Jeor

He watched as the next group slowly trekked out of the tunnel, some blinking and shielding their eyes against the glare of the sun overhead; the tunnel was long and even with the torches they kept lit it was a dark path to walk so returning to the blazing light of the Northern Sun could make one struggle to see. Though, as the Lord Commander watched one father hug his son close as he practically stumbled out of the tunnel with a little sleigh carrying a pregnant woman, he had a feeling it wasn't the sun that was causing him to tear up.

Not that any would hold it against the hardened wildlings for showing a bit of emotion. When the very first of their numbers had emerged into Castle Black Mance had broken down, Benjen shielding him as the man fell to his knees and wept.

'His burden had been heavy… far heavier than any I have known. His people chose him to be their King because he offered them hope that they could make it to safety. I think he doubted many times if he could do that. Their lives in his hands… and he has finally managed to make good on his word.'

The protests from the Night's Watch had taken time to be quieted and Jeor wasn't foolish enough to think that they were gone completely. Thorne was still glowering, far more than usual, and Benjen had taken to loitering when the man had drills in the yard, just to make sure he didn't take out his frustrations on the new recruits. There were others as well that murmured and whispered and Jeor would have worried about a mutiny if it weren't for Steve and Ygritte. Before there had been grumbles with a single Other about but now that there were two, and one that had no problem breaking a man's nose if they looked at her the wrong way, the Brothers were being far more careful with what they said.

Jeor frowned at that thought. 'But being careful about their words isn't always a good thing. More rebellions are born in the dark than they are in the light.'

"What has ya so grumpy?' Ygritte asked, walking over to him.

"Traitors," he admitted, realizing that if he tried to hide what he was thinking about she'd only needle and prod more. "How are the new leathers holding up?"

Ygritte looked down at the new outfit Steve had commissioned for her. Her old furs had been destroyed when her body had been transformed into an other and while she no longer felt the cold, able to walk on the snows barefoot and march through storms with only scraps of cloth, Steve had insisted that she needed something to cover herself up. Thus he'd gotten Ryling, the leather worker for Castle Black, to make Ygritte some new gear.

It was deep blue in color but not so much that it appeared black, as Ygritte had been VERY stern in not wanting to look like 'a fuckin' crow'. It was far thinner than what anyone else would wear this far north… unless they wanted to freeze to death. But it was flexible and Ygritte had marveled had just how she could twist and move while wearing it, going through a series of lunges and strikes with a spear she'd been given by another of the Free Folk warriors. Of course she'd also destroyed three training dummies and shattered said spear with one particular strike but Steve assured them he'd work on solving that problem.

"Well enough," she admitted. "Though your boys and my folk can't fuckin' decided if they should be starin' at me or turnin' their heads away." She let out a scoff as she reached up and jiggled her breasts. "Red Skull might like to pretend he's all cultured and collected but he's like any man… always thinkin' about a nice set of tits." She gave her rack another bounce. "Fuckin' tripled me! Probably dreamed of stickin' his face between them and drowning." Ygritte looked over at him and purposely gave her breasts yet another wiggle. "What about you, crow? Balls still workin' that you like this?"

Jeor rolled his eyes. "Ygritte, I'm not interested in talking about your tits."

"At least ya aren't bein' all polite about it!" Ygritte said, pleased. "I can tell ya, they work wonders though."

"Must you?"

She cackled. "I must! Steve really enjoys them!"

"We know," Jeor said coolly. "We all know. WINTERFELL fucking knows."

Jeor and Benjen and Mance had assumed that Steve had been turning down Ygritte's advances out of civilly or courtly nobility. It had turned out it was more a case that his enhanced body would have torn her to shreds if they had tried anything. But now that Ygritte was like him she had made it her life's work to corrupt him when it came to carnal knowledge and Steve… well, Steve wasn't exactly a blushing bride either.

That had led to problems though. It turned out when Others had sex it was rather… loud. And violent. Not because they were trying to cause destruction but their bodies were built to take far more punishment than a normal human.

