Shireen Baratheon
Burley Vale – Burley Hold
Shireen stared at the mountain keep, grey stone rising from the hillside, blanketed with moss and weathered by time, as it sat quietly above a modest village. People had gathered along the road leading to its gates, lining the path with wary eyes and cautious hope.
She rode at the front of the column, side by side with her husband. A dragon perched on each of their shoulders, wings tucked, eyes sharp. Pride warmed her chest, mingling with quiet joy as she looked upon the hill clans and the northern folk who had come to see Orys.
They all looked at them, both wide-eyed and weary, at Freefolk and the Dragons.
She couldn't blame them; dragons and direwolves. The dragons had been dead for two hundred years, and Direwolfs had been seen south of the Wall in a century. Although they weren't the only thing, the people stared wide eyes at the giants. The creatures of legend that now walked among them. All these amazing things were traveling with an army of Freeflok, men of House Baratheon, and loyal vassals of House Stark, all following a supposed Stark King.
"So, these are the mountain clansmen. It's true they all came to Burley." She asked Orys. "Indeed, Lord Durick Burley invited them after I sent them a letter that a Stark King would travel to his holdfast. Although I doubt the man expected to find direwolves, giants, dragons, and Freeflok with men." Orys chuckled before adding. "I know two of the lords, Brandon Norrey and Old Flint Vorrin, both of whom I met when I wed Alys Karstark to Sigron Then."
She nodded. It was an odd sight, the number of people waiting for them. She at least thought there were a thousand. She hadn't expected as much. Then, most of the men who had gathered to wait for them wore mail and thick pelts of fur. Orys had been right. If her father had listened to him, he might have had these men, and these weren't even all of them. Most would probably still be in their own lord's lands. Yet her father had instead trusted Arnold Karstark. Which had cost him in the end.
As they approached the keep, the gates opened, and they rode into the courtyard. Those who had gathered knelt. Orys dismounted and helped her down, offering her a warm smile. He handed Rhaenax to Rickon, who had joined him at his side.
"Please, rise," Orys said, his voice clear.
The hill lords stood as one, their eyes fixed on the dragons and on Ghost and Shaggydog, who waited silently behind them.
"Your Grace, welcome to Burley Hold," a tall, greying man said, blue eyes sharp beneath his furs. "Its hospitality is yours for as long as you wish it. I am Lord Durick Burley."
"Thank you, my lord," Orys replied. "I've long wished to see the hills where my great-grandmother grew up. Burley Hold and its lands are beautiful. I hope to visit again when summer comes." He clasped the man's hand in greeting. She saw an old man with a white beard smile at the comment. Seeing it his sigil, it was Old Flint Vorrin.
"Lord Brandon. Lord Vorrin," he said with a nod, clasping their hands in turn. "It's good to see you again."
"Lord Loden Liddle, Your Grace," said a big man with a thick black beard.
"Lord Liddle, a pleasure to meet you," Orys said with a respectful nod.
Soon enough, all the hill lords had greeted him.
"My lords," Orys said, turning toward the group, "allow me to present my wife and Queen Shireen Stark, formerly known as Shireen Baratheon. And my brother, Rickon Stark, Lord of Winterfell."
The lords gave them both respectful bows.
"Your Grace," Lord Burley asked, looking at Orys. As the man looked wearily at the dragons and Freeflok that had joined them in the courtyard. More gasped and arose as Wun Wun walked inside. "will you accept bread and salt?"
"We do," Orys replied.
"Your Grace, about these wildings and the giants. I thought they were tale tales I heard from Lord Vorrin and Lord Brandon. I must say I'm surprised. I didn't want to believe them. You are a Stark, and for that, I will hold my judgment until I hear your side of the story. I hope you have a good reason, Your Grace. Otherwise, the North would never accept their passing into our land. After all things they have done." Lord Burley stated as he waved forward the bread and salt.
