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Chapter Text

Sansa watched as her home was overrun by the White Walkers. The Queen in the North, forced to flee, cursed herself. She thought that it was over, that everything was over… but in reality nothing was over. Not even her little family feud. No, she thought as she bit her lips and made her horse run faster. It won´t be over, not until her damn cousin was dead and buried, along with his entire brood. As she escaped for the Neck and towards her brother, she saw the traces of the destruction this small feud had caused. So much time wondering if she would die by Fire only to be overran by Ice. At least she didn´t have to fear a rain of fire anymore, she thought as she and her guards crossed the burned remains of Hornwood. Unfortunately, as she was crossing Hornwood Lands, she was set up by a group of wights. She screamed as one of the undead creatures dragged her down from her horse. She grabbed her knife and tried to stab them, but more and more approached. Some grabbed her from behind, others from the front. Sansa felt bites all over herself, some breaking her skin. She was Queen in the North, a true Queen, she couldn´t die like this, she couldn´t die like this, she couldn´t die like…

Much later, at the other side of the sea, the other part of the small family feud was watching everything burn around him. Or not everything. There was sizable portion of the city that was covered by ice. Even the wind was frozen and hurt his lungs to breath. It reminded him of his youth… if only he were still that young. His battle time had long since passed when he saw them again. It was the children´s turn… them and their dragons. If only that was enough.

“Greetings, grandfather” someone saluted. The old man smiled when he saw that at least he was alive. He had feared that he was the last one standing…
“I have returned.”

“I was afraid for you when I saw Caraxes struck by that javelin.”

“I was fast enough to dodge them” the young man said, approaching him. The older one allowed him to hug him. “I was so afraid to having lost ever…” the pain in his abdomen told him there was something wrong. He pushed his grandson away to discover a dagger in his belly. “Wh… why?”

“He… he said I could live… he said I could live if I… if I killed you…” so that was it. “Besides, I could have the throne. A throne that should have been mine since a long time ago, not yours, grandfather. You have reigned long enough.”

“I… I never tried to have what is yours… I only… needed more time” it was true. He was tired, tired of ruling, tired of filling a void until youngsters were ready. He didn´t have anything against supporting them from the back, but… he was so tired. But the Long Night was no time to have a youngster ruling.
“Just until this is over.”

“Well, it´s already over and with it my reign begins. As soon as my ally…” he started coughing blood and his skin seemed to be freezing. “Wha… what is happening? What…?”

“Foolish boy, the Night King doesn´t have more allies than the ones he makes himself” the man coughed blood himself. Then let go of his abdomen and, in pain, walked to the boy, embracing him. “I should have taught you that better.”

“Grandfather… what…”

“Shhhh, it´s alright” the man caressed his head, as darkness encased them. There wasn´t any hope anymore. Volantis was the only place that remained, but now… now the World of the Living was lost. Or perhaps… “Everything is going to be okay.”

“How… how could…” the boy asked as he died.

“As my grandfather said” the last man standing said, looking at a green pool of liquid, then at a dragon with only one wing that was miraculously still alive, but barely. “That the invaders only conquer ashes. DRACARYS!!!”

Green flames erupted, consuming everything that was around them. He only felt them for a second, an entire second in agony. Then it was over. Darkness. Or so he thought. Because suddenly something pulled him out of what seemed his last resting place. Invisible chains dragged him towards the unknown. Or perhaps not so unknown. The place he ended up looked a lot like the Godswood in Winterfell. And when he looked around, known faces showed up. The faces he had grown up with, of people he had once called family. A family he had turned his back to long ago.

“What are you…”

WHAT A DISASTER YOU HAVE DONE… HOUSE STARK, THE PACK THAT SHOULD REMAIN UNITED AND LEAD DURING WINTER… BACKSTABBERS, GREED BLINDED, HONOUR BLINDED FOOLS. WHAT A DISASTER YOU HAVE DONE.

They all were listening, specially him. Anything was better than looking at the others there.

LEARN TO BE A FAMILY… LEARN TO BE PACK… AND RETURN WHEN DAWN HAS COME AGAIN TO THE LAND OF THE LIVING…

There was a blinding flash and suddenly they were no longer there…

-Winterfell-

Lord Eddard Stark opened his eyes, gasping as he jumped from the bed. By his side, his wife fall from the bed and crawled around on the floor, which was not usual in her. Ned and Catelyn looked at one another without understand. The last thing he remembered was his head getting cut off and then he was in that godswood… the last she remembered was that her throat was cut open by the Freys. But… they both kind of remembered the voice in the godswood that told them… to learn to become pack.

“Cat…”

“Ned” she finally got up from the floor. “Where…”

Suddenly there was a knock on the door.

“My Lord!! My Lady!!” the voice of Jory Cassel, long dead Jory Cassel, made Ned´s heart twist with guilt. “I´m sorry for bothering you so early in the morning, but your children and ward are fighting all over the family wing!!”

“What?”

Ned cursed and got dressed as quickly as he could. He was out of the room before his wife finished putting on her dress, walking towards where his children´s rooms were located. The sound of the pandemonium they were making reached him before he even managed to reach their rooms. Once there, he found an image even worse than he imagined. Robb had Theon by the sleeping wear, the ironborn not doing anything to defend himself as he was manhandled like a ragdoll by his eldest. Arya and Sansa were yelling at each other at the top of their voices, while Rickon jumped around his siblings, telling them something in a strange language and yelling about abandonment. Bran was between them trying to break the fights without much success. And Jon… Jon was by the end of the hallway. His room was the tiniest, coldest one in the family wing, far away from the ones of his siblings. That didn´t mean that they were not close, they were close… as long as he was aware of… so why was Jon merely watching from the side and not stopping his siblings?

“Okay, alright, break it up, all of you” Ned ordered, pulling Robb from Theon and putting himself between Sansa and Arya before their fights could end up in bloodshed. Be a pack, he reminded himself mentally, be a family.

“I will get rid of this traitor first!!”

“At least let me land a punch on her!!”

“The same!!”

“I don´t have to hear you, you abandoned me!!”

“It would be better if…”

Be a pack, an exasperated Eddard reminded himself, be a pack.

“We are going to break our fasts TOGETHER in my solar in half an hour” he said, giving each of the children one firm look. All of them returned it, apparently in protest. Theon was the only one that got straight as a rod. “I want to see you there, presentable and in your best behavior by then. Do you hear me?”

“I won´t break my fast with that…”

“I don´t care, Robb, nor I care for anything that any of you have to say. Half an hour” he turned back. He would give them an opportunity, after that, he was ready to start dishing up punishments.

“Alright, all, settle down” Jon joined him in an effort to calm everything down. Ned was about to thank him when he noticed something… artificial in the smile he was wearing. Something… strange. “You already heard Father, let´s get ready for the day.”

Ned watched Jon, trying to find out what was different with him. Sansa and Arya, even if they were angry at each other, shared a look by his side. They apparently agreed. Anyway, he didn´t think he would find out now, so he left to tell his wife that they were breaking their fast with only the children in his private solar. Catelyn nodded, wanting to hug her children and talk with each of them. She told him what Theon Greyjoy had done… what she thought he had done. Hand in hand, they walked to the Lord´s solar, finding the children there.

“Alright, we are all here” Robb said, crossing his arms. If he didn´t, he might kill Theon, who seemed to be trying to melt with the wall. “We have much to talk about”

“Yes, we…” Catelyn stopped when she noticed someone else in the room. “What is he doing here?!”

“I was also invited to this family meal, Lady Stark” Jon answered, a confidence in him that wasn´t there when they last saw him. Sansa and Arya narrowed their eyes in suspicion once more. “Or not?”

“Yes, you were” Ned clarified with a firm voice, then sat down on his chair. “All of us have much to talk about, Catelyn. So let´s begin”

Eddard was the first to tell his history. As the one who died first, his was a shorter history. It began with him in King´s Landing, trying to curve Robert´s spending and investigating the murder of Jon Arryn. He told them how he discovered that Queen Cersei´s children were not the King´s and what he planned to do so Robert didn´t hurt any child this time… but the King died before he could tell him the secret and he was double crossed by Littlefinger. Robb picked up the tale, glaring at Theon when he reached the moment of his treason.

“I didn´t do it” Theon explained, his gaze low. Nothing like the cocky ward Ned had meet. He almost seemed… submissive. And he ate so little that Ned almost felt pity for him. Even after what Cat and Robb told him about him. “I… I mean… I took Winterfell, but I didn´t kill Bran and Rickon. I… they escaped, so I found two boys their ages and…”

“That doesn´t excuse you, you traitor” the eldest Stark son glared at the one that yesterday was his best friend… apart from Jon. A Jon that was too calm to having just heard that history. “When I…”

“Robb” Lord Stark stopped him. “I think we should all calm down for a moment. Continue with your history.”

So Robb and Catelyn told him how they kept winning battles but losing the war, his marriage to the Westerling girl and how they were betrayed by the Freys and the Boltons. Sansa took the history from there and told him about Joffrey, her forced marriage to Tyrion and how she had to escape King´s Landing with Littlefinger. Then how she hid in the Vale as Alayne Stone, Baelish´s bastard daughter, and how his hands and eyes kept wandering over her. Then about how she went to Jon to try and reclaim their home with an army of wildlings and knights of the Vale. Arya told them about her travels with Yoren and the Hound… and mentioned her training in the House of Black and White. Bran and Rickon merely mentioned where they had been. Jon remained silent.

“The problem is, that even if we manage to defeat the Lannisters, we are still going to die” Sansa finally expressed. “The Long Night is coming from beyond the Wall and with it the dead. And if we don´t beat them…”

“You certainly didn´t expect us to…” Robb started.

“I have been there, Robb, been there and saw the horror of the Long Night. I have fought the Night King and been killed by his army. I assure you, the White Walkers are no horror history to terrify children into behaving, but another cold, hard truth.”

“Then… we should prepare for the too” Ned shook his head. With reason the Old Gods saw fit to turn back time and give them an advantage. “There is no option. When we get out, I´m telling Jory to prepare men and horses.”

“What are you going to do?” Bran asked.

“I´m ridding south hard and preventing Jon Arryn. We will apprehend the poisoner and make him or her confess that Cersei Lannister made him put the poison in his cup after he find out the truth about his children. I know that will also put the children in danger, but…”

“That´s stupid”

“What?!”

“Think a little, even if you kill your horse, you won´t reach Jon Arryn in time.”

“Even so…”

“Besides, it wasn´t Cersei Lannister that poisoned the Hand” Sansa seconded her brother, earning a surprised gaze from nearly everyone in the room. “And he won´t believe you if you told him who the real poisoner is.”

“Who?”

“Lysa Arryn, she dropped the poison in his cup when he was dinning” Catelyn put her hands on her mouth. “She did it at the orders of Petyr Baelish, her lover with whom she was obsessed for years. He used her to stir chaos and try to gain more power. Chaos is a ladder, he used to tell me that…”

“We could simply say it was Baelish…”

“He won´t believe you either” Brandon again tried to make him see reason. “We should focus on the Long Night.”

“The Wall will hold for a while, we need to focus on keeping the Realm together so the whole Realm face it when the time arrives.”

“But someone should go to the Wall anyway. Someone who knows what is going to come” Catelyn´s eyes landed on Jon Snow. “The bastard should go back to the Wall. He can become Lord Commander again when the Old Bear passed and prepare them for the Long Night, he has done it before.”

Surprisingly for many of them, Jon started to laugh at that statement. They were speechless as he cleaned his eyes from tears too.

“I´m sorry, it´s just that… what a funny joke” the boy continued to say as he tried not to laugh anymore. Then focused on Catelyn, who was red of fury. “Me? Going back to the Watch? NEVER” he made a movement with his hand that he didn´t recognize. “Even if you try to condemn me to that, I´m not going back.”

“Jon…”

“I thought that… it´s you, no?” Sansa glared at him with something akin to hatred. Jon´s hands again moved in a strange way. “Quit that!! You don´t have that damn thing anymore!!”

“Sorry, habits die hard” he explained, lowering his hand. Then he got up. “But that doesn´t change anything. I´m not going to the Wall, I´m not swearing any oath, much less for this family” he walked to the doors, but before getting out, he turned to them. “I´m not making the same mistakes again.”

Ned watched as his son walked out, surprised and concerned. That feeling didn´t evaporate. In fact, it got worse. Specially when he saw how Jon´s fighting style had changed to one that one would expect of someone fighting from over a big horse or something like that. Also when he realized how well Sansa can lie now or Bran´s visits to the Godswood. Theon also worried him. He had stopped going to the brothels and seemed to be submissive to everyone around. When he finally asked, the Greyjoy simply said that he was… well trained by the Boltons. He shivered just by thinking about that. One day, he caught Jon and Arya talking in a deserted passage.

“I know you hate me and you have reasons to hate me” she continued saying. “But I… I´m sorry and I want to… want you to forgive me…”

“And you thought that simply apologizing everything would be fine?” Jon answered, his eyes a mockery of what he used to look at her before. “That I would pat you in the head” he did so “and call you little sister?” a complete mockery of their former relationship. “Give up, Arya Stark. As I would never forgive you for the pain you have put me through. Not you nor this family.”

Ned gulped. Jon sounded so… so cold. What had happened while he was gone? What had happened to his family? It was so… concerning…

-In King´s Landing-

Jaime opened his eyes as he screamed. The last thing he remembered was the collapsing tunnel under the Red Keep where he had been buried alive with his sister, and then being forced to see how things developed in Westeros, the Starks usurping the Targaryens and everything… and his little brother was in the middle of everything. He would strangle Tyrion if he had him in front of him right now, specially because of what he did to Daenerys. Without the dragons, Westeros was lost to the Walker. And when they got involved, it was already too late to change turns. Winter had come… and with it death. And Brienne, his Brienne…

But that was not all. He also remembered a person in armor showing himself to him and telling him to do better this time.

“Are you alright, Ser Jaime?” Barristan asked as he went down to have breakfast with his brothers of the Kingsguard. “You look a little pale today.”

“I´m fine, don´t worry” he answered quickly and sat down, serving himself bacon. “I just woke up feeling a little cold…”

“You schedule to watch the Queen today, so…”

“Oh, no, I don´t think so” Jaime interjected. “Ser Mandon, can we change? You guard my sister and I my niece?” the man simply nodded. “Thank you”

Barristan looked at him as if he had grown a second head. Jaime didn´t care. He had returned to his sister, yes, but after everything she had done… well, he was fed up with Cersei. With Tyrion too. His siblings had left the Realm in a truly pathetic state because of their selfishness, so he didn´t really have the wish to talk to either of them. Unfortunately, luck was not on his side. He found Tyrion playing cyvasse with Myrcella when he arrived to his shift.

“Oh, brother, glad you joined us” the dwarf saluted, earning a frown from his older brother. “Do you want to play cyvasse? I was teaching our niece.”

“Against you? No, thank you” Jaime wanted nothing more than grab his daughter and ran away from there, but his brother didn´t seem to want him to leave. “Princess, good morning. Is there anywhere you want to go?”

“No, thank you, uncle. I´m having fun here”

The rest of his shift was so tense that it could be cut with a knife. And when it was finally over, his brother decided to follow him. Jaime was starting to get angry when Tyrion finally said…

“So you finally decided to leave Cersei for Brienne, eh?” he stopped cold. “Not that I blame you, she spells disaster…”

“Like you?”

“You hurt me, brother, and here I thought we were getting on okay again.”

“That was until you decided to usurp the Targaryens and set up the Kingdom to be destroyed by the Long Night” the knight answered, glaring at his brother. “It was you who convinced Jon Snow to kill Daenerys Targaryen and who sound those bells.”

“Brother, you are not seeing the…”

“No, I have it clear. You don´t care about anyone else, but you, Tyrion. You are just like Cersei and I was blind to think otherwise. I won´t follow either of you again.”

“Too bad, because I have a plan to stop the Long Night… and that involved the Targaryens. No usurpation, of course, that was a mistake!!” he held his hands up. “A way for all of us to survive and to defeat the Long Night.”

“Unless Daenerys Targaryen or Jon Snow already know about you, then your plan would mean nothing.”

“I hope they don´t, because I don´t have the wish to end up my days as a dragon´s meal” the dwarf continued. “By the way, who brought you here?”

“What do you mean?”

“We were brought to the past by the Gods, the Seven to be precise. The Crone was the one who visited me… and I guess the Warrior was the one that came to you. What did he say?”

“Not much, only to do better” Jaime frowned. “And who are the other ones? It could be anyone. Brienne could be the Maiden… she wasn´t a maid when she died, but…”

“Well, you should know” Tyrion continued. “The Smith could be Gendry, he didn´t stop being one even when he was made a Lord. And the Stranger… Arya Stark?” he frowned. “The Mother and Father…”

“Daenerys and Jon Snow?”

“I certainly hope not!! The both of them are bad news!!” the younger Lannister crossed his arms. “Daenerys burned King´s Landing… and Jon Snow, once he embraced his Targaryen heritage, also continued with the honorable family tradition of burning it all. They were certainly one for the other.”

“And you have something to do with that, no?” Jaime glared at his brother. “Very well, guess I don´t have any other option but going on with your plan, as I don´t have my own. But try to double cross me and…”

“Jaime, Jaime, in all of Westeros, you are the only person I would never double cross” they stared at each other. “Alright, doubt me if you want, only follow my lead. The first thing we have to do is try and strike Baelish from the board. Before he had the chance to take out Jon Arryn. In case we fail… let´s pin the murder on Pycelle and make sure Eddard Stark remains with his little family in the North.”

“What?”

“Come on, brother, don´t tell me you don´t see the sense in that” Tyrion continued. “Eddard Stark is needed in the North preparing his frozen little Kingdom to become a first line of defense against the ice monsters, not here in the south playing politics.”

“No, I… I know that Lord Stark is needed in the North, but why pin the murder on Pycelle if we don´t catch Lysa Arryn and Littlefinger? He is Father´s man, yes, but…”

“Because he is Cersei´s man in the absence of Father and I don´t want him spying on us in the meantime” the dwarf said. “And you have to understand that the last thing you fucking have do when we visit Winterfel, because we will fucking do that, is to be in that Tower with fucking Cersei…”

“That without saying” he sighed. “What about the others?”

“We will cross that bridge when we came to it. Or burn it, in case they don´t understand.”

-Back in the North-

The arrival of House Glover gave him a little respite from having to share space with the Starks. He guessed that it came with knowing who he was this time, with knowing that his sigil wasn´t covered in fur but in scales. That the fire that burned in him wasn´t the ice in their veins. He was the dragon hidden between the wolves, after all, and he wasn´t going to cower against them or bow his head. He will answer with fire and blood. Anyway, it was a blessing being invisible to most of the population in Winterfell, he could do whatever he want. Even recovering a small piece of his family history, something that belonged to the only Stark he still considered a family… one long gone.

“My Prince?” a voice coming from behind make him stop. He looked behind himself and saw little Larence Snow… or was he truly Larence Snow?

“Larence” the boy went to his knees. “You came with the Glovers, no?”

“Larence Saeragyon of the Fourteen Knights of the flame salutes the Prince Regent” he said, putting his sword on the ground. “And offers him sword to him again, in hopes to right his mistakes of the past.”

“Don´t worry about that, there was no much we could have done when the Long Night came to us. But now…” the dragon put a hand on his shoulder. “there are many things that could be avoided.”

“My Prince…”

“Don´t worry, my friend, soon our own plans are going to be set into motion. I will right the wrongs that committed against us. And when that happens, I promise you that you will return to your Helaena… just like I will return to my own wife´s arms.”

Jon smiled, covering his face with the fan he had pilfered from his mother´s belongings on the Broken Tower. Valyrian steel shone in it, the rubies that decorated it too. An ancient Valyrian relic from House Targaryen… just like the dragons. He wondered for a second if the North knew what a diamond they lost when they got rid of him, just like with his loyal Larence. Well, he guessed he would leave them to find out later. Once his plans were set into motion. Once his flames were reunited again…

-In Pentos-

A girl´s eyes opened, fire still in her eyes as she left the presence of the Red God. She put a hand over her chest, as to cover the injury that had finished her life. She remembered the weight of her daughter in her arms… a daughter that wasn´t even born yet but she couldn´t forget… just like her other children. Her children were not there… but her love was. And soon, soon they would be reunited. She could feel it in her chest. For now, she had to focus on leaving that place. She refused to be sold like a broodmare again, that little girl had died a long time ago. The woman that was born when she died was someone stronger, someone she knew could survive and thrive.

“I´m Daenerys Stormborn, Mother of Dragons and Breaker of Chains” she smirked. “And will recover everything that belonged to me.” She got out of bed. “Now… where are my children?”

Chapter Text

The first thing Brienne did was scream. Scream because… because being eaten alive by wights was something horrible. Then she realized that, before arriving to that bed, she had indeed been in… other place. What place? She wasn´t entirely sure, only that… she was in company of someone so beautiful that she couldn´t help but think that in front of her, even women like Margaery Tyrell or Daenerys Targaryen would feel inferior. The female knight remembered that the gentle maiden offered her a beautiful smile and told her that she was going to travel… towards her one love. Also bid her not to commit the same mistakes as before… but what mistakes did she commit? All she did, she did following her own conscience and notion of honor. There was nothing wrong with what she did… or was there? Perhaps it was because they lost the Long Night, she thought. Yes, it had to be that.

“Brienne!!!” Lord Selwyn Tarth opened the door of his daughter´s room. Brienne looked at him… it had been too long since they had last saw each other. Practically since much before his death. She didn´t want to, but… and… “Has something happened? Are you alright?”

Having her father worry so much about her made guilt bloom in her chest once more. Lord Selwyn had been a good father and supported her in everything, even… well… the fact was that she owed her father a lot even before renouncing her claim to join the Kingsguard or losing the Long Night. And how did she pay him back? Not even attending to his funeral. Just that made her feel so guilty that she couldn´t help but embrace her father.

“I´m alright, father, it was only a nightmare” she answered, hugging him tightly. Maybe this was one of the mistakes the Maiden, because she was sure the strange visitor was the Maiden herself, mentioned she committed. She needed to fix everything with Selwyn. “Father?”

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Thank you”

“What?”

“Thank you, father, for everything” she started. “For always supporting me, for standing this disappointment of a daughter that can´t even get a husband, for allowing me to pursue martial pursuits and…”

“Brienne, Brienne, stop” her father smiled at her. “You don´t need to thank me for that, your smile was all the thanks I needed. So don´t think more about that or the nightmare you supposedly had and get back to sleep.”

“Right” the female knight answered and rearranged her covers so she could get back to sleep, then remembered something. “I… was thinking about going to King´s Landing one of these days. To visit Lord Renly.”

“Our gallant Lord Renly really gave you an impression, no?” a member of the Kingsguard was more her type now than her first love, but there was no way she was telling Selwyn that. “I guess you can go a few days, I need to contact the King about some pirates that crossed our waters lately, so I can send my heir… but you can´t stay there with Lord Renly!! You have to return sooner than later!!”

“Of course, father”

“Good, then you depart in a few days” Selwyn walked to the door. “Goodnight, Brienne.”

“Good night, father.”

As she laid back on the bed, she couldn´t help but dream about the Dragon Fury and the second Long Night. Frankly, she had believed that the world would end in a blazing hot, burnt to ashes by the Children of Daenerys. Then she realized that the world, even the dragons, would end in the Ice of the Night King. She wasn´t sure which was worse. And the Dragons left them alone to fend the wights and White Walkers by themselves… he hoped they found a death as horrible as them Westerosi. And now that she thought about death, there was one regret that she had, one regret that she would do everything to undo…
Brienne took off with guards the next week towards King´s Landing. She was wearing her armor, the same she had used in the tourney where Renly admitted her into his Rainbow Guard. She smiled a bit when she remembered it… something that wasn´t going to happen this time around. Over the time, she had understood that Renly´s defeat was inevitable. He was… beautiful and shinny like copper, and like copper he wasn´t worth much. His charisma was great, but he didn´t understand what it truly meant to rule. He would make a mess, one even worse than his brother Robert. Even so…

“Lady Tarth!! I wasn´t informed that you were going to come!!” Renly saluted her with a smile. Behind him, Loras Tyrell was watching her with a smile that clearly said what he thought about her. It was thanks to idiots like him that she got the moniker “the Beauty”.

“I was sent by my father to talk to King Robert and Lord Stannis about a recent pirate problem near Tarth” she answered, a smile gracing her face. “I was hoping to get an audience quickly?”

“Of course, but my brother is very busy lately, so perhaps they would make you wait. You don´t have a problem with that, no?”

“Not at all” she answered, even if she had to time her departure. She turned around and then she stopped herself. Jaime Lannister was there, following a young girl that could only be his bastard daughter Myrcella.

Jaime stopped in his tracks too, his eyes widening as they made contact with hers. She didn´t need any more explanation, he remembered her. He remembered her and… it was then that he appeared. And watching her in that way. The former Lord Hand of Brandon the Broken, Lord Tyrion Lannister of Casterly Rock. He was watching her in that way, as if he was evaluating her and trying to uncover her secrets to manipulate her… Jaime also noticed and made a gesture as he pushed his daughter to walk faster. She understood immediately, they would talk later. Where Tyrion couldn´t hear them. It was a pleasure to know that she wasn´t the only one that understood just how dangerous the Imp could be.

“Lady Tarth…”

“I follow you, Lord Renly”

Brienne followed the Master of Laws. She was offered a refreshment, but she decided to go without it. By tea time, she decided to have her meal in the small garden near to where Princess Myrcella was allowed to have her own private ones. It was bland, unlike the other ones, but it brought her calm. Besides, it was hidden from the eyes of the Keep.

“I thought I would find you here” Jaime said, still in his armor of the Kingsguard, sitting down in front of her. “Would you mind…”

“Help yourself” she answered, a bit cold. “Are you and your sister…”

“I haven´t even stepped a foot inside my sister´s chambers since I came back. I mean…” he looked guiltily at her. “Leaving you to come back to her was a mistake. Even loving her was a mistake in the first place. And Tyrion… they are the same, ambitious and cunning and I was only their puppet until…”

“I know Tyrion, what he is capable of too” she sighed. “On one of our few conversations, Jocelyn told me that he was going to be the ruin of the Seven Kingdoms” she shook her head. “I should have heard her, that girl was wiser beyond her years, you would be proud of her.”

“Proud of… her?” Jamie asked as he swallowed a bit of cake. “Why?”

“You… truly don´t know?” he shook his head. “Tyrion didn´t tell you?” the look the Lannister put when his lover mentioned his younger brother told her everything. “That worm… I guess it made sense that he didn´t tell you about her, after all, it was him that he opposed to her being legitimized as a Lannister and given Casterly Rock… even if I was glad she became Lady of Tarth…”

“You lost me”

“I… guess there is no other way to tell you than the direct one: we had a daughter, her name was Jocelyn” Brienne confessed. “I… didn´t really have much to do with her raising because of my duties as Commander of the Kinsguard, something that I truly regret. My father raised her for me… we weren´t close at that point and I guess Jocelyn took after him… the distance between me and her grew as she became Lady of Tarth after my father passed…”

“How… how was she?” Jamie tried to picture that daughter of his. He got to know all his children by Cersei, this child by Brienne… he should have stayed with her. “I… was she happy?”

“I… guess she was” the female knight looked down at her tea. “She didn´t write to me personally… but she seemed to be. She got your precious face and beautiful golden locks, so she had more luck than me to get a husband. A Penrose second or third son… and she didn´t invite me to her wedding. Neither told me when she made me a grandmother” she shook her head. “Tyrion didn´t like her at all.”

“I don´t like him much right now either, less with what you have told me” Jamie took a sip from his own tea. “But I feel compelled to ask why.”

“He once said to me that my daughter was Tywin Lannister reborn”

“So she was like Cersei…”

“No, Jocelyn was many things, but not like your fool of a sister. She was… smart. Cunning when she had to be. No wonders Tyrion felt threatened by her” a tear felt down her face. “It took the Long Night to take her down.”

“I´m sorry” he joined his hand with her. “We can do better now, better with this second chance. I will remain alive to see her be born and grow up… I will make sure Tyrion doesn´t get in her way either, that we are both alive to raise her…”

“If the Night King crosses the Wall again…”

“That isn´t going to happen” Jaime promised. “We are going to make sure that fucker is defeated. And not only that, but that he isn´t capable of coming back.”

“Don´t promise things you can keep”

“I can do anything for you and my children.” Even working with his menace of a brother to secure the peace. “Jocelyn is one of them now.”

“And Joffrey?”

“The exception to the rule” the Kingsguard got up. “I have to go now, but I will send you a message soon. We need to be careful though, I´m sure Cersei is searching for the reason I´m refusing her now. And Tyrion… I don´t trust him either.”

“Me neither” Brienne got up. “Is he planning something?”

“I think he is making plans for many things already, some of them that we aren´t going to like at all” he looked around. “I will try to stay by his side and learn as much as I can from those plans before they actually affect us. Or they cause a worse war.”

“He won´t risk it, not with the Battle for the Dawn so close. He is not that stupid” the heiress of Tarth crossed her arms. “We should focus on stopping the war of the Five Kings. In that, your brother will be our ally.”

“He already is” Jaime finished another cake. “He is making plans as we talk for Arryn´s murder to fall on Baelish or Pycelle´s heads. So, if you heard that either the Grand maester or the master of Coin has been executed for treason, you already know whose fault it is.”

“It won´t be that bad” she looked around carefully. “We have spent enough time together. A little bit more and your sister will begin to think I am the reason you are refusing her.”

“Let me deal with Cersei, I want to hear more about Jocelyn.”

“Jaime… you know we can´t” she got up. “If Cersei or Tyrion ever learn of this, it can bring us a lot of troubles. Better for them to think that… we don´t know each other.” She walked away. “Now, I have a last place I need to be in before talking to Robert and leave King´s Landing.”

“Where?”

Brienne didn´t answer, she simply left. Jaime will have to find out on his own. As for her, she went to the Street of Steel. To the best smithy there was. She told the owner that she wanted a new set of armor, also that she heard that he had a pretty talented apprentice, one that has made a helmet with the shape of a bull. She was taken to Gendry Waters immediately to discuss her armor… or should she said Gendry Baratheon? The former Lord of Storm´s End threw her a look of warning and took her to the back of the smithy, where he was sure no one would hear them.

“How did you know?”

“I thought that the only one the Smith could choose would be the best craftsman of our time and that is undoubtedly you, my lord. No one else has managed to produce Valyrian steel…” Gendry shuddered by that. “In the conversation, I mentioned the armor you made for Boros Baratheon. The only one that had that name in the recent times is…”

“My firstborn, I know” the smith turned his face. “Guess my reaction to his name gave me up” it would give up anyone, Brienne wanted to add, Boros Baratheon had a particularly gruesome death. “What do you want?”

“Ask you for Valyrian Steel”

“You can forget about it” Gendry said with a tense face. “I don´t have the materials needed to produce that kind of steel just now. And, even if I had, I would be reluctant to offer it to you.”

“But if you got the materials…”

“I won´t do it anyway”

“Gendry…”

“I´m too worried about staying alive right now. If you haven´t noticed, Cersei Lannister is going to kill Robert Baratheon´s bastards as soon as her wretch of a son is on the throne and I need to be away from here before that. Even with a job as a smith apprentice, you don´t get the amount of money to start over overnight being a bastard or a peasant.”

“Why haven´t you gone to the North if that worries you? The Starks would have received you”

“Brienne, the Starks are the reason things became as bad as they ended up before. And, even if I still had a certain amount of trust in them, I can´t risk going to Winterfell right now, not with Jon Snow there” he shook his head. “If he is like us and sees me, he will definitely kill me. That is something I won´t risk.”

“Then… why don´t you come to Tarth with me? Our smith is turning old and has no apprentice. A new one would be very welcomed.”

“And what? Fight for my uncle Renly?” Gendry asked, carefully watching the Lady. He had heard about Renly from his goodfamily, the Estermonts. They painted him as charismatic, but utterly unworthy of being King, a summer knight that won´t survive one second in a true battle. Not like Robert… or Gendry. “No, thank you”

“We are working on stopping the War of the Five Kings. And, even if we don´t manage, Tarth is going to remain neutral… for everyone´s sake.”

“I trust you to be sincere and honorable, Ser” he answered after a few moments to evaluate her offer. “Alright, I will accompany you. But don´t expect me to offer you any Valyrian Steel, now or ever.”

Brienne nodded and walked away after shaking hands with him. She smiled, her next suit of armor is going to be a work of art. And she might change Gendry´s mind with time. They needed the Valyrian Steel after all. She walked towards the castle and wondered how Jaime was going to react when she told him that she was going to house the Smith´s chosen, the forger of Valyrian Steel, was going to be in Tarth. He was going to be so…

“Welcome back, Lady Tarth” a voice got her out of her thoughts. She looked down and saw the dwarf looking up at her. “Or should I say Lord Commander?”

“It´s a pleasure to see you again, Lord Tyrion”

-In another place-

The complete white had enveloped him, he couldn´t see anything but it. Not after the White Walkers overran the Wall and killed him and his men in the process. Yes, he had gone to the Wall. Why? He hadn´t committed any crime, there was no need… but there was. There was. And they were awfully unprepared when they realized that their watch was not over. He did everything he could, wondering more than once why he was shielding the World of the Living when he had nothing left? And when his reasons to fight, the family he left behind to pursue whatever honor he was pursuing (a notion they would never understand), came to his mind, he could only feel repulsed. They were all like his brother… or worse. What they had become, honorless tyrants and idiots that didn´t care about anyone but themselves… it made him want to hurl. But also… gave him a reason. So he died with that reason in his mouth. Axel Tully, Trystane Tully, Lysa Arryn… those names repeated. They were all he had left.

Brynden… a voice called in the middle of the whiteness. Brynden Tully…

He looked around in alarm, wondering who was talking. There was no one there… was there? He then noticed two figures that were walking towards him. The knight searched for his sword with his hand, but found nothing. As the figures continued to approach, he noticed that he knew one of them. It had silver hair and those dark purple eyes that haunted him until his last moment, even if in his dreams belonged to another man. The man his family had hurt the most. The man who accompanied him was… like those one of those images in the Sept of Riverrun. Specifically, the Father.

Brynden Tully… the god, because that was the only thing he could be, called him.

“Are you here to punish me, my lord?” the Blackfish asked, looking warily at them. “Is Daeron here for me to see one last time before I´m thrown into the Seven Hells for my failures?”

Good heavens, child, no… the Father quickly dismissed his insecurities… we are here to offer you something.

“How? How could you offer me something when everything I have done in my life is fail? I couldn´t keep Cat and Robb alive, nor Lysa… and the others… I couldn´t keep them on the right path… couldn´t make them do the honorable thing… and in the end… in the end… even when I was trying to do the right thing… their greed was the end of everything.”

They were not the only ones…

“No, but they contributed a lot. And their greed and hunger for power made us an enemy of the dragons, so they would no longer help us. Without them…”

Oh, Brynden, it wasn´t your fault, it was never your fault… the Father approached, putting a hand on his shoulder… My poor boy, you have always tried to be a father to your brother´s children, to put them on the right path as you knew their father won´t.

“My brother didn´t know anything about honor”

And that´s the reason you tried to teach it to those girls and boy about honor. So they could learn it and teach it to their children and they became people of good… the god continued… but they didn´t. War transformed them, split the children of your beloved nieces and nephew from you and turned them into self-centered creatures that only cared for their personal power. In the end, you reached the breaking point… even your nephew, who you practically raised, was like that… another greedy Hoster…

“They were willing to usurp kin, to usurp…” he looked desperately at the man that accompanied the Father there. “Daeron, I´m so sorry. After so many years, I´m still undeserving of the love and trust you put in me.”

“You were never undeserving, Brynden” the long dead Targaryen prince approached his lover, a smile on his face. “You did everything you could.”

“I allowed them to usurp your blood, not once or twice, but many times over… they were so… for the Seven, they were willing to murder kin!! Murder kin for power!! Little children!! I… I couldn´t take it anymore. I couldn´t…” the Blackfish kneeled in front of the other man. “I´m sorry, Daeron, I´m so sorry. Jeremy would have been so much better for you, he… he died by your side… the only thing I ever did was falling you. I couldn´t… couldn´t even save you…”

“My Brynden, dead arrives for everybody. It´s a pity that I had to depart so early, with Jeremy by my side and leave you behind” Daeron approached him, putting his arms around him like did when they had a moment of privacy and he wanted to show him his love. “It was never your fault. And it was never mine” he placed a hand on his chest. “Here is where I will be forever, my spirit will never leave you… my love, my Blackfish.”

“Daeron…” he felt at peace now, again in Daeron´s arms, and he didn´t want to leave again.

“You and I couldn´t have our own children, never. Even if I had lived enough and spent my life by your side… but you found children to love as your own. Now, you could perhaps save them… and also the children of my own blood, who had lost themselves to ire and coldness. Perhaps you could save more than their honor…”

“What?! But…”

“I know, my love, I know” he looked back, at the god that was watching them with a sad smile on his face. “I know it hurts to part so soon after we reunited… but the Father has chosen you for an important mission. You who tried to be a father to so many without having children of your own body, who tried to stir them in the path of goodness… try again.”

“Daeron…”

“And remember that I will always be with you, no matter what, my spirit is always with you. So don´t have hurry to die”

“Daeron, I…” Brynden stopped himself. His family… that last generation might be rotten, but there were still innocents that deserved to be saved. That deserved a life. “I understand” he turned to the Father and kneeled. “I will serve you, Father, as an anointed knight must.”

Good… the god smiled at him again… you are about to begin a great trip again. As I turn back the sands of time, you will reach the beginning of the history that leads to the end. Another chance will be granted to you to right the wrongs… so don´t fail.

“It will be done as you say” he turned to see his love one last time. “Daeron…”

“I´m always with you” their lips touched one last time. “Always”

Brynden woke up in that moment, but he wasn´t in his room at Castle Black anymore. No, he was in the Vale again. His room when he was Knight of the Bloody Gate, barely illuminated as every morning before that catastrophe that was the War of the Five Kings… but it was not. He could still taste Daeron on his lips and remember everything that took them there. He grabbed the Blackfish pin he always carried with him (a dragonglass piece from Dragonstone, gift of Daeron himself) and kissed it.

“I won´t fail again” he said as he grabbed quill and parchment. He had to warn Cat immediately.

-In another place-

Loneliness was nearly suffocating… but he had chosen this loneliness. He could very well be with Ash and the others, enjoying the family he had there or the brothers he still had to meet… but he had chosen loneliness. Why? Because it reminded him of his failure. And everything that failure had caused. How could he face his best friend knowing how it all ended? How could he hug his family when he knew what his failure had brought? And Stark… damn the day he married that Tully bitch and spawned those abominable brats!!

Rhaegar had suffered a lot with what had happened. All the planning, all the studying, everything he did to prevent the end… and it was for nothing. But that was not what hurt the most. What hurt the most was seeing what they did to his son. His once innocent and caring son, the one that loved them the most… they had ripped that heart out, chew it and spat it´s remains on the snow. He wanted to kill Stark again on the moment he realized what his children had done… but the gods kept him away. They had important things in reserve for Stark.

Arthur Dayne… Sword of the Morning…

The White Cloak turned around to see who was breaking his solitude and found a dark cloaked being coming his way. It was no human soul.

“The Stranger, I suppose” he said, crossing his arms. “It is a surprise that you have come to me, I thought you only came to people when it is their moment to die” the knight held his gaze. “We haven´t seen each other since the Tower of Joy.”

Arthur Dayne… dead before the time of need… dead before his time… wouldn´t you want to fix things?

“How could things be fixed? They have long since passed. The White Walkers govern now and the only thing in their frozen world apart from them is their undead thralls.”

The Last Hero set their King ablaze, so they have also lost… but there is nothing left either, live or dead, so the gods are no longer needed and in time will also disappear to give way to a new world… unless we fix things

“Fix things?”

My brothers and sisters are choosing champions in this moment and so I am. I want you to be my chosen one. Would you accept?

“What would it mean to accept?”

It means that you are going to be sent back to the beginning. Not as a ghost or a specter, but as a full human again. Just like in the moment you died, death will turn back in time… but a few years in the future, when the War of the Five King was about to explode.

“But… but how is that going to…”

He will have a loyal sword by his side, someone that is willing to remind him that there are some people who will always be by his side. Are you willing to accept, Arthur Dayne?

Arthur thought about the petition for more than a moment. If he were to accept, he could protect his King like he should have done since he was born. He could keep his promise to Rhaegar and even protect the Queen. Seven Hells, he could even have his revenge against Stark and Jaime Lannister… but, at the same time… NO

“Alright, I accept” he answered. “Send me back to the beginning, I will be your champion and make everything in my power so humanity survives. Everything for the King.”

