies are on.

"And what would this threat be exactly?"

"Something that is against the side of the living." Was Thoros' response to Roxas' question.

'Against the side of the living?' Roxas repeated the phrase internally. What was that supposed to mean?

That was the other thing Mance mentioned, which left him in a small state of confusion. Him being on the side of the living.

"Roxas."

The young teen looked up to see Cloud with the other two had moved ahead.

"Come on, keep up."

"Right, sorry." Roxas said, jogging to catch up to the group.

When coming out of one tunnel, the group entered a very large chamber. It wasn't all that much, but there were a few things quite noteworthy.

For one, given what they remembered seeing on the sewer system map, this is the final area to which all of the city's waste is supposed to leave from. And given the blocked off spot at the far end of the chamber, that would be the final pipe that needs to be cleared. Especially with the large poolish-streams of filth encircling the chamber and meeting at the blocked off point.

The second would be the floating orb of darkness floating up towards the ceiling. And it was rather large and pulsating.

"Believe we're at the end of the road, guys." Roxas said, earning smiles from both Thoros and Beric.

"Glad to hear it."

After hearing Beric's simple remark, Roxas was about to take care of the Nexus floating above them. Yet he halted the action when Cloud held out his hand.

"Wait." Cloud said sharply, eyeing the pools of filth. "We're not alone."

The filth around them started to shift and churn. With each second, the group started to hear something… unnatural.

"Do you hear that?" Came Roxas' question.

The filth around them began to shift about and tremble until they started to converge together.

"I do."

"It sounds like crying."

"I'm hearing screams."

"And it's getting louder." Came Cloud's statement.

It wasn't long before the filth around them finally took form when the sounds became ever more prevalent.

This new arrival was something else, appearing as a massive goopy blackened mass which so much filth rolled off or was absorbed in mere moments. It's face within the slime was glowing in a saddened gesture with several pieces of stone appearing on top of it's head as the Unversed emblem appeared on the central slab.

"Oh Seven Hells, that's a Lump of Horror if ever there was one."

-Insert Kingdom Hearts 3: Unforgettable-

The gargantuan Unversed roared and moaned aloud as the team of four got into their stances.

"Keep your distance and move around it." Roxas instructed. "We don't know what this thing is capable of."

The Lump of Horror roared out, its viscous body moving forward while the four scattered away.

There was a trail of goop it left in its wake that dissolved quickly, though it made many more as it continuously rammed itself forward against its many foes.

"Roxas." Cloud called out, grasping his sword with both hands while holding it flat and horizontally.

Roxas jumped upon the sword just as Cloud began swinging it with all his might.

The older blond launched Roxas at full strength towards the lump of horror. Crossing his blades, the Nobody's form glowed with light and he slammed directly into the face of the Lump of Horror.

It groaned aloud in pain and anger, retaliating quickly with a pulse of its sludge body with Roxas being sent back from the shockwave.

The Unversed then pumped its body down to the ground beneath it, sending out more pools of sludge.

From those pools, goop-like hands shot out, surrounding the chamber.

"Oh boy." Roxas said.

"We'll handle them." Thoros declared, sword alight with fire. "You two focus on defeating the pile of shit."

The two warriors ran towards the multitude of slimy hands whilst Roxas and Cloud faced the main body.

They ran forward, multiple hands sprouting out.

Both reared their weapons were reared back yet the hands up and dispersed.

The two blonds were thrown off by the sudden disappearance only to get literally thrown back by the Lump of Horror crashing right into them.

While in the air, Roxas instinctively recovered.

Cloud simply backflipped and landed on his feet skidding to a halt.

Thoros and Beric were getting slapped around, unfortunately, as the hands greatly outnumbered them to a great degree.

They had only succeeded in taking out a few of them.

"Blasted slime." Beric growled out, flicking away some of the sludge off his hand as he and Thoros stood back to back.

"A whole new meaning of being hit with shit is at play here." Thoros quipped, breathing heavily as he had to reignite his sword.

Suddenly, several of the hands were cut through thanks to Cloud coming in with the assist.

"Greatly appreciated, Cloud." Beric said in relief.

Cloud said nothing as he casted Thundaga, electrocuting several lumpy hands trying to snag them. After they broke apart, the three went back into fighting their present adversary.

Roxas continued battling the Lump on his own, deflecting several lobs of sludges that were shot at him.

After taking care of those, Roxas ducked under the last orb of sludge before propelling himself forward and switched out OathKeeper with Winter's Howl.

Casting a Blizzard spell, it created a railing for Roxas to ride upon and get right up close to the Unversed.