"Ya can't be gentle with me," Ygritte had told them (against their wills, honestly) at supper a week ago. "The soft and slow strokes?" She had said that with a condescending tone, lightly stroking the surface of the table. "I won't even feel it. Fuck, I doubt you'd be able ta get it into my cunt if ya tried! Its like them bear traps ya crows like ta put out… one that's rusted too. Ya need ta force it." She had begun to slam to fist into the table, making the wood crack. "A real solid pounding! Like drivin' a spike into frozen earth!"

And she hadn't been jesting. A few nights earlier Jeor had awoken to all of Castle Black shaking and had been sure that the giants the Free Folk had said would be coming by boat via Eastwatch had arrived early. Instead, it had been learned later on, it had only been Steve taking Ygritte against a wall.

The shock and embarrassment from that little reveal had only been tempered by the amusement of finding out Others truly could blush.

Jeor shook himself out of his thoughts as the man in question walked over, Tormund and his sister a few steps behind. "Lord Commander," he said politely before looking at Ygritte. "My lady."

"Your nothin'," Ygritte said with a saucy little grin, reaching out and grabbing Steve's crotch. "More like your me man…"

"If you two are going to bump blue uglies right here…" Tormund began.

"You'll stick around and fucking watch?" Rayne asked.

"No… maybe," the large man admitted before looking at Jeor. "Mance sends word… things are going well. No sign of wight attacks at the moment."

"There won't be," Steve said.

"Of course there fuckin' won't be!" Ygritte proclaimed. "We gave that bastard two black eyes ta go along with that ugly red face of his!"

"No," Steve said.

"No?" Ygritte challenged.

"No. We hurt him, that's true. But there is something else. Another reason why he is not sending his wights after us. Attacking the Free Folk, luring us into a trap… that would be revenge, yes, but not the kind he wants. He wants to prolong it, to make it last. That is his way."

Jeor frowned at that. "You're speaking of his last comments. His threat."

"Ice and blood," Steve said. "I've been talking with Maester Aemon… he gave me the answer and I agree that it is the only solution." He motioned for Jeor to follow him and the small group moved towards one of the warming huts that had been set up near the tunnel, for any Free Folk who needed a moment to regain some heat before continuing on to the Gift and the New Gift. Once the five of them were seated around the fire Steve began to talk once more. "Maester Aemon has given me a history of Westeros. Of the past that I have missed and most recent events. He spoke of one house whose words are similar to the Red Skull's comment."

Jeor felt like smacking his forehead. "Fire and Blood."

"Fire and what?" Tormund asked, confused.

"Fire and Blood," Jeor stated. "They are the words of House Targaryen. They ruled Westeros for nearly 300 years before the Rebellion tossed them out of power."

Rayne leaned back at that. "They shit rulers?"

"Some were good. Noble. Men even you would have been pleased to serve."

"Not fuckin' likely," Ygritte muttered.

"But yes, there were shit ones. And the last was Aerys Targaryen, the Mad King. He saw enemies everywhere. When his son kidnapped Lady Lyanna Stark her brother went to King's Landing to demand her back."

Ygritte leaned towards him. "Oh? That little princeling decided to steal a woman? Maybe you Southerners aren't as dense as I thought!"

"Maybe she stole him," Rayne stated. "Lots of men don't want to admit that they get stolen." She shot her brother a look, Tormund looking away from her with his features twisted to appear utterly innocent.

"So what, did the princeling refuse to face her brother in combat?" Ygritte asked mockingly. "Sounds like a pampered pup thing ta do. Every brother has a right ta challenge the man that took his kin… that is how things are done properly."

Jeor though shook his head. "He never had a chance. The Mad King held Brandon Stark captive and when his father came to try and retrieve him… he declared there would be a battle. Lord Rickard… versus fire."

"Fire?" Rayne asked before her eyes went wide. "Fucking hell."

Ygritte frowned. "You told us this story… I remember it. Bastard king and all that. What's it have ta do with the Red Skull?"