The Stranger only nodded before the scenery disappeared from Arthur´s view to be replaced by a storm of sand and a sensation he could never describe. Piece by piece, in the middle of the sands of his homeland, Arthur´s body was reconstructed until he looked the same as he did the day Howland Reed and Eddard Stark killed him, except for his Kingsguard armor. He was instead wearing a dark combination of breeches and tunic with a black hood. And attire worthy of the champion of Death.

“Alright, time to start” he pushed his hood over his hair and started walking. There was a long way to Starfall, after all, and he was long due a visit to his family.

-In Winterfell-

Eddard Stark had waited for long, wanting to give the children space and for them to come to him for advice about their problems. Unfortunately, most of them seemed to only trust themselves. He had made progress with Robb and Rickon, but the others seemed… almost like strangers. The Lord of Winterfell was puzzled, he couldn´t even say he knew his own children anymore. Cat was helping, but… there was one child that his wife would never look after.

“Jon, wait” he stopped his son in the middle of the corridor. The boy turned around, his curtain of hair falling around his shoulders. The transformation in Jon had been incredible. And not only in his attitude, in his appearance too. His usual northern appearance has changed for one more… Valyrian. He had let his hair grow and held it half back. His dark eyes glinted purple with how the light hit them.

“Yes, my lord?”

“Son, you… you can call me father when we aren´t…”

“I prefer not to say any lies, my lord. At least not between ourselves” he looked at Lord Stark with something akin to disdain. Or was it disappointment? “If you excused me, I have things to do in Wintertown. There are a few idiots there waiting for me to relieve them of their money in the gambling table.”

“Gam… Jon, you gamble?! Since when?! Why?!”

But his son didn´t answer, he simply went away. Eddard watched him without understanding. Where had he gone wrong? He had raised his children to be good people and now Sansa was a liar, Arya confessed she was a murderer, Bran didn´t care about anything and Jon gambled. He… he didn´t know what to do anymore.

“Be a pack, be a family” he reminded himself and moved forward. It was time to do some talking.

Chapter Text

Olenna Tyrell´s eyes opened and she difficultly lifted herself from the bed, flexing her hands. Before she could do something else, her personal maid, one that had died along with her granddaughter and youngest grandson when the Sept of Baelor exploded in green fire, entered to help her dress for the day. The former Lady of Highgarden stood in front of the mirror, a mirror showing her old, withered body unlike the image of her youth she had become in the afterlife. Her joints ached again and if she stopped breathing…

So this was it. The Mother really visited her and fulfilled her promise. She sent her to the past… and she was not the only one. But who else could it be?
Her questions evaporated in her mind when she entered the Main Hall of Highgarden and was greeted by the image of her family, alive and well. Her darling rose, Margaery was laughing at something Loras said, as if they hadn´t ever disappeared in an explosion of green fire. Willas was reading something, Alerie by his side, trying to make him leave work. The both of them were slaughtered by Lannister troops before they could flee King´s Landing. Garlan… gallant Garlan that died at war, leaving his Leonette a war widow that was then killed by Jaime Lannister´s soldiers when they tried to reach Olenna. Even her oafish son, Lord Puffish, was there eating like it was his last meal…

“Mother? Aren´t you going to accompany us?” Mace asked when he noticed her presence in the entrance of the room. When no witty response came from her, he truly worried. “Do you feel alright? Should I call the maester?”

“No, Mace, I´m… I´m alright” the aging widow then made the effort to walk towards Willas and gave him a kiss in the top of the head. “Good morning, darling.”

“Morning, grandmother”

She did it with every member of her family, surprising them. Olenna had never been the most affectionate mother and grandmother… not that she starved her descendants of love, but she had her own way of showing it… but right now she was. The Tyrell matriarch allowed herself to savor that morning with her family, enjoying that she had recovered her, listening to their histories again and even telling some of her own. Then, after a tea time with Margaery and visiting Desmera and Mina, she finally got serious. But before…

“Thank you, Mother” she said, lowering her head in front of the statue in the Sept of Highgarden. “Thank you for giving me this second change. I promise you I will do whatever I need to do what you sent me to do. And that my family survives.”

After leaving the Sept, the aging woman sat down in her favorite bench in the rose garden, looking at Margaery and Desmera walk through them. Hummmm… Margaery. Her first mistake was letting her priced rose marry a shiny but unworthy Stag that preferred her brother to her. No, that was Mace´s mistake. One she wasn´t fast enough to avoid. It was no surprise when Renly fell despite having the advantage of numbers. The man thought war was a tourney, for the Seven´s sake!! Anyway, the next mistake had been marrying her beloved granddaughter to a Lannister bastard… both Lannister bastards. Joffrey was cruel and stupid and Tommen a little boy. None of them were worthy of her. She thought that Tywin Lannister would be able to keep them on the throne and his daughter under control… what a great mistake. And she would die before putting any of her precious grandchildren near Cersei Lannister again. But first… first they need allies.

“Willas dear” she said, entering her grandson´s office that afternoon, just before dinner. “I thought that we could talk.”

“Yes, grandmother?” the young man asked, pushing his books aside. The Tyrell Matriarch had been strange since that morning, almost nothing like her usual self. It almost made him worry. “Is there something you need?”

“I thought that we could perhaps invite that Dornish snake friend of yours” Olenna said, almost feeling a bitter taste in her mouth. She hated that Viper for crippling her grandson, but right now she hated the Lannisters even more. And she needed allies. They were allies in the past… the future… whatever. The thing was that she knew they would be on the Targaryen´s side. “It´s been a long time since you have seen him.”

“Vi… you mean Prince Oberyn?” now Willas was worried. Olenna HATED Oberyn Martell, she would never invite him if it was her choice. And right now… “Grandmother, are you sure you are alright? Maester Lomas can give you…”

“Oh, nothing is wrong, darling. Or perhaps it´s just that Lord Puffish has done too many stupid things lately” or would. Beginning with the big Renly mistake. “My oaf of a son will never learn, I could tell you.”

“Whatever Father did, I´m sure it was not that bad”

“No, Willas, they are not. The worst mistakes are made by people that are smart… or believe they are” she rose herself from her seat. “Anyway, send him an invitation. I´m sure one from you can pull him out of whatever Dornish whorehouse he has taken residence in this time of the year.”

“Grandmother!!”

“What? You think his reputation didn´t reach my ears?” Olenna went away as she smiled. Willas will do as she said. And he did.

Roughly a month later, Oberyn Martell, the Red Viper of Dorne, arrived to Highgarden. The Tyrell family except for Willas and Olenna were surprised and not at all amused to see the dornish prince. Mace had the biggest scowl Olenna had seen in her idiot of a son and Alerie seemed to have swallowed a lemon… not that it mattered. It was the Queen of Thorns the one that needed to talk to the Viper, not them. As the dornish dismounted, the old woman realized the small size of his entourage. And that neither his paramour nor his daughters were there. Suspicious. Anyway, she let Willas and Oberyn greet each other and catch up for a while. After they returned from a horse trip, the Queen of Thorns approached the Dornish Prince.

“Good evening, Prince Oberyn”

“Good evening to you, Lady Olenna” he answered, bowing a bit. “Frankly speaking, I was a little surprised that you asked Willas to invite me. I thought you didn´t approve of his friendship with me?”

“I didn´t, but… it´s good to cultivate relationships between nobility, no?”

“Indeed” the Viper followed her game. “As a thank you gift for inviting me, I brought some very special tea leaves from Dorne. Do you want to sample them with me now?”

“Sure, why not?”

Olenna and Oberyn sat down alone. They let the servants prepare everything and then the woman dismissed them with a shake of her hand. Then she ordered Left and Right to stand guard on the door, making sure no one listened. The Viper didn´t stop her, a knowing look on his face. As Olenna sampled her tea, her eyes opened a bit. This was a tea she had had before… with Ellaria Sand. When they were allies under Daenerys Targaryen.

“You surprised me” Oberyn said, also drinking the tea to show there was no danger. “But then again, I was warned that I was not the only one” he sighed. “Damn, it has been one hell of a ride. Especially knowing what Ellaria did to Doran and Trystane and that my girls participate in her treason…”

“So you remember” she hasn´t expected to find another one of the chosen so fast. Anyway, things were made simple like that. “I suppose that your family is a mess right now.”

“Not so much, I only… prefer the company of my younger daughters now” the Prince left his tea on the table. “But that´s not why you asked me to come all the way here, no? there could be only one reason and it´s still far: Daenerys Targaryen.”

“Yes, that´s the reason, but before that… who sent you? The Crone? The Smith?”

“None of them” Oberyn answered. “Mother Rhyone did. She said she needed someone with Rhyonar blood in the past and that I was a good choice to her despite having died so early” he huffed. “Guess I impressed her.”

“Mother Rhyone?” now Olenna was dumbfounded. That the Seven were real was one thing, but that the Rhyonish River Goddess was…

“Why are you so surprised? The Long Night is coming, and that means the end of the Gods. All of them, not only the Andal ones” he sighed. “The only way to avoid it is to defeat the Others before they crossed the Wall and that could only be achieved if Daenerys Targaryen´s dragons become our weapons.”

“She is also a rather competent leader when she puts her head into it” The Queen of Thorns commented with fondness. “I think she would make a good bride for our Willas…”

“She will have to marry Quentyn” the Prince interrupted her. “I´m sorry, but it´s the only way my brother will accept this alliance and he is still Prince of Dorne. I would suggest Willas and Arianne, but they are both heirs and wouldn´t want to lose that…”

“Me neither, Willas is my smartest grandson, I need him to rule Highgarden after I leave this world… again” she frowned. “I can accept Prince Quentyn marrying the Queen, even if I don´t get a crown for any of my grandchildren, but you dornish will have to give me something. One of your own have to marry one of us, and it can´t be you…”

“Trystane and Margaery? And one of their children marries Arianne´s heir? That would be accepted, it happens in most of noble families” suggested the Viper. “I would still have to get my brother´s permission for the betrothals, but I can present them to him… and know what he would accept.”

“And won´t Trystane be betrothed to Myrcella Waters?”

“Only in name… we would never marry him to a Lannister” he frowned. “We need to keep this Alliance in secret too” he drank some more tea. “So we agree to make Quentyn Daenerys´ consort and Margaery Trystane´s wife, with the promise that one of her children marries Arianne´s heir?” Olenna accepted this, even if she didn´t like it. She wanted much more than a Dornish prince for her granddaughter, but she also wanted to keep her alive and the Dornish were much better than the Lannisters. “Great, Doran will accept that.”

“Unfortunately, we need this alliance more than a crown right now to survive” the Widow of Highgarden sighed. “And I hoped so much to spare Margaery for Robb Stark…”

“That would never work and you know it” Oberyn said. “Robb Stark´s mother is already a southern lady and the lords of the North won´t accept two consecutive generations of Starks marrying southerners. He needs to marry a northerner.”

“A pity, the Starks are going to become important from now” Olenna finished her tea. “But perhaps we can work around that. After all, it would be a waste to let pretty Sansa Stark marry a Lannister bastard too when she can have Willas.”

“A good match too” the Prince said as he lifted from his seat. “I will take my leave now and return to Dorne in the morning. Expect to hear of my brother soon.”

“Oh, and one more thing” Olenna stopped him before he could leave the room. “One of your own girls gets legitimated and marries my grandson Horas Redwyne” she said. “You have to understand that, if I send Margaery to Dorne, I also need a… security that she is going to be safe there.”

Oberyn left without another word. As he said, he returned to Sunspear in the morning. The Queen of Thorns waited, counting the days until Prince Doran received the news and then the ones that would take for a raven to reach Highgarden from Dorne. A little bit later than she would expect, the answer arrived. She picked it up even before Lomas could even see it. The small piece of parchment didn´t have a long message, only Prince Doran´s seal and a word: DEAL. Olenna smiled. An Alliance was now made.

-In Winterfell-

Theon didn´t know what to do. When the Drowned God talked to him and tell him he would send him into the past, he thought that he would be able to make up for his mistakes, that he would feel the warmth of the Stark family again and be Robb´s friend, the brother the redheaded boy thought he was. Unfortunately, things never worked his way, not even when he was being helped by the Gods. Now Robb hated him with a passion, Lady Catelyn too, Bran was his nonfeeling self and Rickon threw him murder looks. Sansa and Arya were indifferent. Even Ned Stark had distanced himself from Theon, threating him more like the hostage he was than the foster son as he had done before. It was… cold. Made him miss the old times even more. As he couldn´t even ditch his lessons anymore, right now he had to sit down next to a murderous looking Robb in Luwin´s tower.

“Alright, my lords” the maester said when he entered the room. “We were learning about the Andal wars in our last class, how they never managed to breach Moat… Jon, what are you doing?”

The Greyjoy turned around to see the Bastard of Winterfell, who was reading a book in that moment. There was another person that had changed a lot. Jon Snow… was he even Jon Snow anymore? Considering what they had found out, what he had lived through and how much more he had surely lived than any of them, it was not strange that he wasn´t anymore. Or that he had changed so much. But, even so, it was a great transformation. Gone was the simple northern bangs that remained on his shoulder, replaced by a long hair that felt around him like a curtain, held by a half tail. The simple black clothing were still in place, probably because he didn´t have another option, but Theon could see the carefully added red details to his cloak and tunic. As if subtly declaring Targaryen. Jon´s movements have also changed. He realized when he saw him walk to breakfast the morning after arriving. He had left any pretense behind and walked in such an elegant and confident way that he was practically screaming Prince to the Stark´s faces.

“Jon, I don´t know what you are doing, but we are in class right now. Leave that” Luwin´s voice returned him to reality. And when Jon didn´t… “Do you even know how to read that? It´s written in…”

“High Valyrian, I know” Jon answered, not taking his eyes off the book. “Se Aegon, ānogar hen uēpa valyrio se kipagīros hen zōbrie dread, ūndan vesteros broken se controlled ondoso petty dāryssy. Ziry jiōraton ezīmagon zȳhon zaldrīzoti along rūsīr zȳhon wives se landed va se relgos hen zōbriēdar, hembar naejot se hills bona would aderī carry zȳhon se zȳhon wives brōzāt…”

“You speak Valyrian?” the maester asked, perplexed. To say Jon Snow spoke Valyrian was an understatement, as he had never heard someone speaking such a perfect High Valyrian in such an elegant way. Not even in the Citadel. “How…”

“I am Valyrian” Jon answered. “Well, half. I got interested in the other side of my heritage when I learned about it, so… I learned High and Bastard Valyrian.”

Robb seemed surprised too. Theon knew why. He had always thought that Jon´s mother was dornish or a riverlands or even valeman woman that his father met during the Rebellion. He had never thought that she could be Valyrian. But now that they were seeing it, it was kind of obvious. Jon´s high cheeks and pretty features were definitely Valyrian, even his eyes looked purple when the light hit them in a certain way.

“Yes… it´s good that you are interested in the other side of your heritage, but leave that for later. We are learning about the Andal Wars now, not the Conquest” Luwin coughed a bit. “And if you want to improve your Valyrian, you are always welcomed here after class. Now, where were we…”

The rest of the class passed in relative peace, with Robb completely ignoring him and looking at Jon as if he didn´t know him. At this point, it might be true that those who were as close as twins in the past life didn´t know each other anymore. It showed even more in the etiquette class, imparted by Septa Mordane, one all the Stark children were forced to attend to. Even Jon, for some reason, but he seemed even more uninterested. The Septa didn´t mind it, as the bastard didn´t need it, but took it personal when she saw him snickering at Sansa´s bow.

“Maybe you can show us a bow, Jon Snow”

“Sure, Septa” Jon got up from his seat and bowed in such an elegant and perfect way that even Sansa or Mordane couldn´t find a fault in that. In fact, Sansa´s face got red when she saw her… Half-brother? Cousin?... bow in such a way. “I can also show you the correct way to drink tea if you want.”

“You…” the Septa had rage in her eyes now. “If you know so much about etiquette, maybe you can illustrate us on the concept of Noblesse Oblige.”

“Septa, I think…” Robb tried to intervene, as it was a concept that they hadn´t touched before.

“Of course, Septa” Jon answered with confidence. “It´s an old term which means “Nobility Obliges”. In other words, it´s a concept that states that nobility extends beyond mere entitlement, that people of high status have to fulfil social responsibilities, including the protection of those that live under them. Noble ancestry constrains to honorable behavior and privilege entails responsibility.”

“Ah, that´s… correct… basically” Septa Mordane still refused to accept defeat. “Can you give me an example of someone that fulfilled those responsibilities?”

“Good Queen Alysanne is one good example” he continued with confidence. “It was known that she was renowned for her charity work. She opened popular dinning places for the poor, clothed the beggars and also, during the Royal Tour gifted the Gift to the Night´s Watch. She loved her people and they loved her back. If there is a golden standar of Noblesse Oblige in Westeros, that´s the Good Queen. It´s one of the reasons the Baratheons can´t touch her even if they try to erase the name Targaryen from History. The people would still riot if they try to besmirch the good Queen.”

“I… I…” the woman didn´t seem to like it at all, but can´t deny that Alysanne Targaryen had lived according to the precept Noblesse Oblige. Of course, the Septons and Septas were bound to hate her, as she had an incestuous marriage with her brother, but also couldn´t touch her. Alysanne was far too beloved.
“Anyway, let´s continue.”

Theon and Robb were truly marveled at that complete answer. Of all the things Jon could know about, this was not one of them. They were even more surprised by Sansa´s anger at Jon´s knowledge. She was used to be the star of that class, yes, but there was no need to react like that. That she went straight to Lady Catelyn and asked for a punishment for Jon made Robb angry, but he couldn´t do anything. Jon Snow shrugged and walked away to do as he was told when Lady Catelyn ordered him to muck the stables. Robb couldn´t follow then, as he was called by his father, but went later to search for Jon. He ended up bumping into Theon in the Godswood thanks to that.

“Careful, Greyjoy” he answered with anger. “That you are keeping your head down won´t save you from your just deserve.”

“I… Robb, I always wanted to…”

“I don´t want to hear you” the Stark answered. “You betrayed me and…”

Whatever the future King in the North was going to say, was silenced by the sound of a harp in the wind. And it wasn´t something that even Sansa, the most skilled musician between the Stark children (which meant average), could produce. This was the kind of sound only a skilled musician could produce. Following them, they found Jon in front of one of the pools. He clearly had just finished his punishment and now was resting. He was also singing a strange song in High Valyrian… such a beautiful voice. Had Jon always had such a beautiful voice?

“I see that you still do that… as if that´s going to be useful where you will end up” Sansa´s voice disrupted the beauty of the moment. Jon´s eyes opened and he lowered his harp, facing their sister. “How do you feel after being put in your place after so much time?”

“Oh, it was nothing. It´s not as if I haven´t done it before” he answered, not even the beginning of annoyance in his voice. “You and your mother are going to have to try harder if you want to get under my skin.”

“Of course, scales are hard, no?” she said, anger in her tone. “Do you really think you can appoint to anything? That we are going to let you return to your wife and Essos and become the treat that we know you are going to be?”

“Do you seriously think you can stop me, sweet sister?” Robb felt a shudder run down his spine. Sweet sister… said in a way that Theon could certainly see Tyrion Lannister using to refer to his own sister. “You should know better after what happened. You are no match for me, not even with all the might of the North behind you. I will crush you… as I did before.”

“Without your weapons, you are all talk. We Starks will win and the North will prevail… just look at yourself, what do you have now? Not even one sword to your name, only a name that will get you killed if it´s known. And forget about gaining allies here, no northman will follow you over a Stark… you are not even fully northern yourself, how are you going to manage it?” the redheaded girl smiled smugly. “Just look at you, only a Valyrian snake and nothing more.”

“If I´m a Valyrian snake, Sansa, then you are a riverlands one” he retorted, smirking. “You even look like one…”

“Bastard” she spit at him.

“That no longer bothers me” he stated as the Lady turned around to leave. “By the way, Sansa, thank you for calling me a Valyrian snake. They are beautiful and silver… unlike those brown muddy things from the Riverlands.”

Sansa left even faster, her face red with anger. Theon wondered what had happened there for a second. Why… no, that was not it. He already knew there were frictions between Jon and Sansa after he returned to Winterfell with Daenerys Targaryen. And about the mentioned wife… could it be… he had heard that Targaryens liked to keep it in the family, so… well, anyway, frictions surely developed from then on. He turned to look at Robb, who was still trying to make sense of everything they had seen and heard. He was probably going to get the wrong conclusion anyway.

“Theon, do you think… Jon wanted something else aside from joining the Night´s Watch in the other life?” he asked. “Perhaps a wife and children and a keep of his own?”

“Robb… you don´t know the entire true… and it´s not something I should talk to you about, you are not going to believe me” the Ironborn answered, remembering when he found out. “Ask your father.”

Chapter Text

Arya rolled her eyes as the septa practically dragged her to her room to change her clothes. As if ladies couldn´t wear breeches as well as men. She was about to give the septa a choice of her chosen profession when she remembered why she was behaving. She frowned, entering the room and allowing for the woman to throw a dress into her bed. Arya allowed herself then to be bathed, changed and arranged, all the while thinking about what her role would be in this new reality. Maybe she could even… eliminate some threads before they became blocks on their road. Her servant had just finished with her hair when someone entered the room.

“Leave us alone, please” Sansa declared in the authoritative tone a queen would use. The servant bowed and left. “You look nothing like yourself.”

“Thank you” it was one of the most beautiful things her sister had said to her when not complimenting her professional skills. “I was thinking about ditching this stupid thing… who wants to be in a room full of lords and stupid ladies anyway? Or sew and gossip with them during tea?”

“More my thing than yours, I´m afraid” the redhead answered and just for one second, the both of them exchanged a smile. Until Arya remembered exactly what her sister had made her do. A scowl replaced her happy expression. “I´m not going to do what you expect me to do, Sansa. Not anymore.”

“Would you leave your sister to the mercy of the Lannisters or to the likes of Ramsay and Roose Bolton?” the former Queen in the North sat down next to her sister. “I know what I can convince you to do, Arya, and what you are implying… a long time ago I noticed that it won´t work again. I will have to… consider other solutions.”

“Does it mean that you are not going to kinslay or merely that I´m not going to be the assassin wielding the knife?”

“I´m only saying that I´m considering solutions that might or might not include a knife on someone´s back.” The redheaded Stark daughter smirked. “And father might have something to do with that.” She extended a hand. “Shall we?”

Arya got up by herself, but accompanied her sister into the Main Hall. It was filled to the brim with Northern Lords, all of them called by their father. Lord Stark and his Lady were there already, Robb by their side, greeting those that arrived. The girl stared at the Greatjon Umber, who was laughing as he saluted his Liege, presenting his young daughters to the heir of Winterfell. They were at least a head taller than her brother, so she thought it would be awkward when the time came to dance with them. Behind the Umbers, Wynafrid and Wylla Manderly waited for their turn with their grandfather. And behind them…

“See?” Sansa whispered to her, knowing exactly what to say to make her sister want to do her will. “There is still plenty of things for what your… unique talents are required.”

She left Arya by herself to go dance with one of the many lords reunited there. It didn´t mean anything, her father had promised her that she wouldn´t be betrothed until she felt ready, the same he had promised to Arya herself… but that was beside the point there. Roose Bolton, Barbrey Dustin and Rodrik Ryswell were there. The traitors that conspired to kill her brother and steal her home. Umbers and Karstarks too… they will receive their due in time. The Freys too. All she had to do was approach them and…

“My Lady, would you like to dance?” a man said, approaching her. A Ryswell man.

Arya wanted to groan, but she had a role to fulfill. And a good assassin sometimes needed to do their job while fulfilling a role, one that put suspicions away from them. Yes, she had a role to fulfill and she would fulfill it. Unfortunately, that role was one she still detested, no matter how much time it had passed since she had to play it. Unknown to her, she was not the only member of the family that was having a bad time.

“From all the stupid ideas Lord Stark could have before having to host the Usurper and his court, my uncle decides to hold a meeting in Winterfell” Jon complained as Larence helped him with his hair. “Ridiculous.”

His knight nodded as he braided a complicated set around an adornment that was originally supposed to be worn in another part of the body. He tried to convince his Prince that it was a bad idea, but he insisted. So Larence did as he was told and helped his Lord to get ready for the meeting. He had learned how to braid hair in the Valyrian style during his many years in Volantis, including around many ornaments. The Bastard of Hornwood took a step back when he finished, admiring his Prince´s look. The hair was fine, but the clothes he was wearing were all black, like a Brother of the Night´s Watch´s, and old. Of a fine quality, but obviously inferior to those worn by the Starks. Even so, he managed to look every inch a Prince. If only he could have the same as they did in Volantis…

“You don´t have to go if you don´t want” Larence said, knowing that the last thing the Prince wanted to spend time with the enemy. “You yourself said it, this ball is to find the young Lord Robb a bride…”

“That doesn´t mean I can simply be absent.”

“My Prince…”

“Better dead than to show weakness in front of a pack of wolves, Larence, remember that” he snatched his fan from his nightstand, a simple and worn thing with a broken mirror. “Let´s go so this nightmare could be over.”

The two of them walked down to the Main Hall, the Hornwood bastard a few steps behind his master as they used to do in formal occasions in the court of Volantis. It was something strange, considering that they were not Prince and knight anymore, but Larence would first fall into his own sword than letting something happen to Jon. As they approached, the sounds of lords feasting and getting drunk reached their ears. It was not the first time they entered like that kind of environment, not even in the North… now that he remembered, he used to be used to that kind of feasts… once upon a time… long ago… when he was young and still thought like one of them, before he had the chance to see world. Now he was a different person altogether. His eyes then fell into a group of men wearing a three sentinel trees on a field of brown.

“My P…”

“No, Larence” Jon answered, frowning even deeper. But he was right, they can´t back out. To show weakness, specially in their situation, could and would be a great mistake. Larence also knew that, he wouldn´t have survived as one of his knight and then a lord if he didn´t. Even so… “Stay as close to me as you can.”

“Of course, my…”

“And don´t call me that” he whispered. “Here, I´m Jon Snow, a fellow bastard.”

“Yes, my… Jon”

“Good” the former Prince gripped his fan even harder. He was counting the minutes until that nightmare finished. “Let´s go to the…”

“Jon!!!” Robb approached quickly, leaving his dancing partner, one of the Umber girls, in the middle of their dance. She put an offended face. “Where were you? I was expecting you to come down with our sisters. What, did you entertain yourself so much styling your hair?”

“I had to leave you some time alone with the ladies. Had I been there all the time, none would have given you attention” Jon retorted in a way that seemed friendly banter to Robb, but anyone who spent their time in a court would detect the insult in his words right away. “Anyway, Larence and I were just heading for…”

“Oh, nothing like that. If I have to suffer with the ladies, then so do you” the Stark said, not letting his brother slip from his gasp. This one opened his eyes wide, but didn´t resist. Not even a Larence sent him a concerned look. “I was just dancing with Jana, with whom I will have to dance another song so she might consider forgiving me. She was also telling me about her sister, Jayna…”

“Robb, there is no need, I…”

“You once told me that you didn´t want to have a family, that you wanted to join the Watch. But, the more I hear you these days, the more I realize that it wasn´t true, that you were only doing that to protect me and reassure my mother, that you wanted a family…”

“Robb, really, whatever you have heard…”

“You deserve that, Jon. You deserve that and more. A wife, a family, a holdfast on your own… I will give you that this time” he promised. Jon, behind him, frowned. “That being said, let´s begin with the wife. I´m sure you will find Jayna Umber lovely.”

Jon wanted to say that he would prefer Wun Wun over an Umber or any other northerner any day, but bit his tongue. Instead, he allowed himself to be conduced to the girl and danced with her. And with Wynafrid Manderly, Alys Karstark and Dacey Mormont. He barely dodged dancing with Eddara Tallhart by saying he was going to get a drink from the table. He sat down near Larence, sipping the wine that was served in the squire´s table, inferior in quality to the one served to the lords and muttered some threats to the Heir to Winterfell in Valyrian. An Heir who apparently had made it his mission to find him a northern wife. By how he kept pushing him towards the Mormont or Manderly heiresses, it seemed that he wanted to get him a wife that could give him her last name too. A last name and lands.

“I see that you managed to evade your cousin for the now.”

“And you yours” Jon retorted, seeing how Larence was putting as much distance as he could between himself and the Tallhart men. And their lords. “I think I offended your cousin” he commented when he saw the lord´s daughter glaring in their way. “when I got out of dancing with her.”

“I don’t recognize those people as my cousins” the Hornwood bastard answered, drinking the watered down wine and missing the fine, spicy vintage from Volantis even more.

“Likewise” his Prince answered, missing that and something more. “Don´t see the time to leave… but there are still some things I have to do before that.”

“Does it include the Usur…”

“Larence” Jon stopped him before he could say something more. “You should remember that there are some places where you have to be careful with your words. This is one of them” even if no one would pay attention to the conversation between two bastards. “We will have to wait until we are home.”

“Yes, of course” the boy cursed inwardly. He knew that well, he had lived the life of a lord for nearly as long as Jon had been a Prince, he was very aware of that. But these last few months… then something occurred to him, making him lower his voice even more. “And… how are you going to explain this night to the Queen? Because she isn´t going to like you being courted by anyone who isn´t her.”

The former Regent shuddered when he heard that. His wife was… a fiery woman with a temperament. Ardent and… a bit jealous too. Not overly, as she understood that sometimes he needed to dance or talk with a lady or the other, but some ladies putting their hands on her husband, trying to openly court him… that was another history. Them being northerners would only fan the flames of her anger. Were she to know about their dances and that Robb Stark had tried to pair him with those ladies, then the North would be the first target of her anger. Not even rivers of blood would remain to flow when the ashes settled down after the Wrath of a Dragon descended over them.

“Let´s not do something we regret la…”

“Jon!!” Robb appeared in that moment, letting go of the hand of Alys Karstark. “Come here, you have rested enough!! And Lady Tallhart is waiting!!”

“Seems like I didn´t evade your cousin after all”

Arya was also watching the scene with worry. She knew her… goodsister… had a temper and could be dangerous in the most flammable meaning of the word. She surely won´t find it funny if Robb´s attempts to match Jon with one of the eligible ladies in the North succeeded. Neither would Jon, who loved his wife more than he loved that family. And, given the opportunity, Jon can have as much a temper as her. A very flammable temper. Which was why, when Robb retired for a bit from the Main Hall, she followed.

“Robb… Robb, wait!!” she called for him as he was rushing away.

“What?” he asked, halting to face his sister.

“We need to talk” the girl said, approaching her brother to lower the volume of her voice. “Is it my imagination or are you trying to get Jon a wife?”

“Is not your imagination, sister” the Stark heir answered, very full of himself. “I´m looking for a wife for our brother” Arya´s expression became one of consternation. “I thought that, now that father and mother want to get me a wife in case the worse happened again and the Freys want to take advantage of my unmarried status, it´s time for other Stark heirs to also get married. The one closest to my age is Jon and we surely will benefit of…”

“Are you insane?”

“What´s wrong with you? I expected such a reaction from mother, not from…”

“And what gave you the idea that Jon would go along with your ridiculous plan?”

“It´s not ridiculous!” Robb frowned at his sister. “The other day Theon and I heard Sansa and Jon talking about family and other things and Jon mentioned wanting a wife and children…”

“Did he mentioned WANTING a wife or that he already HAD one?” now that she was saying it like that… Arya groaned. “Robb, Jon already has a wife. At least in the old life…”

“Our brother probably chose a wonderful woman, but so did I, and it ended up not being the best of choices…”

“Jon is not you, Robb, he didn´t committed the same mistakes as you” the girl´s answer actually made him mute. “What you just did probably only offended him, because he loved his wife a lot. And not only because of that, but because in the old life he lost her in a terrible way” she put her hands on her hips. “Yes, Robb, old Jon was a widower. And he not only lost his wife, but his baby daughter at the same time. He had to take care of his three remaining children alone for years.”

“Wha… what happened?” he asked, concerned.

“That… that´s not the point” the assassin said, not wanting to dwell in details. “The only thing that does is that perhaps you should leave these things alone. Follow Father´s plan, allow Jon to become a Man of the Watch and avoid…”

“And if he doesn´t want that? Are you going to force him to take the Black, sister?” Robb asked. He didn´t recognize his siblings anymore… what had happened in his absence? What had they done? “Maybe my plan is better. Maybe that way he doesn´t have to suffer through it anymore.”

Robb left, Arya stayed alone in that corridor. She looked at her hands for a long time, feeling them unclean, dirty and… warm with blood. With THAT blood. Robb was mistaken, there could not be any children of Jon´s blood because… because then she or some other… Sansa and Bran won´t let anyone spoil their plan, their ruthless selves won´t allow it. If she wasn´t the one holding the knife this time…

Outside, the lords were enjoying themselves. Lord Eddard Stark called for silence in that moment and announced the betrothal of his heir, Robb Stark, with Lady Alys Karstark. The lords clapped and congratulated the couple. Ned and Catelyn exchanged a look. With this, they hoped that the Red Wedding was avoided. If not, then they would have to look for another way. They saw Robb dancing with Alys, smiling satisfied. They made a good couple. The smiles died a bit when their son practically forced his bastard brother to dance with Jayna Umber again. Catelyn was sour about that, as she didn´t want the bastard to get any marriage, specially not one that can help him usurp her son in the future. Eddard was only worried. What could happen if Jon were to marry and sire children? He didn´t want to go to the Wall anymore, ruining his plans. Should he force him? Does he have the heart to do so? He didn´t know anymore.

-In King´s Landing-

There were some times in his life Jamie wished things could be different. This was one of them. Unfortunately, the two Lannister brothers agreed that this needs to happen for them to cast down at least one of their problems. It was a pity, but Jon Arryn needed to be poisoned for them to have a chance to get rid of Baelish and Lysa Arryn or, in the worst case, Pycelle. Jamie would prefer to get Baelish, as getting rid of Pycelle would put both him and Tyrion at odds with their father… but if it was needed, then they would have to put the Grandmaester on Robert´s warpath. As he walked behind Robert, the Kingslayer wondered exactly when everything was going to explode.

“Excuse me, my King” Ser Hugh of the Vale appeared in front of Robert and his small retinue. “The Lord Hand is asking for your presence. He is really ill and…”

“What?! Jon is ill and no one told me!!”

Jamie bit his tongue before he could say something about Robert not being informed because he was too busy in a brothel and followed his kingly goodbrother towards the maester´s chambers. He wasn´t surprised to see Tyrion already there, bothering the Grandmaester and the ailing Hand with questions. The King barged into the room, screaming at the Imp to leave the ill man and maester alone, which Tyrion did. There was no reasoning with Robert Baratheon when he was like that. A few hours later, even after several tries from his brother to bring poison to the King´s attention, Jon Arryn was dead. The man´s foster son raged for hours, turning his rage towards Tyrion as he was reminded by Pycelle of his intervention.

“It´s only that it was strange to me” the dwarf said when asked by a raging Stag why he interfered with the maester. “Pycelle was giving him the treatment for a common stomach ailment, but it in fact reminded me of something I read once…”

“What?!” asked Robert, impatient and itching to kill something.

“Something I read about the reign of Aegon III, when someone tried to kill his wife and ended up killing their food taster” the littlest Lannister continued despite the anger his mention of the Targaryens woke in Robert. “Their had the same symptoms as the Hand, but the maester managed to save the Queen with a strong purging potion…”

“Wait, someone tried to kill his wife?” Renly, who was also present, finally managed to catch the bait. Good for him, he wasn´t as stupid as Tyrion remembered. “Are you suggesting that the Hand was… poisoned?”

“I´m saying Queen Daenaera Velaryon suffered the same symptoms when she was poisoned with a rare and really expensive poison called the Tears of Lys” the small lion answered. “In fact, before Pycelle kicked him out, I think the maester in Lord Arryn´s service was giving the Hand the same treatment as…”

“CALL THAT MAESTER HERE RIGHT THIS INSTANT!! I WANT TO HEAR IT FROM HIM!!”

If Robert was raging then, he was purple of rage when he heard the maester in service of the Arryns explain how he had suspected it was poison and how he would have saved the Lord Hand if the Grandmaester hadn´t taken over Lord Arryn´s care and ordered him away. Pycelle tried to explain himself, lying about not recognizing the poison and not being proof about it being a poisoning incident, but, unfortunately for him, Renly Baratheon decided for once in his life to be efficient. He had ordered a maester in his employ to revise the symptoms and this one agreed that it was a case of poisoning with the Tears of Lys. The King, in his anger, completely forgot about the Lannisters in favor of Pycelle, who was accused of being the poisoner. The maester, trembling, denied it before being sent to the Black Cells.

“Your Grace, as much as I wish I could conclude this issue here, I don´t believe the Grand maester is the culprit” Varys intervened before Tyrion could even open his mouth. “Just think about it, what could he gain of the Hand´s death?”

“Maybe he had a secret he didn´t want exposed” Renly offered after a short chat with a recently arrived Loras Tyrell. “I sent some of my men to Pycelle´s quarters when he came into suspicions and they just returned. With factures of brothels and letters the Grand maester hid from the King. They were all addressed to the King.”

“If they were found out, he would have lost his head or been sent to the Wall for treason, your Grace” the Knight of Flowers finished, proud of himself. “More than enough reason to kill a man.”

“Yes, but that doesn´t explain how he slipped Lord Arryn the poison.” Tyrion countered. “He didn´t send any tonic or medicine to the Tower of the Hand lately, no?” the Spider nodded, supporting Tyrion. “And the Tears of Lys is not a slow acting poison. He needed to at least have an accomplise in the Hand´s employment…”

“THEN WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR?!! RENLY!! FIND THE FUCKING RAT THAT POISONED JON AND BRING IT TO ME!! NOW!!”

The Lannister brothers inwardly smirked. The pieces were all in place. Thanks to some arrangements and a few coins, they had managed to put a dent on Lysa Arryn´s fleeing plan. Enough for her to still be in the Tower of the Hand when Renly began the investigation. The maddened woman barricaded herself inside her room, screaming something about not taking her Sweetrobin. Robert, convinced that she was the poisoner, grabbed his Warhammer and threw the door down, yelling at her that she killed her husband. Lady Arryn then tried to throw herself and her child from the window, but thanks to Ser Barristan´s heroic actions, the young Lord was saved.

“That bitch… she was madder than the Mad King himself” muttered Robert when they were finally back in the Throne Room. What remained of the Small Council was there around him. And Baelish looked too confident… he must have covered his tracks really well. “Renly, what do your men say happened?”

“We found a small bottle in Lady Arryn´s possession, filled with the Tears of Lys. According to Hugh, Lord Arryn´s squire, it was delivered by him straight to her a few weeks ago. He didn´t know what it contained” the Master of Laws said. “Apparently, Lady Arryn decided to poison her husband and bought the Tears, we don´t know from whom. She must have been aware of Lord Arryn´s investigation on Pycelle, so she paid him to make sure her husband died. We found a pouch of gold in another hiding place in the maester´s quarters which seems to conform the history.”

A pouch of gold that a certain Mockingbird must have planted, even Jaime could tell. But he wasn´t going to ruin everything with a baseless accusation. Baelish will survive… for some time. The important thing was that he and Tyrion had gotten rid of Tywin Lannister´s creature and Littlefinger´s most important piece. The Grand maester had accepted to take the Black in exchange for his life, so the issue was closed. As for Baelish... Jamie had to refrain himself from smirking in triumph as control of the Vale slipping through the Master of Coin´s fingers as Robin Arryn was shipped off to Runestone as ward of Lord Yohn Royce (Stannis had already fled the city). Unfortunately, not everything was good news, as there was only one person Robert trusted in to run his Kingdom now that Jon Arryn was no more.

“I thought you had that in hand…”

“I thought my arguments were going to convince him”

“Certainly they did not!!” Jamie made his best effort to recover control over his voice when he addressed the issue with Tyrion. “Looks like we are going to Winterfell anyway.”

“Expected” Tyrion answered, crossing his arms. He wanted to avoid this if possible, as he wasn´t ready to face his old King, the Queen in the North or, the Seven have mercy, the Prince Regent, but if it was unavoidable, then he was going to make it better. Beginning with avoiding Brandon´s fall. “Prepare yourself, it´s going to be a tiring trip.”

The Kingsguard nodded and went off to write a raven to Brienne. She needed to know how this was developing, in case they couldn´t avoid the course of events. So she could prepare… and convince Gendry of making them Valyrian steel. According to the Maid of Tarth, the Smith´s Chosen could be as bullheaded as his father when he wanted. He was going to honor the name Baratheon once his uncles finished killing each other off. Anyway, Winterfell… they were going to go to Winterfell. It certainly was going to be interesting this time around… no?

-In Wintertown-

“My Prince, what…?”

“Patience, Larence, I´m sure he is almost here” someone suddenly sat down in their table. Someone very well known for them. “A pleasure to see you again, Lord Admiral.”

