Game of Thrones Iron Stark

Viserys kept screaming.

Daenerys looked at her brother's terrified face and felt something inside her give way.

"My sun and stars," she said, voice shaking. "Please. He is still my brother. Forgive him this once."

Drogo did not even glance at her. They were in Vaes Dothrak. Other khals were watching. The dosh khaleen were watching. He could not afford to look weak.

"No, my moon," he said. "Today I kill the weak one for you. He is a danger to our son."

He nodded at Jorah. The knight gently turned Daenerys around and covered her eyes with his hands.

Drogo pulled off his golden belt and tossed it into a pot already heating over the fire. More gold followed. The metal began to melt, glowing bright and terrible.

Viserys stared at the pot, understanding too late.

When the gold was liquid, Drogo lifted the pot himself.

"This is your golden crown," he said.

He poured it over Viserys's head.

The scream that followed was worse than anything Daenerys had ever heard. It went on and on until it suddenly stopped. A smoking corpse slumped to the ground.

Drogo dropped the empty pot. It rang once against the stone.

"Throw him outside the city," he ordered. "Bury him if you wish."

Bloodriders dragged the body away.

Drogo took Daenerys's hand. "He was never a true dragon. Only you and our child carry that blood."

Daenerys watched the men carry her brother out into the dark. She told herself the same thing Drogo had said.

True dragons do not fear fire.

In the Kingswood, Robert tore into a thick slice of roasted boar and passed another to Ned.

"With your direwolves we'll find that white stag easy," he said, mouth full. "When I bring it back alive every lord in the realm will see the gods favor me. You'll stand beside me while they kneel."

Ned stared into the fire. "Some things are better left alone, Your Grace. You are the king. If something goes wrong the realm pays for it."

Robert snorted. "You think I don't know that? I never wanted the damn throne. I wanted to fight in Essos or ride with a khalasar. Jon Arryn told me if I didn't take the crown the whole country would fall into chaos again."

He looked at Ned. "What is chaos, really?"

Ned was quiet for a moment. "Chaos is the root of every evil. War. Plague. Ruin. Death. That is why you wear the crown. Because someone had to stop it."

Robert grunted and took another bite of meat. For once he didn't laugh.

Near Winterfell the fight was already over.

Robb lowered his sword. "Please. Don't hurt my brother."

The wildlings were dragging Bran toward their horses when Summer slammed into the nearest one and took him down. Grey Wind circled, teeth bared. Robb charged in with his blade.

Theon and the rest of the hunting party arrived moments later. An arrow took one wildling through the eye. The rest fell quickly. Only one was left alive — a woman.

"Name," Robb demanded, sword at her throat.

"Osha," she said.

Robb turned when Theon shouted. Bran's lips were darkening. The cut on his arm had already started to poison him.

"Get her on a horse," Robb ordered. "We ride for Winterfell. Theon, bring the bodies back and bury them."

He lifted Bran into his arms and rode hard for the castle.

Maester Luwin took one look at Bran and his face went grim.

"Wildling poison. If we don't know what they used, only another wildling can treat it. Did you keep any alive?"

"One," Robb said. "A woman named Osha."

Theon returned not long after, leading Osha by a rope. His face was flushed and there was fresh dirt on his clothes. Osha walked with a limp and kept her eyes on the ground.

Luwin didn't ask questions. He looked straight at her.

"If you can save the boy, Lord Robb has said he will spare your life. In the name of House Stark."