"Fire and Blood are House Targeryen's words," Steve stated. "There are two Targaryens left: Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen. Exiled to Essos."

Jeor felt his blood run cold. "You think the Red Skull is going to try what he did with Ygritte again? But with the Targaryens?"

"I do," Steve said. "And… there is something else. Something that worries me." He swallowed. "Jeor… is it true what Maester Aemon said… did they have dragons?"

"They did," Jeor stated. "They are dead now."

"They aren't dead," Tormund said. "Or at least not North of the Wall. Ice drakes… you hear'em at night. Screaming. Roaring."

Jeor closed his eyes. "Dragon riders…" If the Others gained the Targaryens, made them into Others as well, and then had them tame Ice Drakes… it would change everything. What good was the Wall if one could fly right over it? "What do we do, Steve?"

"We stop them," he said simply.

"How?"

"We travel to Essos," Steve stated. "Ygritte, myself, and a few others. Benjen, if you can spare him. You'll need to stay… Mance too. But-"

"We're coming," Rayne said quickly, gesturing at herself and her brother. "We'll represent the Free Folk."

Tormund grinned. "It true that there are women over there with dark skin? I've always wanted to fuck someone with dark skin."

"You've always wanted to fuck anything and everything," Ygritte groused before looking at Steve. "So, takin' me on a sailin' trip already? You move fast…"

Jeor tuned out the bantering. He knew most of it was because of nerves. They were headed into parts unknown for all of them. They were going to seek out the Mad King's children. And they were facing a threat that would decide the fate of Westeros itself.

He sent a silent pray to the Old Gods.

~MC~MC~MC~

Robb

If he closed his eyes he could almost believe that things were as they had been two years ago, before King Robert had come North to make his father Hand of the King.

He was once more in the great hall of Winterfell, the many servants and guards and members of their household gathered to enjoy a good meal. The cooks had outdone themselves, having prepared a grand feast to welcome all back. There was a large pig that had been so glazed with honey that the meat was more like candy than anything else. Roast too, so tender that one had to eat it with a spoon rather than a fork, for it fell apart in great fragrant strands. Tiny little potatoes that had been allowed to stew in thick gravy until their every square inch had been saturated in the wondrous flavor. Caramelized onions that the Umbers were eating like they were apples and Robb smiled and raised a glass to the Smalljon as he managed to stuff a whole one in his mouth, much to the amusement of his friends and guards. There was dark bread that tasted of summer nuts and sausages packed with spices that left one fanning their mouth before going for another bite. Ale flowed freely and if a server ducked away to sneak a mug or two no one said a word.

The high table was filled with his family once more and it made Robb realize how empty it had been after King Robert's visit. Every day during those last two years, it had felt like someone else had disappeared from the hall until it was only him, sitting there in his chair with only the scrape of his knife and fork upon his plate to keep him company.

But it was different now. Winterfell was alive again. And not just with the Starks.

"Look at him," the Greatjon said, walking up to Robb's father, a tankard that could have easily been worn as a hat, it was so large, clasped in his hand. "My boy…I worried about him, you know. Wasn't sure that he would be able to take over for me. I know calling him 'The Smalljon' was an annoyance to him because he felt he needed to live up to me… I was always afraid his need to prove himself would make him do something stupid." He let out a huffing laugh. "But he weeded out the wildlings and then stood with your boy against Euron Fucking Greyjoy. He fought fucking wights and a thrall…" The Greatjon shook his head. "I still worry, Ned. But at least it is normal worries."

"Everyone worries," Robb's father said. "That is how it is when one has children…"

Robb's attention drifted to his right, where the first major changes to his life was sitting, talking animatedly with her sister.

"And you are doing well?" Roslin asked.

Greta nodded. While they didn't resemble each other all that much they were fully sisters, despite what many believed. Greta had been the first born of Walder Frey's 3rd wife while Roslin had been the last. 10 years separated them and it showed in the stern woman's attitude, but Roslin still showed her kindness and Greta seemed to soften a bit when around her; Robb wondered just how much kindness there had been in the Towers.