“Ser Velaryon” the bastard of Hornwood saluted. The bastard of Driftmark bowed to him.

“Ser Saeragyon, a pleasure to see you again” Aurane Waters grabbed his drink. “Now… what are your orders, my Prince? Are you going to meet the Queen soon?”

Jon smirked. His cousins could have learned to play the game sooner than him, but by the time he had to sit the newly created throne of the new Valyrian Empire because of Dany´s absence, he had learned. And became a master on his own right. His Flame of Meleys was a true diamond in the brute he had polished into a true gem as his personal knight and then commander, while his Flame of Shrykos the best admiral ever. And they were fiercely loyal to him and Daenerys. And how could they not be, they had been handpicked really well.

In the end, he had one thing to thank Tyrion Lannister for. How did he say? Cripples, Bastards, and Broken Things… nothing better than that.

Chapter Text

Brynden was standing in the port of Gulltown when the ship carrying his grandnephew home arrived. For a short time, he felt anger towards the world for his niece´s death. Anger at Bealish, the worm who used Lysa´s feelings to manipulate him and rise in power. Anger at Tyrion Lannister, because only the crooked Imp of a Lion would cook a plan so complete like that to remove both a piece of the Master of Coin´s and a piece of the Old Lion´s game. And, even if he hadn´t had a part on that, at Yohn Royce, for sporting that stupid, arrogant smile when the King wrote to him declaring him the new Regent of the Vale and Warden of the East until Robin Arryn was of age. After that letter, King Robert… the Usurper was added too. It was that worm Baelish the one that should have died and be vilified in his anger, not Lysa, not his niece. Even if she was mad, she was… she should have ended better than that, the both times. The Lords of the Vale, who were now sucking up to Lord Royce… He felt enough anger to grab his sword and try to kill them all.

But that couldn´t be. He had to swallow up his rage and continue with his duty, if only to make sure little Robert and his future line would be safe… and that everything was going to be alright, that the Long Night wasn´t going to kill them all. He went to bed with that rage threatened them to unleash a killing spree in the Vale… until Daeron appeared in his dreams that night and helped him to gain control of his anger again. Those fools on the piers with him, ignoring him in favor of Lord Jon… they all owe their lives to a Targaryen already and they don´t know it. Well, it was better that they don´t know it, they would take him for a Targaryen loyalist and Targaryen loyalists were not well received in the Vale. A finger caressed his little blackfish pin, asking for patience and restrain so he could endure everything until the Long Night was over and he somehow managed to keep his family from becoming his brother. That Cat hadn´t answer to his letter only added to his troubles.

“Lord Robert!! Welcome to the Vale!!” the voice of Lord Royce returned him to the reality. His young grand nephew had gotten down of the ship while he was thinking about Cat and his letter to her. He nearly gapped at the sight of him.

“Thank you, Lord Royce” the boy mussed as he watched everyone around him. He looked different from the Sweetrobin he remembered at that age… maybe his septa had beaten some civility into his head during the trip. Lysa certainly didn´t seem to care about that enough to teach it to her son.

As Bronze Yohn escorted the boy to the Eyrie, Brynden watched his grandnephew carefully. He hadn´t noticed before, but the child had something that reminded him uncomfortably of… of Hoster. His brother had been the last person he had thought of lately, having died so long ago by the time he died… and because he actually didn´t want to hear of Hoster. He knew that he had said that he forgave his brother and reconcile with him when he visited Riverrun, but the truth was… was that the resentment he felt towards his brother never fade. It had been just words on his deathbed, so his brother might leave this world in piece, but… and now, Robin Arryn had brought those feelings to the forefront with his small similarities to Hoster.

“Axel, Trystane, Lysa…” he told to himself before following Lord Arryn like the good Knight of the Bloody gate he was.

Fortunately, similarities to Hoster ended when the child felt comfortable enough in his new home. Unfortunately, that meant his civility was thrown out of the window. Brynden sighed, he had completely forgot how much of an utter incompetent mother and utter madwoman Lysa was. Robin´s first fit over the milk he was served, because it didn´t come from his mother´s breast, shook Runestone practically to the core. As Lord Royce and his family tried to calm the child, the Blackfish moved away from his grandnephew and back to his duties at the Gate. He stopped for a second at the rookery to ask if a raven for him had arrived for him. Nothing. Apparently, Cat has taken offence to his attempt of getting her to be friendlier to Jon Snow. Or to his wish warn her about her children.

“Ahhhhh, Daeron, this would be so much easier if those children ever listened to me” the aged knight said, one finger on his pin. “But no, Hoster raised them to be as stubborn as he was… if not worse.”

His mentioning of Hoster again brought a foul taste to his mouth. He didn´t want to think of his brother in this moment, he was beyond salvation by now. The Chosen of the Father needed to focus on those he could save. And for that, he needed to mend the relationship between Cat and Jon Snow. Or at least make sure he is not sent to the Wall, but to the East. To find the woman that will turn him into… a less than savory and bitter person, but at least someone that will be the key of the Enemy´s defeat. They were going to need him and his wife in the future to stop the advance of the White Walkers. And for that, he needed that girl to hear him. Edmure had done so, which is a win, as he would be ready if the Lannisters start raiding the Riverlands…

“Not that much chance of that now” muttered Brynden as he remembered Tyrion Lannister´s intervention in the poisoning of Jon Arryn. Not for the first time, he thought about the Seven and their chosen. He was the Father´s… “The Mother, The Crone, The Maiden, The Smith, the Warrior and the Stranger… which one did you chose?”

Tyrion Lannister… he must be one of the Chosen if he was able to piece everything so easily. He must have wanted to eliminate Baelish too, but the slippery snake was smart. The only thing the Imp could do so early in the game was to prevent him from gaining control of the Vale. He smirked, even if he didn´t want how he did it. Without Baelish intervening, there is a chance to prevent the War of the Five Kings… or at least the raiding in the Riverlands, as Lysa wasn´t there to try to throw the Imp out the Moon Door. And Tyrion was forewarned, so Cat wouldn´t be able to find him in the Crossroads Inn.

He frowned. The Littlest Lannister was as slippery a viper as Baelish, a kinslayer, a betrayer, a dishonorable piece of backstabbing shit… but he could be useful in his own way. Besides, this would be so much easier if he wasn´t doing all the work seemingly alone. Brynden should really think about working with him. But not for now. For now, he would write another letter to Cat. Perhaps like this, he could stir her in the right direction and avoid the Wrath of the Dragon. Because the Gods save them if Jon Snow remembered, because nothing would save Westeros if it was that way.

“Ser Brynden?” Ser Donnel Waynwood interrupted in the moment. He was one of the knights that served with him. And also… “We didn´t expect you back so soon. Weren´t you going to stay with your grandnephew more time?”

“No, Ser Donnel, I saw him well taken care of and returned here to continue with my duty” he answered, a perfectly practiced smile on his face. “I have done enough grieving for my dearly departed niece lately, so I decided it´s time to pay attention to duty fully again.”

“I understand. And, while I also know that everyone does their grieving in different ways, it´s also true that children felt for the absence of departed parents more. Also to inherit such responsibility as being Lord of the Vale at such a young age!!” he continued. “Are you sure you wouldn´t prefer to be with young Lord Arryn?”

“He is best being prepared by Lord Yohn, an honorable and capable man in all sense. What would this grieving old man do for him more than reminding him of his late mother and bore him with sad tales?”

“But to lose both his parents, one so soon after the other. And the circumstances!!” Brynden clenched his fist, but didn´t let Donnel see that. The implication of his late niece being a kinslayer wasn´t lost to him either. “I heard that the poor boy screamed all the way here from King´s Landing for his mother. Shouldn´t it be better if he had a family member there with him to ease his grief?”

“Like I said, he is the hands of the people best qualified to take care of him. I would only get in the way… and I´m needed here, doing my duty.” And the Bronze Lord won´t let you get close and sink your claws in my nephew, he wanted to add, but he refrain himself.

“I admire your dedication to duty, Ser Brynden. I hope in the future I´m as dutiful a knight as you are.”

As the young man retreated, Brynden did his best not to throw the chair he was sitting in at the grasping fool. He had met a lot of dishonorable fools in his old life, his family without going so far, but the Waynwoods were on another league. He despised them as much as he despised Baelish. And it started long after he left for the Wall and received news from time to time. Like Morton Waynwood, the ambitious fool, practically whoring his niece Cynthea Frey, who for how she had been raised was a Waynwood in all but name, to little Robin. Of course, when the two finally wed, Morton became ruler of the Vale in all but name. Brynden even had suspicions that his grandnephew´s early death hadn´t been natural, but a result of Morton wanting to preserve his power over the Vale by taking Robin, who was starting to become unruly and a bit deranged, out and making Cynthea regent for the couple´s only daughter, young Lysa Arryn. And then they wanted to extend their power by trying to get Sansa and Brandon to name Lysa heir as their only relative that wasn´t a Targaryen… as if his grandniece or nephew would release even a bit of their power to anyone. Sansa didn´t even wanted to name an heir when she was old and grey and the Lords of the North were pushing or worse.

And that´s why it was foolish, the Lords of the North would only accept a Northerner to rule them after declaring independence. Or at least someone with Stark blood, as it was showed by how some of the Houses talked into crowning Jon Snow´s second son over even the Flints or the too southern Rogers. If the Dragon´s Wrath and then White Walkers hadn´t come first, his ambition would have been the end of his House and probably the Vale.

“I will need to warn Royce about the Waynwoods” he said to himself. “No, he probably already knows. And also has his own plans and plenty of granddaughters.”

But nothing was stopping him from talking to Anya Waynwood. While she might have incurred in a few debts with Petyr Baelish over the years, the elderly Lady of Ironoaks still had the leashes of her sons held short. She knew they were ambitious, but she manages to curb that ambition into something that could be useful and not destroy their house. At least, she had done that after one of Morton´s plans nearly ruined them and she was forced to ask the Master of Coin for a loan to save her family. It also meant that his plans might go straight into Baelish, but the worm might not hear a single thing from Anya if he managed things carefully.

“Ser Brynden, there has been an attack from the savages again” a young squire said as he entered the room without knocking.

“Prepare a party, we head out at once”

He would write the letter to Lady Anya later, now he had to make sure that the roads were safe, just in case his niece needed them later to make a visit. It would make him feel so happy… seeing Cat alive and well after so many years of missing her. There wasn´t much he could do for Lysa, but Catelyn was another history. If he only were able to make her close to Jon Snow before the Wrath of the Dragon begins again…

-In Winterfell-

Lady Stark was still trying to make sense of the letter her uncle had sent her. At first, the letter only bring her anger. To tell her something bad about her children and that she needed to do something for Jon Snow…her temper flared and she nearly tossed the letter into the hearth. But then, she noticed that his predictions regarding Robb were painfully accurate in regard of what happened in the War of the Five Kings. And of her own actions regarding Tyrion Lannister… she started to think that he might also have returned from the future. Brynden was still alive when the Red Wedding occurred, so he might know something more. And if he said that she needed to get closer to the bastard…

But, at the same time, every time she looked at the bastard, she couldn´t help but feel anger at him for existing and at his mysterious mother for opening her legs to her husband. No, she told to herself, even if her uncle suggested that, she couldn´t behave like a mother with the bastard. More when he had recently showed his true colors and how much he despised her children. It would be like an invitation for him to usurp Robb or any of her other babies. Why was Sansa the only one that understand her?

“My Lady?” maester Luwin approached her in that moment. “My Lady, a letter arrived from King´s Landing. The King is going to come to Winterfell.”

“Is going to come?” she raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, he still hasn´t departed from King´s Landing because… because of the funerals and the sending off of Lord Robert” Catelyn was surprised by that. Didn´t Lysa fled to the Vale this time? “I have to offer my condolences to you, my Lady, and to Lord Stark. Lord and Lady Arryn are dead.”

“What?!”

No, this was wrong. Jon Arryn died, exactly like the first time, but Lysa was supposed to be still alive by then. She should have fled to the Vale with her son, where they would wait for Petyr. Petyr, the ones that her sister loved and that made her kill her husband according to Sansa. The one that wanted Catelyn, but never could get her, that would kill her beloved Ned to get her or Sansa in replacement… who had wanted the power of the Vale to become much more than he had now, even if he had already climbed so much… a power that he would not have now that her nephew was sent to Runestone as ward to Lord Royce. It made her happy, that the vermin that planned her husband´s dead and the war that took her firstborn´s life was denied what he wanted. It would make revenge all the sweeter when her family achieved it. But how…

Her expression hardened when she realized that a new player had entered the game. And not any player, but a player that was also sent to the beginning of the game from the future. Like her, her husband, her children, her uncle… but who could it be? Petyr? He was ruthless enough to plan the death of a woman he went to bed with. But no, Petyr still needed Lysa to gain control of the Vale, without that, the whole plan lacked a win for him. Tywin Lannister? No, the Old Lion would not only take care of Lysa, but of Petyr too. And he wouldn´t be too careful, but much more merciless. Cersei? No, the queen would be as clumsy as she was cruel. The person who planned her sister´s demise wasn´t clumsy at all, he or she was a schemer at the same level as Tywin Lannister or Petyr… Tyrion Lannister? From what Sansa and Bran had told her about him, he seemed like the obvious answer. Bran told her that he served as his Hands for many years and described many of his schemes. She would need to stay in guard around him.

“Thank you, maester, I will tell my husband myself”

Catelyn walked through the passages of Winterfell, knowing where to find Ned. He and the boys had just returned from the deserter´s beheading, bringing the direwolf pups with them. Lord Stark had a chat with the condemned man before taking his head, about what he saw beyond the Wall and the Others. What he heard scared him, it made their children´s tales about the Long Night even more real. As for the pups… they were still found near the corpse of their mother, who had an antler on her neck, not far from the stag who killer her´s carcass. It was even more foreboding now that they know what was soon to happen, like an omen given by the gods themselves. The children too, as they now refused to part with the pups even in the night. Rickon specially would throw a tantrum of epic proportions if someone dare to even touch Shaggydog.

She was of a better humor now that she was thinking about her children and their protectors… until she stumbled upon an unwanted sight. The bastard and his own protector. The boy had his white wolf in his lap, caressing him as he softly read a book he must have taken from maester Luwin´s turret. The animal seemed to be dosing off, the boy… the boy looked like the image of beauty itself. With his high cheekbones, his easy elegance and his perfect poise despite being in an informal setting, he seemed like someone born and raised nobility. Even the light contributed to that, by making those dark eyes shine purple. And bringing the name Ashara Dayne again to her mind.

“Who said you can bring precious books out of the library?” she spat. The bastard simply raised his head. “Those books are for my children to use. Give it back.”

“Last time I saw, none of your children could read High Valyrian” he said. Catelyn went red at the insinuation that her children lacked in something. “But my apologies, Lady Stark, I will make sure to return it to it´s rightful place.”

“Wait” she stopped him before he moved. “YOU read High Valyrian?”

“High and Bastard, also write it… I am Valyrian after all” he answered, enjoying the confused expression she put. “Well, half. The half that isn´t Stark” he smirked at her. “How does it feel, Lady Stark? To know that all this time, you have been cursing the wrong woman?”

“Why do you care?” Catelyn glared at him. “I couldn´t care less if the whore that opened her legs to Ned was Rhyonish or Valyrian, that doesn´t make you any less of a shame or a bastard. And put that book back in it´s place.” She turned to leave, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. “Release…”

“There is something I have learned since I left and think I should tell you before you commit a mistake” the boy stated. “Don’t wake the dragon, Lady Stark.”

“Leave your counsel to someone who wants it, bastard”

She shook the boy off and went off towards the Godswood. As she walked, the image in her mind she had made herself of the boy´s mother started to shift. Ashara Dayne´s image, dark skinned and haired and purple eyed, changed into a woman of silver hair and purple eyes with high cheekbones, smiling smugly at her. She bit her lips as she imagined her, perhaps a Lyseni whore or camp follower. The Lady of Winterfell tried to use her son´s featured to make her face… but ended up with nothing.

Catelyn frowned, how did a Valyrian woman look like? She hadn´t met many valyrian in her life, most were of Andal or First Men heritage. The Lady then remembered the tourney of Harrenhal. She attended to meet Brandon, but ended up meeting more people than just her betrothed. Including some of the most pureblooded valyrian people in Westeros. And now that she thought about them, Jon Snow´s mother must have looked remarkably like Rhaella Targaryen. Her son also look a lot like the late Queen, but not as much as he looked like her equally late son, Rhaegar Targaryen. Yes, they were… if you take the long face of the Starks out of the equation, Jon Snow had the same high cheekbones, the same nose and throat, even the same dark eyes that shone purple when light fall on them. Yes, the boy was as pretty as the Prince… it irked at her and gladdened her at the same time. Gladdened because once you noticed it, the boy didn´t resemble Ned that much, he was too much. And irked because…

“Did it arrived?” Ned asked. Catelyn stopped herself. Without noticing, she had arrived to the heart tree. “Robert´s message… is Jon Arryn dead?”

“Yes” the woman answered, sitting down next to him. “But there was a change. Lysa was caught this time, she… she didn´t have the time to flee” she looked down at the scroll. “You know what it means.”

“Someone in the capital remembers” he sighed. “And Robert? The King is coming here?”

“Yes, he is. He is coming to ask you to be his Hand” she looked at him with hope. “Are you going to accept it? We need you here, in the North. The Long Night is coming and…”

“I know, Cat, I know, but being the Hand of the King makes it possible for me to gain the support of the southern Kingdoms for our fight. Or at least to get the funds to build more glass gardens in the North, which we are going to need” he didn´t seem amused by that. “And I won´t be committing the same mistakes as before.”

“Ned…”

“I will return to you this time, Cat, I promise you that.” He played a bit with her hair. He always seemed to like it… but he really did? “What´s the matter?”

“Do you… really like the color of my hair?” she asked, practically blurting it out. Her husband seemed confused. “I don´t know, I thought… you preferred it dark… or… or silver” he was even more confused. “Wasn´t the bastard´s mother silver haired?”

“Where did you get that idea?” Lyanna was dark haired AND HIS SISTER.

“The bastard, I saw him reading a book in high valyrian in the yard and I… I had a chat with him. And he said that he was half-valyrian. And I believe him… not that I have seen many valyrian people in my life, but he kind of reminds me of the Targaryens I saw in Harrenhal” Ned went stiff as a rod as soon as he heard that… “In fact, the only person he resembles more than her, it´s Rhaegar Targaryen” oh, Gods. “And I thought… Ned, are you alright? You look pale.”

“I… no, it´s only… never compare Jon to a Targaryen again, it´s disturbing” and more than a little dangerous. He would also need to have a serious chat with that boy later, he told himself as he tried to reign in his panic. “Also never mention his mother ever again.”

“Ned, I… I´m tired of all this, I need answers. Who she was? Did you love her? More than me?”

“Cat, I love YOU, it´s that not enough” he tried to deviate the conversation. “And, if you feel threatened by her in any way, the only thing you need to know is that she died birthing Jon and asked me with her last breath to raise him”

“Ned…”

“She is dead and buried, Cat, has been for a long time. Is it not enough?”

It wasn´t, but for now, she will let things lay. She had, after all, nothing to worry about now. She was Ned´s wife, Lady of Winterfell and of the North. The specter of a dead woman, be it Ashara Dayne or a Valyrian whore, didn´t need to haunt her anymore. Or at least that was what she said to herself to stay calm, even faced with the living reminder that Ned had loved another woman. Her anger stirred when her son looked at her with the smug smile of him. That bastard… needed to leave.

-In King´s Landing-

Jaime was watching over the Silent Sisters surrounding Jon Arryn´s body in the Sept. Normally, the grieving widow would be there watching over the procedure or some relative, perhaps someone close… but there was no one. Lysa Arryn´s body was burned and buried somewhere without a grave as all kinslayers were, Sweetrobin was already shipped off to the Vale, Robert didn´t have the patience to stay in the Sept and Cersei had stayed at the beginning, but then left to do better things. Preferably to enjoy herself with one, two or all the Kettleback brothers. Quite loudly too, specially when he was forced to be her guard. Her vengeance for leaving her, or so he thought. Sometimes he wondered what exactly did he see in his sister… certainly a madness of youth.

“Brother!!” Tyrion then entered the Sept and called him, nearly making him roll his eyes. And talking about madness… “I thought I would find you here. As Cersei and Robert were not…”

“The King said someone of the Kingsguard have to stand vigil, so it´s my turn” Jaime said without moving. “Why are you here?”

“Something unplanned happened” the Imp explained. “Lord Lannister came to King´s Landing”

“What?!”

“As you heard, the Old Lion has left Casterly Rock and came here. The official version of the history is that he came to give his respect to the deceased Hand and Warden of the East, but there is something more. He also wants to talk to both of us, so once you finish here…”

Jaime continued standing vigil, but also lost in thought. His Father… the Old Lion… Tywin Lannister… it was going to be the first time he saw his father since coming back and he wasn´t sure he wanted to. The man was ruthless and dishonorable… and Jaime despised him for what he did to Elia and her children… but he also put his family and legacy over everything else. That sense was the one that didn´t allow him to kill Tyrion in his crib, or made him take Joy in despite her being a bastard. For that same reason, he felt that he could trust Tywin Lannister with Tommen, Myrcella or even Jocelyn more than he could Tyrion. It was a scary thought, to think that he could trust a cold murderer more than the brother he had loved, but… that brother was a malicious schemer too. And he wouldn´t put beside him to use his children for his own gain… Tywin too, but… now that he thought about it, he couldn´t trust any of them with his children, period. And Tyrion was practically Tywin come again, only that a few heads shorter.

When Ser Barristan finally relieved him, Jaime took his time to take off his Kingsguard armor before going to his Father´s chambers. There, he found a surprisingly sober Tyrion and his uncle Kevan wearing black. He almost teared up when he saw his uncle, but another image caught his attention before he could. Tywin Lannister, dressed in black but still as imponent as if he was dressed in crimson and gold, the same cold expression as before… and Jaime felt conflicted at seeing him.

“I was waiting for you, Jaime” Tywin said from besides his desk. “I want to hear what happened with Pycelle.”

“I could have explained that to you…”

“Oh, I´m sure, but as you were the one to tell Robert about the Tears of Lys, I thought to hear about it from another source.”

“There is nothing Jaime could tell…”

“Pycelle took a lot of risks to hide that he hired child prostitutes and Lysa Arryn used that to try and murder her husband, that´s everything that happened. He also accepted money… and the maester that worked for Jon Arryn would have told Renly Baratheon about his Tears theory… which he was already doing when we busted Lady Arryn´s attempt to flee. That Tyrion mentioned Queen Daenaera or Androw Farman wouldn´t have changed that.”

“But why did he mention it?” their father pressed even more. He turned to his youngest son. “Tyrion…”

“There was something that was fishy in this situation. And once I had time to go through Lady Arryn´s possessions, I confirmed it” he put papers on his father´s desk. Some of the edges or parts were burned. “This are letters Lady Lysa was going to send to several people, including her sister. She tried to burn them after being found out. In it, she blames us for Jon Arryn´s murder. It would have put us at odds with the Starks, probably even start a war. I think the sacrifice was worth it.”

“Indeed” Tywin conceded. Losing Pycelle wasn´t as bad as it could have been, he had at least five replacements lined up for him in case something happened to the Grandmaester. The Archmaesters in his pockets will make sure that happened. That the fool had taken gold from that wailing trout was also a sign of disloyalty, so he would need to get rid of Pycelle. But that was not the real problem. “From what I know of that madwoman, there is no way she could have planned this herself.”

“No, someone was manipulating her” Tyrion continued. “Ser Hugh told me that she had a lover, that he heard them moaning in her bedroom when Jon Arryn was attending to Realm´s business. I still haven´t identified him, but he is the most likely suspect.”

“I will take care of that from now on” Tywin announced. “When you go to Winterfell with Cersei, I want you to make it clear to the Starks that we didn´t have anything to do with Arryn´s death. Now Kevan, Tyrion, leave us alone.” They didn´t seem happy to leave, but obeyed. “When you return from the North, I plan to ask Robert to free you from the Kingsguard again. The real question is if you are ready to be who you were born to be.”

“And by that you mean Lord Lannister?” Jaime asked, crossing his arms. Anyway, he had taken a decision already. “Alright”

“What?” for once, Tywin looked surprised.

“But I want to put my own conditions on that” the other Lion continued. “I want to choose my own bride” this brought a frown to his father´s face. “Don´t be afraid, I´m not planning on marrying as low as Tyrion, but I already have someone in mind.”

Tywin opened his mouth to ask, but then Tyrion opened the door again.

“Ah, Father… did Jaime already informed you of his infatuation with Lady Brienne of Tarth?”

“He said out, Tyrion”

Jaime closed the door on the dwarf´s face, even if both of them were enjoying Lord Tywin´s confusion more than they would admit. The Lannister Lord, for his part, was wondering how much he had lost while his sons were in King´s Landing. Jaime was willing to leave the Kingsguard for a Lady? Why had none of his agents told him about his heir having an affair with a Lady? Tarth was small and in the Stormlands, definitely not what he would chose as a political ally or for a marriage of his eldest, but if it was the only thing that would make Jaime leave the Kingsguard, then he was ready to send Lord Selwyn an offer. If he didn´t manage to convince Jaime to reconsider before, that´s it.

Chapter Text

The Prince was kneeling in his room in front of the discreet, tiny altar he had made for himself. Many people commented around the Keep about how he had stopped praying in the Godswood, but he didn´t mind. It has been a long time since he had turned his back on the Old Gods of House Stark. Lady Stark and Septa Mordane had taken to close the doors of the Sept with chains so he didn´t contaminate it with his bastardy… as if he would worship the Seven after everything their followers said and did to his family. No, he had his own Faith to keep now. He prayed to Meleys for protection, Vhagar for courage and strength in the war to come, Caraxes for a luck in conquest and Meraxes for…

“Jon, I can´t sleep, I´m scared” Rickon said from his door. He rolled his eyes, trying to ignore the whinny child, but he continued. “Please, please, let me sleep with you, please…”

“Alright, alright” he said when he got his fill. He didn´t want to, but the little Stark could be bloody annoying. “Make yourself at home in the bed, I will join shortly.”

“Thank you, brother”

This irked Jon a bit. As did many things Rickon now do, like clung to his side like a little leech. Only because he came back to him, because he tried to save him… Rickon seemed to think that because Jon Snow tried to rescue him from Ramsay Bolton they were still siblings, that he still loved him… but Jon Snow died like a lifetime ago. The old man inside of him held nothing but contempt for the Starks and he was sure that, given the chance, if he had not died so young, Rickon would have also betrayed him like Sansa and Brandon did. Or worse, like Arya did.

“What are you doing?” the boy suddenly asked, looking at the candles that represented the Fourteen Flames of Old Valyria. They had the names of the Gods carved on them in the glyphs of Valyria too, so there was no way the child understood them.

“I´m praying, which is why I need silence” he answered, irritated. But not as much as he should be. It was more a benign kind of irritation that came to him when his… no, don´t go there. Rickon was a Stark, he was Sansa´s brother, Brandon´s brother, the enemy, not one of his own.

“I thought you followed the Old Gods, weren´t you supposed to pray in the Godswood?”

“Wasn´t Faith supposed to be a choice?”

“According to Mother, we are supposed to follow the Seven or the Old Gods. The Septa says that if we don´t follow the Seven, we will burn in the Seven Hells” well, that was expected. The wretched woman wouldn´t know a better way of scaring young children into believing in her Gods. Thank Balerion she never paid him any attention… and he didn´t burn anyway. “I follow the Old Gods, in Skagos I learned only of them.”

“Good for you”

“But I also learned to respect other people´s believes, they never force anyone to follow the Old Gods like them… even if they do other things that are wrong” he sat down in the bed. “Did your Gods ever answer you?”

“I believe yes” they gave them the dragons back, that was all the answer he and his needed. “They did.”

“And you believe in them because of that?”

Jon sighed and blew the candles. He wasn´t going to be able to focus on his prayers with Rickon asking so many questions. The Gods of Old Valyria surely won´t mind, he was in the heart of enemy territory now. Besides, he didn´t want to get into a theological debate with a bloody Stark of all things. He was sure he knew more things about the Old Gods than any of Lady Stark´s Southern brood. Well, more than Sansa, anyway, who didn´t respect any god. Robb, who even married under the Seven, definitely. Brandon… being a greenseer didn´t make him a believer, he only used the Old Gods power to make himself powerful. Rickon… perhaps not. And Arya was a followed of the Many Faced God. End of the conversation. What did they truly knew about the Godswood, the sagas or the tales of their people when they didn´t spend enough time with their father? He, who lived in the True North like one of them, knew. That he didn´t follow was a choice.

“You know what, I have prayed enough. Let´s go to sleep” he finally said, getting up from his place in front of the altar. “You are still in time to go bother your older brother” his actual older brother who was not an evil greenseer. “I won´t be mad”

“I want to be with you”

“Great” Jon resigned himself and laid down besides the small boy. “Good night”

“Jon?” Rickon interrupted after a moment.

“Hummm?”

“Do you think the Gods are truly watching over us?”

“They wouldn´t have given us this second chance if not” he answered, feeling his eyelids close. “Go to sleep, Rickon. I will chase any monster away.”

“Thank you, brother”

He should really stop. He should throw the boy out of his room and tell him to never bother him again. Rickon was a Stark, after all, he would be more than entitled to that. But, at the same time, he was so young and died so, so young. Jon cursed his weak heart. It´s what being made a father and then a grandfather do to you, you become weak for children. At least he did. He let himself sleep into a sweet dream when he was back in Volantis and his children were small, running around the courtyard and laughing, playing with Larence´s and Aurane´s children. He watched from the entrance, smiling… and with HER by his side… she hasn´t been there last time to see them grow up… and it had been all their fault…

“Jon, it´s time to wake up” Robb´s voice rose him from sleep. The Heir to Winterfell was smiling. The Prince frowned, why was he so happy? “I have to say… I didn´t expect this from you. Or from him. Usually it´s me who he looks for when he has a nightmare.”

“You weren´t there when his nightmares became real” Jon answered, freeing himself from Rickon´s embrace. “Can you take him to his nurse? She must be searching for him.”

“Sure” Robb picked up his little brother and got out of the room. Jon got up and quickly changed after dressing up. The clothes he was wearing were old, things he inherited from Robb because they no longer fit his taller cousin, at least not until he finished growing. Typical Lady Stark. “Why are you back?”

“Can´t I seek my brother´s company in the morning?” Robb said.

“No” specially because he wasn´t his brother. “Go bother Brandon or Rickon if you want that.”

“Come on, Jon” the Young Wolf tried again. He didn´t understand, when had things soured up so much with Jon? They were disperse when he died, but didn´t outright hate one another. Now it seemed like his pack, his once closely knit family, was falling apart at the seams. “I know that you miss your wife and children, but…”

“Don´t say another word” his hands clenched into fists.

“I only want to tell you that I´m sure she was an incredible woman and that your children were strong and beautiful too…” he didn´t let the Stark finish that. He grabbed him by the collar and threw him against a wall.

“NEVER” Jon stated, his eyes blazing in fury. Robb was actually scared now. “talk about my wife and children again. No Stark has any right to even say their names.”

The Prince released him and walked away, leaving the Heir to Winterfell to pick up himself. Just what in the world had happened to make Jon hate them in such a way? Arya told him that his wife and daughter had died, but had his family… no… simply… no. Sansa might be a spoiled brat, but she was prim and proper, a perfect lady. She wouldn´t so something like that. And Bran had followed him and Jon like a little duckling. There was no way they would do something as horrible as he had imagined… he still spent nearly all the meal staring at his siblings. Sansa looked much less prim and proper than he remembered, embittered even. Bran didn´t seem to care about anything… and Jon kept his eyes on his meal. Arya also seemed cold towards her siblings. And that´s why Lady Catelyn proposed that her children accompany her to the Sept later.

“Jon can go too?” Rickon asked, making both Lady Stark and her stepson froze.

“What?” Catelyn asked. Jon´s fork stopped half-way to his mouth.

“Jon should join us” the child continued, probably not realizing the problem he was creating as he cheerfully continued. “He worships with candles like you, I´m sure he would…”

“The Septs would never allow a bastard to enter” she glared at said bastard.

“And this bastard would never be interested in the teachings of the Seven” he answered, holding the woman´s glare. “My faith is a different one.”

“Jon, you… I taught you the teachings of the Old Gods…”

“You gave them leave to choose which gods they would follow, their father´s or their mother´s. Do I not have the same right?” he quickly pushed the last pieces of bacon on his mouth. “I will leave now.”

The boy got up and left, going straight to his room. He kneeled in front of his little altar and grabbed the small, sharp piece of dragonglass Aurane procured for him. Making a small cut on his finger, letting drops of blood fall on two candles. He cut the blood and ignited the flames, sending a prayer to Morghul for his children, so they would be safe in the afterlife or see them returned to him. He asked the gods to return them to him, all of them, Dany too even if she was still alive by them, he only wanted to see them again… and then turned to Onixa. As he lighted her candle, he prayed for the fall of his enemies, of all of those that had done them wrong. Prayed to the Mistress of Vengeance and Magic to…

“Mazverdagon revenge ñuhon”

He continued with his day as ever, pretending he trained in the yard despite being better with a sword than most of the men in the training ground, pretending to listen to maester Luwin as he went on and on about the Andal conquest of Westeros. He actually paid attention when he started with Aegon the Conqueror, he has always liked that particular history. Not as much as the Black Queen´s, but it was great. He even got to translate a few passages from the Aegoneid for him. He was reading about how Aegon brought revenge to Argillac Durrandon after he killed his messengers when, as if inspired by Onixa herself, he got an idea. He could bring revenge to his enemies with Fire and Blood like Aegon, of course, but as he bid his time… he could play a bit with them too. Like his Flame of Onixa liked. And talking about her, he should contact her soon, specially as he knew where she was. Of course, after he had played a little bit with his enemies.

“Let´s see… let´s see” he said, later in the day, in his room as he watched the last of the candle melt. “Sam Tarly?”

No, that one was going to end anyway. Without him in the Watch to protect him, the piggy was going to be Aliser Thorne´s plaything until he died an early and dishonorable death. No need to intervene there.

“Bran… Sansa…”

No, let them stew in their furry that they couldn´t stop him for the moment without revealing exactly what they were for now.

“Ser Davos…”

He doubted even Aurane could reach Stannis Batatheon´s favorite plaything for the moment. And he won´t risk him like that.

“Tyrion Lannister”

A vicious smile came to his face. Yes, he couldn’t take Tyrion out yet, but he could play with the dwarf a little bit. Didn´t Tyrion himself say he enjoyed cyvasse? Jon enjoyed that too. And the game was not only strategy, but learning to distract their opponent and win the upper hand. Much like a battle or politics. And he knew something that would serve perfectly to raise Tyrion´s hackles without giving himself away. He was sure it would work, after all, weren´t children the most precious treasure in their parent´s eyes? Well, not in Tywin Lannister but that wasn´t a characteristic that he passed onto his brood. If not, Tyrion wouldn´t be in this problem right now.

“This will be fun” he told himself as he grabbed pieces of parchment and a quill to write a message to an old friend and an old enemy.

-In Oldtown-

Alleras has always enjoyed lessons with Archmaester Marwyn. At least in her youth. She knew he was ridiculed as “Marwyn the Mage”, but she had learned a lot of things from him that she could put to use… of course, the most important she learned later. Also, the magic around them wouldn´t allow for her to show her most… important talents yet. No worries, she would have to do with what she had. And for what she planned to do, it was more than enough. So, at the end of the lecture, she approached the Mage.

“Formidable lecture, Archmaester” the acolyte said, keeping her tone as rough as she could, faking being a man. “I didn´t know the Lhazareen maegi could use this kind of pact to change destiny for life” she did, but Daenerys nor her consort liked to even mention Mirri Maz Dur or anything related to her, not even so many years after her death. “You must have travelled thousands of miles.”

“Yes, I have. The woman that taught me about the Lhazareen and the Great Shepard was someone very well learned despite not knowing even how to write… wonder how she is now”

“Perhaps safe” perhaps feeding the worms, where she belonged, the woman thought. “But let´s not talk about acquaintances of the past anymore. I have something to ask you” she joined her hands. “Would you lend me a few glass candles?”

“Why would you want them? Are you researching something about ancient Valyrian culture?”

“No, I want to cast a spell”

“Impossible, there is no…”

“But I can” she said, very sure of herself. She, after all, had done it in the past. So many times and so well that she had been called the Three Eyes Raven´s Nemesis. She, after all, came from two distinctively magical lineages, the royal line of Ny Sar and the Targaryens. “You can watch if you want. Out of this, I only want the item I´m going to enchant.”

“If you put the materials, I don´t see why not.”

Marwyn didn´t seem to believe her, but he did. Humm, for someone who believed in ghosts and other otherworldly things, he was reticent when talking about spells. Perhaps it was because he had tried himself without success. And how he could be successful when the Andals rejected magic from a long time ago? Anyway, that worked for her. She got the materials for her spell. The glass candles were delivered to her for the preparations by the Archmaester himself when she got everything. Alleras put everything in it´s place and got to her knees. Marwyn was watching, she was sure of that, but he and his acolytes were doing so from a hidden place not to interrupt… or simply to mock in a place where they won´t be a bother to the Archmaester.

Alleras grabbed the piece of dragonglass she had gotten. It was sharp as a knife, it would do it well. The acolyte slashed her finger and draw glyphs in the glass candles. Then draw a line in her forehead and her mouth, as it ritually done in Valyrian weddings. Because, even if it was for a moment, she was to join her soul with the one of the goddess.

“Weave nykeā web se ivestragon nykeā history oh, Onixa, sīr bona lī qilōni weave hae sȳrī might shifang” she started chanting. “Blessed onixa, grant aōha peace se patience rȳ se tegon. Tolvie hill, tolvie valley, tolvie qelbar se qelbar shall vāettan aōha rijagon.”

The murmur that went around the place made her smirk. She knew that they were there, but that they would give themselves away so easily… that was stupid. Alleras lifted her head, the flames in the once cold dragonglass candles were small, tremulous, insignificant to many, but not to her. To achieve something like that in this world still devoid of magic, devoid of dragons of before the Red Comet and Daenerys Unburnt was great. It was the sign of a great magician, something she had achieved despite beginning late. Her Dragon Queen and Consort better appreciate her skills.

“What…” Even Marwyn was marveled.

“Riñnykeā Onixa, nyke call naejot ao. Māzigon ezīmagon issa lenton se sit bē issa prūmia nyke call naejot ao hae nyke weave issa web paint issa picture se bardugon issa history bless issa lenton se lentor rūsīr se protection ao emagon naejot jiōragon bless se recipient rūsīr aōha protection se grant zȳhon aōha ōños bless issa lenton se lentor rūsīr se protection ao emagon naejot jiōragon se tepagon se recipient hen bisa blessed egros aōha protection.”

Alleras grabbed the blade and put it on the center of the glass candles, the symbols of Onixa´s presence and power. Poor Archmaester Marwyn, to try so many times… but he didn´t have what it takes. SHE did. As she manipulated the magic to finish the spell, the glyphs appearing in the blade as it was completed. A handle of dragonglass, a blade of high purity silver. It would enhance the protective magical traits of the material.

“I know that I probably should know this, but, what kind of spell did you put on the blade?” the Mage asked when the candles finally went off. “And how did you make the candles burn?”

“The glass candles are the symbol of Onixa, goddess of sorcery of Old Valyria. She was the one that handed the first glass candle and the first spell book to the sorcerers” she answered. “Of course, that´s not all that it takes, but… saying a prayer to Onixa before a spells, before we borrow her power, is helpful if not important.”

“And the blade?”

“You are the one that studied magic and what each element could do in a spell” she lifted the dagger. “What does dragonglass do?”

“A lot of things, but contain and amplify magic”

“And silver?”

“It purifies… and wards against poisons”

“Exactly”

Alleras went to his room after that ceremony, knowing full well that by tomorrow everybody would be talking about the strange acolyte that could give lessons on magic to the Mage, of how he could do actual magic. She was sure that the grey rats would try to poison her… but she will continue with her play. The Dragon Prince had always said it was strange that there have been no maester in the Tower of Joy where he was born. He understood that Prince Rhaegar didn´t trust Pycelle, but not to trust any maester besides his own uncle… yes, there was something there. And she was going to find it. But before…

“I was expecting you. Tell me, did you receive the same letter from our Prince that I did?” the girl said. She and her companion wore the same attires, a boy peasant get with cloaks over them. The tavern they were seeing each other in wasn´t reputable either. “My dear Caraxes…”

“Don´t call me that, Princess”

“I´m no Princess anymore, Ser. I´m not a Martell like you are not an Allyrion, even if we carry their blood. I didn´t mind when I was the last and the Ironwoods had usurped my kin… but now they are alive again and I want them to have it.” She grabbed his hands. “But one thing would never change. We had each other in the best and the worst… you are family, Daemon.”