However, it seemed to anticipate this attack and dived into the ground and sloshed underneath the oncoming Keyblade Wielder.

Roxas wasn't one to be deterred so easily, closing his eyes as he called upon his power as he landed upon the ground.

Light encompassing his form, Roxas brought his Keyblades back before zooming through the chamber. The Lump of Horror screeched in pain, more so when the trail of light kept zooming through it several times over as the source was performing the Sonic Blade attack.

The Lump of Horror bellowed out, unleashing another shockwave with its roar alone.

To add more damage onto the Unversed, Roxas was high into the air. Channeling a lot of magic into his Keyblades, they were coated with a dark energy. Bringing them together, he plummeted down as a large gravity sphere was formed. Once striking the Lump of Horror with the sphere, it pushed the Unversed down considerably as if it was being crushed. It wasn't long before an explosion occurred, blasting the caster's adversary all over the chamber.

Landing on the ground, Roxas gritted his teeth as he felt his arms ache.

'Don't know if it was a good idea to use Gravity Break with two Keyblades instead of one.' He thought to himself. 'I think my arms are gonna be numb afterwards.'

Using up several Ethers and Potions to replenish his reserves and health, Roxas saw the Lump of Horror reform itself. And once again, the Unversed dived into the ground yet something unusual happened.

The air within the chamber itself appeared to change, with a literal tint of color now being visible.

Pools of sludge appeared all over the ground and leaked out of the cracks within the walls.

The Lump Of Horror shot out from the center of the chamber; only this time, it had a very different look entirely.

It's new form was very slim, very defined as it spread its body over the chamber. It's head now loomed on top of it's thin body, with slime-like wings to the side. And it's glowing face became more menacingly with the sounds of crying and screams of agony echoing throughout the sewers.

"It changed?!" Thoros said aloud in shock.

"You'd be surprised at the number of Heartless we've encountered who can do that." Was all Cloud said before he leaped away from a large hand of lumpy filth crashing where he once stood.

Roxas however took it in stride, recalling Oblivion while holding Winter's Howl with both hands.

"Guess that means I'll have to do the same." Roxas said to himself, wind whipping up around him as his Keyblade glowed.

It burst apart into five pieces, four going to his limbs and the other to his head.

His wolf gauntlets, greaves and helmet formed around him with the Keybearer dropping down to all fours for a moment before jumping forward with his clawed hands reared back.

The Lump Of Horror began flapping its wings, sending up gusts of wind that slowed Roxas yet he was quick on his feet in the air.

With his greaves, they glowed in an icy-white aura with ice platforms forming beneath his feet allowing for him to run straight at the Unversed.

Once close enough, Roxas unleashed a flurry of icy attacks that left frosty wakes upon the Unversed.

It wailed, shaking about which increased in speed and aggression and finished with a loud roar that sent out a sludge shockwave.

More black-purpilish hands shot out from the pools of crap around the chamber, them being much larger than the previous hands.

Wanting to give his companions some more breathing room, as it were, Roxas focused a lot of power into his Formchange armor. His gauntlets glowed a bright purple color as they intensified with three gravity spheres appeared and condensed considerably.

"Transcendance!"

When the sphere's broke, the entire chamber felt different soon after for both ally and foe alike, as if gravity shifted and hurtled everything and spun rapidly out of their control. Both the Unversed and the humans were unable to comprehend what was happening when the gravitational pull caused them all to be flung in all directions, receiving damage from the casted spell.

Both Beric and Thoros crashed into the chamber's walls while Cloud was quick to recover by hanging onto his Fusion Sword, which was stabbed into the ground. The Lump of Horror, however, splattered all over the place as the light around them seemed to return to normal.

Roxas never expected to see the result of the spell being that powerful. He had started training to use it from what he found in the Keyblade Book. He was aware of the implications, but he just couldn't believe what just happened.

"What the hell was that, Roxas?" Cloud said to the Keybearer, who landed on the ground not far away from him.

"Something new." He said before casting Curaga onto his allies. "Something I really need more work on."

"NO SHIT!" Thoros growled out.

"That spell of yours doesn't seem to be enough, I'm afraid." Spoke the Lightning Lord, seeing the Lump of Horror reform itself.

Suddenly, Cloud felt a cool feeling emanating around his chest. Glancing down, the blonde mercenary saw a small light shining out from beneath his coat. Reaching beneath it, he pulled out the charm and saw it was glowing a blueish-white light as if calling out to him.

Eyes hardening, Cloud closed his hand around the Leviathan summoning charm and channeled magic through it. He felt the power building up from within as if wanting to be released.

