Game of Thrones Iron Stark

Osha checked Bran's wound and the darkening color around his mouth.

"Wolf's bane," she said. "Flower only grows north of the Wall. The cure needs direwolf blood."

Robb's face tightened. "You're not killing the wolves."

"Just a bowl of blood from each. They'll live."

Robb let out a slow breath and went to the kennels himself. Summer, Grey Wind, and the younger pups whined when the kennel master nicked their paws, but they didn't fight. Robb stroked their heads while the blood was collected.

"Bandage them well," he told the kennel master. "And give them extra meat."

He carried the bowl back to Bran's room. Maester Luwin had already mixed herbs. Osha helped stir the thick, dark liquid. They fed it to Bran spoonful by spoonful. Color slowly returned to his face. The black faded from his lips.

Robb finally sat down. For the first time since his parents left he felt like he could breathe.

Osha watched him from the corner. "You're keeping me alive because I saved your brother. I understand. But I won't be your slave."

"You won't be a slave at all," Robb said. "Westeros doesn't keep slaves. You'll work in Winterfell as a servant. That's the deal."

Osha studied him for a long moment, then nodded once.

At the Wall the returning rangers gave their report.

"We dropped every wildling we saw over the edge. They're all dead on the far side."

Lord Commander Mormont rubbed his jaw. "They'll come again. We still don't know what Mance Rayder is planning or how many Others are moving. Benjen, take a ranging party beyond the Wall. Find out."

Benjen Stark stepped forward. "Understood."

He chose his team quickly. "Jack. Seven. Aemon. Zollo. Tyro. Edd. Leo. Astar. With me."

He never called Jon's name.

Dragonstone's black beaches were already busy. Tony had crews cutting into the cliffs where dragonglass veins ran thick and dark.

"We need real blacksmiths and stonemasons," he told Davos. "Dragonstone doesn't have enough skilled hands. Send Victor back to King's Landing. Tell him to bring the best in the Hand's name."

Victor nodded and boarded the next ship south.

Tony wasn't in a rush to ship raw stone north. Better to shape it into weapons here and send finished blades.

Davos cleared his throat. "About our agreement. You said you would treat Shireen."

"I did. Take me to her."

They walked deep into the dungeons. The air grew colder and damper with every step. Tony frowned when they stopped at a heavy door.

"You're keeping the king's own daughter in a cell?"

Davos looked uncomfortable. "It was the decision of Lord Stannis and Lady Selyse. Even the guards think it's wrong."

Inside the dim room a ten-year-old girl sat on a narrow bed reading by candlelight. The book in her hands was The Headless Knight by Tony Stark. Half her face was covered in the hard, gray patches of greyscale.

Shireen looked up when the door opened. "Onion Knight? Who is this man?"

"Maester Tony," Davos said. "He's here to help you."

Before Tony could step inside, a tall woman in red robes appeared behind him like she had stepped out of the shadows. A red ruby glowed at her throat.

"Ser Tony," she said softly.

Tony turned. He hadn't heard her approach at all.

"Melisandre," Davos said quickly. "This is the maester Lord Stannis sent for Princess Shireen."

The red woman studied Tony with calm, dark eyes. "Greyscale cannot be cured. Even the Lord of Light has not healed it. You are too late."

Tony met her stare. "What if I can heal her anyway?"

Melisandre was quiet for a moment. "Then you would prove you serve the Lord of Light. That your power comes from Him."

Tony gave a small, sharp smile. "I've heard your followers say 'the night is dark and full of terrors' and 'all men must die.' I prefer a different saying."

"And what is that?"

"Anything is possible. There are always exceptions."

He looked past her at Shireen. "Today I'll show you what real tools can do."

Tony had the guards move Shireen to a clean upper room. He wore a white coat and mask, laid out his instruments on a cloth-covered table, and explained everything to the girl in a calm voice.

"The Headless Knight is really your book?" Shireen asked, eyes bright even with the gray patches on her cheek. "Did you meet the Dark Knight too? Are you as strong as them?"

"Lie still," Tony said gently. "I'm giving you something to sleep now. When you wake up the hard patches will be gone. It will take about three months for the skin to finish healing. Your body replaces its cells every three months. That's when you'll look normal again."

Shireen closed her eyes. "Okay. Do it."

Tony injected the anesthetic and began the careful work of cutting away the dead, stony tissue.

Three hours later Shireen opened her eyes. Her mother, Davos, and Melisandre stood at the foot of the bed. The worst of the greyscale was gone. Raw new skin showed beneath clean bandages.

Tony pulled the mask down. "She stays inside for three months. No sun. No travel. No leaving Dragonstone."

Lady Selyse stared at her daughter's face, then at Tony. Her voice was unsteady. "If she truly heals… House Baratheon of Dragonstone owes you a debt. My husband owes you a debt."

Tony wiped his hands. "Stannis already gave me permission to mine dragonglass. That's payment enough for the whole realm."