“Prin… Sarella”

The flame of Onixa and the flame of Caraxes, two of Rhyonish blood loyal to the dragonlords to the end, the Viper Witch of the Sand and the Warrior of Doom. Yes, Larence was a great warrior and war leader, but Daemon was a warrior worth ten swords by himself, even in the worst of situations. During their exile, after the Great House Nymeros Martell had been practically destroyed and slaughtered by the Lannisters helped by the Ironwoods, they spent a lot of time thinking about what to do with those who betrayed them. Nothing was enough. Daemon could kill Cletus Ironwood and put his skull on Arianne´s tomb thousands of times, Sarella could throw all the curses she knew over Anders Ironwood and Tyrion Lannister…. Nothing fulfilled them. Now… now they had the opportunity to do more. Now, they were going to save her family and his love.

“Here” she passed the dagger to him. “Give this to your Princess with all my love.”

“I thank you for all you are doing for her… and me”

“It´s nothing, I love Ari more than I love my own sisters at the moment” something easy considering everything they had done and how they contributed to the killing of their family. “Protect them, specially her, once you are in Dorne. You know the Lannisters could make their move at any moment.”

“Why don´t you come with me, Sarella? There is nothing tying you here, you already forged that damn chain…”

“I have my mission, just as you have yours. The Martells will soon become allies to the dragons, make sure they survive this first round” she slid something to him. “It´s a bit different to the ones you are used to, but…”

“It´s wonderful. And I can use whatever I have in hand as well as a sword” Daemon smirked after examining the weapon. “I will get going. May Onixa keep you safe, Witch.”

“May Caraxes grant you victory too”

-In King´s Landing-

Tywin Lannister wondered not for the first time who the mysterious sender of the letter currently on his desk was. When he arrived, mornings ago, the letter was already in it, without any clue of it´s sender. And it´s contents… the writer told him to look into the money that Tyrion seemed to be using for his whores, that there might be a surprise waiting for him if he did. The Lord of Casterly Rock at first discarded the message, but then, surprisingly, decided to humor the man. He assigned Kevan to look into the funds his disappointment of a son used in the brothels while Tyrion accompanied Robert in his long trip North. The result left him livid. And not only because of the amount of money the dwarf spent in his so-called brothel escapades.

“Are you sure?” he asked, trying to control his temper as his brother finished with his report.

“Sadly, yes” Ser Kevan said, already feeling bad for Tyrion. He liked his nephew, he really did and never wanted to see him hurt, but he would always put Tywin over him. “Ser Addam even went to Braavos to confirm it.”

“That…” Tywin couldn´t believe it. He couldn´t believe Tyrion found the whore after so many years and that he had been sending her money. And not only that, but she apparently had a daughter that apparently was Tyrion´s… he wouldn´t be so sure with the amount of men that raped her back then. “Get rid of her, permanently this time. And bring the girl to me, I want to see her.”

“I will tell Ser Marbrand to bring the girl and send Ser Amory to take care of the mother”

It had been weeks since he had learned of that and he was still seething. How dare he? How dare his useless dwarf of a son to touch the family funds to get his whore a nice house and life in exile? And how did he found her? He thought that, after so many years and thousands of whores, he had completely forgotten her or at least lost track of her. Apparently not. But this… this will finally make him learn.

“Brother?” Kevan said as he knocked on the door. “I bring the girl”

“Enter” Tywin answered coldly.

His brother entered, practically dragging a small girl with him. She is dirty and didn´t seem to be a day older than twelve years of age, still not a woman grown. Dressed in a simply attire, probably the most her mother could afford with the money Tyrion sent them (he couldn´t arise suspicions from his family), she hardly looked like a Lannister. The problem was that, once she rose her head to him, she did. She had the bright green eyes and golden hair of House Lannister and there was only one way she could have inherited it. He knew, no other man of Lannister blood raped the whore that night, he made sure of that. Tywin sighed as he examined her further. She didn´t look like Tyrion, thanks the Gods, and he might have killed her for being a spawn of the Imp that looked like Joanna… but she didn´t. In fact, the person she looked the most like was Genna and that stowed his anger for the moment. Or at least enough so he might spare the girl.

“Girl, what is your name?” she only made the sound of a scared mouse and lowered her head. “Stop squealing and answer my question.”

“La… Lanna, milord”

“My Lord” he corrected, his eyes hardening even more. What atrocious manners… but what was he expecting of a spawn of the Imp and his lowborn whore? “And you will address me as grandfather in front of the people from now on.”

“Ye… yes, my… grandfather” she answered, scared to death. First this people irrupted in her home and dragged her to a ship. And her mother… what happened to her mother? “Can… can I see my mother, my…”

“I didn´t give you permission to speak” Tywin continue looking at his newest granddaughter with disdain. This girl… it really irked him, but considering the circumstances of her conception, some would say that she was actually a trueborn Lady of House Lannister. And if other people knew… he should really address this issue quickly, in a discreet way. “Kevan, take her to our manse in the capital and get her a septa. A firm, discreet one. I will decide what to do with her later.”

“Of course, Tywin”

Ser Kevan grabbed Lanna and took her away. Tywin sat down on his desk. He normally wouldn´t have stopped just because kinslaying was a taboo, but this was only a girl. Like Joy Hill, a minor inconvenience. Like Joy, she will be dealt with swiftly by marrying her off quickly to someone that won´t ask too many questions or was indebted to the Lannisters enough to accept a daughter of a dwarf. Who knows, perhaps they might end up getting something for the girl. It was said that Walder Frey lost his last wife recently… if the old weasel was still unmarried, he might end up sending a proposal.

-In Pentos-

Daenerys had had enough of her brother. Viserys was not only weak, but such an obvious fool that she couldn´t believe she was actually raised by him. Well, someone had to have the brains in this family and it was definitely not either of her brothers. Her nephew-husband maybe, but apparently he only found them after she died. No matter, she is going to help him find them quicklier this time. But first…

“This should be enough” she said as she managed to empty the barrels of oil in the floor of the mansion. Illyrio still planned to sell her to Khal Drogo, who while somewhat of a good memory to her, was a slaver, the thing she detested the most. She won´t be anyone´s broodmare anymore. And she will have only one husband. “Now…”

Daenerys walked to the room where everything would start. It had taken her some time, but she managed to find it. The place where Illyrio kept her wedding present, the key to her success. And she will get them earlier this time. So she sent a prayer to Balerion and threw the candle she was using to light her way to the ground. The oil burned immediately, the fire starting to devour everything but her… and the three eggs in the coffer. She could hear the screams of people when the fire finally spread to the entire mansion, devouring them… luckily she had taken to block Illyrio´s, Viserys´ and the guard´s doors. Only the servants and the slaves would be able to leave… she truly hoped they were okay. Daenerys simply waited for the screams to fade, praying and waiting, her skin not burning. It was the same as when she walked into her dead husband´s pyre…

And then, her prayers were answered. The eggshells started to crack, first the black one, quickly followed by the green and white ones. Oh, how had she missed them. Her beautiful, great children, who she loved as much as those that had come from her womb.

“Come to muna, my children” she extended her hand, letting Drogon, Rhaegal and Viserion jump into her embrace. “We are together again. And we will always be together from now on… and once kepa joins us” her smile turned dark. “We will rule.”

Chapter Text

As the retinue of the King approached Winterfell, Tyrion found himself praying that what he found there was not entirely as he remembered. That they were still the naïve fools they were at the start of this history, because if they were not, then how was he supposed to manipulate them into doing what they should do? He didn´t have much influence in the Queen in the North in the first place, being more of a not-entirely-good memory she keeps at distance at the end of their lives. Her best former husband at most. Arya Stark… he knew that she had pondered if she should just sent him to his family more than once, only being stopped because he was one of the few people who can actually control whatever was inside her brother. The Three Eyed Raven scared him nearly as much as the Night King some times. The dwarf had learned to deal with him and possibly to stop some of his darkest plans… to some extend. He had seen the thing at his darkest too, but by then he had made his bed and had to lie on it. The Young Wolf and the little Wild Wolf died too early to make an opinion of them, but he was sure Robb Stark died an honorable fool like Ned Stark, so they would be easy… and the little one surely wasn´t going to be taken seriously into account for some time…

Oh, and the Gods save them if the Prince Dowager, Prince Regent, Prince Consort or whatever Jon Snow calls himself now remembers, because they were going to die in a flaming inferno if he did. He had been there when the lunatic and his even more crazy brood, his and the Mad Queen´s, starting burning Westeros and he could tell that it wasn´t much different as to die to the Walkers. Inferno was Inferno, no matter if it was hot or cold.

“You are thinking too hard, brother. So much that even Cersei is going to be aware of your thoughts if you continue.”

“Oh, Jamie, you didn´t tell me our dear sister was in your head. Tell me, does that telepathy phenomenon happens in normal siblings as well as in twins?” the Kingsguard huffed before looking to the front. “Don´t be like that, specially not when we are entering to the Wolf´s Den.”

“More like going to make the King you choose to follow.”

“I thought it was the best option after… what Daenerys Targaryen did in King´s Landing” he answered, crossing his arms. “Don´t be surprised if I repeat that action now”

“What I´m surprised of is that you haven´t gone off to the brothel like you did last time”

“There is something I need to see before that”

They entered the courtyard in that moment, preceding the King. As Cersei´s ridiculously enormous carriage made an effort to fit through the doors of Winterfell, Tyrion addressed the Stark family. Lord Eddard Stark and his wife were exactly like he remembered… but colder for some reason. Could it be because of what happened with Lysa Arryn? Robb Stark seemed to try not to look at Jamie and Rickon Stark was sending growls to them. Robert went down from his tired horse in that moment and all of them kneeled. That´s when he realized that Sansa was wearing a dark, northern dress and her hair in a northern style she favored in her younger days as Queen. If that was a dead giveaway, the fact that Arya Stark wore breeches and her hair short was more. He tried to see something different in Brandon, but only found apathy. Apathy was the only thing the Broken King managed anyway.

“Take me to the crypts, Ned, I want to present my respects”

“My love, we have been travelling for more than a month. The death can wait”

Cersei´s voice made him come back to the present moment. The Imp searched the back rows for Jon Snow, finding him kneeling next to the Greyjoy Ward. He addressed his body… he seemed awkward. And he was kneeling, so… from what he remembered, the proud last son of Rhaegar Targaryen won´t kneel easily, much less to the murderer of his father. He felt relief filling him, perhaps he still had a chance to avoid some… unpleasant outcomes. Even so, he should talk to the lad simply to be sure…

Eddard Stark, for his part, was trying to work out who knew in King´s Landing. He crossed Robert quickly and he hoped it wasn´t Varys. The Gods help them all if it was Baelish, but he didn´t think any God would favor the faithless worm of a Mockingbird. Cersei Lannister wasn´t sending venom at them, she most probably didn´t remember…

“You are too quiet, Ned” Robert talked as they descended to the crypts.

“I was only thinking, your Grace. Besides, am I not called the Quiet Wolf for something?” he chuckled at that. “Tell me about Jon Arryn.”

“We thought it was a malady at first, a simple illness of the bowels. But then the Imp said something about a Targaryen Queen or another Queen´s handmaidens getting poisoned… Tears of Lys, that was the name of the poison. Bloody thing burned through Jon within hours, it killed him painfully and fast.”

“And how did it led you to Lysa Arryn?”

“At first it didn´t led me to her, but to Pycelle. The bloody fool had let the bitch bribe him to let Jon die, so I brought him here myself to throw him to Castle Black” the King huffed. “Pycelle hadn´t delivered anything to the Tower of the Hand in days, and even then, he must have an accomplice there to administer the poison at the right time, so we went to investigate and found her trying to flee. She screeched something about her Sweetrobin and tried to kill both herself and her son… Bloody Hell, Ned, I know she is Cat´s sister, but dammit, she was insane!! Enough to give old Aerys a ride for his money!!”

“Cat told me… she said Lysa wasn´t her sister, not after what she had done” and would have done to Sansa, Eddard added in his thought.

“What irks me is that she would have gotten away with poisoning Jon had the Imp not opened his mouth at that moment” Robert stopped himself. “Are we there yet?”

“Yes, we have arrived”

They were in front of Lyanna´s statue. Robert watched it with something in his eyes that some would call love and, not for the first time, Eddard felt a bit of guilt for letting his friend believe a lie. For Robert to still love a woman that never loved him, that preferred another man and eloped with him… Ned was not a fool, not after he had seen the man Robert was. He knew Lyanna had a point when she said that love wouldn´t change a man´s nature. Yes, Robert and Cersei hated each other, there was no love there, but Robert wouldn´t have stopped his womanizing ways for his sister either. He… simply wasn´t the man he thought he was and Lya wouldn´t have simply sat down quietly while he whored his way through the Seven Kingdoms. Deep inside, he was also sure that Robert and Lyanna would have hated each other with even more passion than Robert and Cersei had they actually married… but that doesn´t mean he thought that what she did was good either.

“What is that? Tell me, Ned, one of your children left it there for her?”

In the hands of the statue, where Robert wanted to put a falcon´s feather, laid a crown of winter roses. It was carefully done, something that Sansa would have made… but, for some reason, he was sure that she was not the culprit. He waited for an explosion, knowing that it would remind Robert of Rhaegar, but the King only laughed and put the crown in the statue´s head.

“That is how it should be worn… by my Queen of Love and Beauty” the Baratheon King continued, putting the feather in the stone hands. “My sweet, sweet Lyanna.”

If only you had known her, Ned barely avoided saying by biting his tongue. Lyanna wasn´t sweet, wasn´t a southern maiden with her head in the clouds, who sang and sew her days away. And she certainly wasn´t the woman Robert had in mind. She was a fierce thing that rode a horse and joust better than many a knight, that would cross sword with Maege Mormont and Jorelle Flint occasionally. He could see so much of her in Jon, starting with the fierceness in those deep purple eyes that might have been inherited from his father, but contained something that could only come from his mother.

Unknown to him, he was not the only person in Winterfell who thought of Jon Snow in that moment. Tyrion Lannister had finished directing the servants to his rooms and had gone to the sparring yard to find the young bastard. He needed to determine if he was still the gullible, honorable idiot Ned Stark had raised or if he already had the mind of the menace he had turned into after Daenerys´ Fall. He finally found him, hacking at a training dummy with his sword just like last time. It was a bit early, no?

“Who are you? What are you doing back there?” the boy asked, lifting his head from his opponent. The dwarf showed himself. “You are Tyrion Lannister, the Queen´s brother.”

“My greatest accomplishment without doubt. And you… you are Ned Stark´s bastard” the spark of fury in his eyes and him trying to run away were something that signaled Jon Snow. “Did I offend you? Sorry. You are the bastard, though.”

“Well, Lord Eddard Stark is my father”

“And Lady Stark is not your mother. Making you the bastard” Tyrion smiled inwardly. “Let me give you some counsel, bastard. Never forget what you are, for surely the world will not. Make it your strength. Then it can never be your weakness. Armor yourself in it, and it will never be used to hurt you.”

“What the hell do you know about being a bastard?”

“All dwarfs are bastards in their father's eyes.”

Tyrion Lannister left that yard smiling, convinced that he was dealing with Jon Snow, who valued honor and family so much that he was easily manipulated in the past. It was great, better in fact. He could convince him of anything, even of killing Daenerys again if things got complicated. The Lannister wouldn´t put it past that madwoman to kill her own husband and nephew, but she would doubt and that will give him the opportunity to…

“Lord Hand” Brandon Stark´s voice made him go still. The Three Eyes Raven then came out of the shadows like some kind of ghost. And he was not alone. His sister Sansa came next to him. “I saw you in the courtyard. Tell me, did you have an interesting conversation with the enemy, my lord?”

“The enemy, your Grace?”

“You know what my brother is talking about, Lord Hand, don´t act the dullard. It doesn´t suit the man who talked and manipulated his way out of a death sentence for treason” Sansa continue, smiling in a way that made her look way too much like Cersei for his comfort. He won´t be marrying this girl in this life, he now knew that, and he already pity the poor sod that would end up having her to wife. “Unless… unless you truly haven´t noticed” she laughed. “Is that so? I have to say that, it´s disappointing, Lord Tyrion. It seems that minds do lose their edge with time.”

“Mine is still as sharp as ever, my lady, it shows by the amount of books on the Others I have read just on my way here.”

“We will see, Lord Tyrion we will see” Sansa said, clearly amused, while the Raven simply kept quiet. “I sincerely hope that you enjoy the hospitality of Winterfell. I think the last time you didn´t get to enjoy it to the fullest.”

Last time… last time he was there, the North barely had any food to offer and it´s people were growing more and more discontent with the Stark rule. He didn´t blame Sansa, as the discontent was both in the North and in the South… and he couldn´t say that he really didn´t have a part on it. After a harsh winter and the first invasion of the White Walkers, the last thing he should have accepted was the Northern Independence, it would cause a famine… in the northern part of the continent. The South was faring a bit better, but he couldn´t say that they loved their Broken King. Anyway, he could ignore the situation, at least until a few Northern Lords got the genius idea to involve the Targaryens. Suddenly it turned dangerous and he had to move to Winterfell himself to assure Queen Sansa of their support of her rule and that they would be there with her if they decide to invade. Everything so the Targaryens didn´t have a safe port to land and start their invasion… a useless effort, as we would find out later.

Anyway, Tyrion wasn´t going to let something far in the past bother him. Yes, news of the fire in magister Illiryo´s manse and the death of Viserys Targaryen reached Robert´s entourage even in the far North, also of the disappearance of the Mad Queen herself, but Varys was already on the case and she could remember, but was just a girl alone in the streets of Essos. Resourceful as she was, even Daenerys Targaryen would be at disadvantage in that situation. Besides, she was weak for Jorah Mormont, the very agent Varys sent to track and end her, so she would be really hard pressed to kill her Bear Knight. He thought for a second that she could have her dragons with her, but it was too early. She hadn´t married Khal Drogo, hadn´t carried his child… she couldn´t have her dragons yet. And, even if she had, they were too young to be any protection to their mother yet.

“Come on Imp, why aren´t you drinking?! I thought you would be competing with me again!!” the oaf of a King, Robert, said loudly, a serving girl in his lap. “Let´s toast to the end of the Targaryens!!”

“There is still the girl, your…”

“Bah, the whore won´t last much in the streets of Essos, not with Varys sending knives after her” he dismissed. “I´m soon going to receive new of the last dragonspawn´s death!!”

“If you say so, Your…”

A sound of doors opening suddenly made everyone around quiet quickly. A figure in black livery entered the Main Hall. It took Tyrion a whole ten minutes to realize who it was. He looked like Jon Snow, but he was definitely NOT Jon Snow. The bastard of Winterfell was a quiet, honorable, dour fool that put his father´s believes over everything. This person… well, he definitely wasn´t quiet, he wouldn´t have made such a theatrical entrance if he didn´t want attention to him. And he was used to receiving attention, he could tell that in the way he walked or moved, even in the head held high as only a prideful monarch could. As for the honorable part, the man had a shine in his eyes that, at least to Tyrion, signaled deep cunning. This was a man willing to throw honor away if it was convenient to him.

“Your Graces” the boy said as he stopped in front of the High Table to make such an elegant bow that it could have put Cersei to shame. “Jon Snow to your service.”

Tyrion cursed himself when he realized what was going on. It was his entire fault that he had been fooled. Since his banishment to the Wall, he hadn´t seen Jon Snow face to face again. Known of him or even written to him, yes, but they didn´t see each other again, not even in the battlefield. The dwarf knew that the bastard finally learning to be cunning and that honor was not everything there was, the elegance that was required in a highborn and even some underhanded methods to operate a kingdom, but he never thought that he had changed enough to fool him. And now, he was made a fool in front Brandon and Sansa Stark.

“Ah, someone I wanted to meet for a long time!!” Robert talked, cheerful as ever, while he completely ignored his friend Eddard´s look of horror. “You are Ned´s bastard, no?”

“That´s how I´m known, yes” the dragonspawn answered, sending an amused glare to the rapidly blanching Lord Stark. Or was it to the livid Lady Stark? “I must admit that I also wanted to meet you, Your Grace, I have grown up knowing the tales of the battles you fought with…” he gave Ned a look. “my father”

With or against? Tyrion wanted to ask, but decided that keeping his mouth shut for the moment. He didn´t want to give the impression that House Lannister had known about another dragonspawn in Westeros and not informed the King.

“Yes!! Those were good times, no, Ned?” the brute elbowed his friend, who remained quiet. “Battles to fight and girls to fuck!!”

“As… as you say… your Grace” Lord Stark managed to say.

“With the permission of Lord and Lady Stark, I want to offer you some entertainment myself. I don´t want to brag, but I´m a gifted singer and want to sing something for the King and Queen… if they allow me.”

“Of course, boy, someone needs to show off their talents.”

The bastard smiled and made a signal to some of the musicians and they started to play. Tyrion swallowed hard. Would anyone believe him if he dared to tell someone that those musicians were wildlings and the King-Beyond-the-Wall himself? Did it really matter? Jon Snow then began singing The Last of the Giants, followed by the whole series of Bael the Bard´s songs. Was he insane? He knew that Targaryens were not known for their mental stability but singing those songs in the heart of the North was asking for trouble. Robert, instead, seemed to be enjoying the spectacle so much that he had completely forgotten the serving wench in his lap. And he and Cersei actually smiled together when they reached the part where Bael seduced the daughter of Lord Brandon Stark. Joffrey also laughed, but it seemed to be more to the humiliation in the faces of Sansa and Catelyn Stark. Eddard, for his part, only seemed like he was about to have a stroke.

“Well, it was an entertained performance, boy” Robert Baratheon said when he finally stopped. “I must say, there are some things there I didn´t learned from my maester. Eh, Ned?” he elbowed his quiet friend again. “You have future as a bard, I have to say.”

“Perhaps” the boy said, grabbing a harp from one of the musicians. “I must say, I had one more song for my performance today, but think I should end it here. I wouldn´t want to offend his Grace in any way.”

“Nonsense!! You couldn´t offend me in any way!!”

“It´s a song in High Valyrian, your Grace, and I fear that there is no translation to Western that sounds as well…”

“Don´t worry, I hated the dragonspawns, not all the people who spoke High Valyrian. On with your song, boy, even if most of the people here won´t understand it.”

The boy smirked and started to play the harp. Tyrion´s goblet actually fell from his hand when he heard that sound. Well, if Eddard Stark hadn´t had that stroke yet, he certainly was going to have one now, when his children actually told him what the bastard´s words were.

“Nyke dārys toliot se mountains
issa tīkuni issi raqagon nykeā hurricane
feel se bāneves hen issa jelevre
nyke perzys, nyke morghon

Nyke smaug
Titan hen jēdrar
Ao jāhor zūgagon issa
Cower hae issa tīkuni eclipse se vēzos
Sovereign hen perzys
Ilagon va aōha knees
Ao līs gīmigon ao kostagon't dakogon
Nyke smaug

Nyke dārys toliot se mountains
Byka thief isse issa domain
Rȳbagon se furnace isse issa chest
nyke perzys, nyke morghon

Nyke smaug
Titan hen jēdrar
Ao jāhor zūgagon issa
Cower hae issa tīkuni eclipse se vēzos
Sovereign hen perzys
Ilagon va aōha knees
Ao līs gīmigon ao kostagon't dakogon
Nyke smaug

Wrath se ruin
Desolation
ziry iksos ry ñuhon, ziry iksos ry ñuhon
wrath se ruin
desolation
ziry iksos ry ñuhon, ziry iksos ry ñuhon

Nyke smaug
Titan hen jēdrar
Ao jāhor zūgagon issa
Cower hae issa tīkuni eclipse se vēzos
Sovereign hen perzys
Ilagon va aōha knees
Ao līs gīmigon ao kostagon't dakogon
Nyke smaug”

Yes, Ned Stark was having that stroke now. A pity to have come all this way for nothing, but with Jon Snow or whatever he had turned into after he finally wisened up there, it was inevitable. At least, that´s what Tyrion thought as he watched the boy receive the cheering from the King and even a smile from his wretched sister and nephew. The bastard finally bowed to retire to the lower tables after humiliated the Starks enough and giving a good spectacle to give his heart content, but then he stopped in the middle of turning around.

“Ah, Lord Tyrion, you are there. I barely saw you with such a high table” giggles from his sister and nephew followed that statement. “It´s a pleasure to talk to you again, my Lord.”

“Likewise” the former Hand answered. And added in his mind… “Welcome back to the game, Your Highness the Prince Regent.”

-In Tarth-

Brienne walked through Evenfall Hall quickly. She had just finished training in the yard and was now going to assist her father in other matters… she wished she could do much more, but she wasn´t in the position to do that. The Beauty was no great Lady nor member of the Small Council anymore to influence the politics of the Realm and if she were to start saying that Ice Monsters out of some old wives´ tale were coming for them, everyone would think her as mad as Lysa Arryn. So she needed to do what she still could, which means preparing Tarth and the Stormlands to some degree for the War of the Dawn and convincing Gendry Baratheon to make them Valyrian steel again. She had left Tyrion and Jamie the mission of trying to prevent the War of the Five Kings, now she will do her part.

“Hello, Father” Brienne said as she entered Lord Selwyn´s solar. She then grabbed one of the constable books from his desk and sat down in her own. “Do you need more help than with the books?”

“Not today, thank you, daughter” Selwyn smiled from his position in the desk. They worked in silence for a time until the old man finally put his papers away and put his hands together. “You know… when you brought that boy here, I got worried.”

“That… you mean Gendry?” she asked, confused. “Why were you worried?”

“Because… well, there is no mystery as who he resembles. And you…”

“Oh, that” Brienne actually blushed when she remembered how smitten she had been with Shinny Copper Renly. She actually gave thanks that she got over it. Besides, it was a childhood crush when you compared it to what she had started to feel for Jamie, even when she tried to deny that to herself. “Father, you don´t have to worry about that. I got over Lord Renly a long time ago.”

“I´m glad to hear that… and to notice that too” the man chuckled. “Besides, despite what I initially believed, the boy was actually quite the asset, as you said. You don´t find such a talented smith each day.”

“He was an apprentice of Tobho Mott, he had to be skilled” he also managed to produce the first Valyrian Steel in centuries, Brienne kept quiet. “Is that why you wanted to talk to me? Because you no longer believe I will do something stupid with a bastard boy that looks like Lord Renly?”

“No, I… a proposal has arrived for you. I didn´t expect it to happen again, as you are a bit older than many maidens and… certainly not from such a Great House” he pulled a letter out and showed it to her. The Lion Seal made it clear from who it was. “It´s from Lord Tywin Lannister. He is proposing a marriage between you and his son Ser Jamie Lannister… who is in the Kingsguard, I know, but Lord Tywin assures that he could get the man out so he could become his heir and…”

“Jamie… really managed to convince his father to ask for that betrothal?”

“You don´t look so surprised” Selwyn´s eyes sharpened. “Since when do you know the Kingslayer, Brienne?”

“We met when I travelled to the capital, father. Took tea together a few times when he was not busy watching the King… and he told me that he wanted to spar with me too… after we did, he said something about betrothals, but it took it as a joke.”

“Well, it seems that it wasn´t” Selwyn said, putting down the letter. People tended to mock his daughter for her appearance, completely bypassing her heart. If the Lion of Lannister between all people didn´t… well, he would give him the benefit of the doubt. Even so, he was going to threat this carefully. “Nothing is set in stone yet, Brienne, I would never accept a betrothal for you before asking you, but… I´m considering it, it´s the only thing that I want you to know.”

“Yeah, I´m considering it too”

She talked with her father a bit more, thanking the Gods for giving her such a good and understanding father as Lord Selwyn Tarth. The Lady Knight would make her best not to disappoint him this time… nor her daughter. After she finished with her work, she said goodbye to her father and went to see Gendry. The former Lord of Storm´s End had made himself at home in the forge. In fact, he had already forged many masterworks that made the knights of Evenfall Hall praise their Lady for bringing such a great smith.

“I see that you have a lot of work”

“It helps keeping me occupied, my Lady” the lad answered, not taking his eyes from the metal he was melting. “This is good metal too.”

“Valyrian Steel would be better, no?” Gendry put a face that said exactly what he thought of that. “Gendry, I know what you think, but…”

“It´s not only my own reticence, my Lady, or my moral code that impedes me from making it. The materials simply doesn´t exist yet” he sighed. “You know that Valyrian Steel couldn´t simply be forged where there are no dragons, no?”

“Yes, but if it´s parts of dragons that you need, we can work something with Jamie to steal the dragon skulls from the Red Keep.”

“Fire that died to cinders doesn´t work, it had to be still alive to become steel” he answered, crossing his arms. “Also, you need to put the two flames together to… to make it.”

“I don´t understand”

“Oh? I thought you knew. That all of the Small Council knew”

“I was busy with the Rebellions back then, Podrick Payne practically took my place in the Small Council during that time and the Long Night that followed.”

“Hummm” Gendry picked up his hammer and watched it. “You know why the War with the Valyrians started?”

“The murder of Daenerys Targaryen and her daughter…”

“It was in part, that anger never stopped burning inside her widower and remaining children. It was old, but…” the smith turned to the flames. “I tried to make Valyrian steel with the remains of the Targaryen dragons, nothing worked. Until a strike of luck and we managed to take down a dragon in Shipbreaker Bay. Quickly imprisoning his rider, we managed to control the beast. And I started to experiment with it´s blood to create Valyrian Steel. It failed. I nearly give up until I had a last idea and I combined their bloods… and voila.”

Brienne thought about it, realizing she had heard of this before. She brushed it out, because she thought that if the Stormlands attacked, then the dragonrider surely was hostile, and she also cheered that the Lord of Storm´s End could detain him. But there was something in Gendry´s face that told her that…

“Brandon appeared the day after we took him prisoner. I didn´t even know he was in the Stormlands, then… I thought he was on King´s Landing. Now I know he was waiting for something, but… I didn´t learn until it was much later, much too late” he let his head fall. “They had attracted that dragonrider with promises of kinship, to repair his relationship with his long sundered kin, and of safe passage. The point of encounter was in the Stormlands… in a convenient place that would put him over Storm´s End and at reach of the scorpions I had put in the walls as a precaution.” His lips moved. “To this day, I don´t know what Brandon did to him in my dungeons, only that the screams were… horrible… and when he went out he was… lifeless… like a doll… or worse…”

The Lady covered her face, horrified. It meant that Brandon and Tyrion… Gods, did Queen Sansa knew?! She would surely be ashamed of her brother if she did!! And to think that Bran Stark was willing to hurt a kinsman, perhaps to even commit kinslaying and spark a war with the Targaryens for Valyrian Steel. It was… there was something else, she realized when she looked at Gendry´s ashamed face.

“The worst part… is that I was like them too… I was willing to throw my morals to the wind for a few pieces of Valyrian Steel” the Smith´s Chosen continued. “I´m scum, Brienne, and I don´t know why the Gods chose me, because I´m not a godly or a good man. A good man would have never let them torture an innocent man… nor do it himself after to gain more blood… and Gods… he was only a child… four and ten, my Lady, only a child… he died because of what I did…”

“Tahaegor Saeragyon rescued him…” Brienne said, trying to distract herself from the horror. They had talked to her about that dragonrider that was captured, Caraxes´ first rider, but they never commented anything about his age. She always thought it was one of the senior dragonriders, but… Gods, Brandon and Tyrion attracted a child to their trap, probably because they couldn´t do the older ones.

“It was too late, Brienne, he killed himself a fortnight later… and… it was my fault, as much as it was theirs. I had him in my dungeons, I could have said something or intervene or… but I didn´t do it” he passed a hand through his face. “They said that the Prince´s screams reached this shore when he died and I could have swear that I heard them… the same way he surely heard mine when my Borros died” his hand flew to his neck, where a small pendant with a stag sat. “He was young too, a surprise babe we had after a long time, after we believed my wife couldn´t give me more. He was barely five and ten when the Valyrians cooked him alive in his armor to take revenge. A child for a child, they were chanting.”

“Gendry…”

“And now you know why Jon Snow and Daenerys Targaryen want to kill me… and why I won´t make more Valyrian Steel” he continued. “The price I paid is too high.”

For that, Brienne didn´t have a retort.

Chapter Text

For the first time in weeks, Lord Tywin had time to himself. He was actually annoyed that he was using that precious time to see to that annoying issue, but it must be done. With Robert absent and him having convinced most of the inhabitants of the Red Keep that he had nothing to do with the poisoning of Jon Arryn… not that anyone believed it in the first place, not with the show of madness the former Hand´s wife had made, he only stayed and made damage control so the few sceptics (most of whom thought the Lannisters have been the ones to provide the poison because of the price) would be convinced. Now, all he had to do was to wait for Eddard Stark´s arrival so he could talk to the northerner and make him understand that the Lannisters didn´t have anything to do with Arryn´s death.

“Brother” Kevan entered to the room in that moment. “Genna had sent a raven. Apparently, there are troubles back in Casterly Rock.”

His brother handled him the scroll so he could read. Apparently, there had been bandits in the Gold Road lately. He sighed, the City Watch of Lannisport or some of the Westerlands Knights should be the one taking care of this, but apparently they needed him to do everything for them. He wrote a short reply for his sister and handed it to his brother so whoever was in charge of the ravens now that Pycelle had been sent to the Wall delivered it. He was going to have to come back at a later date.

“Tywin, where are you going?”

“To visit the girl… Tyrion´s girl” he spat, not wanting to call the half-breed spawn of the Imp his granddaughter yet. Specially when the only time he actually saw her she couldn´t even see him to the eyes. “You got her a Septa, no?”

“Yes” Kevan answered, putting the scroll on his pocket. “I chose her myself, she reminded me a lot of the one we employed for Joy.”

“Good” if she was like the woman who was chosen to civilize Gerion´s bastard, then she should definitely work on Tyrion´s half-lowborn daughter. “I will go to see her at the mansion today and I want to see progress.”

“What?” the younger Lannister didn´t understand.

“I´m going to take the girl back with us to Casterly Rock, so I want her to at least know how to correctly hold a fork and knife in dinner” Tywin announced. “Her Septa is also going to come, of course, to continue with his education.”

Kevan thought that it was probably a loss of time, as Lanna could simply join Joy´s lessons. The little girl would surely love to have a cousin sharing them with her, someone easy to befriend. Tywin, on the other side, believed that Lanna was as lost a cause as her father and wouldn´t be losing his time or effort in her were she not a Lannister. But her behavior was shameful for a noble, let alone for a member of such a Great House. That was why he decided to employ a Septa specially for her, the girl was going to need a teacher that could focus entirely on her if she was going to actually going to be of some use to Tywin.

The Lannister Lord said goodbye to his brother and left the Red Keep to go himself to the mansion the Lannisters had in King´s Landing. It was a big building, full of statues of Lions and tapestries depicting the battles different members of House Lannister had won, Myrish rugs and other expensive commodities. He crossed them without paying attention. He entered one of the side rooms and he found Lanna there, the Septa practically hovering over her. She was dressed in a way that Genna had favored as a young maiden, hunching over her horrible embroidery. The grey clad woman didn´t seem happy at all with her progress, but she at least managed to make the girl look presentable, so it was something.

“Lord Lannister!! I didn´t know you were going to visit us today!!” the woman bowed, then sent a glare to her charge, who hasn´t moved. “Lady Lanna, are you not going to greet your Lord Grandfather?”

“Gree… greetings, grandfather” the girl managed to say, making a clumsy curtsy. She trembled and was about to fall, but at least she managed. That was an improvement in Tywin´s book.

“I see that she is practicing her embroidery… even if my seven years old niece is already better than her.”

His granddaughter trembled more. She hadn´t made a lot of embroidery in her life, her mother and her living in poverty in Braavos until suddenly money started to arrive one day. The only sewing she had done was to mend crude clothes, so how was she supposed to make such a beautiful, delicate work? They had told her that the man that sent the money was her father, but why would his father suddenly care? And even if he did, he brought that cold man into their lives, the man that separated her from her mother and brought her away from everything she knew… and she was terrified, specially of the man…

“Let´s talk in private, Septa…”

“Unna, my lord, Septa Unna” she answered, nodding with her head before addressing her charge. “Lady Lanna, please continue with your embroidery. We will then start the lesson about table manners and I hope you have gotten better from yesterday.”

The girl nodded, not wanting to repeat what happened yesterday. The Septa had not been amused at all with her less than stellar table manners and had punished her harshly when she failed to meet the standards. Mentally, the girl tried to remember everything the woman had taught her, so she didn´t screw up. As Lanna was doing that, Tywin was receiving the complains of the septa. The Gods sworn woman told him that she had never seen such an unladylike Lady. Lord Lannister simply nodded all the time. It didn´t surprise him really, the daughter of his dwarf son hadn´t been raised well until then. No matter, the Septa would see that it was corrected now.

“She didn´t seem to have any manners at all, Lord Lannister” Septa Unna finally finished. “What was her mother doing instead of raising her daughter?”

“Her own mother wasn´t that well educated either. Tyrion didn´t manage to attract a good wife, you certainly know why” Tywin answered, his eyes sharpening. The Septa seemed to catch the thread. “My youngest son has quite the reputation.”

“Ye… yes, I know. But… perhaps if you tell me or let me talk to her mother´s family…” the whore´s family? He didn´t even know where they were. Probably in some decaying farm in the Westerlands, if she had any. Not that he was going to tell the woman.

“Septa…”

“Lord Tywin, you have a message from the Red Keep” Sandor Clegane informed him. Tywin raised an eyebrow, but took that opportunity to get away from the Septa. Not for the first time, he wondered why Tyrion had insisted that Prince Joffrey´s sworn shield remained in King´s Landing with his father, but he didn´t really care. Without Sandor, more Kingsguard accompanied the Royal Family, making it a more imposing view.

“What is it?” he asked when they entered a private room.

“Nothing, I needed to get you out of there, my lord” the Hound said, crossing his arms. “You looked like in need of rescue.” Tywin was about to say something, when the knight continued. “I know who your son´s wife was and what happened to her. I know that you want to keep it a secret too, so I want to offer my help.”

“Why would I need your help?”

“Because, even if the Septa drops it, if you show up in the Westerlands with a new granddaughter by Tyrion, you will have to offer some explanations. Of course, you can simply keep quiet, but the rumors will run rampant” and that is not convenient, Tywin knew. Rumors can easily run and become outrageous histories that might reach his enemies. He can surely quiet them down with fear, but who knows who might know by then. “I want to offer my family´s services on that.”

The Lord Paramount of the Westerlands didn´t understand for a moment, but then he caught the meaning of those words. Clegane was offering to pass the whore as a member of his family. And, while a landed knight´s daughter was too low a match for a Lannister, it was better than a whore or a crofter´s daughter. Besides, it was known that there were a lot of reluctant maidens that would offer their daughters to Tyrion and even less maidens that wanted to even see him thanks to his repulsive appearance. Of course, there were some parents that offered their daughters to his dwarf son for the Lannister gold, like Sybell Westerling. It wouldn´t be far fetched for a landed knight´s daughter to sleep with Tyrion or even marry him for gold… yes, that wasn´t that bad of an idea.

“Everyone knows your sister died” Tywin said.

“One sister died, the other lived, they were twins… or something like that” Sandor answered. “No one really knows much about my family and are too scared to ask me or Gregor… and Gregor won´t say anything if you buy him, like you always do. I won´t either.”

“We have an agreement, then” the Lannister Lord sealed the deal, then got out of the room. “I´m sorry, Septa, but I had something to do. What were you saying?”

“I wanted to talk to Lady Lanna´s maternal kin so…”

“Yes, that” Tywin coldly said, staring at the woman. “Well, I coincidentally brought my granddaughter´s uncle with me. Ser Sandor, the septa wants to talk to you about your sister” the woman blanched when the Hound entered to the stance. “I will leave you to talk alone about… Tysha”

“Right, Tysha” what a coincidence, Sandor thought, his sister´s name was Tyshara Clegane.

“There… there is no need, I… it´s fine”

“If you want to talk to the head of the family directly, I can arrange a meeting with Ser Gregor Clegane when we return to the Westerlands” Tywin offered, terrifying the woman even more. This should really stop any rumors in the bloom. “Ser Sandor, you can go see your niece if you want now.”

It took only a few words with Lanna to get her to follow the history. Surprisingly, the girl seemed less terrified of her supposed uncle than she was her grandfather. In fact, she ended up offering a timid smile to the Hound before they left. Tywin, for his part, ordered the Septa to prepare everything to go the Westerlands. The woman seemed to bright up when she heard she would be living in Casterly Rock for the near future to continue Lanna´s education. They dinned together, Tywin, Lanna and the Septa, and the Lannister Lord could address how much his granddaughter have progressed. At least she seemed less like a peasant now that she was actually sitting well and using her fork correctly.