"Come on out."

Light and watery wisps began emanating around the charm and Cloud's hand more brightly as he held it close to his chest.

"And do your thing."

With the call made, a large orb of light appeared over Cloud's form. Glyphs and runes circled around it before they and the orb disappeared, leaving a large pool of clear ocean water beside the blonde mercenary.

It wasn't long after till something bursted out of the pool of water, revealing a large serpentine-like dragon with deep blue scales along it's top while the rest was grey-blue on the underbelly. It's beak-like maw was rather slender compared to the jagged one it's Heartless counterpart had with two long fleshy whiskers flowing backward. Numerous spike-like fins ran along it's back with a pair of membrane-like wings jotting out of it's hunched over area with another near it's head.

The other combatants can only look on in either shock or awe at the summon as it's ocean-green eyes hotly bore at it's summoner's opponent. With a mighty roar, it sailed across the chamber and struck the Lump of Horror.

"HOLY FUCK!" Beric cried aloud. "IS THAT A DRAGON!?"

"Rather close." Was all Cloud said.

Thoros was rather dumbfounded at the sight while Roxas cheered loudly.

"You can do it, Leviathan!"

The Leviathan roared, flying straight at the Lump of Horror.

All around its form, torrents of water began forming with them spiralling into water spouts. They were swirling about rapidly and as Leviathan bypassed the Lump of Horror, the water spouts speared themselves into the Unversed.

The Lump of Horror flailed about in anger, thrashing around with it striking Leviathan with a powerful blow.

It cried out in pain yet the serpent remained afloat, accelerating itself forward.

A light appeared within the Leviathan's maw. It intensified and condensed with water surging around the summon. In an instant, the serpentine-dragon fired off a powerful stream of power, striking through the Lump of Horror and colliding against the blocked off hole on the other side of the chamber. It stood no chance as it broke through the compacted earth and went through to the other side, revealing a strong source of light pouring in with a lot of filth going down the recently cleared pipe.

And it wasn't long before the stream traveled upward, pierced the Nexus and destroyed it completely. After that, it struck the ceiling and broke through, bringing in another source of light.

When the Lump of Horror tried to reform itself, the Leviathan let loose a large cry as massive geysers of water exploded out of the floor and struck the Unversed, deluding it's form considerably.

Once the spectacle was done, the summon disappeared in wisps of water and light.

"Damn… Just damn…"

"You can say that again." Beric said to his friend.

As the two friends gawked, Cloud and Roxas didn't stand idly by. They knew it wasn't enough as they still saw the Unversed trying to reform one last time.

Rushing forward, the two blondes glowed a bright light. Channeling magic into their blades, both zoomed forward and started cleaving through the Lump of Horror with a series of Sonic Blades. The rave-like attack eventually ended before the two landed on each side of the Unversed. As Roxas threw his Keyblades to perform a surging Strike Raid, Cloud rushed forward and delivered a volley of spinning slashes and stabs before cleaving through the air to finish off his Ascension Limit Break.

Once both attacks ceased, the Lump of Horror screeched one last time as the monstrosity was destroyed, evaporating into nothing as the slug around the chamber went away.

Seeing the spectacle, Thoros let loose a bellow of a laugh as Beric let loose a series of chuckles.

"Finally, that blasted thing is gone."

"Good riddance."

Up above, a crowd was gathered around the large hole that formed in the ground.

There were murmurings all around as they had seen small puffs of dark dust burst out from the hole.

Suddenly, there was a loud rumbling and the hole began to crumble and expand. The assembled citizens of King's Landing scrambled back as quickly as they were able to as the floor beneath crumbled down into the Sewers below.

Once they had gotten far enough away, the ground stopped collapsing.

Dust was kicked up into the air, slightly obscuring everyone's view.

But not their hearing.

"Seven Hells, was that supposed to happen?"

"I think all our fighting finally made the chamber collapse."

"Oh God's, I lost my charm! Urk! The smell! The smell!"

"I'd offer you mine but…"

"Please, please!"

The crowd saw four shadowy forms within the dust, coming out from the sewers below.

"How the hell did we get up here so fast?"

"Do you want to question that now?"

"I…"

"Don't know or care. I want that fresh air, now!"

"Not really. I'm just glad we're out of there. I need an immediate bath. A week will do."

"Right after I get back down there and grab those chests."

"Will you just forget about them for one moment and get those at a later time?"

"NEVER!"

The dust began to settle with the four silhouettes becoming clearer.