"Roose ensures that all is well. He makes sure that I listen to the maester… unless he is a fool and then we overrule him." She smiled at that and Robb saw at once the resemblance between the two, even if Greta's smile was far smaller than Roslin's.

He noticed that the Lord of the Dreadfort had stopped whatever conversation he was having with Rickard Karstark to glance over at Greta, the older man giving a scoff before motioning for Roose to go to his wife. Robb still found it odd to see the Leech Lord being such a doting husband and he looked out into the crowd to find Jon, to see if he had-

Robb stopped before shutting his eyes.

"You okay?" Rickon asked.

"I need some air," Robb said, pushing away from the table. Sansa looked at him, seated on a chair twice as big as a normal one, their mother reaching over to wipe her face since she couldn't actually do it herself, and Robb felt the muscles in his neck strain before he quickly made his exit, trying to be as polite as he could be about it.

'You are troubled,' Venom thought to himself as Robb hurried out into the hall.

'I am,' Robb answered; he might have lied to anyone else that asked him but he'd never lie to his partner. Not to Venom. They were bonded now and that made them so very close that he wanted to have no secrets from him.

The Symbiote rumbled at that. 'We will get him home. All of them.'

'We failed to find Bran,' Robb pointed out as he made his way down some stairs and to a side door. He needed out of the Keep. Away from everyone else. He practically ripped the door off its hinges as he threw it open, letting it slam behind him as he felt the cold night air strike his face. It was beginning to snow again, blanketing the world in white and silence, but his mind was a flurry of emotions and thoughts and there was only one cure.

He felt his form expand as Venom covered the two of them and after a moment Robb looked down at his clawed toes before crouching, the wonderful feeling of muscles tensing filling him before he pushed off, easily rocketing into the air.

'We will find them all!' Venom told him firmly as they landed on top of the Broken Tower, the roof groaning under their weight before they leapt off again, soaring over Wintertown before landing beside a sleepy guard who gave a start when he realized he wasn't alone. He scrambled for his sword only for Robb and Venom to turn towards him, flashing a toothy smile.

"Be glad we are allies, Henrik," they declared.

"My… my prince," the man stammered and Robb felt Venom's amusement that the man clearly couldn't decide if he should sheath his sword or not. And, admittedly, Robb felt a small bit of glee as well. It was nice to be feared again, as he had been on the battlefield against the Lannisters, sword in hand as he clashed with their forces, cutting down the bastards that had seen Sansa killed.

'Except she wasn't,' he thought to himself. 'She suffered worse.'

He crouched and leapt off the wall, landing outside of Winterfell before racing forward. Sometimes he jumped and other times he would fall to all fours, running like a wolf himself, limbs able to twist in ways they shouldn't. Rickon had asked him about that and Robb had found it hard to explain. While it looked like Venom merely coated his skin the process was far different from that. His fingers were his fingers… his hands weren't halfway up his arms like a child wearing their father's shirt. He honestly couldn't explain it and Venom was unhelpful in clarifying things himself, seeing as Robb was the first person he had bonded with. And, hopefully, the last.

They moved easily into the Wolfswood, pausing and sniffing the air. There was wildlife all over but that wasn't the prey that Robb wanted to hunt. He stalked men… vile, disgusting, evil men who harmed others. Who kidnapped little girls and sent assassins to little boys. Who tossed children out of windows and slaughtered innocent guards who had ate with him only hours earlier. He wanted to feel their muscles and flesh shred under his claws and their organs to pop in his mouth-

"We aren't doing that," Venom said, pulling away from Robb's face and forming a second head.

"Why not?" Robb asked.

"Because your family would blame me if we went and killed Lannisters!" Venom protested, sounding a bit like Bran when he'd been told that he couldn't leave the table without finishing his vegetables. "And your father would be most upset that he wasn't there to help us!"