A week later, the Lannister party departed from King´s Landing for Casterly Rock. Lady Lanna Lannister rode on a small carriage along with her septa at the back of the party while the Lord of Casterly Rock was at the front along with his squire and his brother, Ser Kevan Lannister. They managed to arrive to the Rock without incidents. Tywin then formed a party to go deal with his bandit problem. They managed to find the bandit´s lair with ease, but the outlaws were expecting them. The Old Lion fell into an ambush, but managed to get the upper hand again and dealt with the unwashed men. As he was cutting down one of them, he heard a cry of pain from a nearby tree. An archer, pointing to him directly, now had an arrow in his leg. As he tried to nock the arrow again, Kevan felled him with his own arrow. Tywin lowered his gaze to his squire, Tywin Frey, who had shot the first arrow.

“Cut their heads and put them on spikes, so everyone knows the consequences of banditry in the Westerlands” he ordered to his men before walked towards his grandnephew. “It´s the first time you shoot a man?”

“Yes, uncle… my Lord” the boy said, breathing deeply to calm himself down. “I… I didn´t kill him, I should have…”

“Practice your archery and you might hit your target in a vital point next time” he advised. “Take a drink and pack up, we are returning to the Rock.”

As they returned, Lord Lannister studied Tywin Frey for the first time. He was barely one-and-ten namedays of age, but he already showed more prowess than his poor excuse of a father. Ser Cleos Frey was of Lannister blood too, but he seemed to have inherited his brain from his father, Se Emmon Frey, who wasn´t exactly a bright mind. In fact, the man was a lackwit that Tywin could barely stand. And he whined all the time, asking for a Keep in the Westerlands. A prize the lackwit weasel didn´t deserve. But his grandson… Tywin Frey was another history. The boy definitely inherited his brains from Genna, from what he had seen, and even showed some martial prowess. Not the same as Jamie, but definitely more than Lancel and obviously more than Cleos at his age.

“Boy” Tywin called as his squire tried to leave the room after serving him some wine. “What you did today was brave.”

“Thank you, my Lord”

“Have you been doing well in your studies?”

“The maester says that I´m a fast learner”

To confirm this, the Lord started to ask him some questions. It turned out that his grandnephew was brighter than he thought. He would make a good Lord one day, definitely better than his father or grandfather had been. There were a few abandoned keeps in the Westerlands that could be granted to promising people, specially if they were kin, but he was reluctant to hand them to Emmon or Kevan, as Lancel was as stupid as Cersei. Willam and Martyn perhaps, they were smart too, but young. And granting something to Genna´s family would shut the Frey lackwit up, another boon.

“Has your grandmother talked to you about betrothals yet, nephew?” he suddenly asked.

“Wha… no, not yet” the Frey boy answered, flushed. “She wants to wait until I get my knighthood.”

Yes, that will work. A Keep could be a nice dowry for a Lannister bride too and it would give her groom a place to stuff his family. And the girl could do it worse. So could the boy. After all, a Frey, a young, Lannister blooded one, was nearly too good for a spawn of the Imp. So, once his grandnephew left for the night, Tywin took a paper to write a letter to Emmon. Genna would try to interfere if she were to know, her love for his stunted disgrace of a son well-known, but the weasely leech would have no problem with this. In fact, he was sure that his lackwit goodbrother would sell his grandson for much less. His sister should be glad he was even considering helping her favorite grandson and give him much more than he would get if things have been left to her useless husband.

-In Winterfell-

“I thought you would be here” Tyrion Lannister lifted his eyes from the book he was reading to see Jon Snow in front of him. If the spectacle last night hadn´t driven the point home, then the fan he had with him would. “Lord Hand”

“I´m not Hand anymore, just as you are not a Prince”

“I have always been a Prince. From a deposed House, but a Prince” the boy talked in a low voice as he sat down in front of the dwarf. He had to give it to him, he knew how to be elegant. Even more than Cersei ever was.

“Then a Regent or a Dowager”

“I will be glad if I never become one of those things again, Lord Hand” he said, before adding. “And let´s face it, you are going to stop at nothing to become Hand again.”

“You know me well”

“Too much to my taste” he made a brief expression of distaste. “But knowing your enemy is one of the fundamentals of war and one always have to make good use of the information he has. It´s something you yourself taught me.”

“Glad that someone learned the lessons I intended to teach him” the Lannister closed his book, putting it away. It was a good reading for the occasion, one of the few tomes about the Long Night the Starks possessed in their library. He had taken the opportunity to take notes from it and all the others while in Winterfell, just to prepare. “My deranged nephew certainly never did.”

“I suppose you are going to dispose of him quickly this time.”

“How dare you…”

“Am I wrong? It would not be the first time you have disposed of your brother´s bastard offspring. Even so, I have to admit that you were much gentler with the one you dealt with than the Martells or the Tyrells. Her name was… Jocelyn, no?”

“I never did anything to that brat.”

“Oh, but that´s just a lie. You robbed her from her birthright as the firstborn male´s heir to put your own children there” Jon smirked with superiority as Tyrion seethed. It hadn´t been that way and he always made sure Jocelyn had everything she needed. Even she seemed to appreciate that. “I should have considered myself warned that someone that threats their family that way wouldn´t threat those of others well either.”

The smallest Lannister was without words. He wanted to talk about THAT between all things? But, at the same time, he thought it was coming in some way. What he had helped Brandon do to the Saeragyon boy in Storm´s End was… even he felt the need to go to the Sept and pray for forgiveness after that. And when he heard about what the boy had done once he was returned to his family… well, war was inevitable from then on. He made his best to avoid it with diplomacy, but by then the dragonlords were too enraged and decided to show it by burning their way through Westeros.

“I´m not going to deny my involvement in the… incident that sparkled the war, but you have to understand what a King with the abilities Brandon had…”

“It´s refreshing to hear a true finally exiting from your mouth, my Lord, but I´m not talking about that” he approached more. “I´m talking about the incident in which you attacked my family as well as double cross my Stark cousins.”

THAT?! But THAT didn´t even work!! Tyrion felt his palms starting sweating. It had been scary enough when Brandon approached him and politely told him that if he tried to betray him again, he would wish his father had sent him to the Wall after Joffrey was killed, that the Kingdom was his and no one more. As if he needed more proof that the Three Eyed Raven planned to perpetuate himself on power, jumping from body to body as he ruthlessly ruled with an iron fist. Of course, he had been brought to heel, better to be on the Great Other´s side than in his way, he learned that well during the Long Night despite their unexpected victory, but he has to tell that his other plan had it´s merits. With Brandon unable to father children and Sansa stubbornly refusing to marry, Arya the Gods know where, House Stark was on the brink of extinction and it´s only member willing to bring children into the world to continue the line, ironically, was the former bastard on the other side of the Sea. And, whatever the Raven or Sansa said, they needed an heir. One that would integrate the North back into the Seven Kingdoms, ideally. So he took things into his own hands… unfortunately, the target he had in his mind had other ideas. He ended up not only cursing his King, but the all the bloody dragonesses the bastard and his sons had squirted into their wives´ bellies. They were all surely more vicious than their male counterparts.

“I see that you finally remember, Lord Hand” Jon´s eyes had a cold fury that Tyrion would compare with that of an Other. “And I had to make sure you knew that… I´m going to settle this once and for all. A daughter for a daughter.”

“She wasn´t your daughter, but your granddaughter”

“My son isn´t here to defend her honor, so it falls to me to do it in his place” he got up. “Remember, Lord Tyrion, a daughter for a daughter. And vengeance is already on the way.”

Jon Snow left the Library as he had entered, without making a sound. His equally silent direwolf trailed after him as a white shadow. The Lannister continue to sit there, growling to himself. In his humble opinion, that girl didn´t need anyone to defend her honor, not after what she had done to Lannisport and Casterly Rock. Daenerys would have been proud of her. She didn´t get the notoriety of her aunt, the one nicknamed ironically as the Nightmare, but she did get the epithet of the Burner as a reference to Theon Stark, both for her heritage, her looks and her burning the entire Lannister Fleet to cinders with her dragon.
But that didn´t matter. What did was that… Tyrion was seething. The little bastard had clearly threatened his daughter, his little girl, the apple of his eyes. He might have lost a lot about Lanna´s life, but he would never let something happen to her. Back in the future, everybody knew that no one messed with Tyrion Lannister´s little lioness, and the dragons were about to realize that too. He admitted that the Prince had come a long way from the honorable fool he was when they first met, all those years ago. He inwardly clapped at him for that. Jon Snow was dead, the Black Prince of Volantis had rose from his ashes. He congratulated the man back then for finally becoming a player instead of a piece, but now he was facing a master and he was to suffer the consequences, Tyrion thought as he grabbed the book and went to his own room to finish the reading. As he passed a window, he came across a strange sight. The night sky was glowing red. He stared at it not willing to believe it. The red bleeding star that everyone had given different meanings, but in reality could only mean one thing… dragons.

“She is back too” Tyrion said to himself, before shaking his head. She might be back, but she was defenseless. Her dragons were miniatures… and her husband would never reach her. He already had something in mind to get rid of him. And once Jorah Mormont, who he had bribed, captured her and brought her and her animals to Casterly Rock, Valyrian Steel could be produced. They were going to win this…

On his own room, Jon watched the bleeding star from his window. It brought a delicious shiver to his body. She was finally there, alive and in reach. He already wanted to meet her again, his Danny. How much time missing her? Raising their children alone and wishing she was there by his side, seeing how strong and beautiful they had become? Just to play, he extended his hand towards the flame. The first time he did this, it hurt and burned him. There was no magic in the world, so saving the Old Bear had left him scars and pain. But now… he chuckled as he grabbed one of the firewood in his hearth. His hand continued as ever, not burning… and again, he could feel the pull deep on his mind, a pull that told him he had to go somewhere before reuniting with his wife…

“The Lord Hand definitely must have plans for us now, Ghost” he said, leaving the wood in it´s place again and petting his wolf with the other. “This is about to turn interesting, no? and he certainly forgot that you never show all your cards before you are sure. How long do you think until he realized that he had focused so much in me that he ignored everything else?”

Chapter Text

When Jon Snow walked into his room, the least he was expecting was Ghost to start growling as if there was a treat in there. He caressed the direwolf´s fur, searching for anything that was out of place. He found out in a few seconds. Someone had left a small pouch. The boy walked up to it and opened it, emptying it in a hand. Rubies shone in front of his eyes. Rubies… in his former life, he had worn rubies quite often. Enough to make them a signature, if they weren´t already one of House Targaryen. The Prince examined them and then the satchel with an inquisitive eye and he noticed the embroidery. Only two letters, R.T neatly embroidered in the satchel. Rhaegar Targaryen… blood rubies?

Not many people knew it, but his favorite hair pins in his former life were made from rubies of the Ruby Ford. They had been a surprise gift from the Silent Island. He had been really strange when it had been announced to him that the Eldest Brother himself had travelled from Westeros to Volantis. The man respectfully had bowed to him, who was suspicious at the moment, before he presented him with the six rubies that had been recovered from Rhaegar Targaryen´s armor, the ones that washed up in the Island. And when he asked him why, the former knight said he was a man of honor and honor dictated that he must return the possessions of the dead to the deceased´s heir. He didn´t believe it at first, but after a few chats he understood that the man meant it. It made it sadder when, a few months later, the news of the massive executions at Silent Island arrived. Killed because he did the right thing, such a usual thing in this wretched world… if only Tyrion had the same meaning to his gift that the elder brother.

“It seems I will have some new pins when these ends. Or perhaps I should make a bracelet for my dear wife with them. What do you think, boy?” Jon caressed his direwolf. “Shhhh, boy. I know the mean little man is planning something… too bad he is like three steps behind, no?”

The next morning, when he arrived, all the eyes were staring at him. Whatever Tyrion Lannister planned, it was already put into effect. No worries, he already had several countermeasures in place. Whispers followed his wake as he crossed the hallways, several of the servants pointing at him. The southern ones were exceptionally rude… what had the Lord Hand planned for him? He entered the main hall, his direwolf on tow, only to find a dramatic scene. It was so badly staged that he wondered for a second who Tyrion thought he was deceiving. As if Cersei Lannister would ever hug a crying girl, a handmaiden she had brought from the south, without a twisted reason.

“There he is!! The rapist!! Seize him!!” the Queen screamed. Jon was shaken for a moment, but didn´t let that show. So this was the message Tyrion was trying to send. That he would end up just like his father, branded a rapist and ultimately dead… how predictable.

“And why” he stated, very calm. “do you think I was the one that touched the girl?”

“Who else would?!” the woman said. Lady Catelyn nodded, already believing it just because he was a bastard. Or was it because she wanted to get rid of him? “Only a bastard would dare to land his hands on a girl with such violence!!”

“I can say the names of several trueborn men that could” he answered, raising an eyebrow. “Besides, I stayed in my room the whole night. How could I have attacked the Lady if I was there?”

“Lady Sansa already told us that she saw you exiting your room in the middle of the night. You are lying, bastard.”

Eddard sputtered and Robb looked at his sister in disbelief. Arya only froze, the knife in her hand clinking as it fall on the table. Obviously they weren´t into it. Woow, Sansa hadn´t even waited to arrive to King´s Landing to betray a family member. He could tell she had planned this with Tyrion or at least accepted to help him, her haughty attitude said everything. Without telling her family. Brandon might have helped, but nothing would tell him. He would just remain there, staring as emotionless as ever. Oh yes, he could see all of that… and how this was going to end by how Robert Baratheon was looking at him. Was he finally seeing his true father in his face? No, he would have been dead already if he did, but he reminded him of Rhaegar because of this situation…

“I see” he crossed his arms. So this is what they were playing at. “Everything said and done, I can only say one thing: I didn´t do it. I have barely seen that girl in all the time she has been here and I can definitely say that she is not my type” of course, his type was much closer to home, his true home. “Whoever accused me will have to know that they are condemning an innocent man.”

“Boy, you are talking as if you don´t believe in my justice” Robert finally said.

“About that, your Grace, I don´t have any faith in justice. And it´s nothing against you, it´s just how the world works” Jon added. “Sometimes, the name of a man is enough to condemn or free him from guilt for much less than the words of a girl. And bastards like me got used to that unfairness really soon. I´m condemned just by bearing that name, there is nothing more to talk” he turned around. “I already know where the dungeons are, I will go there by myself. There is no need to escort me, not that it would be any good. You know where to find me when you have decided what to do with me.”

Jon Snow bowed to the King and Queen with all the elegance that was expected from a Prince of the Blood. Lady Catelyn actually glared at him as he walked out of the Main Hall. Jory went after him at a respectful distance, allowed him and Ghost to enter one of the cells and then secured it. The captain of guard actually apologized for this. He surely believed the boy, he had known him all his life and knew that he was incapable of something like that, but there wasn´t much he could do. Jon simply told Jory that it was something that happened all the time when bastards were accused by trueborns. Cassel apologized again and told him that Lord Stark would get him out. He simply smiled. His uncle wouldn´t do anything for him. This was a solution for him, it would send Jon straight to the Wall, condemned this time. He wouldn´t have any other option… at least in his view. This was confirmed when Lord Stark visited him in his cells a few hours later.

“I was expecting you”

“I´m sure you were” Eddard said, standing straight in front of his son. Because that was what he was, his son. “Robert has come to a decision. The Queen wanted to have you executed for defiling a noble lady, but the King said that he didn´t believe a son of mine would… That Sansa could have dreamed that or…”

“Excuses, I know. I could have gone anywhere, had I truly left my room in that night” he completed. “But they can´t dismiss the accusations of a trueborn Lady like that, the nobles would protest. So… what is going to happen to me? The crotch or the Watch?”

“The Watch. And you don´t have any other option…”

“Must be feeling so relieved then, your plans are going so well.”

“Jon…” Eddard tried to explain himself.

“Oh, please, don´t try to cover it up. You probably were so relieved when the King said that I was to join the Night´s Watch, as if it was a true sentence and not something criminals use to escape sentences… after all, it would free you from your treason.”

“Jon, I…”

“It must have scared you, to see my transformation. You probably thought that it would expose your dirty little secret” he smirked, the fire on his eyes the same as a very hungry dragon. “Tell me, does it scare you, my lord? To see him in me? To know that he lives in me?” he advanced towards the bars of the cell and lowered his voice to a whisper. “I know your dirty little secret.”

Eddard took a few steps back as if he had been burned before turning around and escaping as fast as he could. Jon sat back in the darkness. He had imagined this little scene for a long time, thinking of all the ways that he could tell his uncle that he knew. He had imagined it while he was freezing beyond the wall, in those years without Daenerys that he spent completely alone in a bad place, when he lost her and was forced to become someone else to keep what he still had, when he was an old man… and when he came back and saw him alive again. He chuckled to himself as he sat down on the stone floor, extending his arm to caress Ghost.

“That was even better than I had imagined, boy” he scratched his direwolf´s ears. “How long are you going to stay there in the darkness?”

“You knew I was here?” Robb said, exiting from behind a column. “Jon, what did you say to father? He seemed… scared for some reason…”

“He had reasons to be” the Targaryen continued showering his wolf with attention. “Are you not going to ask me if I did it or not?” he stared at his cousin directly. “If the accusations your sister flung my way are true?”

“I know you, you are incapable of…”

“How cute, you still believe that you know me” Jon laughed to himself. It was just so… hilarious. For Robb to be so naïve that he believed that he still knew him, that he was still the boy that escaped a brothel when he bought him Ros… “You know, this is exactly the kind of thing that got you killed. Thinking the best of others… it bites you in the ass sooner than later. Like when you thought Bolton and Frey were honorable and got yourself and the northern lords killed.”

“You aren´t talking seriously” Robb said. “Jon, you are my brother. We grew up together…”

“That was a long time ago for me.”

“And you think that for me not?” the redhead crossed his arms. “Jon, I spent years in that war without seeing you or anyone in the family that was not mother or my uncles. I… I believed Bran and Rickon were dead. And you… you were practically the only sibling I still had and you are acting as if we are nothing but strangers…”

“And it never crossed your mind that perhaps we are?” the boy raised an eyebrow. “Robb, you knew me when I was still a boy, but the man I became after… you don´t know him at all. Or me.”

“Why are you doing this, Jon? Why do you have to say those things to me?”

“Because you need to wake up to reality” Jon finally got up again and faced Robb. He didn´t know why he was doing this, he was a Stark, but… he and Rickon were the only ones whose sweet childhood memories was not tainted by their betrayal. He somehow still feel something for them. “People lie and betray, and even when you think you knew them, realize that they change. Be careful who you trust, Robb.”

“Are you saying this for the Red Wedding? Because I was not a good King in the North?”

“No, I´m telling this for your own good, Stark” he crossed his arms. “You choose if you believe me or not, soon I´m not going to be here and what happens to your family is no longer going to be my problem.”

“You are talking as if they are not your family too”

“Have you seen what happened there? Or in here? Then you got the answer.”

Robb turned around and left the dungeons. Jon sat down again, caressing Ghost. The direwolf just stared at him, his deep red eyes silently judging him. And perhaps he should. He had detached himself from the Starks long ago, even the ones that died too early to betray him. Robb was just a childhood memory long since forgotten, a sweet summer dream that had long since ended. He didn´t have any lingering attachment to any of them… so why was he using though love with Robb of all people? He was someone he used to know, so why… Robb must remind him of his sons, there is no other explanation.

“I need to though myself up more, I can´t keep thinking about them as if they were my children” he sighed. “They are my enemies now.”

-In another place-

Robb was walking through the corridors of the Winterfell, trying to make sense of what he had woken up to after his death. He thought that this was a sweet dream, a gift from the Gods, but it had been nothing but a nightmare. His family had been broken to pieces, his siblings fighting amongst each other and he in the middle, not knowing what else to do. He didn´t know what to do and, while hitting Theon in the training yard had become a good outlet for his feelings, he had the need to do something. Specially with Jon, he was the one that worried him the most. He had changed so much… they used to be like twins and now… now it was almost as if he didn´t know him at all…

“… you should have made sure that he was taken out of the equation. You said that you would at least make Robert geld him” Sansa´s voice, struggling to stay low, arrived to his ears. Robb peeked around the corner and found his sister, Bran and Tyrion Lannister glaring at each other. “But, like with the Targaryen girl, you couldn´t do anything right.”

“Excuse me for not having control over the actions of a drunkhard. Or of your father, who asked him to be sent to the Watch and not cut. You said that you had him in hand.”

“I just… never thought that he would try to banish him again, not with whom he is now” the redheaded woman crossed her arms. “What really bothers me is the easiness he allowed himself to be banished. As if he had planned it…”

“Me too” Brandon finally talked, his tone as emotionless as before. “That´s why it´s going to be your job to follow him there and making sure he return.”

“I have seen enough of the Wall for a thousand lifetimes and my only interest in it is that it keeps standing, guarded, and sheltering us from the Long Night so I can have a really long life” Lannister stated, frowning. “I won´t be returning.”

“I was not asking” Brandon said. The Little Lion stared at him before bowing defeat. “Make sure it isn´t traceable to us.”

“Alright”

“And…” the sound of a bird landing distracted Robb. It was a raven. “I´m sorry, sister, my Lord, but our conversation is not private any longer. Let´s reconvene at another time.”

Robb froze when he heard his little brother say those words. He hadn´t made a move, anything that would tell Bran that he was listening. The only thing that changed was that the damn raven landed near him… Brandon was in front of him in that moment, his deep stare practically drowning him. Since he came back, his little brother scared him. It was something that shouldn´t happen, specially to an older brother as dedicated as him, but…

“I know that this must be difficult to understand for you, Robb” the boy said in a patronizing way. “But everything we are doing, we are doing for the sake of House Stark.”

“That is how you call it? Giving false testimony? Blaming an innocent man and conspiring against him? Against your own brother?” he asked, glaring at him. “Father didn´t raise us like that, he didn´t raise us to…”

“He raised us to protect ourselves and each other, you should know that better than me” the Raven continued. “When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies but the pack survives. Isn´t that what he always said?”

“Jon is part of that pack”

“Jon Snow is a dangerous madman, Robb, that´s why we are erasing him from the equation” he refused to believe it. “You don´t believe me? You haven´t seen him in years and would trust him more than me?” Being fair, Robb haven´t seen BRAN himself in years either and he was trying to trust all of his brothers. “You don´t believe me? Come with me to the Godswood and I will show you.”

They walked together to the Godswood. Brandon looked really serious, as if he was in some sort of mission. Robb didn´t know what he was expecting to do or how he could show him something. He had heard from Sansa and Arya about his supposed powers, even from Theon, but he hadn´t really believed in them… until they reached the Heart Tree. There, Bran´s eyes turned really dark and he suddenly was… pulled into something. Something dark and with a texture like feathers, with dark wings like a death omen. And then he was suddenly outside of Winterfell´s walls, standing in the middle of a military camp with soldiers on strange armors on siege formation. Sieging his ancient home. He wanted to scream at them, to fight the invaders, but his fists only went through them.

“We are not really here” Bran told him after a few moments. “This is only a vision of what happened, or it´s going to happen from our current perspective.”

“Where are we?”

“Outside of Winterfell, when Sansa was still Queen and the armies of Volantis, First daughter of Valyria, invaded the Seven Kingdoms in the name of House Targaryen.”

“House Targaryen? They… they came back?”

“Yes” someone crossed in their path, armed with spear and shield. His bronze skin seemed out of place in the North, but he showed little uncomfortableness in the snow. “That´s the Master of War of the Targaryen Small Council or, as they liked to call it, Flame of Vhagar, Grey Worm of the Unsullied.”

“The slave warriors?”

“It´s a way to put it… at least before Daenerys Targaryen banned slavery from her new domain.”

So… the Targaryen girl wasn´t as mad as her father, eh? Good for her, specially if she was going to get rid of slavery in Essos. He could make his peace with the Targaryens having a new throne to themselves… if they hadn´t dared to invade his home. Were they doing this to every House that participated in the Rebellion or only the main ones? He wondered that and much more as he and Bran followed Grey Worm through the camp towards a big tent that surely belonged to Daenerys Targaryen. Much to his surprise, who exited from the tent wasn´t an old woman, but a man of approximately his father´s age with silver hair and purple eyes.

“Your Imperial Grace” Grey Worm kneeled in front of him. “We are ready for an attack at any moment. We only need your orders.”

“Are you sure there is no response from the castle?” the man, the Targaryen, asked, dubious. “We have given them plenty of opportunities to surrender, surely they are going to take it. No one would be stupid enough to believe that they could stand long against our forces. And I would like to avoid much damage to the castle, it is… important.”

“Your Imperial…”

“You should forget about that, Rhaegar” another voice joined the conversation from inside the tent. An old man emerged, wearing his hair much like the Targaryen, except for the ruby hairpins he had in his braids. “She is not going to give up.”

“Like I said, no one would be stupid…”

“This one certainly is” he answering, cutting his king. He nearly expected to see him beheaded at the moment by the man he supposed was Daenerys Targaryen´s son, but he only earned a tense bow. “And if there is no answer from the inside, it means that they feared their Queen more than they do us or are eager to die defending her out of loyalty.”

“Both are idiotic things, my Prince” The Unsullied said. “Then we should prepare the attack.”

“Do it, use whatever you need to bring them down once and for all”

“Are you sure?” the younger man, Rhaegar, asked. “This was once your home, after all. Think of all the memories you will lose alongside it if we were to…”

“It is no my home anymore” the man said, his eyes glistening in a dark way. Robb´s mouth opened when he finally recognized him. It was Jon. “And I was never one of them” Jon made a sign. “Prepare the attack. I want to see Winterfell taken and House Stark brought low.”

The heir to Winterfell was frozen to his spot at the scene and remained frozen in it even after Bran left the Godswood after the vision finished. He could barely believe it. Jon… his brother Jon had joined the Targaryens. Joined the Targaryens and betrayed them. He simply couldn´t believe it. Between all the people… but he hadn´t expected that from Theon either and he had gone and betrayed them… from his part, Brandon smirked. He was sure that he convinced Robb to be on their side. It would make it so much easier to get rid of him when the time arrived. The Raven sent a last look to the Weirwood, a daring one.

“I know you didn´t want ME to be here instead of young Brandon” he said. “But I´m here to stay. Try to stop me if you can.”

-In another place-

Unbeknownst to both Starks, Robb had not been the only disappointed older brother to hear a younger sibling in that reunion. Jamie Lannister had been on the other side of the small seating room, listening to the conversation. Only that he was well aware of Brandon´s powers and managed to evade any raven. So, when Tyrion and Sansa left the place in different corridors, he was ready to get in his little brother´s way.

“Let me guess, you heard what we were talking about, me and the Starks” the younger Lannister crossed his arms. “Jamie, I know the Targaryen children, his siblings, were important to you, but you don´t know the kind of person he became after you died. Or Daenerys Targaryen…”

“So what? You simply declare them guilty and execute them? Besides, how did I know you are not simply lying to become powerful again?”

“And who truly raised me to power, brother?” Tyrion raised an eyebrow. “Yes, I was Brandon´s Hand too, but Daenerys Targaryen was most important monarch... at least before she turned as insane as her father and burned King´s Landing to the ground.”

“Again, how do I know that you are telling the truth?”

“You don´t trust me, brother?”

“No!! You are always lying! It´s almost like speaking with father sometimes, dammit. In fact, speaking with Father is easier this times than speaking to you!!”

“Oh, so that´s what we have” the dwarf stated, looking truly hurt. “I don´t know what hurts me more, brother, that you don´t trust me or that you compare me to our Lord Father.” Frankly, it was a reasonable thing to do, considering everything Tyrion had done. Some people would actually say that he was the smaller, younger version of the Old Lion himself. Anyway, it had hurt, so it was time to return the blow. “Or maybe it´s the fact that you would side with a madwoman as Daenerys Targaryen or her wretched husband, Jon “the Burner” Snow, over your own family.”

“Tyrion…”

“According to you, what should I have done, Jamie? Let them burn half of Westeros to cinders with their dragons? Allow Jon Snow his revenge and sacrificing entire cities to his wrath?” the Littlest Lannister continued. “Because they are going to come sooner or later. What should I do then? Against the likes of the Nightmare or the Blue Dread? That last one reduced Casterly Rock to a pile of molten rock, you know. You want to live that?”

“Tyrion…”

“That´s what House Targaryen is, Jamie, Fire and Blood. And I´m not going to let them raise from their ashes.”

“Brother…”

“You are going to have to choose, Jamie. Are you with us, with Westeros and your family or with the Targaryens?”

Tyrion left him, knowing that his brother was in an internal turmoil, satisfied that he won´t try to sabotage his plans. Of course, he had to leave out a few details of his past actions out, but it was okay. He didn´t mean to repeat past mistakes, he will eliminate the threat before it turns serious. And when he got rid of Jon Snow, Daenerys Targaryen´s fall was going to be a thing of time. He couldn´t help but think that the wretched boy was planning something, but what could he do? He only had his direwolf and he was taking enough men to deal with the beast if needed. And after that, the Long Night will fall to wildfire. He was not going to lose this time.

For his part, Jamie Lannister was confused. Daenerys Targaryen seemed stable the last time he had seen her. He had only wanted to defeat her because he loved Cersei, which he no longer did, and he learned to appreciate the Dragon Queen during the Long Night. He had committed a mistake by returning to his sister… and by trusting Tyrion before. And he couldn´t believe what his brother was saying about the Last Targaryens. They weren´t like that… no? Perhaps he should seek a better judge of character.

“Ser Jamie, do you need something?” the maester asked when he entered his turret.

“Yes, I need to send a raven to Tarth”

Chapter Text

When Robb returned to the dungeons, it didn´t surprise Jon at all. Nor that Bran had showed him something to put the Stark heir against him or at least cause a misunderstanding between them. No, what surprised him was that Robb had seen Rhaegar. He almost asked him how he looked, how he… sounded. He remembered his little boy, all of his babies and his babies´ babies in reality, but… the last time he had seen some of them, they were so scared or walking corpses. Or, in his last baby´s case, little corpses with blood stains in their swaddling clothes. Which was a sign no father wanted to remember. He almost wished he had been there with Brandon, so he could remember how his little boy looked when he wasn´t either of them. Or better, how all of his babies were during the good old times. Before… everything.

“Why did you do it?” Robb asked, bringing him out of his thoughts. “I want to believe that I know you enough to know that my mother is wrong about you, but… am I wrong? Do you want Winterfell so much that you would side with the Targaryens to steal it?” what a stupid thing to ask. “Answer me, Jon!!”

“Your mother is a paranoid bitch… and I don´t want your frigid little castle” he said, crossing his arms. “It hadn´t been my home in a long time, won´t be ever again.”

“This is your home, Jon, and we are your family. Not House Targaryen.”

“Ha!” he smirked. “You haven´t talked to your family yet, no?” Robb was surprised by that question. “You wouldn´t be saying that if you had.”

“What should I ask him, brother?”

“Whatever you need… hasn´t he ever answered your questions with the truth? Isn´t he the sincerest man you know?” he huffed. “And don´t call me brother, we aren´t brothers.”

“Jon…”

“If you haven´t noticed, Stark, we are enemies now. Like it or not, we are on different sides now and you and Rickon better get used to that”

“Is this all because of the Targaryens? What did the girl or her son do to buy your loyalty?”

“They didn´t have to, all the knives on my back your family gave me were enough to show me who I can trust in” What? What had Sansa and Bran done? “Next time we see each other, just pray we don´t meet in the battlefield. You are going to lament it if you do, Stark.”

Robb tried to make sense of what was happening in his head. It was just… how could his family have destroyed itself so much in his absence? Was this his fault? For dying before he could reunite them, save them? Why did this have to happen? While he mentally beat himself and blamed himself over and over again for that, Jon continued caressing his direwolf. Tomorrow, he was going to set off with the King´s party and then go to the Wall with Benjen Stark and other recruits. Benjen had been down here to explain him everything and to tell him how sorry he was because of what had happened. The man had apparently had a big fight with his brother… Lady Stark had to call Ser Rodrik to grab Benjen before he could assault the new Hand of the King. It made his day for a bit. But even so, his uncle was going to take him to the Wall. Him and Tyrion Lannister.

“I thought that you had had enough of the Wall for two lifetimes, Lord Hand” he commented when he saw the Imp and his guards behind him and the Ranger. “Are you going to accompany me? How nice of you.”

“Yes, I´m so nice” the dwarf answered, his voice filled with sarcasm. Neither man believed the other in the slightest, but tacitly agreed to keep the charade while they were being seen. “So are my guards, that are going to make sure you arrive to your destiny, your Imperial Highness.”

“Charming”

Of course, his willingness to follow his uncle to his punishment, even without a rope or a chain pulling him, gave Tyrion suspicions. The prideful Prince Regent of the new Valyrian Empire, the one called the Burner, giving up so easily and letting go of his power to spend the rest of his life in a freezing penal colony where he had been murdered before? Without as much as an attempt to reach his wife? No, he wasn´t seeing it. Not even when they split from the King´s Party and started to head North. And the further they went, the more suspicious he was.

“You still believe that a mind needs to read lots of books to sharpen like a sword needs a whetstone?” Jon Snow asked as he sat down near the Lannister, taking a peek at the book he was currently holding. The Long Night, eh? Quite predictable. “I find experience to be more stimulating to sharpen a mind.”

“Are you particularly well read, your Imperial Highness?” Tyrion smirked. “Because last time we saw each other, you need another to do your reading for you.”

“I had a lot of time to read in my banishment, before I met my wife again” the bastard had the gal to answer, pushing his hair out of his face. “For a time, all I did was reading… it was a strange time, but I can´t say that I didn´t use everything I learned from those books.”

“And what did you read, your Highness?”

“What didn´t I read would be a better answer, my Lord of Lannister” he smirked. “Politics, history, myths, plays… but I have to confess my favorite was military history. Do you know that before the dragons, the Valyrian freehold used the terrain to ambush the Ghiscari slaver parties? The domain over the terrain can give you so much advantage…”

“What are you…”

Arrows started to rain over the party, confirming Tyrion´s suspicions. Benjen Stark and Yoren yelled about Wildlings… wildlings who answered to the King Beyond the Wall. Not the current one, or at least not truly. Not if they knew that Mance Rayder wouldn´t save them from the White Walkers. So they responded to his successor, the King Beyond the Wall that brought them to Volantis, to where they could be safe… Jon Snow. What if… one of his followers travelled back too? They could have mounted this…

“Lance!! Tomard!! Get him!! He is the one commanding this…”

“Oh, your guards aren´t here to save you now, Lord Tyrion” the bastard said, the two Lannister guards at his feet. How? He made some of his most loyal guards made sure that the Prince Regent didn´t have any weapons on himself. “The Targaryen family´s heritages are great, some so much that they opaque others. Like this precious Valyrian Steel Fans.”

“Valryain Steel…”

“Their history is quite enlightening. Apparently, there was a time where the Valyrian Imperial court prohibited to carry weapons in the presence of Royalty, so the Lords, mayor and minor, and their consorts had to become creative to conceal their means of protection. They forged all kind of harmless looking objects, with one lethal hidden surprise.”

“And I guess the Targaryens brought them all the way from Valyrian when they escaped from Dragonstone” Tyrion stalled, trying to reach his hidden weapon. He was quite proficient with crossbows since getting rid of his father the first time… it was the only weapon he really knew how to use. “It would sting the Martells even more to know that Rhaegar gave Lyanna those fans and not Elia. Sure you want to presume them to me?”

“Do you really think that would make them hate me more than they do your family?”

“Well said” the little Lannister´s hand finally reached the crossbow, but before he could draw it, a lance went through it. The dwarf turned around to see a blond tall woman in white skins, holding the lance that had gone in his way. “And well planned, my Prince. I was so worried about you that I didn´t search for your possible allies.”

“Lord Lannister” the woman saluted, smirking at her enemy.

“Lady Maegyr, a pleasure to see you again. Or should I say the Wildling Princess?”

Val didn´t answer, nor did Jon Snow. There was no need, as more wilding raiders came out of the woods and attacked the travelers. With all the disorder, the Flame of Meraxes and the Prince disappeared from Tyrion´s view. He cursed when, at the end of it, when the raiders were finished, there was no clue of them. He sent some of his guards with Yoren and Benjen Stark to search for the raiding party and the escaped prisoner. Nothing was found. Sansa was going to be a bitch to deal with when he return to King´s Landing, practically in synchrony with his sister… but they were not the real problem, no? The RAVEN was going to kill him if he knew that he had his cousin where they wanted him and lost him before finishing his mission.

In the middle of the woods, Jon Snow congratulated himself on a job well done. He had to prescind of Larence´s protection while at it, but it paid in the end. The boy had the advantage of being invisible to the Lords, so when he disappeared from Deepwood Motte, no one tell Lord Stark, so it was kept in secret from his enemies. And he reached the man who, between his flames, dominated the art of ambush to the point of making it an art. Also, the Lady that passed from not understanding kneelers, to the one that dominate politics to the point that helped the Valyrians to keep the former Tiger Party down. All of that without losing her true essence… or her skills in battle.

“My Prince”

“Toregg” he embraced the son of his old friend Tormund. They had become great friends even after the old Giantsbane´s death, so much that Toregg had become one of his flames in Tormund´s place. “How is Tormund? Is everyone alright?”

“For now, yes… but Mance doesn´t want to put back his first plan. And, being frank, me neither. The Walkers have been… restless, my Prince. They movements are also more aggressive and erratic, attacking villages without any sense” Toregg informed. “I´m afraid they know something have changed.”

“But is the army safe? Hardhome?”

“For now, but with everyone retreating, it´s going to the next place where they are going to hit.” The Flame of Tyraxes explained. “Jon, I´m afraid that… everything is going to happen much sooner than we expected.”

“Me too” Val said. “Whatever you are planning, you better hurry”

“Then we don´t have a moment to lose” the Prince´s face turned serious. “You know where to find dragonglass, use it. Meanwhile, I´m going to get the heavy weaponry. Wait for me, but also prepare for an evacuation… convince everyone you can that leaving with me is the correct answer. We can´t leave much behind for them to turn into a loyal soldier.”

“Jon, are you…” Larence also seemed worried.

“It´s the only plan I have for now. And it would be for the best if I reunite with our Queen and get all the boats I could for your transport. Remember, Hardhome” Jon instructed. “Larence, you come with me, I need someone to watch my…”

“You will need more than a boy to watch your back after this, Jon”

The four of them turned around to see Benjen Stark standing there. But there was something strange. Despite being in the presence of wildlings and a would-be deserter (could Jon be considered a deserter when he hadn´t even pronounced the vows in this life?), the ranger didn´t pull out his sword. In fact, he seemed to be acting as non-threatening as he could. As he approached his nephew, swords were drawn. He calmly raised his hands in surrender, staring directly at Jon.

“Please, I only want to talk.”

“I really doubt that” his family member answered, grasping his sharp as dagger fans in his hands, ready to protect himself in case it was needed. “What is it, Ranger Stark? Didn´t you agree with your family that my place is at the Wall?”

“You know that I don´t, Jon. And you also know that I don´t believe you did what the Lannisters accused you of doing. It was a great injustice and… if you really don´t want to be there at the Wall with me, Jon, I´m going to respect your wishes” Benjen approached even more. “You are free to go wherever you want.”

“Would you do that? Even knowing that I´m an enemy of your family…”

“It´s your family too”

“Not anymore. Not for a long time… and definitely not since your brother lied to be nearly all my life” there was a tense silence between them for a moment. And the boy realized it. “You knew.”

“I suspected it, but it doesn´t change anything” the night´s watchman talked again. “It doesn´t matter which of my siblings sired or bear you, boy, you are my nephew and the closest thing to a son I will ever have along with your cousins, so… I love you. And want the best for you.”

“That doesn´t seem the wish of the rest of your family?”

“Your family again?” Benjen finished his advance towards the youngster he now recognized as his beloved sister´s only child. “Do you want to know what I think?” Jon didn´t say anything. “That you are a person that has been betrayed so badly and so many times by his own blood that he didn´t trust them any longer, but underneath everything, you still love them. Or love the people you consider your family.”

“The Starks are not my family anymore” he said, as if trying to reassure himself. “Not after… you wouldn´t understand.”

“I can see the pain they have caused in your eyes… and I´m sorry” Jon froze as his uncle, his Stark uncle, embraced him. “And I really, really hope you find what you are looking for wherever you are going. Be it beyond the Wall or even further away.”

“Let me go…”

“Much luck, Jon, you are going to need it”

Benjen tightened his embrace once more before releasing his nephew, the only living thing that remained of his sister, and walked away. Ghost let him go, which meant that he didn´t mean to harm his owner… at least Jon believed so. The Prince frowned. He didn´t trust in the Starks, but… perhaps his uncle could be the exception, if Robb and Rickon weren´t yet. Anyway, he wasn´t giving him the benefit of the doubt just yet. To any of them.

