Game of Thrones Iron Stark

Before she went to tell Slow Sheep she was leaving, Daenerys called Ser Jorah into her room for advice.

"Khaleesi, I don't think it's time yet," Jorah said, stroking his beard. "Khal Drogo hasn't sent word. He's still dealing with the last horse tribe — the Masai. Once he's dealt with them he'll probably send a raven. We should wait for that."

"But we've already stayed too long," Daenerys said. "They've done everything for us and we haven't given them anything in return."

Jorah smiled. "They're the kind of friends who show up when you need them most. That's the best kind. And the sheep folk love peace. As long as we don't attack them, they'll leave us alone."

Daenerys sighed. "Fine. But we're still going to bring fresh grass to Warm Sheep. She saved all of us."

"I'll take some men and cut the best pasture we can find," Jorah said, and left.

Daenerys went back to her quarters. Her handmaids were feeding the three baby dragons. They could fly now and breathe real fire. They preferred their meat roasted — especially deer — but refused to touch sheep.

The sheep folk and the Dothraki were different that way. In a pinch the horse people would eat horse. The sheep people never would. Daenerys had noticed that even though they wrote on sheepskin, the sheep folk had a quiet steel in them. The Dothraki respected that.

"Dragonfire, Drogon," she said.

The black-and-red dragon blasted a piece of pork with a thin jet of flame. It sizzled and cooked instantly. The three little dragons immediately started fighting over it while the handmaids laughed.

---

The army's plans had changed.

The western and Iron Islands forces would sail around to Bear Island. The Vale army was heading for Eastwatch. The riverlands troops and the four thousand from King's Landing would march together up the Kingsroad to Castle Black.

The Vale had sent a thousand cavalry — the fanciest contingent — thanks to Littlefinger's "friendship" with Lysa Arryn.

Tywin Lannister had sent five hundred horse and five hundred foot. The Iron Islands were dragging their feet, but Theon was almost home. When the Lannister army passed through they would remind Balon Greyjoy what happened to houses that defied the lions.

Stannis led the main column of four thousand north. From the outside it looked like one army, but inside it was clearly four separate camps — Dornish, Reach, Stormlands, and Crownlands. Half the Crownlands soldiers were actually Lannisters in disguise, which meant the West had quietly sent the largest single contingent.

Tony rode near the rear with Stannis and Davos Seaworth. Coben walked with the black-robed Stone Men at the very back. He had come along because he needed more wight samples for his research.

"Those secret weapons of yours," Davos said, nodding toward the hooded figures. "What exactly are they?"

"Soldiers who don't fear death," Tony answered. "Coben's in charge of them."

Coben had originally refused to come, but the scientist in him couldn't resist the chance to study more wights.

Tony looked at Stannis. "If Melisandre were here the cold nights would be easier. She could keep the fires burning."

Stannis gave him a strange smile, then his face rippled and changed.

He became Melisandre — red hair, red robes, red ruby at her throat.

Tony stared. "You used the polyjuice potion I gave you?"

Melisandre laughed. "Of course. I studied it, reversed the formula, and made more. Useful little trick."

Davos just looked bored, like he'd known all along.

"Where's the real Stannis?" Tony asked.

"Scouting ahead for a good camp site," Davos said. "It's getting dark fast. We need to stop for the night."

Tony grinned at the red priestess. "Then the fires are your job tonight."

Melisandre gave a small, haughty sniff and walked off to start lighting campfires. No one dared bother her. A red priestess wasn't someone you trifled with.

Tony sat by one of the fires and chuckled. "Female sorcerers really are efficient."

Stannis — now back in his own face — sat down beside him and tossed a splash of wine into the flames. The fire roared up for a second, then settled.

"You don't want to see what's waiting in the fire, Tony?" he asked.

Tony raised an eyebrow. "You saw something?"

Melisandre appeared behind him without a sound. She took his hands and guided them toward the fire, close but not touching the flames.

The fire came alive. It danced and twisted until a picture formed inside the flames.

Snow falling. Then the snow turned red — blood. So much blood it stained the white ground crimson. Dead bodies lay everywhere. Then they stood up, eyes glowing blue in the darkness.

Tony yanked his hands back and hissed as the fire kissed his skin.

"That the future?" he asked, shaking his burned fingers.

"My power is limited," Melisandre said. "Only a glimpse. The gods see everything. We see fragments."

Tony looked at her. "Do you believe a man can still change what the fire shows?"