Robb managed a smile at that. He'd heard whispers of his father's actions over the last few months, of what he'd done in the battles that had sprung up around him. But it had only been that morning, watching him in the training yard sparring with Drax, that he'd seen the truth of it. The Guardian that was a merging of Brandon and a Child might have been a bit… odd… when it came to his focuses and his comments, but he was still an amazing fighter. He could take out 20 Stark guards with ease, using blunted daggers that still left the men on the ground wheezing from his blows.

Ned Stark had held his own against his brother, meeting him blow for blow. And Robb's father was far more underhanded now when he fought. He'd gone in for a strike at one point and when Drax had moved to defend his leg had snapped out and he'd stomped on his brother's toes, making the green man hop back. But Robb's father hadn't given him a chance to recover, instead pressing his attack until Drax had ended up on the ground, a sword at his throat.

Robb could have done without hearing his father declare in a cold voice, "The only one who can claim Catelyn's ass is me".

"Fine," Robb said, gritting his teeth.

Venom nodded but didn't return to his head, instead twisting around to inspect Robb's face. "We will bring them all home. We know that they are out there."

"They are in grave danger," Robb said. "Arya is in Braavos with Blackfyres of all people!" He began to walk around the woods, absentmindedly reaching out and clawing at trees he passed. "The Blackfyres… mother will never let any of us hear the end of it. And Theon is there too… fucking fools, driving him away because of his sister and father and his uncle!" Robb continued to pace. "And Jon is stuck in King's Landing… the fucking Lannisters have him prisoner." There had been some that whispered that Jon served on the Small Council and was a traitor to the North but all the Starks had been rather forceful in shouting down those comments. Or, in the case of Sansa (much to Robb's surprise), snarling and barking. "He should have never left. He should have been at my side. He is my brother-"

"He isn't though," Venom pointed out. "He is-"

"He is my brother!" Robb roared. "My family! No different than Rickon or Bran or you or Theon! I care not of who birthed him… he is my brother and I want him back!"

Venom was quiet.

"…I am your family?"

"Of course," Robb said without pause.

At once Venom was nuzzling his cheek.

"Okay, okay!" Robb said with a laugh as Venom whispered about nameday gifts long owed. "Come on…" Venom pressed against his head and at once they were fully merged again. "Let's hunt."

"So this is where you ran off to."

Robb turned to find Roslin standing by a tree, watching him with a bemused little smile on her face.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Same thing you two are," Roslin said with a shrug. "I needed to get away from everyone. Was getting too loud… felt like I was being slowly crushed." Without fear his wife padded over to him, reaching up and stroking his black arm. "We need to talk about all of this."

"We suppose we do," Robb admitted.

Roslin nodded, a smile slowly forming on her lips. "What have the others said? Yondu wasn't happy that the two of you were bonded."

"He said we don't know enough about the symbiotes to remained joined. That it would be better for us to separate and for him to study Venom." He growled, low in his throat, baring his fangs. "We will not be torn apart. And we will not have one of us dissected by a maester just because they can not accept what we have become!"

"Good," Roslin said, looking at him right in the eye.

She paused.

"We agree with you both."

And with that her smile grew sharp as black goo burst from her body, coating her frame.

Robb stepped back as he watched Roslin slowly rise up, her fingers running down her face and then along her chest as she threw back her head. Just as Robb became the very picture of the ultimate man so too did Roslin become the very definition of woman. Every curve became enhanced, with her breasts swelling yet remaining perfectly firm, hips widening and ass jutting out. But she was no creature merely to stare at and lust over for her muscles also swelled larger; not as big as Robb's but they were there, clear as day, reminding Robb of the illustrations that Arya used to enjoy looking at from time to time of famous female warriors. Legs lengthened, skin became ebony, and white eyes blinked before Roslin finally snapped her head back down, staring at them as she darted her tongue out, looking at them eye to eye.

"Hello husband," they purred before approaching. They were perfection… Robb and Venom's height, with powerful limbs, perfect breasts and ass, and fangs that could tear a man limb from limb.