“Larence, you come with me. Toregg, Val, make sure the most people survive, but don´t put yourselves in too much danger. I will return with ships as soon as I can.”

“Aye, my Prince”

“Your Higheness?” the knight said as he and the white direwolf followed Jon´s footsteps. “Where do we go now?”

“Where else?” the question was returned. “Skagos”

-In another place-

Eddard wasn´t feeling comfortable. And it wasn´t just because he was going to the place he had died in once, with the same people he had died surrounded by… and Robert. Robert who couldn´t stop talking about his whore, his wine, his hunting and the Targaryens. Not for the first time, he thanked the gods that Robert didn´t know about Jon and, even if he would know, the boy was going to be safe at the Wall, where his wrath couldn´t reach him. Just as it couldn´t reach Daenerys Targaryen.

“The girl seemed to have banished into thin air” Robert finally said after going through a list of the whores he had fucked when they were young at the Vale. HE, because all of them had been his. Ned had never had a woman before he got married. “And I thought it was poetic. House Targaryen, forged in fire, ended in fire… but the girl´s body never appeared.”

“Her corpse can still be lost” Ned really wanted to believe if they didn´t persecute him, the girl would just vanish. Just like the last Targaryens should have done after they lost the Rebellion. “Who said she wasn´t in a different zone of the house when the fire broke? She could have been in the wine cellar for all we know.”

“Varys had agents scour the house in it´s entirety. We have found the corpse of the magister, some of his servants, a few slaves and that fool Viserys, but nothing of the girl. Which means she could have survived.”

“Even if she did, she is just a girl” he said that for Robert as much as for himself. He wanted to believe that Daenerys was not yet a problem and without the magister and her Dothraki husband, she would never be. “And she is all alone in the street, without anyone to protect her. She will not last long”

“The entire Targaryen family shouldn´t have lasted long after the Rebellion, but Viserys and… what was the girl´s name?”

“Daenerys, Robert” the Hand answered. “Daenerys Targaryen”

“Yes, Daenerys. Her and Viserys survived despite being only children when they shouldn´t have. That´s how resilient those dragonspawn are” he clenched his fist. “I´m not going to stop until all of them are gone. I owe it to your sister.”

“Lyanna wouldn´t have wanted to have children murdered in her name. Come on, Robert, the Targaryens are gone and if they try something”

“No, she would have wanted me I avenge her. And her vengeance won´t be completed until all of them are gone from the world. Even the girl.”

Ned sighed and let it go. He would never be able to change Robert´s mind in that issue, which made him even more relieved that he had shrouded Jon in lies so he wasn´t involved in the Baratheon King´s dragon hunt. Another good new was that, without Sansa swooning over Joffrey and Arya playing with her peasant friend, there was no incident in the Trident and both his daughters´ direwolves arrived to King´s Landing alive. The bad news was that, with Sansa evading the Prince at every turn, both Cersei and Joffrey were on a bad mood. The morning after they left the Inn of the Crossroads, it all exploded.

“You were supposed to spend time with me!!” he yelled, grabbing Sansa roughly by the arm. Lady growled at the Prince and showed him her teeth. She looked ready to pounce on the little bastard, but Robert was faster.

“What do you think you are doing to a Lady, boy?!” he yelled as Ned addressed the damage done to his daughter. Joffrey had passed from rage to terror, looking ready to wet his breeches now that he was faced with the King´s wrath. “Ned, how is your girl?”

“Sweetheart, are you alright?” Lord Stark asked, examining Sansa´s arm. She made a show of how much it was hurting her. Not a great feat, considering the bruises that marred her arm where Joffrey grabbed her. Robert´s eyes darkened when he saw the marks on his great friend´s daughter.

“Come on, boy, we are going to talk”

Robert practically dragged Joffrey away, with the bastard apologizing. Cersei saw the scene and followed her husband, screaming at him to release her precious boy. Ned watched them, releasing a breath of relief. He was very glad now that he didn´t accept the betrothal between Joffrey and Sansa. Meanwhile, the former Queen in the North was congratulating herself on a job well done. Bruising herself in advance was a great move. Hiding her bruises was a pain and a half, also to make sure that Joffrey grabbed her in that specific point of the arm… but it paid off in the end. King Robert won´t offer a betrothal again and his father won´t accept it, not when the Prince had hurt her. She might even be on a good path to erase Joffrey from the line of succession. Now, she only needed to hear the good news that Jon has been taken care of and her happiness would be complete.

“You were very convincing there” her sister suddenly appeared, as silent as ever. A good assassin. “Do you need something for the pain? It looks terrible.”

“I won´t be using summer dresses any time soon” Sansa said, her face showing malice. “At least, not those with short sleeves. I don´t want to be showing the bruises to everyone in court…”

“Cersei is going to hate you for this”

“Let her. It´s when she is at her lousiest” the redhead joined her hands. “and the sooner she commits a mistake, the sooner you can get rid of her for me. Don´t you like that plan?”

“I love it” Arya answered, her face blank. “If only I could love some of your other plans more…”

-In Essos-

Daenerys have been enjoying the attentions of the red priestesses. Hiding in the red temple had been a good idea, the priests and priestesses threated her like she was their God´s Chosen One just because of the dragons. Danny didn´t believe all of what they were saying, she knew that prophecy was a fickle thing, but she was taken care of and her dragons were well fed, growing more and more with each day… completely unnoticed by the Usurper and his minions. She smirked, she won´t be anyone´s puppet now. And now… it was time to begin her Conquest again. Beginning with the first step.

“Were you able to contact the people I asked you for?”

“With some, my princess” a young girl wearing the usual red garb of the red priestesses answered. “the High Priestess Kinvara managed to open a line of communication with Lord Doniphos Paenimyon of Volantis and we even managed to locate Ser Jorah Mormont as you wished, but those in Westeros are more complicated.” Well, she wasn´t expecting to be able to contact Jon so soon. “Ser Barristan Selmy more than the others.”

“Forget it, he will eventually come to us” as for her husband, Daenerys thought as she fed Drogon another piece of burnt meat, he will have to fare for himself for now. She not particularly eager to meet “Jon Snow” again, not after having experienced the dragon that was laying under that pelt. But something tell her that… she wouldn´t have to wait long to see that dragon. “And the Good Masters?”

“As ever. They are even open to… unorthodox ways of payment” the priestess shrunk into herself. “Are you really going to…”

“Not for now” but soon, her dragons would be big enough for the next step. She also wanted to rescue Grey Worm and Missandei, but couldn´t until Drogon can reduce the damn worms to cinders. And talking about friends… “Is he here?”

“Yes, Princess”

“Good” she got up from her seat and walked towards another stance. A known face was the first one to catch her attention once she reached her destiny. “Ser Jorah Mormont.”

“My Queen, I would offer my sword to you”

The Bear knight kneeled to her. Obviously, Varys had sent him. No matter. Her dear friend will soon be on her side again. The same as the others. Now she only needed her husband and children and everything will be complete. The Baratheons, the Lannisters, the STARKS… they all will pay for what they took from them.

Chapter Text

Arthur was beginning to be impatient. As much as he enjoyed his sister Allyria´s company… she had grown up into a magnificent lady, by the way… he wanted to leave Starfall soon and go in search of his King. Unfortunately, in Edric´s absence Allyria had control of the castle and didn´t let him leave. So he dedicated all this time to recover his ability with the sword, to put himself to date with everything that was happening in the Seven Kingdoms (it was possible to see it from the other world, but he wasn´t attentive all the time) and planning his vengeance for Rhaegar. And perhaps he might achieve it while Robert Baratheon was still breathing.

“I heard from a little bird that someone who was long dead has appeared again in our land and I thought… perhaps the Chosen One of the Stranger?” Arthur turned around so fast that he practically became a blur. Specially as he unsheated his sword. “Hello, Ser Arthur. How was returning to life after so much time?”

The former Kingsguard was puzzled as he looked around the room. There was no one. So he started to look around the walls. He had never heard about secret passages inside the walls of Starfall like in the Red Keep, but that they were not famous didn´t mean that they didn´t exist. Only that they weren´t well hidden.

“Here, my dear Ser Arthur” the voice was coming from his hands washing water. He walked up to it and realized that the water was reflecting the face of a woman. A Summer Islander woman. “I was eager to meet you.”

“Who are you?”

“Do I not look familiar?”

“I haven´t met many Summer Islanders in either of my lives.”

“Guess I should have realized that. After all, I haven´t gotten that much from the Rhyonar side of the family.” She smiled. “But I hoped that someone that was once dead would recognize someone like me, especially if he was watching over House Targaryen.”

“Oh, a fellow loyalist. And a returnee too. Then who do I have…” Arthur stopped in his tracks. In fact, he had seen this woman before when he was accompanying Rhaegar in his watching over his son. He had taken an interest in her because… she was family. “You are Princess Sarella Nymeros Martell.”

“A name I wasn´t expecting. Viper Witch of the Sand, Heiress of the Red Viper… perhaps even Sand Snake… or even Sarella Dayne from you?”

“It was Gerold´s wish for his wife, you, and his children to keep the Nymeros Martell name. That, after all, would make them in the eyes of the Realm the true inheritors of Dorne. And I respect my cousin´s wishes, especially when they honor the Rhyonish laws. Or want to oust Usurpers from their fake thrones.”

“The Ironwoods never call me that, they referred to me as Lady Dayne, no matter what others said. I think they feared me, the last Nymeros Martell” she smirked. “Anyway, I don´t have much time, so, straight to business” the daughter of Prince Oberyn showed him the image of Starfall´s port. “Go there. I will create a distraction for your sister so you could escape.”

“Why would I need to escape from Allyria?”

“Because she is afraid. She had lost so much and now that she finally recovered something, she doesn´t want to lose that too. But we both know that you can´t remain with her.”

“So you arranged a ship to bring me somewhere?” he crossed his arms. “Surely not to Essos and the Queen, because you know where my loyalty and my vows go.”

“I´m aware, but soon you will know that we are on the same side” Sarella´s voice reached his ears. “Go to the port and search for the banner of House Velaryon. A friend is already there to pick you up and transport you to White Harbor in the North.”

“Only there? And how am I supposed to infiltrate Winterfell and rescue the Prince? Eddard Stark remembers me too well for me to take that risk.”

“But the Prince is no longer in Winterfell, his uncle tried to have him sent to the Night´s Watch and he was forced to escape… with his valiant knight. And he is heading right now to… Skagos.”

“Skagos? Why would he go there?”

“I don´t know, only that you are still in time to reach him there if you head for White Harbor as soon as we finish this conversation” the image of the ship disappeared and showed the dark skinned woman again. “And considering that my magic is about to run out, it should be soon. So go and don´t lose more time. The knight is good, but maybe he can use a new training partner and a few new tricks.”

“You haven´t answered my question. Why is the Prince heading for Skagos?”

“There is something there that he desperately needs. Satisfied?” the former Princess answered. “Now don´t lose more time and go.”

“Thank you”

As soon as the image of the Witch disappeared from the water, Arthur Dayne heard a commotion down in the mess Hall. If he had heard it from such a distance, then surely Allyria would be busy with it and not paying attention to whatever her older brother was doing. Taking advantage of that, the knight got out of the room quickly. As he exited Starfall through the servant´s entrance, covering his head with a hood, he allowed himself to feel bad for the sister he was abandoning. He hoped Allyria would understand. Then he head for the docks, where he easily found the ship with the Velaryon heraldry. And the Master of Ships from the King´s small council. No, that was not the right title. How were they called again?

“Ser Aurane Velaryon, Flame of Shrykos, at your service, Ser Arthur” the young man said, bowing his head in respect. “Or simply Aurane Waters.”

“The King certainly has a predilection for Bastards.”

“And Cripples and Broken things too” the mariner answered “But that´s an history for later. Shall we?” as they entered the ship, he showed Dayne the room in which he would remain until they arrived to their destiny. “By the way, he preferred Prince. Regent or Advisor, it´s up to you, but he doesn´t want to claim Kingship to anything.”

“He was born a King”

“If you were attentive enough, you should know why” the Bastard of Driftmark said, already on the other side of the door. “Sweet dreams, Ser Arthur, and remember to be nice to the Prince. Once he got what he is looking for in Skagos, a disgust from him is going to be terrifying for everyone.”

“As should be”

Aurane left him alone. Arthur sat down in the bed, closing his eyes to sleep for a bit. Travel by ship wasn´t his favorite way of moving around the Seven Kingdoms, but he wasn´t going to complain about it, because it was faster than carriage or horse. Also, the only way to arrive to the North without being detected by the Starks. A busy port as White Harbor seemed to be the best possibly choice if someone wanted to enter the North at the same time as disappear. He hoped the ship was one of the fastest ones in the Velaryon fleet.

And the Pipefish didn´t disappoint. They arrived to the domain of the Manderlys sooner than he thought. The Sword of the Morning was truly marveled at the speed of the ship when he pulled the hood over his head and secured his pack on his back.

“A little warning on the beginning of your journey, good Ser” the bastard captain said, smiling as he told his goodbyes. “Be careful of the Skagosi. The Prince might know how to handle them, but you are new to that. And not everything that they said about them is a lie.”

“Am I to believe that they eat human flesh?”

“Yes… among other things” the mariner laughed at his expression. “The unicorns are also more dangerous than you might think, especially those that are fed human parts by their owners. For herbivores, they like the taste of a heart as much as any carnivore.”

“And the King has gone there?”

“Our Witch already told you, there is something he desperately needs somewhere in Skagos. And after that… well, the trip he is going to take you in is going to be a great one. I wish I can accompany you there, but I have my own trip to make. Also an schedule, as I am to arrive before Stannis Baratheon has his little gathering… if he even had one this time.”

“Why the rush then?”

“Because there is still a probability… and someone is going to be there. Someone that me and another someone very dear to me desperately have to see” Aurane´s eyes suddenly turned dark. “So here our paths diverge. Good luck on your journey, Ser Arthur, truly.”

“In yours too, Ser Aurane”

As the Pipefish left the port, Arthur advanced through them in search of a ship that would take him to Skagos. No one would dare to traverse such dangerous shores, so he had no other option but to steal one. It wasn´t easy, as he had to hide from the Manderly guards a lot of nights until he could find one and a map to the island. He held Dawn ready all the time as he approached the stony shores of Skagos. He expected to find the stoneborn already waiting for him on the beach, but there was no one. At least not until he started searching the island for the Prince and his escort. The knight didn´t know how he knew where he was going, but he knew. Perhaps it was one of the Blessings from the Stranger… Dodging the stoneborn certainly wasn´t. They ambushed him through a narrow passage through the mountains, but then someone helped him.

“Are you alright?” the boy, because it was a boy, asked as he offered a hand to Arthur.

“How did you know that I needed help?”

“Princess Sarella contacted the Prince this morning and told us that an ally would arrive today. And that we had to help him, because the Stoneborn could ambush him.”

The Prince. His King. His Prince´s son. Rhaegar´s son. Lyanna´s son. The child he failed to protect at the moment of his birth, that he didn´t even took a glance of because of Howland Reed and Eddard Stark. They were finally going to meet face to face. As he raised his eyes from the Northern boy, surely a squire or a page, was the heir to House Targaryen. He recognized him in an instant, despite the Stark coloring. He didn´t know how Eddard had managed to convince the world that the boy was his son. If you see under the long face, the grey eyes and the dark hair, the boy was so similar to one of those portraits from Rhaegar´s family gallery that he couldn´t be anything else but a Targaryen. He looked especially similar to the Rouge Prince in his youth, or so Arthur believed...

Both boys approached him. Wait, the Prince was here alone with only a squire? The Witch said that he was with an escort knight, was this supposed to be the knight? But… now that he thought about it, just as with Sarella, he had seen this boy before. He didn´t remember the particular occasions really well, but he was sure. Well, if he had seen him before, then he had been someone trustworthy at least, loyal to the cause and good enough to worm his way into the Small Council. He would have to test his skills later.

“Who are you?” Jon Snow asked.

“Ser Arthur Dayne, your Grace, at your service”

“Arthur Dayne died long ago, the same day I was born” the other northman put himself in front of the Sword of the Morning. “Do you think I didn´t know?”

“Well, being chosen by the Stranger works wonders” Arthur answered, bowing in front of him. “My K… my Prince, I swear my sword to you as I did your father. I will first fall into this blade” he showed Dawn. “than betray you.”

“And I believe you… Ser Arthur” the boy smiled. “Now get up, we have a long way to go. Ser Larence, you too. You know where we have to go.”

“The boy is really a knight, my prince?”

“Ser Larence has been my escort knight for years now. He is probably the only man in the entirety of Westeros that can match your skill. And he is not only a good knight, but a capable commander of the cavalry.”

“I can show you if you want to, good Ser”

“May I remind you that we are on a tight schedule already? Whatever you are going to do, do it later. We still have much to travel until we arrive our destination and the stoneborn surely are still a threat.” Jon made both knights stop with only his voice. “Come on, we still have one or two days to travel. You can measure your skills while we settle down for the night.”

Arthur nodded as both him and Larence sheated their swords and followed their Prince through the rocky passages. Just as Jon had promised, they had the occasion to spar. To avoid any unwanted accident, they were very careful with their sword. And Arthur had to say that he was very amazed by Larence´s skills. He was faster than he thought a boy his age could be… even Jaime Lannister at his prime would be jealous of this boy. When the Sword of the Morning interrupted the spar because he was tired, the northern boy showed that he wasn´t tired at all. The stamina and strength he had were… something strange. As if he was the new Ser Galladon of Morne. Or something more…

“You shouldn´t dwell on that too much, everything will be revealed to you in due time” his Prince said as they lifted the camp the next day. “For now, only concentrate in our path. We should arrive to our final destination around midday.”

“To where, my Prince?”

“To the Highest Mountain in this small island, the only one big enough to contain him during his waiting”

And Jon Snow was right, the reached the mountain. From then, they searched a cave that took them so deep that Arthur thought they were reaching the deeps of the island. But no, they were only reaching a wall of granite.

“Why are we here, your Grace?” Dayne asked. “Is this truly the right place?”

“It is” the Prince answered, touching the wall. “Like I said, this was the only place where he could be contained during his long nap. The only place where he wouldn´t have to bother for intruders while he waited for his bond…” he took his arm away. “He was a terrible reputation and with the others like him dying… he needed to grieve in peace. Also, he was too savage, but it was not his fault. He was born too early.”

“What do you mean?”

“That we need to hurry and wake him up, now that I am here. Step back” Larence did it immediately and, after a moment of hesitation, Arthur did too. Jon cut his palm and drew a bit of blood and dipped his finger on it. With an expert hand, he drew something on the wall. Old Valyrian runes. “Like the old Targaryen Vaults at Dragonstone.”

“Blood magic” the dornishman was surprised. How had he learned it? “Your Grace, is it safe?”

“Don´t worry, he would never hurt me. He sealed himself so only I could safely enter… and wake him.”

“Your Grace, wait…”

“In a way, that´s all I have been doing. Me… and him have been waiting for so many years” Arthur´s eyes widened when he saw what was on the end of the passage. What slept there, still drawing breath. “This is going to be a great reunion” he lifted his hand. “Wake bē, Morghul!!”

A big yellow eye opened.

“My Morghul, my death who flies… because you always send my enemies to the underworld. It´s time for you and me to be together again. Sōvegon!!”

A roar shook the entire island as what was sleeping in it´s deeps finally woke up and took flight again.

-Several days later, In another place-

“I wish there was no need to reunite this way.”

“On another note, this is the best way to reunite without attracting uninvited attention.”

Aurane Velaryon was kneeling down on one of the seats in front of the altar of R'hllor, with another person near him. They both seemed deep in prayer in a secluded place of the temple, dressed as followers. None of them believed in the Lord of the Light, but this was a good place to talk without being heard, specially since they were whispering to each other. Because it wouldn´t benefit Donyphos Paenymion to be found to have Westerosi allies. At least not so early in the game. The Flame of Balerion smirked down as the one of Shrykos talked to him in the same hushed tone.

“You are right… Lord Hand” the mariner mimicked him. “I guess you have been busy preparing for our… remake of the Empire.”

“The Tigers didn´t have any idea, they merely thought that I´m doing the same as always. I was always very vocal against slavery after all” the older man continued. “They are so sure of their victory already, that Maegyr fool and his sycophants… but that´s the plan, no? and while they think they have already defeated me, I put my pieces in their place.”

“But the Tigers are not the true enemy, not when the Game of Thrones is considered” the Velaryon continued. “Tell me, my Lord, are you sure you can defeat Lord Tyrion at his own game now?”

“I didn´t lose to that petty little man the last time, but to something that is a terror without compare. So yes, I am ready to kick his ass one more time… in the name of our Queen and Prince” the Elephant bowed more. “And before you leave, I have a final surprise waiting for you, Lord Admiral.”

“Oh? And what could that be?”

“Continue here and you will see” Doniphos made a final bow and left the place as if he hadn´t talked to Aurane at all, only prayed fervently.

The Velaryon knight stayed in his place, kneeled, keeping his head down as a good little follower, waiting for whatever Lord Paenymion had prepared for him. He wondered what it was. Suddenly, a maiden in a black dress with a red veil kneeled down near him. She did the same as the old man before. Aurane recognized her immediately. There was so much he wanted to tell her, but he wasn´t sure… carefully not be seen, the woman extended a hand towards him and he took it. They held each other´s hands without saying word and Aurane felt he could breath again. He missed her.

The Flame of Terrax, Lysandra Rogare. Or Velaryon, depending on who you asked. Aurane´s wife. And the great traveler who knew where each resource was located and how to use it, even some that were yet to be discovered, the merchant genius that practically lifted House Rogare again by herself… with a bit of help from their Master of Coin. Also a direct descendant of Viserys the Second and his wife Larra Rogare… through the fourth child he never knew he had. Targaryen and Velaryon blood… with such an ancestry, no one was surprised when their children rode dragons.

That being said, they should clarify some things. First, Aurane´s and Lysandra´s wasn´t a perfect loving marriage like the Targaryens or the Saeragyons. They also weren´t particularly faithful to each other, that was neither of their styles. But, in an amazing way, they found their port in each other. They worked in a strange way, more with an understanding and a deal than anything else… but there was love between them. More than duty definitely. And they had love for the children they brought to the world together. For as much as they had lovers, they were the only other parent of each other´s children. And second… both Lysandra and him had a taste for revenge that the other loved. Specially when someone hurt what was dear to them.

“I missed you”

“Me too” Lysandra whispered back, still holding his hand. “I have prayed to Onixa all this time. May the Mistress of Revenge grant us our payback.”

“I pray to her too, my dear, I pray all day for that to happen.”

Yes, they would all win. The both of them wanted to help their Queen and Prince to gain their throne once more and defeat all their enemies, the Lannisters between them. But, before that, the Velaryon couple will have their revenge. And no, the Lannisters weren´t on their list. No, the one that deserved their ire was… someone unexpected. After all, he took advantage of a shallow connection to their Prince to commit his crime. No matter, soon they will get their revenge. He and his would pay… the Old, the True, the Brave would make them pay...

-In another place-

Tyrion had waited a lot of time in the Wall, trying to gather an explanation that wouldn´t get him killed by the Raven and that petty little red bitch he calls a sister. He had promised that he would take care of Jon Snow, make sure he would never leave the Wall with his life… or not arrive alive. Unfortunately, the Prince Regent had his own surprise waiting for him. Him and his Flames… which he would have to keep an eye on. Too bad many of them were in Essos and there was the issue of the one whose true identity he didn´t know. The Flame of Tessarion, the Silent one, who never spoke and always kept a mask and robes all over his body. And he was as dangerous as Littlefinger… for his enemies.

“I have come to take the Black!!” a known voice announced in the courtyard and Tyrion lifted his head. There he was, former Grand maester Samwell Tarly, standing there about to join the Night´s Watch. It was strange to see him so young… and without his robes.

“And what would the Watch want with a man such as you?” Tyrion intervened. Without Jon Snow, Samwell Tarly would die in less than a week. He couldn´t let that happen, his mind was the sharpest beside his own. They still needed that. He needed that on his side. “Tell me, why would you want to join?” Sam didn´t answer, cowering even in front of a dwarf. “Am I right if I guess that your talents lie in other… areas?”

“I don´t know what you are talking about, Lord…”

“Come talk with me, perhaps we can work something out”

And the Little Lion would. It would be good to have Samwell Tarly indebted to him, specially if he was sending him to the Citadel as his agent. It would drastically change his destiny, but it will all be worth in the end. Sam would also be so grateful that he would do the investigation on the White Walkers and the Long Night for Tyrion while he worked on… other problems. After all, your Graces, there was much work to do and so little time. Let the game begin.

Chapter Text

“Ser Arthur, it´s not going to bite or burn you if I don´t order him” Jon said from his place before the dragon´s shoulders. “Larence, you have actually ridden one of these before. You certainly couldn´t be afraid of doing it again.”

Arthur couldn´t say he was sure of the boy´s words. Yes, he had served House Targaryen, the House of the Dragon, for years, but by the time he entered service or even meet Rhaegar, the dragons were long dead. So there was no way to be accustomed to them or even the chance to see one himself… until then. And he couldn´t say he was thrilled to see one. Of course, a real dragon could be a great asset at the moment of sitting the real King on the Iron Throne, but he couldn´t say he trusted the beast. Besides… the dragon didn´t have a saddle. How was the rider to stay on it´s shoulders if there wasn´t a saddle?

Larence, for his part, was having other concerns. It was true that he had ridden dragons before, his own children had dragons bonded to them. Helaena was very proud of them because of that… but her early death, before the dragons were even big enough to take their ridders to the sky, meant that it felt to her widower to teach them to ride. And for that, also for their safety, the responsible father in him told him he had to be in each of his children´s first few flights, while they learned… and also learned that he was not made to fly. He felt such stomach churning nausea just by taking off that he was nearly useless over the animals except for clinging for dear life to their necks and act as an extra safety device. He was ashamed of that, but… couldn´t help them.

“Ser Arthur, Ser Larence…”

“Alright” the boy truly regretted not pilfering from the maester at Deepwood Motte a bottle of stomach medicine. The Sword of the Morning followed him, still unsure. “Where are we going now?”

“Beyond the Wall, where the Three Eyes Raven dwelled before he took over Bran. From then one, we will have to fly even further.”

“Your Grace, why would we…”

“There is something in the Raven´s lair that I need to recover… two something in reality” he smirked. “I could have asked Val and Toregg to find it, but something tells me that they are not going to be able to enter… but I might. They might let me in.”

“Who?”

“Those we believed to be gone forever, but are still waiting quietly… the Children of the Forest.”

Dragons and now the Children of the Forest? Larence didn´t seem surprised, so Arthur didn´t say anything. They got on the dragon and this one took off. He had to say that… next time he would travel to the Wall by horse. It had certainly been an experience for him, but he much preferred the usual transportation for knights than the dragonlords´ famed mounts. Even so, he wouldn´t deny the magnificent image they projected as they fly over Skagos and the Northern Coast. Until the Wall and then beyond it. Sooner than he could believe, they reached a cleft with weirwood trees. Jon touched one of them, frowning as he didn´t find anything, but then something emerged from a hidden entrance. Arthur and Larence gasped, it was truly a Child of the Forest.

“Are you the Last Hero?” the small being answered. “I am Leaf and was send to escort you” the two knights moved to follow. “Only you.”

“Your grace…”

“They are not going to hurt me, Sers, stand down” Jon lifted a hand to make them stay, then turned to Leaf. “I will follow you, but don´t try to double cross me.”

“We will not”

As the Prince disappeared down a hole, the two knights were left on their own. As they waited, they decided to have a spar to practice. Arthur had seen Larence´s amazing abilities and wanted to test himself against him. The boy was good, he admitted in his head when they crossed swords, but still had much to learn. Or perhaps the openings and fails he was seeing for moments and those small mistakes were because he still was getting used to his younger body. Apart from that, which seemed to get a more and more unusual with every second they fought, he was definitely one of the most talented opponents he had ever met.

“I need to rest” Arthur finally gave up, breathing deeply. Larence seemed to still be able to fight, no signs of fatigue in him. “I have to say, I haven´t had a spar partner as talented as you in years, not even he White bull and Prince Lewyn… you almost seem inhumanly talented.”

“I can´t claim all the responsibility for that” The bastard boy said, his face showing a very strange expression. “Has the Prince told you about my last name?”

“Saeragyon?”

“Yes, Saeragyon… it´s the last name I acquired for my wife after I got married. My Helaena was proud of it, proud of being a descendant of House Targaryen, the Last of the Dragonlords. Through Princess Saera Targaryen.”

“Princess Saera… now it makes much sense” Arthur spoke calmly. He had heard that the infamous daughter of Jaehaerys the Wise left descendants in far Volantis, but never cared to know much about their destiny. After all, they were barely an appendage in the history of the Seven Kingdoms as bastards that tried to use their mother as means to attain a throne. “So, she was…”

“No, Helaena only wanted to keep what was hers. You see, when House Targaryen invaded, it was a turbulent time for the Saeragyons. In the last generation, many had died and left her the sole heir to a once powerful family. Many nobles and other powerful people were eyeing her as a kill fresh to devour… but she refused to let herself be devoured. So she offered an alliance to her distant cousins to help them govern Volantis, saying she will marry the man they would chose for her and the last piece of her family legacy she could grasp into.”

“What was that?”

“Knowledge” a smile came to his. “Someone with Rhyonish blood like you certainly has heard of Paladins.”

“Not that I remember”

Larence sighed. Yes, no one truly remembered Valyria for anything but the dragonlords and blood warlocks that they used to employ. Other elite forces like the Paladins, useful but not that spectacular when you put them besides a dragon, pale in comparison. So he explained it to Ser Arthur. He started saying that, while the dragonlords were surely the greatest and most elite force in the Freehold, they weren´t the type of knights they used. Paladins were their land force that marched right behind the fire of the dragons to complete the conquering by slaughtering the remaining forces on ground before they could get out and attack. But they were not only butchers, but the most skilled fighters on land. They said a single Paladin was worth fifteen Ghiscari legionaires.

“Why they weren´t well known then? And the training methods… I know that many secrets were lost in the Doom of Valyria, but the training methods…”

“That´s the thing, many secrets were lost. Or simply kept secret by the last dragonlords when they had to convert to the Faith of the Seven. Even with dragons.”

“Because they would be seen as warlocks and heretics? That happened with the Faith Militant.”

“And it caused enough problems by itself. Besides, the creation of Paladins was… complicated” Larence frowned. “When I became one, I wasn´t sure I was going to survive the procedure.”

“Procedure?” Arthur was surprised again. “You let someone alter your body without a certainty that you would survive? Why would you do that to yourself?”

“Because, even if I was pretty talented with the sword, it was not enough once. And I realized that it was probably not going to be enough again. If I wanted to protect those I love, I needed to be better than human. That and… I trusted the person who made it” and he lost her too. “It was not enough either, but I became much better. And could keep many more of my loved ones alive being a Paladin.”

“Would you do it again?”

“Yes… but I was glad when I found out the Gods have returned me with the modification already in my younger body. The procedure could be quite… intense” he shuddered. “Helaena doubted before trying to make more Paladins after me.”

“Helaena… your wife?”

“Yes”

“The descendant of Princess Saera… but she… how could she have such knowledge?”

“You haven´t learned much about Princess Saera, no?” the boy raised an eyebrow. “I know that the common description of her is that of a wanton whore, but there is one that was better for her: in her own way, as clever as Archmaester Vaegon. She liked her sex, but she knew that her beauty would one day fail her to get more partners that were to her liking. Especially if her father the King found out that she was playing with boys. So she device a contingency plan.”

“The Paladins, she found a way to create her own Paladins.”

“Yes, she made a complete study over that one subject, so complete that she actually managed to improve the ancient procedure. Even Archmaester Vaegon would have been impressed by her work. She kept that on herself all the time, much more when she was sent to Oldtown as a novice of the Silent Sisters. Along with her robes and some stolen money, her book was the only thing she took.”

“I thought her plan was to open her own pleasure House”

“It was, and I´m glad she had that contingency plan for her contingency plan, because it allowed the Saeragyons to survive after the dragons died and magic with them!! Because without the ability to create Paladins, they lost a lot of power.”

Arthur grunted, agreeing. He had to give it to the whorish and long dead Princess, she truly had the wits to make it out of every situation and even do that for her descendants. It was true when she said that she didn´t need the Seven Kingdoms, her own Kingdom in Volantis was strong with her whores, who certainly told her the secrets of every powerful man that went to bed with them, and her personal army, who possibly acted as sellswords for the volantene while showering her in gold. It was more than enough for her to have no need to search for men to satisfy her needs, but to have men searching for her. Saera Targaryen certainly had lived and loved as she wished before she died.

Larence, on the other side, was thinking of the dark side of that world. Yes, Paladins were a strong force and guaranteed to have some respect and admiration, in Essos or the Ancient Freehold. In fact, in the beginnings of Valyria, candidates for Paladins were young children of dragonlord families that didn´t have dragons of their own. It was a way to gain honor for them, as if they didn´t have a dragon, becoming another kind of elite warrior was the best they could amount to. Later in the history, apparently, the option of joining was opened to other families or even children of slaves born in Valyria, children who wanted to gain the citizenship even if they risked their lives in the process. Very few lived through the process. Those who did… perhaps they got what they wanted, but they still had restrictions. After all, the ancient Paladins were sworn to Meleys, so they dedicated their lives to the motherland and the motherland only. Most of them spent their lives fighting for the conquest, during their few moments of peace they had to deal with what effect it left to their minds. It had been a bit different for the Paladins created by himself, Helaena or even Saera, but… he still felt a little bit of remorse for that… remorse he had been to grief-stricken to feel in the past…

While his sworn knights thought of that, Jon advanced towards the end of the cave with Leaf for a guide. The Children of the Forest hide when they heard the sound of his footsteps, but he still could hear or see signs of their presence. Finally, they reached roots of the weirwoods, where the empty shell that now remained of Brynden Rivers was. The body was still breathing but now that the Raven wasn´t there, the infamous Bloodraven was catatonic. And he could tell why. Jon approached his long lost relative and kneeled in front of him. The old man´s host had been a pain in the neck, but he still deserved some respect on his part. After all, before he became the Three Eyed Raven, he had done everything in his power to secure the Targaryen legacy. His legacy.

“Well, old man, I´m here” he said, looking around in the ground. He finally found it, the hilt of a sword decorated with rubies. The famous Dark Sister was back where it belonged. “I guess I don´t have to tell you what I have to do now. It might mark me as it did you, even if it´s the right thing to do… but you would have done it anyway.”

“Brynden came here when the times were desperate and accepted to become host of the Raven” Leaf explained. “He wanted to see far beyond… to save those he had loved and left behind. But it was too much for him, as it was for several others. Instead of keeping it in order, the power consumed him. In the end, this cage was the only thing containing him.”

“You are talking about the Three Eyed Raven” the Prince answered.

“Of course” the Child approached. “The Raven was… a servant of the Old Gods that came to this world to serve their purposes. He entered the body of a greenseer to achieve his mission, but became too greedy and tried to posses everything with his power. In the end, the Gods used their powers to create the cage and House Stark locked him here… but he couldn´t be permanently defeated, as he was still needed. He was always needed to keep the knowledge of the world.”

“How did he escape?”

“We aren´t sure, one moment he was here in Brynden, and the next… the next he was somewhere else in someone else. And we sensed something strange… as if the presence of the Gods had helped him out” she looked at him. “Are you going to cage him again?”

“I´m going to kill him”

“Then you are never going to win. He will come back in another greenseer, again and again. The only way to contain him is lock him in his cage again”

“I see”

In one fluid moment, Jon cut Bloodraven´s head. His body still lived, but his spirit was certainly long gone or imprisoned inside his rotten corpse by the Three Eyed Raven. The roots seemed to retreat from his body as soon as he did so, freeing the corpse. Jon collected it something, planning to give the greenseer a good Targaryen burial, even if his ashes were to be scattered Beyond the Wall. As he was collecting Brynden´s remain, he found a ring in one of his fingers. A ring of sapphire and emerald… something someone will want to recover. So he pocketed it, secured Dark Sister and prepared to get with his cloak full of dead man.

“Please, my Prince, before you go, let me give you a warning” Leaf called to him. “No man alone could cage the Raven and no others than those of Stark blood could do it. And having a dragon makes no difference. You will have to come back, my Prince, with your close kin to cage him again. And when that moment arrives, you will have to stand side by side as a family, because the way to lock him will hurt your spirits and bodies more than you believe and only remaining united you will succeed.”

“You say it as if I want any kind of relationship with the Starks” he growled. “I will find a way to kill him. And if I cannot, then to cage it by myself.”

“Then you are condemning yourself to defeat, my Prince” she approached. “You once loved each other, you can do it again.”

“Easier to be said than done, after everything they did to me.”

“True… but not all of them. Perhaps forgiveness could start with them” she touched his arm. “You will know why and how when the time arrives.”

He got out of the cave feeling something inside his chest. Burning hatred. After all this time, after everything that they did to him, he had to forgive the Starks? No, not in a thousand years. Not even if they crawled on their bellies like the worms they were and begged forgiveness. Not even Robb and Rickon, because that they haven´t betrayed him doesn´t make them innocent. Maybe they only died before they could double cross him. He continued thinking that as he watched Arthur and Larence prepare a pyre. Morghul set it on fire and, with a simple prayer, Jon sent the spirit of the Great Bastard Bloodraven to the afterlife. He hoped that he had reunited with his brother Daeron and all those he loved. Those he considered family. He wished he could do the same, but… there was one more thing he must do before joining his beloved Daenerys in Essos.

“Are we going to look for the Queen in Pentos now, your Grace?” Arthur asked. “Or are we going to bring their end to the treacherous Starks?”

“No to both, Ser Arthur, there is one more thing we have to do before doing either” he smirked. “Don´t worry too much about the Starks, I have left a few surprises for them after my departure. I wonder how Sansa´s face is going to be… when she finds out what I have done.”

“Whatever surprise you have prepared for your cousin, my Prince, I´m sure it´s going to be magnificent. Just as the face she is going to make.”

“Of course, the most magnificent… for us”

Jon chuckled as he imagined Sansa´s reaction. At the same time, he thought that she should have expected this move. After all, not even Robb was that stupid to ignore a threat like that. But she, like Cersei and Littlefinger, always thought things were going to work her way. Also, she didn´t talk to the smallfolk, so she didn´t know a small little secret he was private too… or perhaps she only knew the barebones of it. Anyway, this worked in his favor. And, even if he ended up doing Robb a favor, he preferred to deal with the Young Wolf than the Bitch of Winterfell at full power.

-In Winterfell-

Robb Stark certainly haven´t expected to receive such a parting gift from his brother. Jon hated them… or perhaps he was just angry with them. But this gave him hope that at least their family was not completely broken, that there was still a chance to get it back together, to reunite everyone, apologize, make reparations and leave the past behind. Happily, he opened the letter Jon had given maester Luwin in confidence before leaving for the Wall. It began with how Jon was innocent of the crime that he was accused of and how his brother surely knew that, which he did. That Sansa was lying to make this fate fall on him, for what reason he didn´t know, but, to demonstrate that he didn´t resent her as much as she did him, he was going to give Robb some information that would save both her future and his. It was good information and the Young Wolf wanted to believe it. Even with what Bran had showed him, he wanted to believe it.

So, the next morning, he gathered Ser Rodrik and some of his men and ordered them to depart for Bolton Lands. Without the Fall and subsequent attempted murder, his mother wasn´t sequestered in Bran´s room and he could leave Winterfell to her for a few days without problem. She asked him where he was going, of course, but he only calmed her down, telling her that he was going to take care of some troubles. For extra security, he brought Theon with him. Even if he didn´t trust the Ironborn, he preferred to keep him by his side instead of in a Winterfell with his mother, Bran and Rickon. Not when half of the guard was going to be with him.

He followed Jon´s instructions to the letter and ordered the guards to hide between the trees in a certain place, close to mill that apparently belonged to a young widow and her son. They didn´t have to wait for long. The screams caught some guards out of guard, the barks that followed them too. Soon, they saw a young girl being chased by hunting dogs. The girl´s face was so full of horror that some of the men prepared to go to her rescue. Robb shook to stop them. It was horrible, but he couldn´t allow them to act just yet. Not before the culprits show themselves. The dogs finally caught up with the girl and threw her to the ground. The hunters came later, laughing and saying obscenities. Robb´s own blood boiled when he recognized the leader. Ramsay Snow was there, just as Jon had promised. The Young Wolf thanked the Gods that the men The Bastard of Bolton had with him were few compared to his own guards. If not, it would have been hard to detain Ramsay without anyone knowing. As the Bastard´s Boys started to surround the girl, pushing the dogs away and opening their breaches to rape her, Robb and his guards jumped into action.

