The Twins stood over the Green Fork like two ugly stone stumps. I watched them from a rise half a mile away. Arya sat beside me in the tall grass, her fingers working through the thick fur behind my ears. Grey Wind lay a few yards off, chewing lazily on a stray branch, but his ears flicked toward the towers.
I didn't share the calm. I stared at the stone bridge connecting the two keeps. I knew what those walls meant. Some destinies felt like they were trying to force their way back into the world, no matter how many changes I made.
The heavy oak gates of the western tower opened. A small riding party emerged. Ned, Robb, and Catelyn. They rode hard back toward our side, and even from this distance, I could read the outcome from their posture. The parley had failed. Ned's face tells me everything I needed to know. Walder Frey had demanded too much, or Ned had simply refused to sell his son into a marriage pact to buy a bridge.
I stood up, shaking off Arya's hand.
"Red?" she asked, looking up in confusion.
I didn't look at her. I started walking down the ridge, my eyes locked on the dark stone of the towers. I wasn't going to let a bitter pervert old man dictate the survival of the North.
...
Night fell black and starless over the river.
Inside the eastern tower, Walder Frey sat on the edge of his featherbed. He was a ruin of a man, his skin like translucent parchment stretched over brittle bones. He was completely naked, his watery, bloodshot eyes fixed on a new, terrified serving girl standing near the hearth.
"Come here, little bird" he wheezed.
Before she could take a step, the stone floor violently lurched.
BOOM.
Walder pitched forward, his bony knees hitting the rug hard.
He scrambled up, his breathing suddenly ragged, and dragged himself to the narrow window overlooking the bridge. He looked down and froze.
A thick black smoke poured from the lower gatehouse. Then, a blinding beam of white-hot fire erupted into the night sky, illuminating the dark river in unnatural daylight. The roar of the flames was immediately followed by the shrieks of burning men.
"My clothes!" Walder shrieked, spinning back into the room. The girl was backed against the wall, paralyzed with fear. "Dress me, you stupid bitch!"
He didn't wait for his heavy furs. He pulled a rough woolen tunic over his head and hobbled out the heavy oak door. The spiral stairs were absolute chaos. His sons and guards were running blindly, swords drawn but with nothing to swing at.
One of his men-at-arms came scrambling up the steps, his face smeared with soot and his armor dented. "My lord! We have to leave! The gate is breached!"
"Which cunt is it?" Walder spat, grabbing the man's collar.
"A beast, M'Lord!"
Walder didn't ask questions. He knew the rumors coming out of the south over the last week. He shoved past the guard, descending as fast as his old legs could carry him toward the water gate beneath the tower.
A small skiff was tied to the iron rings, bobbing in the current. Walder tumbled into it, followed heavily by two guards and his eldest son, Stevron.
"Row!" Walder screamed, his spit flying into the dark. "Get me across the river!"
The guards grabbed the oars, digging them frantically into the black water. The skiff shot away from the damp stone walls, out into the open current.
Walder sat in the bow, clutching his knees to his chest, watching his impregnable fortress burn. The flames reflected in his watery eyes.
Then, a massive shadow detached itself from the top of the burning bridge. It plummeted downward, the silhouette of a monster against the fire that crashed into the river with a heavy splash.
The rowers froze, their oars hovering above the water.
"Don't stop!" Walder shrieked, his voice cracking in pure panic. "Row faster!"
The men pulled, their breath tearing in their throats. The skiff surged forward through the dark.
Suddenly, the boat violently jerked backward, the wood groaning in protest. Frey men was thrown off his bench into the bottom of the hull.
He looked up just in time to see the black water behind the skiff erupt. A massive, steaming head broke the surface. The jaws snapped open lined with teeth the size of small daggers and clamped down entirely over the head of the rear oarsman.
There was a wet, sickening crunch. The man didn't even have time to scream.
The beast ripped backward, dragging the limp, headless body into the dark water. A warm, heavy spray of blood hit Walder straight in the face, blinding him for a second.
The river surged once, washing the red away in the black current, leaving Walder Frey sitting in the dark, shivering and covered in the blood of his own guard, while the beast vanished beneath the waves.
The boat drifted, spinning slowly in the current. Stevron Frey, Walder's eldest son, scrambled for the fallen oar, his face a reflection of his terror. "Help me!" he yelled at the remaining guard. "Get us to the..."
He never finished the sentence.
The water beside the boat rose. A massive, sodden paw slammed onto the gunwale, tilting the skiff nearly to its breaking point. Stevron looked down, staring into an amber eye that looked back at him.
The beast didn't give him a second to pray. It lunged, its jaws locking onto Stevron's shoulder and neck. Frey heard the collarbone snap like a dry twig. It dragged Stevron over the side, the weight of his mail pulling him down as the river grew darker with Frey blood.
...…
I let the body sink into the silt and I wasn't done.
Walder Frey was alone now. He sat in the bottom of the rocking boat, his breath coming in shallow, pathetic wheezes. He wiped the blood from his eyes with a trembling hand, looking around the empty, dark expanse of the Green Fork. The towers were still burning behind him, sending the omen of death.
He saw the ripples first. A V-shaped wake cutting through the water, heading straight for the skiff.
"I'm a Lord!" Walder screamed at the dark. "I have the King's peace! You... you're that Stark beast!"
I breached the surface slowly, five feet away from the boat. The steam from my fur hissed as it met the cool night air. I didn't growl. I didn't roar. I just watched him. I knew what this man would have done to my family. I knew the "Red Wedding" he had planned in another life.
I swam closer, the front of the boat dipping as I rested my massive head on the edge. Walder backed away, his heels drumming uselessly against the wood until he hit the stern. He looked at me, his mouth hanging open, his watery eyes reflecting the fire from his home.
"Please," he whimpered. "I'll give you whatever you..."
I didn't want his gold or his bridges. I lunged.
My jaws closed over his upper body, crushing the ribs and the bitter heart beneath. I felt life leave him in a single, sharp exhale. I didn't let the river have him. I shook the body once, a violent snap that broke his neck, then let the current carry the ruined remains of the Lord of the Crossing toward the sea.
The river went quiet. I turned back toward the shore, the firelight from the Twins dancing on the water. The destiny of the North had just been unwritten again.
I sank back into the depths, the cold water washing the blood from my mane. Walder Frey was gone. The crossing was open. And I was just getting started.