"I have you, and the other lords will soon have them," Orys replied. Lord Burley and the others nodded gratefully. If giving the Freeflok a distrustful stare.
Bread and salt were brought forth and offered, sealing their guest right under ancient tradition. At least here, she had no doubt it would be an honor the more she spent here in Orys's homeland. The more she enjoyed and respected them. Not the spit of lies and distrust she knew in the South.
Not long after, they were led to their chambers. And at last, Shireen and Orys were alone.
"Well, that went well," Orys noted. "Although I think they were just respectful. Yet I have no doubt they will argue with me about the Freefolk and want them to leave. I suppose they will also want to know how I was able to leave the Night Watch, so let's not forget how I obtained the dragons." At that, Rhaenax and Goldwing chirped, and she nodded in agreement.
"Indeed, little ones." She said as she rubbed them both under their chin. "I have no doubt they will. Do feel them, too. Sliverwing wishes for another ride. She doesn't like the distances."
"I know, but we have spoken of it. I want the North to rally to me, not just for a winning side. I want to know who I can trust. Also, I want an open battle against the Boltons. I can hardly burn Winterfell further to the ground. If they find out about the dragons, they will retreat inside Winterfell, and we will have to siege them, as they will know I can't make Winterfell into another Harrenhal." Orys replied as he gave her a kind.
At that, Shireen nodded as she stared toward the sky. As felt Sliverwings calling her. 'Soon, girl,'
"So soon we will have a Nothern feast. Any tip?" She asked as she turned to her husband. As Orys took off his cloak. Orys gave her a smile.
"Just be yourself, like you were at our wedding feast, and drink when you are given one. My father always said they are rowdy folk."He replied, and he walked over, hugged her, and kissed her fully on the lips. "Hmm, I will always enjoy that," Orys exclaimed with a smirk.
"As do I, husband, tonight you will show how much you do." She said as she kissed him back. "Oh, I shall as my wife commands." Orys grinned.
Main Hall
She and Orys sat at the main table, sitting beside Lord Durick and his wife. Rickon sat beside her, trying to be still and act the lord. It had been a learning curve for the boy. He had wildness in him, and she and Orys were trying to guide him. Yet they both knew Rickon would always be a wild wolf, and that part never could be tame. Orys, his own mother, was the truth of that.
"Lord Durick, it's a wonderful feast," Orys noted. "Indeed, my lord. A wonderful one." She added.
"Thank you, Your Graces." Lord Durick exclaimed. "It's an honor to host the last of Ned's children. It was a shame for many of us when your brother, in his hast to rescue your father, left without us. Now, I'm not so sure anymore. We wanted to fight for your father, yet would I still be here, or would I? Many of us here have died during Red Wedding."
Orys face darkened, and she took his hand. "Indeed, my lord, I know how you feel. I.." Orys paused. "I had that same feeling. I almost broke my oath for it. Yet my brother brought me back."
Lord Durick nodded. "Speaking of Your Grace, as many of us did, I saw the letter you sent around the North. That Robb proclaimed you his heir, yet you were sworn to Watch, but that isn't something we all can forget."
She saw the other lords nodded in agreement. Orys took a deep breath and stepped away from the table. To stand in the center of the table.
"Many of you follow me now because my brother Robb named me his heir. Yet I also know some have questioned whether I broke my oath to the Watch when I left it. I did just that when I received a letter from Ramsey Bolton. Telling me of the capture of someone I sent to rescue my sister and what he would do to her. I broke my oath for her for my family, and for that, I died." Orys proclaimed.
"Your Grace, I respected you since I met you at the Wall. Yet saying you died, yet I see you here alive." Lord Vorrin noted.