“Stop!! In the name of the Starks!!” Ser Rodrik yelled as arrows started to fall, killing the dogs so they couldn´t attack. The men screamed and tried to pull their breaches up to escape or pull out their swords, but the guards stopped them. As they moved, Robb noticed that Ramsay, the only one with his pants on, was trying to escape. Without waiting, he went after the bastard, ignoring Ser Rodrik´s screams to stop.

He caught up to Ramsay in the middle of the woods, away from his men. The bastard was armed with a sword. They battled in single combat, but defeating him was not going to be easy. Ramsay fought like a beast, he was a better archer than swordsman, but that doesn´t mean that he didn´t have any ability with the sword or that he was lacking with any other weapon. His ugly face contorted into a winning smile when the Heir of Winterfell fell to the ground after blocking one of his attacks. Robb´s eyes widened when he saw the bastard lifting his sword to bring it down on him with his full strength… until an arrow sailed through the air, barely missing Robb to hit Ramsay´s crotch somehow. The Bastard of the Dreadfort screamed in pain, letting go of his sword. He looked around to see who had dared, his eyes landing on Theon Greyjoy and his bow. Enraged, he charged towards the ironborn, only to be clubbed in the nape by Robb with the pommel of his sword. He landed on the ground, unconscious.

“Theon, you…” Robb turned around to see his childhood friend turned enemy on his knees on the ground, asking for forgiveness from Ramsay, calling him master and telling him that his Reek didn´t wanted to do that. He almost seemed in a trance, a trance of fear. The Stark then recalled where he had attacked and a darker picture than he could imagine started to form in his mind.

“Lord Robb!!” Ser Rodrik approached with the rest of the guards.

“Theon, get up” he said, practically dragging the ironborn to his feet. This one seemed unable to stay on his feet by himself. “Dammit, Theon, you need to get up. No one has to know… whatever happened. This can´t be known, do you understand?”

The commanding tone seemed to work in him, because Theon managed to stay on his feet. Both boys were together when the guards arrived, surrounding the unconscious Ramsay and tying him up. Robb ordered them to take the bastard back to Winterfell, as he has plans for him. Besides, according to the law, even a bastard from a noble had to have a trial, even if he was caught in the act. And his lord father needed to answer for his offspring´s crimes. Which would drag Roose Bolton into the middle of this disgusting issue and completely destroy his image to the Northern Lords. It was a winning situation for the Starks.

“Robb” Theon said as he entered the Young Wolf´s room after they returned to Winterfel. “Master… I think you are my new master now.”

“What are you talking… Theon… Theon, you don´t have to… what are you doing?!!” Robb took a few steps away from the ironborn, who had gotten into his knees and tried to untie his breeches.

“I… I´m showing my gratitude to the master” the other boy answered, genuinely confused. And it was that… all the progress made while he was with Asha, with Sansa, with everyone… all had disappeared and he had almost become Reek again while facing Ramsay. Even if he managed to land a hit on him… just seeing Ramsay was enough to make him regress into the servile creature he used to be. “Master taught Reek that he must show his gratitude by pleasuring the master. I can… he trained me well, I can surely pleasure the new master better than…”

“I don´t need a slave!!” Robb had to stop himself by force from yelling, feeling nauseated. So his terrible feeling from before was right. Ramsay had really… raped Theon. Constantly. He still didn´t know how exactly that could be done between two men, but… “Get up and go to your own room. I certainly don´t own you and won´t… do that to you.”

“Master can do anything he want with…”

“NO!!!” Robb was sure that the whole castle heard that word, but as long as they didn´t hear anything else, it was fine. “Theon, you… you are your own owner. You are free, do with your body whatever you want. If you want to sleep with all the whores in Wintertown, do it, or if you simply don´t want to sleep with anyone anymore… that´s your choice. No one is going to force you to lay with anyone again, not even me… no one should have done it in the first place.”

“You… you don´t think I deserved it?” the ironborn asked. Anyone who had been betrayed as badly as Robb by someone he trusted as a brother like Theon would have taken this chance to exact his revenge. But honorable Robb…

“No one, and I really mean no one, deserves what that animal did to you” the Young Wolf said, anger all over his face. “Not even someone like you.”

“But I… I took Winterfell and… and Bran and Rickon… I took your brothers prisoner… and I…”

“Don´t misunderstand me, I haven´t forgiven you” the redhead crossed his arms. “But what Ramsay did to you was far too horrible for me or anyone decent to attempt it.”

“Master…”

“Robb” he told the older boy. “I´m Robb and you are Theon. Theon Greyjoy, not a slave, not Reek, definitely not anyone´s whore” the Stark turned around. “Now get yourself together and out of my room. I don´t want anyone to get any funny ideas. Specially not when the Lords of the North are to arrive soon?”

“They… are?”

“Yes, I asked maester Luwin to write to them to come and witness the trial of Ramsay Snow” he smirked. “The bastard is going to pay for his crimes. As soon as the Lords arrived, I´m going to give his victims their justice… even you, Theon” he signaled the door. “Now go away, we both need to sleep.”

“I… I sleep with the dogs at the kennels or at master´s room on the…”

“What did I say? You don´t have a master any longer. And a pretty comfortable room with a comfortable bed.” He instructed. “So out you go. If you need help to sleep, you can always go to maester Luwin for a potion.”

“I…”

“Theon, seriously, go to your room and sleep in your bed, ask for dreamwine if you can´t. Just… get out of here.”

The ironborn nodded and walked away. Inside, he was feeling relieved. Without Ramsay close and with Robb not willing to be his master, perhaps he could recover Theon after all. Not the old Theon, but a better Theon… maybe. As he entered his room and tried to find himself comfortable in his own skin again after meeting the man who had undone and build him again, he wondered if there was some way to help him, perhaps a healing method… the maester should know, right? But at the same time, he didn´t want to tell anyone about this. Not even Asha knew the full extent of his torture because he was so ashamed…
Apart from all those painful thoughts, something was bothering Theon. As he laid in bed and tried to sleep, he wondered if Robb knew that Jon had just used him to get rid of Sansa´s pawns. He wasn´t sure what Sansa was thinking. Theon knew full well that the woman she had become, the woman that made her sister slit Littlefinger´s throat as he heard she did, wouldn´t let the Boltons live without a good reason. And that reason was surely her brothers. If Sansa valued something, it was power. She wanted to be a Queen more than anything else in her life. And to achieve that, she needed to take Robb and Rickon out of the way. Just like the last time. She probably wanted to use the Boltons for that, just as Tywin Lannister did. He didn´t know how she planned to succeed with such a plan, but… anyway, this wasn´t a matter he should be dwelling in. Neither about Jon´s own motives. None of them was the person who he used to know… but it was not Reek´s… Theon´s place to correct the master… Robb. He will just have to help him.

Chapter Text

Theon tried not to look too meek as the Lords of the North started flooding the halls of Winterfell. He couldn´t refrain to shiver when he saw Roose Bolton crossing the door, his expression as uninterested as ever. The Ironborn actually moved back to flee those eyes so much like Ramsay´s, but Robb´s hand closed around his wrist like an iron manacle. It hurt him a bit, but also managed to ground him enough to remain Theon and not kneel into the floor begging forgiveness as Reek. When the Bolton party went away, Robb finally released him. Not for the first time, he wondered why Robb was taking care of him if he hated Theon so much, but the thought disappeared from his mind as the next guest arrived. He remembered him, from Sansa´s wedding. Had gifted the Boltons and Freys pays… pays made with their kinsmen´s meat.

“Lord Manderly, I´m pleased you graced us with your company. I only wished it was in better circumstances” the Young Wolf saluted.

“Yes, awful circumstances indeed” Lord Too-Fat-To-Sit-A-Horse answered, his expression uncharacteristically solemn. “I heard some awful things about what the Bastard of Bolton did while I was eating in Wintertown. Tell me, my lord, are those true?”

“Depending on what you heard” Robb answered. “Don´t worry, soon you will know which are true and which not. I´m going to expose the Bastard´s evil deeds when all the Lords are reunited this afternoon in the Main Hall.”

“I´m eager for that, Lord Robb.”

If Lord Manderly was eager to know exactly what Ramsay had done to his victims or simply to rid himself of some of the most gruesome images, Theon didn´t know. Anyway, the ironborn didn´t think the Lord would have much luck in either. There were some crimes of Ramsay that the Starks had yet to uncover, mainly because Roose took care to make the worst of them (and his own) to disappear. But they had uncovered enough of Ramsay´s terrible deeds for anyone to have nightmares for weeks. As he continued greeting the Lords alongside Robb, completely silent, he saw some known faces. Like Robett Glover, Greatjon Umber, Smalljon Umber and little Ned, and… damn, was it Lyanna Mormont? He thought he would never again see the fierce little girl who died shortly before him in the battle against the undead giant.

“Mas…”

“Call me Robb or Lord Stark if you want to use a title, but not master, Theon” Robb reminded him for the tenth time that day, whispering the instruction. Then he turned to his future goodfather, who had just arrived. “Lord Karstark, we are grateful to have you here. Wasn´t the trip too hard?”

“Would have been less had you had already put Bolton´s beast of a bastard down” Rickard Karstark answered, clearly disgusted. “An animal like that won´t change and it´s going to remain a danger even if he is sent to the Wall. Better to get rid of the problem roots and steam. Besides, I have had the most interesting chat with Lady Dustin…”

“Lady Dustin is coming? She didn´t answer to my summon, so I thought she remained in Barrowtown.”

“Apparently, she thought about refusing it out of bitterness, like every time before, but then she was told by her maester that the bastard of Bolton was the reason of this reunion and she changed her mind. Also left Barrowtown without even sending a letter, apparently.”

“I will prepare a room for her immediately. Theon…”

The Greyjoy gleefully took the chance to escape the Lords and went to find Lady Stark. She had been gleeful to have the man that terrorized and raped her precious daughter in hand, so much that she actually forgot to glare at him. The ironborn didn´t mind, he actually scurried away every time she did. He couldn´t get how Jon Snow could handle to receive those so many years and not turning into a scared little mouse. Perhaps it was because he hadn´t been Reek, Theon came to the conclusion, Reek was scared of everything. Thinking into Jon Snow made him wonder about Robb again. Perhaps his friend didn´t know it, or outright refused to acknowledge it, but his siblings were not the people he once knew. Theon would know, he had met the ones that remained before the Long Night. He also tended to hide a lot, merging with the walls of the castle. It was a habit he got as Reek, hiding like that would led to Ramsay paying less attention to him in favor of other… entertainment sources. Now he used it to avoid Lady Stark, but also helped him realize that things were worse than back when he died. Sansa was plotting, Bran was plotting, Jon was plotting… and he didn´t think they were plotting for the good of House Stark. Certainly not for Robb´s. That scared him.

After he delivered the message to Lady Stark, he returned to Robb´s side like a good little Re… Theon should do. He sat down in his place and tried not to tremble as Roose´s gaze landed on him. To calm himself down, he tried to remember the Walkers. They certainly were scarier than Roose Bolton could ever be. And he faced them, he could face Roose… or that was what he said to himself in a low voice to prevent himself from falling into his knees and begging for forgiveness. Fortunately, the Greatjon Umber´s voice interrupted that train in thought.

“Well!! What are we waiting for?!! Bring in the bastard!!”

“Yes” the softer voice of the widowed Lady Dustin followed the giant Lord. She also seemed delighted to be in Winterfell for a change. “Bring in the bastard”

Ramsay Snow was dragged into the room by a bunch of guards, glaring at whoever dared to look at him. His eyes stopped on his father for a moment, but then he dedicated Roose the same kind of rage filled stare that everyone else. His injuries had been treated by maester Luwin in preparation for this event. Even so, he walked with a limp. Theon started to actually shake when Ramsay stared in his direction. Robb´s hand suddenly found his own, reassuring him. That the heir to Winterfell was still able to care for him after everything that had happened in the past make him appreciate the boy more… also to curse himself more for having betrayed his friendship.

“We are here for the trial of Ramsay Snow, bastard son of Lord Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort” Robb said. “Lord Bolton, as your son´s crimes were committed on your lands and adjacent, you were surely informed of them. Or at least that young women from several villages were getting missing.”

“Of the missing smallfolk, I was aware. I thought it was a problem of banditry, so I sent some men to protect those roads that lead to the coast. I never realized the bastard had something to do with them.”

“Why the coast?”

“What else could they have done with a few smallfolk girls than take them to the other side of the sea and sell them into slavery. The Mormonts should know how much a girl costs there, I´m aware that Lady Mormont´s nephew made good coin in the flesh market.”

Lady Maege and her daughters hissed at this, wanting to bodily attack the Leech Lord. Robb lifted one hand to stop the bear ladies and continued to expose his case. He called several of the men that were with him during the arrest, including Winterfell´s own master at arms Ser Rodrick Cassel. When they described the scene that preluded the arrest, several of the lords put on a disgusted face. When the victim, a girl called Kyra, was brought to testify about her kidnapping and torture, several started to yell at the bastard and more than one demanded that he was gelded as a raper. Roose remained completely unmoving and silent during the whole procedure, only talking when directly addressed to deny any knowledge about his son´s activities. Even when it revealed that they had found other bodies when looking around the bastard´s hunting grounds and the mill he lived in.

“My Lords, we are all aware now of the crimes committed by this bastard, and I´m not one to deny others their justice, even to save my own blood” Roose started, wanting to finish with this. Ramsay was found, he had no use for him anymore. It was not worth saving him. “I think the only thing that remains for us to decide if it´s he is going to take the Black or face the sword.”

“That´s not all we found, Lord Bolton” he called for the maester to come forward. “When we were searching the mill, we found something more than the bodies of the missing girls. There were several bodies of males and foreign objects that seemed too costly for the bastard” he nodded to Luwin, who brought the first one. “Lord Bolton, do you recognize this?”

“It´s a cloak pin I personally gifted my son Domeric before he left for the Vale” the Leech Lord answered. “He must have given it to the bastard when they met.”

“It was found hidden with a stash of other valuables. And this plant was also found growing around the mill” he nodded again. “Maester Luwin?”
For the next half hour, the old schoolar gave the Lords of the North a complete explanation about the plant, simple so they could understand. Ricinus was known as a medicinal plant by the Citadel, useful to clean the bowels when you made the seeds into an oil. But if you used the seeds as they were found in nature, it acted as a poison that caused a strong bowels disease and harm some vital organs. After hearing a detailed description of the sickness that had taken the life of Domeric Bolton from maester Wolkan, Luwin concluded that it was most likely Ricinus poisoning. A poison he apparently used with some wealthy travelers that were on their way to the Dreafort and got lost, to rob them off their valuables. Roose simply stayed there without reacting, as if they weren´t talking about his son probably being murdered by his brother. Lady Dustin´s face had turned into one of triumph at hearing that.

“I knew it!! I knew that the bastard had killed my nephew!!” she screamed, pointing at Ramsay. “I didn´t know he had killed several other with the poison… but I always knew he had been the one to off Domeric!! Only to take what was his!!”

“This only adds more crimes to an already extensive list that would have landed the bastard on the executioner´s blade” Lord Bolton said, not letting Ramsay even open his mouth. “Murdering my heir…”

“Shut up, shut up, SHUT UP!!!!” Ramsay finally made himself hear. “DON´T TALK ABOUT THINGS YOU DON´T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT!! OR THAT OLD SHREW!!!” he was trashing like a beast in chains now. “I DIDN´T KILL DOMERIC!! I WOULDN´T HAVE TOUCHED A HAIR IN HIS HEAD!! IT WAS MY WHORE OF A MOTHER!! SHE KILLED HIM SO I BECAME YOUR ONLY OPTION FOR AN HEIR!!” he chuckled, looking even more like a madman. “She wanted to get out of poor, it was the only reason she birthed me… she always told me that… so I… when Domeric… I GRABBED HER BY THE HAIR AND CRUCIFIED HER!! THEN I SKINNED HER ALIVE!!” he sounded ecstatic as the Lords of the North became more and more disturbed. “FEED HER REMAINS TO THE PREGNANT BITCH WE HAD!! AND GAVE THE DOG HER NAME TO ALWAYS REMIND ME WHAT A BITCH COULD DO!! WHAT ALL OF THEM ALWAYS DO!! SO I HUNT THEM FIRST NOW, WITH OLD RED JEYNE BY MY SIDE ALWAYS REMINDING ME!!”

Everyone around was completely silent. If the tale of a son killing his own mother wasn´t disturbing enough, what said son had revealed was even more. At least Robb had begun to understand… and felt a small amount of pity for Ramsay. Was there ever any chance for him to be normal? With Roose Bolton for a father and Red Jeyne for a mother… apparently both of them were remorseless killers. He also begun to understand why the small chest of trophies they had found looked so old and dusty. Those were from Red Jeyne and the last one added to the collection was Domeric Bolton´s pin. But by killing the Bolton Heir, Jeyne had broken whatever little sanity remained in her son and made him become the madman that killed her. Her and countless other women. But why…
Theon watched his old torturer completely undone, mumbling to himself. Mumbling about Domeric, about how he was the only one that really cared about him. It reminded him of the several times he was thrown into Ramsay´s bed and... Domeric must have been very important for Ramsay. Enough for him to mention him several times when they were alone in the bedroom, memories Theon had tried to block no matter what. It was sickening, seeing Ramsay´s sick love for his own brother. But he would never hurt Domeric, who he had probably desire since before his death, so he started sating his monstrous urges on other people while imagining they were Domeric. After the Bolton Heir was dead, his sadism developed even more with every girl he hunted in his obsession to repeat the death of his own mother. It was really sick.

So it was no surprise to anyone that the Bolton bastard was marched outside of Winterfell right after his terrible confession and put into the headsman´s stone. The guards struggled to keep him in place as he screamed and trashed. Robb looked pale as he was handed a sword. The Heir to the North had always known that he would have to do it again eventually, but to actually do it… it never got easy. But he couldn´t show weakness in front of his Lords.

“In the name of Robert of the House Baratheon, the First of his Name, King of the Andals and the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, by the word of Robb of the House Stark, Heir of Winterfell, I do sentence you to die”

The sword fell down, the head rolled, Roose Bolton didn´t even bat an eyelash at seeing another of his sons die. The guards took the corpse of the criminal and went to bury him far away from anyone, in the middle of the wilderness. Theon felt something akin to breath again when he saw them taking Ramsay, at least until he saw Robb following them. He followed his friend like a good little Theon, finding him over the hole the guards had dug in the middle of the Wolfswood to get rid of the bastard´s body. Before anyone could say anything, Robb threw Domeric Bolton´s pin into the hole.

“Why did you do that?” he asked, puzzled. Robb despised Ramsay for what he did to his family in the past. So why was he having that gesture with him.

“Because… it´s stupid, but Domeric was like the only family Ramsay ever had. Yes, I know, he had a mother and a father and a creature, but… I think they never cared for him. Only Domeric… and I want to believe that they loved each other as brothers” he sighed. “I want to believe that if even a monster like Ramsay could love someone, love his brother, there is still hope for my family.”

“Robb…” Theon started, not really knowing how to say this. “It´s not the same.”

“I know, I only have to remember what he did to you to know the sick way that animal…”

“The problem with your family is that they hated each other. All of them”

“Jon doesn´t hate us, he revealed information about Ramsay because he wanted to protect Sansa, because he loves his little sister…”

“He wanted to ruin one of her plans to get rid of you” the ironborn explained. “She hates everything that it´s in her way to become a queen. And he knew you would jump at the opportunity to protect your family and put down the Boltons.”

“Stop it, she wouldn´t…”

“If you continue to be so hopeful, you are not going to last on this world” Greyjoy continued, grabbing his hands. “And I don´t want that, because… because you are my brother. It took me too long to realize that in the past and don´t want to lose you again. So please, learn quickly to doubt everyone… survive this time.”

“Let go of me” Robb took off after shaking Theon off. But it was okay. Because Robb had Theon now and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure he survived. Theon will protect Robb now.

-In King´s Landing-

Sansa´s tantrum when the news of the Bolton Bastard´s execution and Jon Snow´s escape from the Watch reached her ears was one of epic proportions. She screamed and threw things around. Septa Mordane was totally speechless when she saw such behavior. Her perfect Sansa would have never done something like that. Arya only smiled. Seeing her queenly sister as she truly was, as the redheaded Cersei Lannister she had become… she hoped it helped everyone to see the danger she was. But it didn´t matter to her. If her sister did something against House Stark, she would make sure to eliminate her. She had practice with that, after all.

Anyway, it can wait, the little girl said as she escaped the Tower of the Hand through one of the secret passaged. She had spent her first few weeks in the Red Keep devoted to knowing them like the back of her hand and to recover her abilities as an assassin. Now, she was finally confident that she could take care of whatever she faced. So she decided to take a few names from her list. While everyone thought she was evading the septa and dinner, she crawled through the keep´s passages and moved quietly until she was outside. Once in the city, she went straight to Flea Bottom and stole a change of clothes. Female peasant´s clothes. She quickly disappeared into an alley to put them on. Then located a girl, a local girl, emaciated… that would work.

With a new face on, she took the path for the Street of Silk. And, as she deduced, he was there. The knight that had killed Syrio Forel, her beloved swords teacher. Ser Meryn Trant, exiting one of Baelish´s brothels still in his Kingsguard armor. The assassin shrunk on herself and cried, calling for help on the street. She knew that he won´t resist tears. As she planned, the knight grabbed her and guided her towards a building he knew would be empty. The knight got out of his armor, not believing for a second that the little girl was a threat… until the dagger plunged to the hilt into his back. Meryn tried to turn around, but the poison on the blade was already working. Watered down Manticore Venom that she bought with another face, expensive but useful… and untraceable. The knight started to trash in agony and the dagger plunged into him another time. And another and another. Arya watched then on, watched as he suffered like he made all those girls suffer until he stopped moving. After he did, she walked away. She disposed of the face in the Blackwater Bay. She returned late to the Tower, where she was found by Jory and taken to her father.

“Arya, where have you been child?” Lord Eddard asked when she entered his office. “I was worried when dinner ended and you didn´t appear!!”

“You should know by now that I can take care of myself” she knew that she was hurting her father with that answer, implying that he hasn´t been able to protect her, but he better get used to that. “I´m no delicate lady.”

“Arya…”

“And you should pay attention to other things. Or haven´t you noticed how Sansa reacted to the news that Ramsay Bolton was executed by Robb?”

“I´m sure she was only reminded of what happened…”

“No, she was enraged that he didn´t get to use the Boltons to eliminate her own brothers and become Lady of the North, if not Queen, herself” the assassin started playing with a dagger. “Don’t look at me like that, I know what she is capable of, you don´t.”

“Your sister is not perfect, but she is not a killer or a kinslayer.”

“How are you so sure? Remember that she played a part in your arrest and beheading” Eddard opened his mouth to say that she was a little girl. “And if that doesn´t convince you, then let me tell you that she ordered the murder of Jon´s wife and baby daughter. Why do I know that? Because I was the assassin holding the dagger that killed them.”

“Arya…”

“That´s the problem, no? With the Gods returning us without our memories of the afterlife” she crossed her arms. “You don´t know your children anymore. The fastest you accept that, the less opportunity you have of being deceived by the monsters some of them became. Including me” she got up. “But rest assured that this monster´s daggers are not pointed towards you. You have her loyalty.”

Arya left the place, leaving her father deep in thoughts. She knew she was being hard with the man, but he needed to though up quickly or he might end up dead again. The assassin looked out of the window, wondering what her favorite brother was doing now. She didn´t have Needle anymore, she didn´t remember how a smile from him looked anymore. A true smile, not one hiding his hate, but one full of love. Like the ones he had offered her during their golden childhood…

“Kinslayers doesn´t deserve that smile” she reminded herself, getting into her room. Sansa´s tantrum had already ended, so it was quiet. Maybe she could sleep a bit.

-In another place-

“I have to admit, I wasn´t expecting this when you said we had another stop to make before going to the Queen” Ser Arthur said, doubtful. Only the dragon protecting them made this not an absolute lunacy. “You know this place well?”

“Yes” Jon said, his fingers caressing dusty tomes with strange glyphs. “I spent an entire year here in solitude after Sansa caught me beyond the Wall. The Queen in the North herself kicked the boat that sent me into this place away” he smiled. “If Morghul hadn´t appeared, I would have been worse than dead.” He chuckled. “She considered it funny, to get rid of me by sending me to my ancestral home… she knew that I wanted to know more about my past, my roots.”

“Wasn´t your ancestral home Dragonstone?”

“Before that fortress even existed, this was the place where my family originated. My true ancestral home…”

Jon walked through the cases and cases of books in the ruin that remained of Old Valyria´s once great library. He would be worried about the stonemen in other situations, but Morghul had already taken care of them with his fire. What was a true miracle was that these books survived the Doom, the assault of time and Morghul´s flame. It talked about the quality of Valyrian books… or magic. He arrived to the section where translations from Westerossi books laid, remembering fondly how he learned to read valyrian glyphs out of boredom. Strange, he learned to read before he learned to speak the language. In that section, he nearly tripped with something in the floor. A set of very known hair decorations, sharpened valyrian steel in the part that would be hidden by the hair, gold in the other. A few rubies and it would be perfect…

“Let´s go” he said as he put them in his pocket. “We have much to do before we can leave.”

Chapter Text

Jon walked through the desert streets under the watchful eyes of Morghul. The few stonemen that appeared in sight were quickly burned by the dragon´s flame, keeping their disease away from him and his companions. It was fine by the Prince, he didn´t have any desire to experience grey scale. He finally found what he was looking for. It looked almost as grand and ghostly as the Library, but far more sinister. This was where the warlocks of Valyria practiced their arcane arts. Which made it even more of a surprise that this small place survived the Doom. It and it´s contents.

“I´m going to need something to carry several jars that are located in the roof. Careful, they are very dangerous” he instructed the other two.

“What exactly are they, your Grace?”

“Wildfire”

“Wild… my Prince!!” Larence sounded alarmed. He had seen first hand what happened when Wildfire was used. Arthur too and looked horrified.

“Wished this wasn´t necessary, but it is. Also rest assured, this won´t be used as a weapon to invade Westeros” he crossed his arms. “Help me, the quicklier we finished, the faster we can move on.”

The two knights weren´t very confident, specially the one that served Aerys, but they helped anyway. As the jars of wildfire were placed in an old, but somehow very well-preserved chariot, Jon directed them carefully to another building. It was small, but had an architecture that reminded them a bit of the Sept of Baelor. They passed through an arch that in the past would surely have been closed by wooden doors. Soon they found why it reminded them to the other building… there were statues of the Fourteen Flames there forming a circle around what seemed like a pit. And over that thing was a chandelier… or what Arthur thought was a chandelier at first, but realized soon that it was a cage. Whatever was in it, was long gone, but the mosaic decorations in the walls signaled that…

“The Rhyonish Wars?” Arthur asked, examining the big depictions of warriors lifting water from a river… of ancestors of his. House Dayne might descend from the First Men mainly, but they had mingled with the Rhyonish invaders enough to feel something for them. And the person in front of an army… “The Second Spice War?”

“Very good, Ser Arthur” the dragonlord advanced, smiling. “This temple was made after the Second Spice War, when the dragonlords and paladins that conquered Chroyane died of greyscale, at least those that survived the initial flood, warlocks of Valyria were sent to investigate the outbreak. What they found was… worrisome for many. So they build the Temple of the Sorrows to try and contain the curse.”

“The Curse of Garin the Great?” the dornishman asked as their own paladin kneeled in front of the statue of a woman that should be Meleys, Goddess of marriage, motherhood and the homeland… and patron of the armies.

“Yes” Jon pointed to the cage that was suspended over the pit. “That is no normal cage. According to a book in the Library, it was recovered from Chroyane itself. It´s the very same one in which the dragonlords of old dragged Garin to his own city when he lost the war. The warlocks couldn´t find his body, so it was used as a replacement for the enchantment.”

“Greyscale still exists.”

“It´s been a long time since Valyria was abandoned and this temple was left open… besides, I never claimed it worked perfectly” the Prince looked at the pit. “But that is good. It actually works in our favor.”

Jon carefully poured the wildfire on the pit, helped by Arthur and Larence. The dornishman couldn´t help but stare at the statues of the Gods of Valyria, all life sized and holding some kind of weaponry, as if protecting their followers from Mother Rhyone´s curse. Arthur was about to ask his Prince what he was doing again when this one made him a signal. The three men walked to the top of the building, where a bell made entirely of Valyrian steel was placed. As if he knew exactly what he was doing, Jon pushed the thing. The sound it produced probably could have been heard in all the ruined city. Arthur´s hand flew to his sword as he saw stonemen appearing from every direction towards them. Morghul appeared again in that moment. It was a tricky thing, but they managed to climb onto his back without falling to their deaths. Jon saw from place as the stonemen continue to arrive and climb, trying to reach the dragon. More and more…

“May your curse bring new breath to those you snuffled” he said. “DRACARYS!!!”

Morghul´s flame set the small temple aflame. The explosion of wildfire was so virulent that Arthur couldn´t tell how it didn´t reach them, only the stonemen. As the temple disappeared in a flash of green, taking the victims of greyscale with it, the Sword of the Morning asked why they were doing this. The answer came as soon as it was safe to come back to earth. Where the pit of wildfire was placed, now laid a hole in the earth. And surrounding it laid the weapons the statues were holding until a few moments. It was unbelievable, they should have been melted along with the stone by the fire… Larence approached one and took it. From what Arthur could see, it was a two-edged sword for cutting with a tapered point and an ornate hilt of Valyrian steel with a big garnet on it. The same one Meleys was holding.

“Just as I thought” Jon said as he approached the hole the explosion left. The dornishman also approached, getting surprised about what he found. Stairs into the darkness. “Yes, as I read in those books about Valyrian magic…”

“What are you talking about, your Grace?”

“It´s simple” Larence joined the conversation, fairly sure of what he was talking. He was carrying a torch. “I read about it in Helaena´s books. Apparently, the valyrians thought that their Gods would protect them from curses sent from men, but weren´t so sure about curses from other gods, so to be sure, they added to their conjuring something that could drain the magic.” He frowned when he saw something. “But I couldn´t think of something that could…”

“I can”

“My Prince?”

“Did you know, Larence, that to keep the dragonlord families from gaining an upper hand over them, the Valyrian Imperial Family demanded they hand a yearly tribute of dragon eggs to them? Those eggs were left unhatched, untouched and unclaimed in their vaults… vaults that were only opened when the new eggs arrived… and on eight other occasions. One of which was when the Temple of Sorrows was build.”

“You mean?”

“Yes”

Finally, they reached the bottom of the place. The paladin walked around with the torch in his hands and marveled at the sight of unhatched dragon eggs in stone shelves. Dragon eggs should have been as dead as those that were given to Daenerys in her first wedding day, but now felt… alive. At least Jon could feel it. Cracking sounds started the feel the place. Larence put the torch in the direction of the sound and found a soft pink and white egg cracking as a newborn dragon made his way into the world. Three more followed, the rest of them remained alive, but unmoving.

“Don´t worry about them, they will hatch when they are ready” the Prince said as he grabbed the newborn dragons. He will need to fasten something to transport them on Morghul along with the weaponry from the Temple, but that can be arranged.

“Your Grace… but… why more dragons? Not that I don´t believe they are going to be useful, but Aegon conquered Westeros with only three.”

“And I plan to conquer an Empire in less than that. When my children come into this world, our power will need to be more than consolidated” he caressed one of the dragons in the chin. “Besides, we will need all the firepower we can to use against the White Walkers and their army once they reach us. Or didn´t you know what they did to all our dragons?”

“Yes, that was a disaster” Larense said, pushing his hair back.

“That is not going to happen again” Jon said as he walked to the stairs. “We should search around the place for useful things. Euron Greyjoy managed to find a complete set of Valyrian Steel Armor somewhere around the Burning Sea, we should find other things. And I bet that you would want another sword, Ser Arthur, your double wielding style was famous.”

“I don´t know if it would be the same with a Valyrian steel sword, my left hand was used to castle steel” the Sword of the Morning frowned. “but I think I can improve with Valyrian steel… perhaps you can give me one of those weapons?”

“Those weapons already have proprietors, but I think there is something for you somewhere… Oh, I have a better idea now” he walked towards through the ruined city. “Let´s gather some Valyrian steel from around. I know someone that could turn it into a perfect replica of Dawn but of this steel.”

“I hope it isn´t Gendry Waters.”

“No, someone else… and I´m very sure we are going to be able to put him on our side” he smirked. “It´s the same person that made my children´s and grandchildren´s sword” he caressed his wrists for some reason. “He would give the stag brat a run for his money, if not be better than him with time.”

“Your Grace…”

“Two identical swords work better than different ones.”

“Your Grace, I…” he looked around. “Where is Ser Larence?”

“Oh, he must have gone to the crypts of the paladins under the statue of Meleys. There is something in there that interest him.”

And the Prince was right. Larence Saeragyon returned to them a few hours later with a set of armor that looked a bit big on him. That didn´t seem to matter to him, he would fit it better as he grew. He also had a set for Helaena when he met her again. They were lucky that it was a tradition that paladins were buried with their armors and swords, which he also got for his wife. He felt a bit bad about robbing fellow paladins´ tombs, but they would have allowed that if it was to rebuild the motherland they had dedicated their lives to. He had also taken pins for capes in the form of a dragonglass dragon with a garnet in it´s claws. The symbol of Meleys to protect them both.

Jon smiled, then finished gathering his own stash of Valyrian steel. The Targaryen ancient stronghold had been lost to the sea during the Doom, so there weren´t any complete sets of armor with his House symbol for him. But that didn´t matter, he knew someone that would reforge the stash into armors fit for the Conquerors they were. He won´t have to wait for long now…

“Let´s go, we have much to do. The time to reunite with my darling Daenerys is coming closer”

Jon walked towards Morghul, ready to ride again. He took one look back to Valyria before they left. He would come back here one day. With Daenerys and the children. They will unbury what was left in the past and recover what they lost in the Doom. House Targaryen will rise again and with it the Valyrian Empire. And when that happens…

-In King´s Landing-

Arya was walking alone again in the corridors of the Red Keep. And why? Because she didn´t want to see Sansa, who was spending more and more time with other ladies, something that she couldn´t stand, and her father had taken to look at her in such a way that… at least he had taken her advice about approaching Baelish to gather money for more glass gardens in the North, in preparation for the famine that happened during Sansa´s reign. He also asked Robert Baratheon for permission to mine the dragonglass at Dragonstone and ship it North, so the Night´s Watch could be prepared. He didn´t trust the coin counter and utterly despised him, but he agreed to use him… and then he would be hers. And Cersei and Joffrey after him. Now, if only Jon could return to be who he was before the whole mess with Daenerys began, she could start to feel better.

As she walked around the place, she realized where her wanderings had taken her. The cellar was as dark as she remembered, with the monstrous skulls of the Targaryen dragons filling it, appearing almost as if they were monsters from some history coming out of the darkness. Her first instinct was to scream at them. If not for them… if not for their owners… Jon would still be her brother if they didn´t exist. If it wasn´t for Bran and his all viewing sight, if it wasn´t for Sam and his going through the registries of Oldtown, if it wasn´t for aunt Lyanna and her doomed romance with a damn dragon… but then she realized that she was being hypocrite. She had also followed her own path, wanted to follow her own path to become someone else, not the lady all her family expected her to be. She didn´t have any right to judge her aunt. Besides, if Lyanna hadn´t run off with her lover, then Jon wouldn´t exist. But she also had so much anger at them. Jon was her favorite brother, he should have remained her brother…

“You shouldn´t have come back” she said to the dragons.

The monsters didn´t answer, not like their alive peers. They scared her now and no, it wasn´t because of King´s Landing. No, Daenerys Targaryen wasn´t the woman in her nightmares anymore. No, her image in her dreams had been changed for the more terrifying image of her daughter, her only surviving daughter, flying the purple menace that was her dragon straight towards her as she burned down the city near Storm´s End. She could still picture the smile in her niece´s, her own niece´s, face as she burned Arya alive with dragonfire. It brought terror… but also so much guilt. And perhaps that was why she hadn´t tried to even protect herself. That was the niece that watched her aunt kill her mother and baby sister. The one whose child had been killed by her friend Gendry, Tyrion and her brother Bran.

“I can´t be here anymore”

Arya tried to find the exit to the cellar, not wanting to think about that part of the future anymore. Not about her nephews, nor her nieces nor the goodsister she didn´t like, the one that didn´t deserve her brother… the brother that she had lost because of her. She didn´t even realize that she had only gone deeper into the place, to a room where old painting sat, one against the other. Even with the poor light, she could see some of them. And could see… some similarities to the face she had known since childhood. Jon had things in common with nearly all of them. The eyes of the Rouge Prince, the nose of the Realm´s Delight, the high cheekbones of the Conqueror and the sad expression of the Prince of Spring and the Last Dragon… and when he had gotten older, Jon started to show a huge resemblance to the Prince of Dragonflies. Arya sighed. Perhaps this was one of the reasons why Jon was so angry with them. House Targaryen was a part of him, just as much as House Tully was of her. After Sansa and Bran rejected him, it had become important to him. Maybe if they showed him some acceptance, he would come back to them…

She started rummaging around the portraits, wondering for a second why the Baratheons hadn´t gotten rid of them. As the assassin did so, she came across several images of members of House Targaryen from even before the Conquest. She saw the face of The Last Dragon… Rhaegar… the Rouge Prince when young… Daemon… even the Dreamer… Daenys… and the Last Targaryen Queen… Rhaella… many more. She stayed until late, basking in the guilt she felt as she remembered the family that she could have had if she had not left, if she had not been so head on killing Daenerys Targaryen. She didn´t mind… she didn´t mind that Jon learned about his Valyrian heritage if he remained her brother…

“Where have you been?” Eddard asked as he watched his daughter enter to his solar. “Your sister didn´t know where you were and…”

“I was trying to avoid her”

“Arya, I know that you and Sansa had your… differences…”

“She made me kill my own niece, sorry if I can´t stand to watch her as often as you like. Don´t worry, I still won´t kill her, by the way. Only…” she lowered her head. “I´m sorry, it´s just been a rough day. And I thought that…”

“Darling… I won´t stop loving you because of a mistake you committed in the past” he approached, embracing her. “And your sister… I want to think that she can straighten up her way. Become a different person than in the past. If not… then I will be the one with the responsibility to stop her, not you” but you won´t be able to. “But first… I only want to believe she could still be a good person.”

“I said I won´t kill Sansa” for now, she added in her brain. “Is there something I should know? Baelish told you something about the money for the glass gardens?”

“No” the Hand of the King passed a hand over his face. “And I wasn´t able to stop that stupidity that was the Hand´s tourney… seriously, Robert doesn´t think about anything else but…”

“Lord Stark!!” Jory entered the solar, accompanied with a servant. “Urgent news!!”

“Lord Hand, you have been called to an emergency Small Council meeting. The King himself called for this one.”

“What happened?” Eddard asked, alarmed. Arya was still in his arms, watching everything carefully. What could have happened to make Robert Baratheon willingly call a Small Council meeting? Was it Daenerys? Ned seemed to realize that he was still holding her, because he released her. “It´s alright, sweetie. Jory will take you to your room and I will be back before you know.”

“Lord Hand…”

“I will come” he turned towards the servant as Arya was escorted away by Jory. “What has happened?”

“Valyria was illuminated by a mysterious fire, my Lord, and the King fears that it´s the Targaryen´s fault.”

Arya didn´t want to go away, specially not when the Targaryen Queen was finally moving. So, once Jory left, she got into one of the secret passages and exited the Tower of the Hand. Then went to another of the pathways that would put her right below the Small Council´s room. The sound of Robert Baratheon screaming reached her ears even before she arrived to the correct sector of the corridor. Apparently, he believed “the whore” was the culprit. Renly tried to make him see that if Daenerys had stepped a foot into Valyria, she was probably lost. Arya agreed. No one who stepped a foot there in the recent history had escaped. In the end, spying on that meeting was a loss of time, so she retired earlier. She was trying to return to her room when she heard whispers coming from one of the seemingly deserted solar.

“… how is it that he escaped?” Sansa, angry and trying to keep her voice down, practically snarled at someone. Arya took a peek. It seems that Tyrion Lannister had arrived in the middle of the night and the first thing he did was informing her sister. “Your task was to make sure the Wall became his last place.”

“Yes, but he had other plans. And we weren´t counting on Toregg Giantsbane and Lady Maegyr appearing” this seemed to take the redhead aback. “Yes, the Fourteen are back too.”

“Those…” the former Queen in the North kept her poise. “You heard the news about Valyria, no? Do you think…”

“They would be idiots if they ventured there”

“No… because there was one person who step a foot in there and came back alive to tell the tale… and lived for a long time without greyscale” she bit her lip.
“JON”

“Then we are in much troubles, my lady”

Arya returned to her room before they could notice her there. So her sister had sent their brother to Valyria, no? Well, it made sense that Jon had gone there, much more than for Daenerys. But it didn´t matter, no? in the end, the result was the same. It appears that she would have to choose which family members to keep alive again. And if the decision was between Jon and Sansa…

“There is still time” she told herself as she laid in bed to sleep.

