(This was a very boring chapter for me to write. I was just wrapping things up. Starting from the next chapter, the Game of Thrones timeline will begin.)
Casterly Rock, Westerlands
Tywin Lannister sat behind his desk. Across from him sat his brother Kevan Lannister. Without a word, Tywin reached for a rolled parchment resting on the corner of his desk and tossed it onto the table between them.
"Read this," he said.
Kevan caught it mid air "What is it?"
Tywin replied "Details of what transpired in Kingslanding"
Kevan unrolled the parchment and began reading. His eyes moved swiftly, but the more he read, the more his expression changed—confusion giving way to disbelief.
"Robert gave 'The Three Sisters' to the North?" he muttered. "For ten years? And if they fail to hold them, they're to be returned to the Vale?" He looked up, startled. "Granting the dominion of a kingdom's land to another kingdom—this has never happened."
Tywin leaned back "No. And I knew Lord Stark would face no real consequence for attacking the islands, but this… this is beyond even my expectations."
Kevan lowered the parchment "This must have driven a wedge between Jon Arryn and Robert. If I were the Hand, I would have resign."
"There is chance that Jon Arryn may," Tywin said. "And if he will, Robert will name Eddard Cailstark as his replacement."
Kevan grunted "Eddard Cailstark is honorable. He won't act against us without reason."
"Precisely the problem," Tywin said, eyes narrowing. "He may not act against us, but his nephew? This only makes him stronger. The islands give Aryan Stark a military foothold in the Bite. A base. A dagger pointed at the Vale's throat."
Kevan said "And if he faces resistance there... we know what he did in Skagos."
Tywin nodded once. "He will wipe them all out. Replace them with his own men and women. And that territory, for all intents and purposes, will be his—not for ten years, but forever."
Kevan said with serious expression "What do you intend to do?"
"We have to bind them to us," Tywin said simply. "Eddard Cailstark has two daughters. Aryan Stark loves that family. He treats his cousins like siblings— more dearly, perhaps, than some love their trueborn siblings. If one of them is wed to Joffrey, he will not oppose us. Not openly."
Kevan hesitated. "Will Cersei agree? You once suggested Myrcella for Aryan Stark. Now one of Eddard's daughters for Joffrey? A cadet branch girl for the heir to the throne?"
"She will agree," Tywin said, voice low and cold. "She may not like it, but she will understand the necessity. We already have enemies. We cannot afford more."
Kevan asked "And the Dornish princess married to him? They are no friend to us. Do you think Aryan Stark will permit a match between one of his cousins and Joffrey?"
Tywin replied "If it comes from Robert, Aryan Stark will have no choice. The realm will call it a great honor."
_____________________________________________________________________
Winterfell, The North
Aryan's mother and wife sat across from him. He had called them to discuss the progress on a task he had entrusted to them—quietly arranging marriages for his cousins.
This wasn't about love or sentiment. It was about securing the North, making sure his cousins would not be dragged south, where they could be used against him. The wrong match could be a chain around his neck. He wouldn't allow that.
Aryan asked them "Mother. Arianne. How goes the task I gave you?"
Ashara was the first to speak. "It is done," she said simply. "The matches are set. We have been careful—no words have reached your uncles or their children. Even the houses we approached don't know it was us. Jaqen made sure of that."
Aryan gave a slight nod "Good."
Arianne leaned forward with a satisfied smile "Sansa to Artos Cerwyn. He's steady, dependable and has no grand ambitions. The Cerwyns have been loyal bannermen for centuries." She paused, giving him a knowing look. "The only challenge will be your Aunt Catelyn."
Aryan sighed "I'll handle Aunt Catelyn."
Ashara picked up where Arianne left off. "Arya to Theon Dustin. He's heir to Barrowton, and this match rewards William Dustin's loyalty." A pause. "The only obstacle is Arya herself."
Aryan let out a quiet chuckle. "Arya won't like it, but I'll handle her. Theon will suit her well."
Ashara arched a brow. "Will he?"
Aryan met her gaze "I've met him. He's brave, steady, but not overbearing. He won't try to cage her, and that's more than most men are."
His mother studied him for a moment before nodding. "Very well."
Arianne continued "Bran to Helyna Hornwood. It is a strong match, and it will bring Hornwoods close but not too close."