"Hello wife," both Robb and Venom said, wrapping their arms around the feminine being before them.

The kiss wasn't the thing of fairytales and songs. It was savage and powerful, just as much a battle as it was an embrace. They fought to dominate each other and found that one pair could not force the other to submit… and reveled in that strength. One moment Robb was slamming Roslin against a tree and the next she had spun him around and nearly had him against the ground, her thighs trying to shatter his pelvis as they squeezed. They bit and clawed and snarled and roared as they rolled around the forest floor, finally able to be together properly, for in Winterfell they were expected to copulate like a good little prince and princess.

Under the moon and stars they fucked as they had longed to do so from the moment they'd emerged from the Symbiote Lake.

An hour later they lay amongst the clearing they had created, Roslin's head pressed against his chest, one foot idly rubbing up and down his leg while he stroked her now bald head. Both humans and symbiotes were sated, basking in the afterglow of their union, and Robb once more thanked the Old Gods that it had been these two Symbiotes that he and Roslin had found.

The two were a mated couple, a rarity for symbiote kind according to Roslin's partner (she had not yet chosen a name for herself and Roslin was giving her the time to do so). Where most symbiotes latched onto a host and tried to dominate them in a parasitic relationship Venom and his mate had sensed Robb's devotion to Roslin and the love the two shared and decided to try something… different. Rather than consume completely they would be partners in full. Working together for their mutual goals of escaping Hardhome and killing Euron for his crimes against all four of them. It had been a wonderful partnership and one none of them wished to break.

"We want this for our family," Robb said finally.

"To fuck me or to be fucked by you?" Roslin teased. "We think that's how the war started…"

"Oh hush," he replied back playfully. He wrapped his fingers around her own, bringing their raised hands up to stare at them. "The power… we wish my brothers and sisters could know it."

Roslin sighed at that. "Even if the lake hadn't been destroyed we are too different from them all. The rest of our kind… they do not understand."

"They could have been taught, if we forced them to listen." He growled at that, letting out a snort. "Fucking Euron Greyjoy… we should have eaten him."

"You might have, had you not restrained us."

"We our sorry, our love." Robb leaned down and placed a kiss on the top of Roslin's head. "…no, we are not," he suddenly said. "We will never be sorry about protecting you both."

Roslin laughed at that. "We can protect ourselves now." She lifted up her free hand, letting the moonlight dance upon her claws. "But it does please us that you two wish to defend us. So very… very much." She leaned up and begin to lick the side of Robb's neck, dropping her hand down towards his crotch so that her fingers could wrap around his symbiote enhanced manhood. "The Lake is gone… but other places may hold more of our kind. We will find them… and determine if they are a threat or not. If they are willing to bond as we did we will find suitable hosts. And… we will create our own."

Robb and Venom both groaned at that, letting their heads lull back as Roslin continued to work.

"Every King of Winter has given the North a gift," she said, slinking up his body even as her hand continued to work, preparing him for another round. "This… will be ours. Our children will be a mix of our worlds… symbiote and man, bonded from conception. We will find those of our kind who are willing to bond properly with humans and gift them to our children's spouses. The North will never be threatened again… for our new kind will defend the people." She rolled on top of him, straddling him. "The King and Queen in Black."

There was a scream and both twisted their heads around. Robb sniffed, smelling virginal blood. Deep grunts and the sound of a fist striking soft flesh. Pleas and whimpers.

Roslin and Robb shared a look before smiling, disengaging from one another before rushing forward.

Moments later the screams of the rapist that had dared come to their lands filled the air.

~MC~MC~MC~

Omake:

Jon walked into Tommen's room, where he was holding a little wooden soldier that was dressed like Lord Tywin.

He knew he had to cheer the little king up.

"Don't let Tywin's death get you down boy. People die all the time." He snapped his fingers. "Why… you could wake up dead tomorrow."

Tommen just stared at him.

"…well, goodnight!"

And with that he left, making sure to snuff out the candles so Tommen was left in the dark with only those thoughts to keep him warm.