"Indeed, my lord, I know it's hard to believe. Yet my brothers killed me for breaking my oath. For that, I deserved death, yet I know it was a planned coup. They planned to kill me and the Freefolk I let past the Wall." Orys replied, at the Nothern Lords shouted. Shouted wildings, raiders, and more insult the way of the Freeflok
"My lords, I know we have fought the Freeflok for thousands of years. Yet we did not build a wall a thousand feet high to keep them out. It was something more. Something our nursemaids and mothers told us about. The Others are coming for us, and every person not behind the Wall before Winter comes will be someone we have to fight." Orys proclaimed.
"Your Grace, I respect our old tales as much as the next Nothern. Yet the Others, surely these are tales the Freeflok told you. They have been trying to cross the Wall for thousands of years. I fought their raiders once. My ancestors fought them." Lord Loden noted.
"I know that both my death and the tale of the others are coming are hard to believe. Yet I was dead," Orys began to strip himself of his upper clothing. Soon enough, he was bare, and she saw the scars she had kissed during the lovemaking. The room was quiet then.
Then Lord Howland Reed stepped forward. "I'm lord Howland Reed. I traveled with Lady Maege Mormont to deliver the Will of King Robb Stark. I arrived, seeing King Stannis, to lay his Grace on a pyre. Together with two dragon eggs." Howland began as he nodded toward Orys. Then he gave her a sad look.
"To my horror, Stannis also had his daughter bound to the pyre. Maege and I could do nothing as the pyre was set alight. The Queen's screams will haunt me until I die, but she and King both rose from the pyre for some reason, with two dragons clinging to them. I saw the Freeflok kneel to Jon Stark and proclaim him King. I saw the Baratheon men turn on their King and kneel to him and her Grace Shireen. I follow Jon Stark and Shireen Stark until the end of my days, and I follow them into the coming Long Night." Howland proclaimed, and cheers of the Freeflok chiefs were heard, as well as two Stormlords that followed her and Orys.
At that, she rose from her seat. "What Lord Reed says is all too true. To my own horror, my father bound me to the pyre. Yet I did not die and found myself surrounded by flames, yet I did not burn. I lived, and my husband rose from the dead beside me, as did two dragons."
"I know it is a hard tale for the songs. Please follow me outside if my scars and tale word lord Reed and others aren't enough." Orys proclaimed, and she saw him give Tormund a nod.
Orys Targaryen Stark.
Burely hold courtyard.
He held Shireen hand as they waited for the one crates to be brought into the courtyard. The Lords had been crumbling before. He couldn't blame the Freeflok that had raided these parts for thousands of years. Yet he was their King now, and they had their common enemy.
Soon enough, the crate arrived.
"My lords, be ready." He proclaimed, "And stay back. What is in that crate will kill you without a thought."
Tormund opened the crate and let it fall to its side, and the body of Bowen March tumbled out. The corpse wasted no time in getting to its feet and charging at the lords. They all had gone white as milk and backed away from horrid creatures. He had seen it before, yet it would never stop giving him shivers.
But before the dead man could reach them, he was yanked back by chains held by the creature. It cried out, and it was the same as the one he killed the first time as it was dragged back into its crate.
"Let it be known. This is why I let the Free Folk through the Wall. My lords, my ladies, if we do not stand united against this threat, we will all die… and rise again as this thing." He stepped forward, fire in his eyes.
"But we cannot stand as one while we are divided. First, we must unite the North under Stark's rule. We must drive out those who have broken guest rights, who murdered our kin, our friends, and King."
The silence broke. "Aye!" shouted Lord Loden Liddle, drawing his sword and raising it high.
"For justice for the North! For the kin we lost, for our friends, and for our murdered King!"
"I will follow King Jon Stark," proclaimed Lord Durick, "and my Lord Rickon!"
"For all the North!" shouted Howland Reed.
One by one, swords and axes were drawn and raised, the lords of North, Storm, and Freeflok echoing each other with roaring voices.
"King in the North!"
"King in the North!"
"King in the North!"
Notes: So the mountain clans are on board. The North starts to begin to see what the threat truly is. Soon enough, they will march toward Ironrath.