"Rickon to Alyce Ryswell," Ashara added. "It keeps House Ryswell tied to us, and will end their habit of playing on two sides."
Arianne smirked. "That leaves the last two—Beron and Alarra. Beron to Meera Reed. A marsh princess, practically. The Reeds have always been loyal, and this match will be a reward for their loyalty."
"And Alarra to Corton Umber," Ashara finished. "He's Smalljon's heir, and she'll be treated well."
Aryan sat back in his chair, considering it all. It was a good web, one that kept power balanced within the North without giving any one house too much sway. Most importantly, none of his cousins would be sent south.
"Good," he said finally. "I'll call Uncle Ned and Uncle Benjen. They'll both agree."
Arianne asked curiously. "And if they don't?"
"They will." His voice was firm.
Ashara gave him a knowing look. "And how will you make them agree? More importantly, how will you make Catelyn and Arya agree?"
Aryan smirked. "I can be quite... persuasive."
Ashara rolled her eyes warmly "You always find a way to get what you want," she murmured, half amused, half exasperated.
Arianne reached out, holding his hands "It's done, then."
Aryan glanced between his mother and wife.
"Yes. And thank you. You've taken a burden off me."
Arianne raised her chin slightly, lips curling. "The first day I met you, I told you there was no one better than me."
Aryan chuckled the warmly "And you were right, my lovely wife."
The talk of marriage alliances had wound down, and for a time they let the conversation drift to lighter things—old memories, small gossip, a touch of dry humor.
But Aryan's mind returned to an unfinished business.
He turned to his mother. "Mother, I asked you to do one more thing," he said. "How is Sansa's teaching going?"
Ashara didn't answer right away. She took a slow sip of wine, set the cup down carefully, and looked at him.
"You know it's not easy," she said at last. "That Septa filled her head with nonsense for years—songs, dreams, gallant knights, golden princes. It takes time to unlearn all of that."
Aryan sighed. He was not surprised, but he was still disappointed. "Is there any progress?"
Ashara nodded. "Some. She is still very soft and naive, but she has begun to listen. She asks questions, even if she doesn't always like the answers."
Arianne, draped lazily in her seat, offered a smirk. "And what of her dreams of gallant knights and golden princes?"
Ashara's lips curved "I am nudging her toward the truth. Slowly. I tell her one story at a time. With enough of a push, those dreams will die quiet deaths."
Aryan allowed himself a brief moment of satisfaction. "Good. She needs to be strong. The Cerwyns may be richer now, but they still need more than a songbird for their next lady."
"She won't be one," Ashara said firmly "Not if I have anything to say about it."
He studied her face. His mother did not deal in comforting lies. If she said it could be done, then it would be done.
"She is watching us now," Ashara continued. "Me. Arianne. She sees how we speak, how we move, how we act."
"I told her about Elia," she added with quiet voice. "About how her kindness and courtesy did not save her."
Arianne asked "And how did she take that?"
"She said nothing," Ashara replied. "But I saw her hands. She clenched them so tight I thought she would draw blood. She is beginning to understand."
Aryan leaned back in his chair, gaze distant. "She'll need more than understanding. She'll need to act."
"She has started," Ashara said. "She speaks with Marwyn now. Listens when Arianne handles household accounts. Small steps, but important ones."
Ashara spoke "Not everyone is like you, Aryan. Not everyone can move at your pace. Not everyone changes in a single season."
Arianne chuckled softly. "You do love Sansa in your own way."
Aryan glanced at her, then at his mother. "Right now, I only care that she survives. The time for love will come after the war in the South... and after the war with the dead."
Ashara's eyes softened. "Then you have nothing to worry about."
There was a moment of quiet.
Then Arianne stretched, rolling her shoulders with a dramatic sigh. "Are we done? Or shall we start plotting the ruin of more childhood dreams?"
Aryan gave her a flat look. "I'm sure you would enjoy that far too much."
She grinned "Oh, undoubtedly."
Then their talks returned to lighter things.
______________________________________________________________________
Uncle Ned, Uncle Benjen, and their families had all arrived. There was quite a reunion between Aunt Catelyn and Sansa. Sansa was not as emotional—it was Aunt Catelyn who was. It seems his mother's teachings were working.
