Fire and Mud: a GoT Parody - Chapter Seven

Charlie the horse kicked the ground contentedly as the farmer approached with a bucket full of grain. His arrival was interrupted by an arrow sailing into the back of his neck, throwing him face forward into the dirt.

Charlie neighed in distress as a creature emerged from outside to pull the arrow from the farmer’s neck and blow on it. “That’ll do, arrow,” she said softly, wiping it on the straw and placing it under one arm. “That’ll do.” She turned her glance to Charlie and smiled. “Hello, horsie,” she greeted him, approaching to give him a pat. “You’re a pretty one, aren’t you?” She stroked his mane and turned to drag over the discarded bag of grain. “Eat up. We’ve got a long journey ahead of us…” Ygritte ran a grubby hand through her fiery hair. “Winterfell awaits.”

Two men sprinted out of the Eyrie as fast as humanly possible as Dany and Sam approached at a brisk jog. The dwarf threw a set of shackles in the two’s direction as Jaime picked him up hurriedly and ran even more quickly downhill.

“Is that Jaime Lannister?” Sam asked incredulously, turning to gaze at him. “Running from the Eyrie?”

“She can’t be that scary,” Dany scoffed, and then she froze. “Can she?”

“I hope not, I’m scared of the dark as it is,” Sam squeaked. “Not to mention heights, zombies, wildlings and the cold.”

Daenerys looked at him in bemusement. “You can’t be doing very well on the Wall, then?”

Sam snorted. “That’s an understatement.”

They ascended the hill towards the Eyrie apprehensively.

Thankfully on this occasion, the Starks and Jon Snow met them halfway, Jon grasping Drogon in his arms gingerly. “It went well,” Jon commented, handing the wriggling beastlet over to Daenerys.

“He’ll hand them over?” she asked, stroking the dragon. He settled immediately in her arms with a satisfied puff of smoke.

“Well, he’ll tell his sister we have a loan of some dragons, at any rate,” Catelyn replied contentedly. She held out a hand, which Dany shook. “Catelyn Stark. I wasn’t told your name?”

“Dalie—” Dany began.

“You don’t need to lie,” Jon informed her. “It will help more if you tell them the truth.”

She nodded shortly and turned to Catelyn and Ned. “Daenerys Targaryen. Dany for short.”

The couple were taken aback. “I heard you were in Vaes Dothrak?” Ned said in astonishment.

“I was,” she replied. “I came back.”

“For the throne?” Catelyn asked.

Dany paused. “Yes. Does that bother you?”

“Stannis Baratheon demands his claim to the kingdoms,” Ned pointed out. “Robert’s only heirs are Lannister bastards. He is next in line.”

“He usurped my father’s throne, I deserve to have it back,” she retorted.

“What about your brother?” Jon asked.

“Oh, he’s a Khaleesi, that’ll do him,” she said flippantly. “Anyway, he’s as batshit crazy as this King Joffrey person, it’d be counterproductive putting him on the throne.”

“I agree,” Catelyn replied. “Probably an incest thing.”

Everyone froze.

“Cat,” Ned warned.

“What? Everyone was thinking it,” she said sulkily.

“Insanity in the produce of incestuous relations occurs in one out of two children,” Dany said icily. “My oldest brother and I are of a wholly separate cult to Viserys. And besides, he’s humbled out a lot since getting together with the khal.”

Sam sniggered internally.

“So what’s our plan?” Dany said, changing the subject swiftly. “Storm King’s Landing with the dragons and geld Joffrey’s head for the mantelpiece?”

“Um, no,” Catelyn said sharply. “The dragons are too small. We’d have a better chance charging in there with the direwolves.”

“I don’t want to get his fur bloody,” Jon said, stroking Ghost’s fur.

Everyone scowled at him.

“What? White is so difficult to keep clean, you know,” he objected. “You would know that if you didn’t have a cushy marriage to a lord and a mass of servants to do your cleaning for you.”

Something occurred to Dany then, just as he said the word ‘marriage’. “We don’t need the dragons or the direwolves,” she realised.

“Why not?” Catelyn demanded.

Dany grinned. “I can marry Joffrey.”

A girl walked into Winterfell, a scarf wrapped tightly around her head and her torn dress held together with string. The lords of Winterfell were taking requests from the poor today – it was her chance to finally see Robb Stark in the flesh. She joined the queue and entered the castle with the others.

It took her a moment to finally see Robb Stark in the flesh, alongside his little brothers, Bran and Rickon. It took her another moment to realise that it actually was him sitting there and not someone else entirely. “Are you Robb Stark?” she asked curiously.

He frowned and gave a nod. “I am.”

“But you’re auburn,” she pointed out. “I thought Robb Stark had curly black hair.”

“Maybe you’re thinking of my bastard brother, Jon Snow,” he suggested.

“Really? He’s not you? The cute one?” she said in disappointment. “With the little beard and the deadpan voice?”

“That’s Jon, all right,” Bran said with a smile.

“Oh,” she said lightly. She wasn’t altogether disappointed.

“How can I help you?” Robb said kindly.

“Well, you see, m’lord, it was my father,” she said meekly, turning her face towards the ground. “He was struck down by wildlings, sir.”

Robb sat forward. “Tell me what happened.”

She ground the toe of her boot on the ground beneath her dress. “It were a girl, m’lord. With red hair, like it were kissed by fire. She shot him, m’lord, right in the throat, when he was minding his own business, feeding the horse, you understand. Never done a thing wrong in his life, sir, and she killed him stone dead.”

“What else did you notice about her?”

“She were very pretty, m’lord,” she said immediately, “although in need of a good hairbrush, you understand, being a wildling and all. She were brutal, m’lord, absolutely ruthless. Took my dad’s horse and all, and then she went and ravaged me.” She gestured to her torn dress. “It were horrible, m’lord, like nothing I ever seen or witnessed.” She trembled.

“Don’t worry,” Robb said comfortingly. “I’ll send a raven to Castle Black. They’ll keep a lookout for this girl, you need not worry about her. In the meantime, I can offer you a place here as a chambermaid or a kitchen wench inside the grounds, where you will be safe.”

“Thank you, m’lord,” she said graciously. “I really appreciate this, m’lord.” She then decided to show this by pulling up her skirts.

“Um, miss, I don’t think, not in front of the boys,” Robb stammered, reddening.

She retracted her hands from within her attire to reveal a bow and arrow. She shot one of the bannermen and groped under the skirts for another arrow just in time to gut a swiftly approaching guard. The Starks ducked under the table, and the process was repeated until she was alone with the three boys, who peered over the table at her.

“Are you going to kill us?” Rickon asked fearfully.

“No, little man,” she said softly. “You can be my prisoners until your father comes home, or until the King-Beyond-the-Wall arrives, whichever comes first.”

“Who’s the King-Beyond-the-Wall?” Robb demanded.

“He’s a king without a castle, m’lord,” Ygritte said with a grin. “But that’ll be remedied soon enough.”