The citizens of King's Landing soon saw the four forms of Roxas, Cloud, Beric Dondarrion and Thoros of Myr… and all four of them were covered with black, disgusting goop that couldn't quite be explained.

And it was rank, practically causing a number of nearby small folk to throw up because of it.

"I need a bath." Roxas said aloud. "And some food."

"I'm jumping into the ocean to get most of this off first." Thoros said, tossing aside a piece of his torn clothing.

"I'll join you." Beric grumbled out.

"Same." Was all Cloud said before the four went onward to do just that.

There was one thing for sure, their task was complete and soon enough, the city will have a far cleaner future ahead of them… at some point.

-Nightfall, Vaes Dothrak-

Dany didn't know how long she slept in her bed, cuddling the three dragon eggs up to her bosom. It didn't matter all that much as she had this sense of relief covering her like a very warm, silky blanket. It was almost just as good as all of the nights when Xion hugged her close in their slumber for safe comfort, back when they were once at Illyrio's manse and the rare times after her wedding.

Shortly after waking up, she was met with Jorah and Xion as they conversed with each other inside of Dany's hut. She had to tell them what occurred earlier that day with what went on during their absence.

"I hit him." Daenerys said, her voice awed in admittance. "I hit the dragon."

"For the second time, Dany." Xion said with a smile, feeling utterly proud for her friend. "Don't forget what happened at the grass fields."

Jorah held back a snort. "Your brother Rhaegar was the last dragon. Viserys is less than the shadow of a snake."

"A worm, most likely." Added in the former puppet.

"He is still the true king." Daenerys said.

Jorah and Xion shared a glance with each other before looking at the Targaryen. "The truth now: do you really want to see your brother sitting on the Iron Throne?" Jorah asked.

Dany released a tired sigh. "No. But the common people are waiting for him. Illyrio said they are sewing dragon banners and praying for his return."

Xion spoke up next. "Dany, you probably should have realized this by now, but Illyiro doesn't know what he's talking about. That cheesemonger of a host kept feeding your brother all those lies in order to gain a huge favor for him if Viserys ever were to take back your ancestral throne. Though I might be wrong and there could be some regions and Houses waiting for Viserys, but I doubt he'll fulfill his promises to any of them; seeing them as a means to an end."

Jorah nodded, agreeing with Xion's words before adding in ones of his own. "And the common people pray and wish for rain, health and a summer that never ends. They don't care what games the high lords play."

"They probably would if it pertains to their wellbeing." Xion quickly said, earning yet another nod from the exiled Westerosi.

Pondering to herself, Dany wondered what else wasn't told to her. What truths and lies were given and which ones were held back? One topic, however, quickly surfaced and was thought over.

She learned that her father was a warrior who fought gallantly in the Stepstones during the War of the Ninepenny Kings, or the fifth and final Blackfyre Rebellion to some. Viserys spoke tales of their father, on how reputed he was throughout the realm as he could've come close to how good he was as Ser Arthur Dayne or Ser Barristan Selmy back in his prime. And that he was as good a king as he was a knight, chivalrous as he was noble.

But... But was all of that the truth or not?

Dany learned from both Illyrio and Viserys that upon his coronation, her ambitious father declared he wished to be the greatest king in Westerosi history. Having so many goals in mind that it would probably make a Great and Wise king. Yet things happened, which did not make it so. Her father was called the Mad King, supposedly by the Usurper and his allies, to justify their actions and destroy her father's reputation.

The exiled Targaryen could probably blame her father's advisors, who could've lied and misled him. Yet once again, Dany didn't know if that was the truth or a lie.

But what of her much older brother, Rhaegar. Could there be more about her late brother that she doesn't know of? She heard the bits of slander aimed at Rhaegar of him kidnapping Lyanna Stark, yet Viserys vehemently denied it saying their brother was a good person and that everyone who knew him loved him. But that might not be the case.

Seeing the distress in her friend's visage, Xion came up to her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, making the Targaryen look at her. "You didn't know any of that, Dany, because the truth was kept from you. Viserys was just so desperate to regain the Iron Throne, he shut out all of the actual truths and only listened to the ones he accepted before feeding all of that onto you for as long as you can remember."

Hearing all this, Dany wondered even more. Was she truly put in the wrong, due to her brother's guidance and teaching?

...Xion was right, she honestly should've realized this sooner than later. She should've considered that. Her brother kept on throwing tantrums and never really accepting things as to what they truly were like he was just a spoiled child.

The Targaryen girl remembered Xion telling her of Organization XIII, a group she used to work for prior to meeting her and her brother in Pentos, which was practically a small sellsword company specializing in taking out Heartless.