Aryan had summoned them all, without any explanation. Just a request to come to Winterfell for an important discussion.
Now they were here. Uncle Ned with Aunt Catelyn, Robb, Sansa, Arya, Bran, and Rickon. Then Uncle Benjen with Aunt Dacey, Cregan, Beron, and Alarra.
They had all gathered in Aryan's solar. His mother and wife were sitting in their usual place. And in the case of Arianne, she was almost lounging like a feline, perfectly at ease, with amused expression.
Uncle Ned was the first to speak.
"You've summoned us all, Aryan," he said "What has happened?"
Aryan nodded slightly. "Nothing urgent, not yet. But something that needs to be handled now."
Aryan continued "My father married in the south. Uncle Ned also married in the south, to gain the support of the Riverlands during the Rebellion. So naturally, everyone expected me to marry in the North."
He glanced toward Arianne. She offered no words, but her smirk deepened just slightly. She knows that one thing I'm about to say is nonsense.
"Then Prince Doran proposed we seal our alliance with a marriage. Other lords saw the wisdom in how much our holdings in Essos would benefit us—during summers, and especially during winters. So the lords of the North accepted it. That's how I ended up marrying Arianne."
He paused. No one interrupted.
Aryan continued "Everywhere south of the Neck, people see Uncle Ned and his family as members of House Cailstark. They see Uncle Benjen and his family as members of House Seastark. But here in the North, everyone sees you all as Starks. And that brings its own expectations."
He let that settle.
"Three southern marriages back to back. My father's, Uncle Ned's, then mine. Even if one more marriage happens in the south... the lords might not speak against it openly—because of me—but they'll grumble behind your backs. Whispering discontent."
Catelyn shifted in her seat. A small frown touched her lips.
"I have always wanted a southern marriage for Sansa," Catelyn said quietly. "I had even told Ned that, long ago."
Aryan looked at her. "Our relations with the Vale are ruined. King Robert gave us the Three Sisters and the Eyrie has not forgotten. They will not forgive for a long time. The Westerlands are under Tywin Lannister's control. The Reach has its own issues. And the Riverlands—well, we all know what happens there the moment war touches their borders. I'm not saying war will come. But if it does, they will be the first to bleed."
He looked at Sansa now. "So that leaves the Stormlands and Dorne. Both are far from the North. Do you really want Sansa to be sent away, so far from her home?"
"She was raised in that way," Catelyn said, still trying.
"She also has northern blood. And my mother will teach her everything she needs," Aryan countered. "And this is not the old North. Every house here is wealthy now. Trade, ports, mines, factories, everything. She'll want for nothing. She'll be comfortable. She'll be safe. She'll be close to her home."
He paused again.
"And all of their matches will be with heirs. Or daughters of the main line. No lesser cousins. No afterthoughts."
Arya spoke then. "Aryan, I will not marry."
Her voice was stubborn. "I don't want to sit in a gown while men talk about me like I'm a mare to be bred. I don't want to be a pretty lady who just sits in a castle and waits for her husband to come home." Her voice kept raising.
Aryan asked "And who told you that's what your life would look like?"
Arya scoffed. "I've seen marriages. And Septa Mordane made sure I knew what was expected. Sansa repeated it. And Mother..."
A quiet chuckle came from Arianne. "Oh, gods. Septa Mordane." She shook her head in mock horror. "That woman would've put a dragon in a dress if she could."
Aryan didn't smile. "Do you think she was right? Is my wife like what she told you women should be? Is my mother? Is Aunt Dacey?"
Arya looked to Arianne, who looked far too amused. Then to Ashara, who was calm. Then Dacey, who simply raised an eyebrow but said nothing.
"You've only seen your parents' marriage," Aryan continued. "And Aunt Catelyn was raised in the Riverlands. Things are different there. North and Dorne aren't like the rest of the Seven Kingdoms. Whoever you marry will not try to curb your freedom. I'll make sure of it."
Arya wasn't done. "And how will you make sure of it?"
"You don't know what a Stark marriage looks like when it's made on our terms," Aryan said. "You don't know what Dorne teaches its daughters. You don't know what I'll demand from your match."
Arya's eyes narrowed. "And what will you demand?"
"That you'll never be caged," Aryan said simply. "That the man you marry will never try to chain you. That he'll value your freedom."
"And he'll just do that?" Arya challenged.
"He will. I'll make sure that he understands it properly. Have I ever led you astray Arya?," Aryan said, without hesitation.
Arya stared at him, but said nothing. For once, she was quiet.
Aryan looked at everyone again.
"Marriage is one of the few things we nobles must do. And rarely is it for love. Take me and Arianne for example. We barely knew each other. Less than two weeks. But we married now. And I'll say this—" He looked toward Arianne. She smirked, not even pretending to look demure. "—it's going good."
"Their's is the most active match I've seen. They have surpassed Oberyn and Ellaria," Ashara murmured.
Catelyn looked like she wanted to disagree but couldn't find the words. Ned placed a hand over hers to comfort her. Benjen and Dacey, by contrast, were happy. They had always wanted northern marriages for their children.
Ned finally asked, "I agree with you, Aryan. Who do you have in mind?"
"Sansa to Artos Cerwyn. Arya to Theon Dustin. Bran to Helyna Hornwood. Rickon to Alyce Ryswell. Beron to Meera Reed. Alarra to Corton Umber."
He looked at each of them as he spoke their names.
"They're all heirs or daughters of the ruling line. Corton Umber is the eldest son of Smalljon Umber."
"You won't decide for me," Arya said quietly.
Aryan nodded. "I won't decide for you. You'll meet Theon Dustin. You'll talk to him. You'll see. Spend some time with him. And if you think he'll cage you, if he's the kind of man who would put a leash on you, then you come straight to me. I'll say no to William Dustin."
He paused and then added "But Arya, don't lie to me. I'll know if you do. And don't let that septa's words be the reason you chain yourself. If you let her decide your future, you're caging yourself before anyone else gets the chance."
Arya didn't object to meet Theon Dustin.
Uncle Benjen, Aunt Dacey, and Uncle Ned were already pleased with the matches. Aunt Catelyn looked quietly sad for Sansa. But none of his cousins, except Arya, looked unhappy.
And even Arya… wasn't angry. He can work with that. She is agreeable to meet Theon, and that's enough for him.
Arianne stretched like a cat, and said with a sly smile, "Well then, shall we send invitations to these lords, their daughters and their heirs?"
Everyone agreed.
But Arya met Aryan's gaze with the kind of look that promised this wasn't over.
Aryan thought Theon you better treat her respectfully, otherwise I will come after you. Maybe I should ask Uncle Ned to leave Arya here at Winterfell. Mother can teach her also. Also I am going to give Jaqen an order to deal with that blasted Septa Mordane.
______________________________________________________________________
Casterly Rock, Westerlands
There was a knock on the door.
Tywin didn't look up. "Enter."
A Lannister retainer stepped inside, bowed low, and held out a scroll sealed with plain wax. "From one of your eyes in the North, my lord."
Tywin took the parchment, broke the seal, and began to read.
He didn't speak. His eyes scanned the words in silence, then again. His jaw tensed, lips pressed into a thin line. After a long moment, he dropped the scroll on the table in front of Kevan.
Kevan picked it up and read quickly. His eyes widened.
He looked up, stunned. "Every single one of them is betrothed."
Tywin said nothing for a moment. Then in a cold voice murmured, "Before we could make a move… he has already sealed the North shut."
Kevan looked down at the list again. "He reached across to many major houses."
Tywin's gaze were cold and calculating. "He is uniting the North. There are no gaps to exploit. Doran has done the same with Dorne. And now they are together."
Tywin clenched his jaw "We could have had one of those girls. We should have had one."
His voice dropped even lower. "But Cersei delayed."
Tywin Lannister's eyes burned with the quiet fury.
______________________________________________________________________
Sunspear, Dorne
Oberyn could still hear the screams of Amory Lorch and Gregor Clegane. They were music to his ears.
Gregor Clegane had roared, furious and panicked, thrashing like a cornered beast, he even begged for death at one point. Amory Lorch had whimpered, wept, begged. Neither of them had died quickly. Neither of them had died clean.
Oberyn couldn't help but smile as he walked through the halls of Sunspear. The box in his hand contains gift for his brother. He was going to give his brother what they had both waited years to see.