Xion faithfully served the Organization as she had nowhere else to go and no other purpose. But after getting close and becoming best friends with two of her fellow associates, Axel and Roxas, she eventually started learning a whole number of truths beneath the lies set upon both her and her fellow Keybearer. Through a series of circumstances, which Xion didn't want to fully get into, her friend was forced to leave them.

Keep telling enough lies, then no one will ever recognize the truth. After all, what is the cost of lies? For every lie we tell incurs a debt to the truth. Sooner or later, that debt is paid.

After some moments of silence, digesting the information going through her now, she asked the Mormont a simple question. "What do you wish for, Ser Jorah?"

"...Home." Jorah replied.

Memories flooded his mind of a snow-covered field. A castle sitting atop a small hill with frozen lakes, a dense forest and smaller waterfalls surrounding it. A proud father smiling at him, handing over his ancestral Valyrian steel longsword that he didn't deserve. An aunt lovingly embraced him as they celebrated their life.

Jorah's heart yearned to go back, but he knew he could not. For he lost that right when he decided to break his oaths for a wife who never really loved him.

"And you, Xion?"

The former Organization member was quiet for several moments, images of her sitting alongside Axel and Roxas on the ledge of Twilight Town's Clock Tower. Them laughing, shoving and recounting experiences as they ate their sea-salt ice cream. All three of them went on missions together and spent time with one another whenever they were able to.

"Home is where the heart is." Was the Keybearer's response. "And my friends are my home. That's all I want, Dany."

Dany smiled a little upon hearing this. Said smile soon went down as she looked away from Jorah and Xion. "I wish for home as well, but my brother will never take back the Seven Kingdoms. He couldn't lead an army even if my husband gave him one. He'll never be king, let alone taking us home." She said solemnly.

Despite the solemn atmosphere, Dany was finally starting to realize the truth of the situation. It was a bitter taste to swallow, but at least she wasn't going to lie to herself as that would only be detrimental.

"Perhaps a Queen shall." Xion said as she looked at her.

"Do you… think that's possible?" Daenerys asked in a surprised curiosity.

"Anything is." Jorah said as Daenerys nodded with a small, weak smile was forming.

-Sewers of King's Landing-

In the exit chamber of the sewer system, everything was flowing a whole lot better now after the majority of the blocked off areas were cleared out. The flow of filth has drastically gone down after the actions of Cloud, Roxas, Thoros and Beric.

It would not be long before cleanish water flows through the pipes after so many years. Not to mention the smell being a whole lot better.

Hardly a sound was heard, only that of the water flowing out of the exiting pipe towards the ocean outside.

That is, until, a series of footsteps came into this final chamber.

Exiting out of the tunnel leading up here. A dark cloaked figure walked into the chamber's very center. A pulse emanated off their form soon after, spreading throughout the space and heading back through the tunnel.

Suddenly, streams of darkness came off the walls, water and of the very air. It all rushed towards the dark figure like a tidal wave throughout the entire sewer system. The darkness encompassed the being as screams and cries can be heard along the very air before it all fell silent.

When the darkness dispersed, the dark figure let out a series of chuckles.

"Soon, very soon."

With that shortly said, a Corridor of Darkness enveloped the being before disbursing, leaving no trace of their presence in the chamber.

-End Chapter-

AN:

It's been a while, huh? It most certainly has.

Well things are gonna be interesting in the coming chapters in what free man writer and I have planned out.

Sorry for not getting this chapter done sooner. This past month has not been great for me as I've been hitting several blocks here and there dealing with personal family problems. I will not get into details as I don't feel it's right to talk about it.

Asides from that, I recently put out a new story I adopted… once I did a massive clean up on it. Naruto: Shinobi of Sorrow was an old joint project I did with LightDarknessReborn some years ago and had wanted to get back into it at some point. But now I think I can possibly work through it to some degree, even if the process will be long and struggling.

Free Man Writer: Yeah, we've both been busy with a multitude of personal reasons on top of story related work. Aside from J returning to an old story, he and I have a few ideas that we've been discussing between one another and one that's one of the strangers ones straight up. It's in development right now which may come out… whenever it does. We have the ideas formed for the most part and maybe the first few chapters but the rest still needs time to fill out.

Jeb: Another thing to bring up, shout out to Chadwick Boseman. I already did one on my other story and on Avengers: Infinite Wars with that one being far better. And yes with said story idea developments… it will take a while to get released as what we have in mind is rather tricky and complicated.

Anyways, be sure to review this story guys! Would like the criticisms. Please and thank you!

R&R