When he stepped into the solar, Doran was seated behind his desk. Oberyn crossed the room and pulled him into a hug.
"I missed you, brother," he said.
Doran returned it with a small smile. "And I you."
Oberyn asked "So, how were things in the Seven Kingdoms while I was gone?"
Doran gave him the full picture—Aryan's attack on the Sisters, Jon Arryn's efforts to punish him and the aftermath. The gift of the islands to the North. Then the silence from Jon Arryn. The whispers rising again in the South.
After Doran finished, Oberyn started laughing "So. Your goodson did what he wanted, got what he wanted, and didn't face a single consequence."
"In short," Doran said. "Now he has placed a dagger at the Vale's throat, and the rest of the kingdoms are watching us again. I wanted to start training our people, but now I can't move large numbers. Not without drawing attention to us. So, I have to break it up in small batches, at different places."
Oberyn just looked ammused. "Well, you knew the kind of man he was before you married Arianne to him."
Doran sighed but didn't argue.
Oberyn asked "Where are Nymeria, Tyene, and Mellario?"
"In Winterfell," Doran said. "As you know they had all decided to stay there for now. They are doing well. Happy even. Aryan treats them as family, and Ashara has been helping. Arianne has settled in far better than I ever expected."
Doran gave him a look then. "Did you have anything to do with Clegane's death and Lorch's disappearance?"
Oberyn didn't answer. He just smiled.
Doran studied him carefully. From that smile alone, he understood. Oberyn hadn't kidnapped Amory Lorch. But he had killed him. Still, Oberyn didn't have the reach to kidnap him from Westerlands. Not without help. And certainly not enough to kill Gregor Clegane in his own keep.
Doran quietly said, "Aryan."
Oberyn again didn't say anything.
Then he reached for the box beside him and slid it across the table.
"Open it, brother."
Doran unlatched the lid.
Inside were two skulls. Stripped of flesh, boiled clean, but rough—scraped raw by blade or fire. Both were crushed and fractured at many places. One was abnormally large.
Doran stared.
"Are they…" he started.
Oberyn nodded. "Yes."
Doran didn't speak. He just looked at them. At the hollow sockets where eyes once were. His mind flashed to Elia's voice, her laughter, her warmth. And then to her screams.
He could guess what had happened. Aryan had taken Lorch, and then handed him over to Oberyn. That much was clear. But Gregor Clegane—he was buried. Officially, he had died in his sleep—quietly and painlessly.
But these skulls told another story. Gregor had suffered. The marks were too fresh. Too deliberate.
Doran's voice was quiet, uncertain. "How?"
Oberyn didn't answer.
For the first time since hearing of Elia's death, Doran felt the weight of his sister's and niece's brutal fate, lifting from him, and he cried.
He reached out and closed the box.
"When all the Lannisters are dead," Doran said with rage "I'll hang Tywin's head and these two in Sunspear for all to see. And when the sun sets, I'll bring them back here. Keep them in this room as a trophy."
________________________________________________________________________
Winterfell, The North
Aryan closed the door behind him. Ashara sat in the chair near the fire. Arianne was curled up, a fur draped loosely over her legs.
"How is Arya doing?" Aryan asked, crossing the room and sitting in the chair across from them.
"She is listening," Ashara said after a pause. "Which is more than I expected. I expected more resistance. She doesn't like the lessons, but she doesn't ignore them either. That's something."
"She still argues," Arianne added "Especially when she doesn't understand why. But she is smart. You can see her thinking, even when she is fuming."
Aryan leaned back in his chair. "Is she starting to understand what I told her? That she can't afford to be what she is now?"
Ashara met his gaze "She is beginning to see there's more to a woman's life than what her septa and Catelyn taught. She has started learning and that's more than what Lyanna did. You just don't want her ending up like Lyanna. Right?"
"Yes," he said. "I don't want her to have the same fate as Aunt Lyanna. I want her to think before she acts."
Ashara set her cup down and rose slowly, smoothing down her skirts. "She's learning. And like I said about Sansa, Arya will too learn in time."
"She accepted the betrothal on her own," Arianne added. "No one forced her. She spent time with Theon Dustin, and after that… she agreed. She's changing."
Aryan said "Good."