-In Casterly Rock-

“YOU CAN´T DO THIS, TYWIN!!”

The Old Lion raised his head to see his sister. Frankly, he didn´t know why Genna was bothering him, he was doing her grandson a favor by giving him a bride of Lannister Stock, even if she was half a peasant. Besides, Lanna wasn´t that bad looking, a surprise considering that she came from Tyrion´s seed. He was also going to give them Castamere when Tywin Frey received his knighthood. And Genna, Emmon and all their brood could move there and live well there for the rest of their lives without having to ever return to the Twins.

“THE GIRL IS TOO YOUNG!! I WON´T ALLOW THIS!!”

On another note, Genna might have something against girls being betrothed or married too young. And Lanna was only ten and four, barely more than a girl even if she was flowered. She was also young, a pregnancy at that age might kill her… not that he cared, but Genna might. The woman, after all, had been betrothed to an idiot at the age of seven. Well, Lanna wasn´t being betrothed to an idiotic, incompetent Lord, his sister didn´t have anything to complain about. But she did, and he was expecting this, which was the reason why he arranged everything with Emmon and not Genna. The greedy weasel accepted everything.

“No, Genna” he said calmly. “This is going to happen, believe it or not. And if you don´t accept that this is going to happen, then you can start packing now because I will send you and your family save for Tywin back to the Crossing.” The woman paled. “Another thing?”

“How could you… Joanna wouldn´t have let you do this… and Tyrion…”

“Tyrion is the reason this is happening” Tywin didn´t want him interfering in his plans. Besides, punishing him for maintaining his whore like a queen was in order.

“Tywin, that girl could die if her husband gets her with child right now. Not even you would want that for your granddaughter” Tywin saw her with a sour face. He didn´t consider that girl his granddaughter… but she was a Lannister.

“Your grandson and my granddaughter will wed in a week, Genna” he stated. “But you might provide Lanna with moon tea after the bedding. And I will keep Tywin here until he earns his knighthood while you keep Lanna by your side, teaching her how to be a lady with the Septa. They don´t need to procreate until you consider they are ready.”

The Lannister Lady wasn´t convinced, but nodded, knowing that she didn´t have another option. That was what Tywin liked about Genna, she knew which battles to fight. So she didn´t push anymore and accepted that this wedding was going to happen. And it happened. It was a bit of a rushed affair for the granddaughter of Lord Tywin Lannister and only niece of the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but it was still rich. Lords from the Westerlands arrived to celebrate the wedding and the whole Lannister family was in the Sept looking their best. But no one looked happy. No one but Emmon and his idiotic sons. Tywin was neutral, while Kevan and Genna looked angry. Sandor Clegane also seemed unhappy, as he had grown close with the girl quickly. His little bird, he called her now… no one would doubt they were uncle and niece now. Lanna cried all the way to the altar, wearing a scarlet dress with golden lions that the seamstress adjusted at top speed and a hastily made maiden cloak adorned with golden lions and black dogs.

“You can cloak the bride and take her under your protection” the septon declared.

The groom replaced the maiden cloak with one embroidered with golden lions and twin towers his grandmother had prepared for him. A few vows later, Tywin Frey and Lanna Lannister were declared husband and wife. Everyone clapped, celebrating the future Lord of Lady of Castamere. The Old Lion seemed one of the few truly enjoying this. Especially when the bedding ceremony happened.

“At least you served for something, Tyrion” he said, lifting his goblet to the sky as Lanna, practically in tear, was taken by drunken lords to her wedding bed, followed by Genna.

Chapter Text

Robb was feeling nervous. And it wasn´t only because his mother was scratching the walls as the date of his father´s attack by the Kingslayer in the streets of King´s Landing approached, but because Theon had taken to follow him everywhere like some human shaped Grey Wind. Frankly, he didn´t know what those two were expecting. The attack shouldn´t happen because, one, his mother hadn´t gone to the capital as the assassination attempt on Bran also had been erased, and two, she hadn´t crossed Tyrion Lannister in the Inn of the Crossroads and taken him prisoner to the Eyrie. Also, Tyrion had taken extra precautions and taken a ship to King´s Landing, arriving earlier and avoiding the Crossroads, so he didn´t know what Lady Catelyn was fearing. As for Theon… he could tell he was worried since seeing the Boltons again, but… it wasn´t as if Roose was going to murder him again now that he was warned. The Leech Lord knew Robb and the other Northern Lords didn´t trust him after the debacle with his bastard, also he had gotten himself busy by arranging his own new marriage to one of Walder Frey´s many granddaughters… which one was it again? Waldina, Waldra, Mery…

“Walda, Fat Walda Frey” Theon suddenly answered, making Robb stop in his tracks. “Sorry, you were mumbling and I… sorry.”

“No, it… it was my fault” the Heir to Winterfell answered, surprise by his own familiarity tone. Since the execution, the Greyjoy and him had gotten close again. Not as much as before the betrayal, but… “And… what do you know about her? Is she…”

“Oh, no, not at all” the Ironborn said, remembering the soft, round lady that was brought from the Twins by Roose only to end up dying with her baby as Ramsay feed them to his dogs. “She is a little bit childish… more than a bit, I think, considering she was expecting Roose to actually love her…”

“I´m not sure he had the capacity to love”

“Me neither, but Walda didn´t seem to understand that… neither that Sansa was being forced into marriage or that Ramsay wasn´t going to allow her or her son to live… I mean, she brought her baby to that wild beast.”

“A simpleton, then”

“I wouldn´t go that far, but… she is not as smart as Sansa or Arya.”

“I can´t see Lord Bolton choosing someone like that, so why…”

“Oh, greed” Theon smirked. “Lady Walda told me that her Lord grandfather offered Roose his bride's weight in silver as a dowry, so he chose the fattest available female member of House Frey over ladies like Fair Walda or Roslin Frey. Frankly, I would also choose her over Fair Walda, who is not even a maid anymore, but Roslin…”

Robb nodded, wondering if his uncle knew the luck he had of not being saddled with the whore and getting Roslin. He didn´t knew her well, but according to Sansa, she was a nice woman who gave his uncle two sons before her untimely demise. They didn´t continue talking because Lady Catelyn approached in that moment, glaring at the Ironborn and saying that she wanted to talk to Robb alone. Theon seemed not to want to let him go alone anywhere, not even with his own mother, but the Stark sent him away. Then motioned for his mother to go with him to his solar. He served watered wine in silence as his mother prepared to speak… which she did not until they both were sat down and the goblets were half empty.

“I want to go to the Vale”

The Heir to Winterfell nearly choked on his drink. He lowered the chalice and stared at his mother in disbelief. Weren´t they planning not to do anything that they had done last time? Because… going to the Vale had been exactly the thing that his mother had done. Yes, he knew that this time she didn´t have Tyrion Lannister as her prisoner, and yes, he knew that his mad aunt Lysa wouldn´t cause any problems, at least not with her entombed in King´s Landing and far away from the Vale (The Vale Lords didn´t want her resting besides her husband and his family); but that didn´t mean it wouldn´t cause troubles. Also, Lady Catelyn didn´t have any reasons to go to the Vale anymore. At least not outside of her nephew Robin Arryn and her aged uncle Ser Brynden.

“You can write a letter to Lord Royce if you are worried about cousin Robert” Robb said, putting his goblet away. “And if you think House Tully is not well received in the Vale anymore because of what aunt Lysa did…”

“No, Lord Royce respects my father. I´m sure he understands that Lysa´s actions were her own and doesn´t hold them against us” Catelyn didn’t seem entirely sure. Perhaps she should write to Lord Yohn after all. “But that´s not the reason I want to go to the Vale.” She pulled some raven scrolls on the table. “Recently, my uncle, Ser Brynden Tully, has been sending me strange messages. I want to ask him why… also, I have reasons to think that he might be the same as us.”

“You mean that the Blackfish came back from the future?” Robb considered the petition. Ser Brynden had been a great military advisor and ally in his former life, also had lived more than he. Perhaps it would be good to open a line of communication. But sending his mother to the Vale was still dangerous. “Can´t you send a raven?”

“There are some things that should be talked face to face.”

“Is this about Jon?”

Catelyn raised her head, surprised. Robb didn´t know why, she used to make that kind of face nearly all the time when speaking about his bastard brother. After he had escaped from the Watch, her sneer had become even more pronounced… and he didn´t know why. Jon would never try to take Winterfell away from them, he was also NOT a rapist; so he didn´t see any problem in Jon becoming free to go down his own path. His mother was not the same opinion, obviously, believing that Jon had escaped to plan his next move to become Lord of Winterfell and the North. Robb had done everything in his power to tell her that she was being paranoid, but… then he remembered what Bran had showed him. He remembered and couldn´t help but doubt his own convictions. If only he knew more…

“I will consider this, mother” he answered. “But first, I will try to invite uncle Brynden here. I think it´s a better place to talk about… things like this.”

“He is the Knight of the Bloody Gate, I doubt he will leave his duty for a personal visit.”

“Even so”

The Heir to Winterfell left the solar with his thoughts still on Jon Snow. If only he knew what had made his brother, his practically twin, turn on his family and side with House Targaryen… he wished he could ask Sansa or Arya, because Bran would never answer him directly, but this was they were not here anymore and this wasn´t the kind of thing you could safely put on a letter. For a second, he wished he had the same abilities as Bran, that he could see through the Heart Trees and watch the past, present and future. And perhaps that was why he walked into the Godswood. That and because he needed to clear his thoughts. Cleaning his father´s sword, which he left in his hands for safety´s sake, seemed the right thing to do. At least if he was alone, which he was not.

“Lady Dustin, I thought that you had already left” he saluted the black clad woman, who turned around to sneer at him. “Are you praying, my lady?”

“I´m thanking the Gods for their justice” she answered, looking back at the tree. “I always thought that the bastard killed Domeric… now I know the truth.”

“Do you regret it?”

“Hating the bastard? No. He avenged my nephew, yes, but he didn’t let me have the satisfaction of seeing his killer die. Maybe if he had let me watch that Jeyne woman, his wretched mother, die, I would have stopped hating him, but now… no” she smirked. “And I´m not shedding a single tear for that whore. Why should I?”

“I wouldn´t either… if someone had killed my nephew…”

“Good, you are not as big a fool as I thought” Barbrey started to walk away from the weirwood. “I only wanted to see more of the castle that would have been mine had Brandon not died.”

Yes, Robb had heard about that before. About Lady Dustin and her stubborn belief that his uncle Brandon would have married her instead of his mother had he survived. He wasn´t so sure and neither was his father. Eddard had told them histories about their uncle and he was a known ladies man. He had probably promised marriage to lots of women just to bed them. Even so, he pitied the Lady of Barrowtown. His father shouldn´t have left her husband´s body in Dorne, but brought him home just like he did for Aunt Lyanna. Perhaps they wouldn´t have such a strained relationship with the Dustins and the Ryswells if he did so.
The Stark heir walked towards the Heart Tree just as he did when he was praying, putting a hand over the trunk. He closed his eyes, but nothing happened. A wave of frustration went down his body. What was the difference between him and Bran? Why could he see all those things, watch the history unfold in front of his eyes, and Robb could not? Why had the Old Gods blessed him and only him with that ability? He was a warg too!! He should be able to do this!! He silently, but fervently prayed to the Gods of his forefathers to answer at least one of his questions, to show him what happened to break his family apart… suddenly the ground gave up under his feet. He screamed as he fell… only that… he wasn´t falling. He was… in the… Godswood of Winterfell? But… this wasn´t… he turned around and saw an elderly woman kneeled in front of the Heart Tree.

“Mother?” he asked. If Lady Catelyn had survived the Red Wedding, she surely would have looked like that as she got in her years, with her red hair greying, but retaining the deep blue of her eyes. “Mother, what are you…” he couldn´t touch her. “This is… like Bran, no? and you… you are not mother, no? Sansa”

The old woman that was his sister didn´t answer, only continuing with her things. She couldn´t see him or notice his presence, apparently. Well, he was not truly here. The sound of footsteps made him turn, ready to protect his sister. The woman seemed startled too. And it was not in vain, because the person who was approaching had silver hair and the deepest purple eyes he had ever seen. So deep purple that they looked black in the light of the Godswood in the sunset, or it would without the torch Sansa was using to light herself. Robb was surprised at finding himself recognizing that face. Rhaegar Targaryen, Daenerys´ son.

“You know, I have always imagined this place. My father used to tell me about it and Winterfell when I was younger… then you killed my mother and all mentions of his life here ended. Anyway, I wanted to see them, to feel… connected to my own family history.”

“I would say you are plenty connected… your Imperial Majesty” Sansa practically spat, glaring at the man. This didn´t seem afraid, even if he was in the heart of enemy territory. “Why are you here? I´m sure it´s not to talk to the Gods… Gods you don´t believe in, no? I´m sure he doesn´t worship them anymore.”

“No, he doesn´t. But that doesn´t mean everything is forgotten” he sighed. “Isn´t there a way for this to end without destruction and bloodshed, your Grace? You already know that your own subject rebelled against you. The Glovers, the Mormonts, the Manderlys… all of them collaborated with us to dethrone you.”

“And you and your father jumped at the idea of putting your blood in Winterfell”

“Of course not!! The last thing he wanted was for any of us to return to this place!! But you didn´t care, no? Or at least Brandon didn´t… and now we are fighting this dammed war that we tried to avoid” he sighed. “But I don´t want to shed more blood. Or to have to destroy his childhood home… because I´m sure he will regret it later” he stared at the Queen in the North. “Please… Aunt Sansa.”

“You know, you are just like him when he was young. You might not have his coloring, but… you are truly Jon´s son” if his mouth wasn´t already on the floor, Robb would have opened his mouth wide. “You are weak just like him. That´s why you are manipulated easily by people you think love you. People who you think are family…” Sansa lunged, a dagger in hand, but was rejected by a sword. “What…”

“I´m a bit naïve, I admit it, but not an idiot. And coming here without a weapon would have been idiotic. Also…” Rhaegar slapped the woman. “Don´t dare to talk about my father like that. He is a greater man than you are a woman.”

“That bastard? He is…”

“Well, he is not the one that allowed his people to starve as he lived comfortable, isn´t he?” his nephew, because that was what the Targaryen Emperor was, Robb´s nephew stared at her. “It´s because of him and the love he used to have for you that I´m here, offering the woman who was once his sister a way to keep her life despite everything. Please take it.”

“I won´t give you Winterfell, boy, nor my crown. They are mine… and you and the traitors are going to…”

“You have no way to win this war, your Grace, I´m offering you the only way to walk away with your life. Please take it, aunt.”

“Try, boy. I´m going to open your throat… just like I did with your mother.”

Robb extended his hand, hoping he hadn´t heard what he had heard. He didn´t want to believe that his sister had ordered the death of her own goodsister. He was also struggling to come to terms with the fact that his bastard brother, Jon Snow, had married the Princess Daenerys Targaryen. It was just that… what?! How had that happened?! He always believed that he would get the better match, but it appears that Jon got it. It was so surreal that he didn´t even realize when the floor opened under his feet. The image in front of him changed again, morphing into one of a port city. Robb wasn´t sure where he was, but it wasn´t the North anymore. And it was clearly under attack. He looked around, watching everyone running and wondering if he should too, even if he wasn´t really in danger. Suddenly, he saw a woman running, covering herself with her hands. Her expression was fear, and, despite the wrinkles and greying hairs, he knew who she was.

“Arya?” he asked as his sister looked around for a safe place.

“My Lady!!” a man ran towards her. “run, my Lady!! It´s the Nightmare!! The Nightmare has come!!!”

A loud roar was heard as a purple and lilac dragon appeared in the sky, showering everything in it´s flames. Buildings burned and started to fall. Arya ran and Robb followed, but not to a safe place, but to one of the few towers still intact. She started to look around, searching for the dragon. What was she planning? She certainly couldn´t believe that she could slay a dragon with her sword. The beating of wings approaching warned them of the monster coming and only then Robb realized that there was someone on it´s shoulders. An armored someone… a woman? She was… beautiful and silver haired… and had the same deep purple eyes as Rhaegar. Apart from that, he didn´t find more likeness, but he did to a picture he had seen of a book of Princess Rhaenys, the Queen who never was.

“Niece…” Arya said, looking at the dragonrider with her eyes wide.

“Dreamfyre, Dracarys!!!!” she ordered and the world became an inferno of flames.

When Robb opened his eyes again, he was back in the Godswood. As he got himself up from the floor, the Heir to Winterfell realized that he and Grey Wind were not alone anymore. Bran and Summer were there, staring at them. For once, he didn´t have that apatetic expression, but one of interest.

“What did you see, Robb? What had they showed you that they didn´t allow me to see?”

“Sansa fighting for her life against the dragons… and Arya being killed by a purple one. Apart from that” he tried his best to keep the secret. “Nothing at all.”

-In King´s Landing-

Sansa allowed the maid to comb her hair as she rummaged around her jewelry box, searching for something to wear to the tourney. She wondered for a second why the tourney of the Hand had been postponed so much this time, but then she remembered something Cersei had mentioned during one of their tea sessions. Apparently, her father had refused to be present for his own tourney and pressured the King into postponing it until the money for the glass gardens was secured. Of course, that left them in even more of a debt with House Lannister, but the important thing was that they would have food for the winter, preventing the famine that was a stain in her reign, and enough dragonglass to arm the entire Night´s Watch. Humm, her father wasn´t smart enough to plan something like that… probably Arya´s idea.

“My lady, you look wonderful” the maid said as she finished with her hair. She looked mature and pretty, but without losing her northern simplicity.

“Of course” Sansa said. “I always do”

As she put on amethyst earrings, she wondered if she and Arya could escape during the tourney and make Gendry Baratheon a visit. He must still be a smith in the Street of Steel, so he probably could take some orders. She admitted that the bastard lord´s work were mostly pieces of art. And she wanted something like that. Arya could order a sword or whatever assassins think are needed. What she was sure is that she couldn´t keep using her usual, simple childhood jewelry, the other ladies would consider her poor if she did. And at least one of the sisters had to keep the reputation of House Stark up.

“My Lady, are you ready?” Jory asked as he knocked on the door.

“Yes, let´s go”

The redhead walked with the knight until she reached the Septa. Her father and sister were also there, along with Jeyne Poole. Poor Jeyne, she thought to herself as the other girl parroted happily during their walk to the tourney grounds, she didn´t know what could happen to her if she remains here. Finally, they reached the stands. They walked to where the royal family was sitting and presented their respects. Cersei looked exceptionally beautiful that morning, beaming one would say… happier than Sansa ever remembered seeing her. Perhaps it was because her father and uncle had come for some reason, but she was starting to believe there was more behind that smile.

“Oh, dove stay with us a bit more. Joffrey hasn´t stopped talking about how beautiful you are and how sorry he was that he grabbed you so hard. It´s just that… he is not used to deal with ladies.”

“There was no permanent damage, your Grace” Sansa answered with a smile. “But I need to help the Septa keep an eye on my sister. Maybe during the banquet, I can share a dance with Prince Joffrey?”

“That would be marvelous, dove… no, my son?”

“Yes, mother”

The former Queen in the North smiled widely, thinking of ways to get rid of Joffrey that night. Or to use that opportunity in her favor. As she sat down in the stands, a well-known shadow sat down behind her. Lord Stark tensed in that moment, clearly trying to contain himself and not giving Baelish the black eye he deserved for stalking his daughter. Sansa only continued to watch as knights clashed in the field. Arya seemed unconcerned with everything, but her hand was placed in a very specific place, as if to reach below his skirts and grab the dagger she knew her sister kept on her all the time.

“Oh, Jaime Lannister is putting on an effort here” Littlefinger suddenly said, whistling when he saw the Kingsguard ridding against Lord Bryce Caron. “I guess he wants to leave a good impression, now that he is leaving the Kingsguard.”

“Really?” Sansa was interested now. Tyrion had mentioned that his brother remembered… was he trying to wrest control of the Westerlands from Tyrion? Or was he only being a lovesick idiot chasing Brienne? “I thought you couldn´t get out of the Kingsguard like that?”

“Normally, there isn´t. But considering how far in debt the Realm is to Lord Lannister and the offer he made to forgive a lot of it if his son is released from his vows…”

“Which must be a great relief for you, Lord Baelish. As a master of coin, you are responsible for the finances of the Realm” Eddard cut the conversation, putting his arm around his daughter´s shoulder. He didn´t like to have the mockingbird so close to her, not with how much she had suffered in his hands.

As the tourney progressed, she lost interest bit by bit. Jaime Lannister was putting on a lot of effort and now she could see why. Her eyes landed in the awkward figure of Brienne among other nobles of the Stormlands, wearing a dress that certainly didn´t fit her in the colors of her house. By her side, Lord Selwyn watched everything carefully, as if he was evaluating something. Strange, they hadn´t been there last time. Finally, Jaime was unhorsed by Sandor Clegane, who seemed to also be putting a lot of effort. That interested Sansa. Why? She was sure that she and Sandor hadn´t known each other yet, and the Hound shouldn´t have anyone else dear to him. So why was Sandor putting on such an effort? She didn´t have to ponder much longer, as Loras Tyrell and Gregor Clegane clashed. As before, the mare in heat managed to throw off the Mountain´s stallion and the monster fell. Sansa watched bored as the rabid dog tried to murder the Knight of Flowers and Sandor fought his brother, saving the idiot´s life. As before, the Hound was declared the winner and receive the prize, except that this time he accepted the crown of flowers that was also offered to him.

“Hummm? Didn´t he deny it?”

“Yes, this is much unusual” Littlefinger suddenly interested. “I didn´t know the Hound had someone to name Queen of Love and Beauty.”

They watched as Sandor did his walk of victory and put the crown of flowers on his lance. Some wondered if he was about to crown Queen Cersei, as daughter of his liege lord and highest-ranking lady in attendance, but he passed the royal box and went to the Westerlands section, putting the crown in the lap of a young lady of golden hair sitting next to Ser Kevan Lannister. Tyrion´s face became one of horror when he saw her, an expression Cersei seemed to be enjoying the fullest. Her green eyes were shinning like emeralds at how much she was enjoying her little brother´s terror. Sansa only looked at the young girl in interest. She had never seen Lady Lanna Lannister before, but rumor has it that she was a pretty girl. And she indeed looked pretty, but not stunning like her aunt Queen Cersei or her future cousin Lady Jocelyn of Tarth.

“Dear niece, I will name you Queen of Love and beauty” Sandor declared. The girl stared at the crown, as if not knowing what to do with it.

“Oh, smile, dear niece” Cersei said, her words sweet but tone dripping poison. “You are being crowned for the first time, better enjoy it. Tyrion” she turned to the Imp. “Aren´t you going to compliment your daughter?”

“You will look beautiful on it, Lanna, put it on” she did and everyone applauded. Of course, they only did out of courtesy. There were surely going to be some nasty rumors going around by the time the banquet started.

Sansa was right. She listened carefully as she ate and dance. There were a lot of people gossiping about the Imp´s daughter, who was also the Hound´s niece. They were laughing at poor Lanna, who was still wearing her crown of roses and dancing with her husband, looking scared out of her mind. Some gossiped about her having inherited her father´s hidden tail, others were even more cruel and said something about her or a child of hers soon dethroning Brienne of Tarth as the ugliest maiden in Westeros. Tyrion gritted his teeth and tried to look as if he didn´t want to have his crossbow with him now to kill his father again. Cersei smiled so much and looked so happy despite the servant girl now sat on her husband´s lap. Suddenly her expression changed, her mood totally soured. Sansa smiled, noticing why. Jaime Lannister and Brienne of Tarth danced around the floor, looking like the bear and the maiden fair… and so awfully in love that it hurt. She guessed that there would be a new Lady Lannister soon.

“The Evenstar and my father are already talking about it” Tyrion said, serving himself another cup of wine. “Brienne is going to do him good… and keep him away from Cersei.”

“It´s good to see a match for love from time to time… especially considering how uncommon they are” she watched as Lanna awkwardly danced with Tywin Frey. “How is she?”

“My father could have paired her with worse that little Ty” the Imp gritted his teeth. “But don´t mistake my words, my lady. Sooner or later, Lord Tywin is going to find that there are worse ways to die than pierced with arrows in the privy” Tyrion glared at his father. “After all, what goes around, comes around… your Grace.”

Chapter Text

Since the moment he received that vision, Robb had been trying to do so again. It was difficult, as Bran seemed to have taken permanent resident in the Godswood. His eyes seemed to be always focused on the tree, muttering something his older brother couldn´t understand but had learned to fear. For the first time, he regretted not having taken Old Nan up when she offered to teach them the language of the First Men, because he was sure that was the one Bran was using with the weirwood. Which was weird, as he was pretty sure that his brother hadn´t learned it either. Then again, during his time dead, Jon had learned High and Bastard Valyrian, so it wasn´t that weird now that he thought about it.

“Robb, it´s been enough” Catelyn interrupted him as she entered the solar where her son was revising some documents. “Brandon refuses to listen to me when I told him to go to his lectures!! You have to intervene!!”

“You realize that he is a grown man with powers granted by the Old Gods, no?” this was making the Young Wolf wonder if it hadn´t been better to have his mother confined to a room during his tenure as Lord of Winterfell. “If Luwin has been telling you something, perhaps I should talk with him…”

“Robb, he could be the High Septon himself and I would still force him to go to his lesson” she continued. “I have nothing against him spending his spare time trying to talk to his Gods, but he was without education since he was young. He needs to go to the lessons with the master and master at arms.”

“Alright, I will talk to him” Robb finally gave up and went to the Godswood, followed faithfully by Grey Wind and Theon. He found Bran there, angrily speaking in the old tongue. “Bran…”

“Mother still wants me to go to those lessons?” he raised an eyebrow. “Fine. It´s not as if staying here is helping me in any way.”

As Brandon got away, surprising Robb by how easily he had given up, the Young Wolf faced the weirwood. He wondered for a second why it hadn´t answered his brother, wasn´t he the oracle of the Old Gods? The Lord walked to the trunk, touching it. He didn´t know what he expected to happen, perhaps nothing or what happened last time, but he felt a bit relieved when the first was the one that occurred. As much as he was curious about the future his siblings had left behind, he wasn´t really sure anymore if he wanted to know what had happened between his brother Jon and other siblings. To know that Sansa could have ordered the death of her own goodsister was enough to discourage him.

The rest of the day happened in a normal way. Brandon did as he was told and went to Luwin´s lessons. He wasn´t that interested, but it was the same for everything these days. The maester didn´t take offence to that or to Rickon´s aggressive mutters in the Old Tongue and continued teaching them. The youngest Stark could be offended by the portrait of the Skagossi his teacher offered, but at least he learned. Brandon… he wasn´t sure. Robb sighed when he received the report and decided that it had been enough for a day. He noticed it was already dark when he got out of his solar and went to his room. After he kicked Theon out to his own room, he got into bed and slept. In his dreams, he returned to the Godswood, but he was not alone. A young boy was there, right before the weirwood. He had silver hair and seemed to be crying the same red liquid as the weirwood. The boy extended his hands towards the Stark, showing that his wrists were also leaking blood, and tried to speak…

“No… go back…”

The gurgles that came out of his mouth made Robb took a step back. He fall through the same kind of pit that the last time, landing on somewhere he didn´t recognize. Wherever he was, it was not the North anymore. He wondered if he was back in the Stormlands, like in the vision of Arya, but this didn´t look like anything he had read in a book about it. The terrain was… was known in some way. His eyes opened when he realized that he was in the seat of his old wife´s family, the Crag. Or at least near it.

“So this is the seat of the House Westerling… or it was” a voice made him turn. The source of it was a man with silver hair in a ponytail that was very familiar. “Why Robb Stark lost a war to wed a girl from this place I would never understand? Bed perhaps if she is pretty enough, but wed…”

“Rhaegar?” Robb asked as his nephew said something he couldn´t begin to understand.

“Daemon!!”

The Lord Stark turned around when he heard that voice. Jon, the much older version of him, was walking in black ridding clothes that seemed of better quality than anything he had ever worn. He realized it then. Arya had told him that Rhaegar had a brother, but never mentioned that they were twins. This must be the second son. And he was accompanied with an army and a big serpentine white dragon with golden scales.

“Easy, Arrax, easy” his younger nephew said as he opened his arms. “Kepa!! I wasn´t expecting you. Thought you would be in the North with my brother or helping my sister lay waste to the Stormlands. Or…” his eyes held a naughty glint now. “was watching the burning of you childhood home too much for you and you want to finally retire?”

“You are overstepping your boundaries, young man” Jon answered, crossing his arms. “And well? Why isn´t the Rock a pile of molten stone and gold already? Why lose time taking the Crag when you had a free way through Lannisport?”

“I would have, but the ladies in my company needed to have some place where to change on the way, so… who am I to deny them that?” he smirked. “You really didn´t believe we need your help, no? I have done enough to show you that, unlike my brother, I don´t need my father holding my hand.”

“Perhaps not in war, but in other things…”

“What are you trying to say?” Daemon asked before his eyes widened. “No!! We are not having this conversation anymore!!”

“You can´t blame me for trying, you and your wife hadn´t even lived in the same house for the last three years. People are starting to talk, Daemon, and not precisely in a good way. Some are even saying that you and Tahaegor…” Jon sighed. “Look, if it´s that way, I wouldn´t say anything or demand that you finished it or love you less, but please, whatever you have, do it behind closed doors. Behave when you are in public and convince Arianne to…”

“We did our duty, leave us both alone” the younger man rolled his eyes. “Besides, you don´t know me at all if you believe that I have something with my best friend. Even Rhaegar has realized that I don´t really fancy anything!!” Jon put a face that clearly said he found that difficult to believe. “Look, it was you that names me for a notable rouge. Did you really expect me to behave?”

“My mistake then, believing that the Rouge Prince come Again would be anything but a rouge” Snow crossed his arms. “So? Why haven´t you and your troops departed for Casterly Rock already? The Lannisters could be putting scorpions on their walls as we talk. Or escaping towards King´s Landing.”

“I already told you, the ladies needed somewhere and time to change” he smirked. “And here they come.”

“Grandfather!! I didn´t know you were coming!!”

Robb turned around in synchrony with Jon and the first thing that came to his mind was… Jon made beautiful girls. The first one was obviously the youngest of the ladies, also the most Stark like. Her skin color was pale, framed by chocolate brown hair and grey eyes, but there was where the similarities ended. She was prettier and finer than any northern beauty could be, almost as if someone had taken the basic northern features and sculpted them into perfection. Her blue dress with silver thread only enhanced this, as well as tiara she was wearing, adorned with sapphires arranged in the form of roses. Winter roses. The second was dark skinned, more than the other two. Her thick black hair and haunting purple eyes made Robb think of Ashara Dayne. He took his eyes away from her as fast as he could, because his grandniece was wearing an orange dress in the dornish fashion that showed so much cleavage that he wondered how Jon could allow her to wear it. She wore a golden band with the Targaryen three headed dragon and the Martell sun and spear in her brow. The third one was obviously the oldest, but not by much. She was the typical valyrian beauty, with a cascade of long, straight silver hair, hold only by a thick braid of her own hair, decorated with rubies. Her dress was a dream of red and black silk that showed off her curves and full breasts without really showing them.

“Oh, my girls, you look wonderful!!” Daemon said before Jon could utter a word. Whatever his nephew was, he clearly loved his daughters. “Lyanna” he kissed the one in the dress. “Dyanna” the orange dressed one now. “You too, dear niece.”

“Really. You should have been burning Lannisport an hour ago and you stopped at the Crag… only for dramatics´ sake?” the three looked unapologetic. “Seriously, why I bother with your line, Daemon?”

“Because Aelinor and Aelora are good and you still have hope for Aurion?”

“Ajá” he turned towards the last girl, who seemed a little bit ashamed. “And you, Alyssa? What is your excuse?”

“I´m not heiress nor a prospective Empress?”

“Right…”

Robb was calm then. He believed that he was going to have a nice, soft vision about the family his brother had formed… without them. Why? Maybe the Gods were showing him what his siblings had thrown away or lost when they decided to throw Jon away. As five dragons took off from near the Crag, he realized it was not. Specially when he seemed to follow them without wanting. Daemon and the girls mounted four. He couldn´t see the rider of the last monstrous mountain of a dragon, but whoever it was, he knew he didn´t want to encounter it. The Stark gaped in horror as he watched the dragons unleash their wrath in Lannisport and then Casterly Rock. When the draconic war machines were finished, of the ancient castle only remained a pile of molten rock. Not even a Harrenhal, but only… rock. Lyanna Targaryen then threw a lance from her blue dragon´s back once the stone had cooled enough. It landed on the rocks, a letter on the other extreme.

Robb was rudely pulled out of the vision in that moment, returning to his body. Immediately, he realized that his body was being shaken with force. The Young Wolf opened to see his attacker was none other than the Three Eyed Raven. And that, completely different to the usual, his face was contorted into an expression of rage. Even when Robb had woken up, Brandon continued shaking his body, Summer keeping Grey Wind from mauling his little brother and a pair of menacing ravens stopping Theon on the door.

“What did they show you?!!” he started to shout once he realized the older Stark was awake. “What did they show you that they refused to show me?!! ME, who was the most powerful greenseer!! They dared to try and banish ME from their power!! So WHY are they showing you things and WHAT did they show you?!!!”

“Bran, can you… shit!!... can you stop?!” the other finally stopped shaking him. “Thank you” he sat down in bed. “They didn´t show me much, okay? Only that… we have really beautiful grandnieces.” Brandon gave him a weird look. “What?”

“Robb, I´m going to tell you now a piece of wisdom that my Lord Hand got after much suffering and loss” the former King of the Six Kingdoms breathed in. “Damn dragonesses aren´t worth it.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that Jon´s daughter and granddaughters are balls of raging inferno that will turn you into a pile of coil. They might be nice to look at, but keep your hands away from them if you want to keep them. And no” he shook his head. “they don´t need their fathers or brothers or grandfathers to do so.”

-In another place-

Everything was going so smoothly that Tywin began to wonder why he didn´t thought about Brienne of Tarth before. It should have been a possibility, he knew Lord Selwyn rather well, even respected him as a warrior and as a Lord. He would have no qualms about joining his House with his. Besides, her being heiress meant that Tarth would become a Lannister foothold in the Stormlands. It was even more advantageous than the old betrothal he was planning for Jaime with Lysa Tully, especially considering what happened with the Lady in question. The madwoman would have made even more of a mess than Tyrion´s whore as Lady of the Rock.

“I think they look nice together” Selwyn said, smiling. Apparently, he considered his daughter´s happiness over other advantages of the marriage instead of a bonus. “I have talked to Brienne too and we have both decided that a betrothal should be made.”

“I agree” Tywin said.

“That if Ser Jaime is allowed to leave the Kingsguard”

“I have already talked to the King and his Hand. Lord Eddard is willing to help me free my son from his vows in exchange for pardoning a great amount of the debt the Iron Throne currently owes me.”

It had been a great help that Lord Stark had that big glass garden project along with that dragonglass stupidity that he could not entirely understand. The glass gardens were common sense, a preparation for what the maesters were beginning to call the longest winter in centuries. The North was the coldest Kingdom, so each castle having a glass garden that could produce food during winter would be a necessary prevention for a long winter, so he understood why Stark wanted more gold in the Iron Throne´s arcs, as it was financing his project. Also, less of a debt meant that the debt with the Lannisters would be settled in less time, giving them less power over the Realm… if Robert´s spending wasn´t out of control. As for the dragonglass, he wasn´t sure what to think. Maybe it was just a flight of fancy.

“Then we only have to wait” Selwyn grabbed his own glass, turning his eyes towards where his daughter was having tea with Ser Jaime. “As for Brienne´s dowry, I have three hundredth dragons for such an occasion apart from a trade deal that would benefit us both.”

“It´s a nice dowry” Tywin answered. It wasn´t as if he needed the gold, but he couldn´t help but notice that it was a big sum considering the Evenstar´s holdings. Perhaps he had gathered it to sweeten the marriage to a new prospective groom of his daughter´s. “And the trade deal too, considering the wealth Lannisport could bring to the Sapphire Island.”

“So we both agree” the other sighed in relief. If not for the Kingsguard issue, betrothing his daughter was easier this time than ever before. “And there is also something else I would like to talk about. As you know, Brienne is my only child and heiress and I have been… lenient with her. She is not the common lady.”

“I´m sure we will come to appreciate some of her skills. As for the others… I have no problem with her practicing with her sword in private, but won´t let her ride in war.”

“Me neither” Selwyn shook his head. “What I wanted to talk about was the issue of the children. I would like for one of them to come to foster in Tarth. I´m not going to ask for the oldest son, I know that Ser Jaime is your heir too, but a second or third child should come by the age of ten to learn to manage the Evenhall and it´s holdings.”

“It´s acceptable” like Tywin said, a foothold in the Stormlands. And one of his grandchildren having his own holdings.

They continued talking about the details, so when Jaime was dismissed from the Kingsguard everything was settled and the marriage could take place during the year. If everything followed as planned, he would have his heir back and married fast, with more grandchildren to continue his legacy in their way. Cersei would certainly be angry. It was not a secret that she had wanted one of her own children, namely Tommen, to inherit the Rock. Tyrion would also be a pain, but would remain quiet, as his whelp was still within Tywin´s reach. As for Cersei, he would deal with her, reminding her that she was a Baratheon now, as well as her children. And a Baratheon wouldn´t inherit the Rock.

“Father” Tyrion said. The Imp apparently had been waiting for him in the solar. “I wanted to talk to you about my daughter and her marriage…”

“It´s settled and consummated, Tyrion, there is nothing to talk about” the dwarf opened his mouth in horror. “Don´t look at me like that. I allowed Genna to handle everything after the bedding, so your daughter got moon tea after the bedding. I also gave her and little Tywin Castamere to live in.”

“Castamere?”

“Whatever I think of you or your half peasant get, she is still a Lannister and of my blood. I couldn´t give her away without an according dowry” Tywin rolled his eyes. “And now that you are a widower, we should talk about you getting married again.”

“Me?” the father enjoyed his son looking so cornered. The Imp believed himself so smart… but he had walked into the Lion´s den now.

“Yes” he sat down in his desk. “I have received some interesting proposals here in King´s Landing and, now that Jaime is officially betrothed or at least close to it, you should too. Lady Tanda Stokeworth offered her daughter Lollys as your bride. It would be a good match, considering that she is her sister´s only heiress and Falise Stokeworth is barren.”

Tyrion´s look of horror at the prospect of marrying Lollys Stokeworth made Tywin´s day. He left the solar in a good mood, ready to deal with Eddard Stark and the King to settle Jaime´s dismissal from the Kingsguard once and for all. He would even sweeten up the deal lowering the interests of Stark´s loan for the glass gardens, technically the Iron Throne´s. If the rumors around court were right, then the man´s daughter will marry his grandson. It would be good to cultivate a good relationship with the future Queen´s family.

-In another place-

“Why does it have to be her, uncle? Do you really hate me that much?”

Brynden had had it enough with Edmure´s whining. After settling down his affairs in the Vale and naming someone trustworthy as his replacement, he had moved back to Riverrun. It was namely to visit the family, but in truth, he wanted to take advantage of Hoster´s sickness to arrange his heir´s wedding to Roslin Frey. It would link the Freys to them by blood, keeping them loyal. In case of war, they would allow the Northern Army to pass the Twins without such an exaggerated prize and, while Eddard had made a good work in preventing the War of the Five Kings, he was sure that it will eventually begin. With how Stannis Baratheon was, it was inevitable. All the political situation apart, Edmure had actually been happy with Roslin. He had kept in contact with him until the end and was sure of that.

“You should have put more of an effort in finding a wife if you didn´t want a Frey one then” he snapped back when his nephew finally made him angry. “Come on, the one I choose is a pretty one. You will have nothing to complain about.”

“How could one of those weasels be pretty?”

“Just wait and see”

The Frey delegation arrived in that moment. Brynden recognized Olyvar and Perwyn Frey from when they were his grandnephew´s squires. Also Black Walder, Lothar and Ryman Frey. He made a conscious effort not to show his disgust and anger at the traitors. The carriage that was behind them stopped and from it emerged the oldest looking man he had ever seen. The Late Lord Frey was helped to get down by one of his squires, as another extended his hand to help the Lady Roslin Frey get down. Edmure´s mouth opened when he saw her.

“I told you” the Blackfish whispered. “Pretty”

“Is she really Frey´s get? She doesn´t look like a weasel at all.”

“Don´t say that in front of them”

It took a literal eternity for Walder Frey to reach them. After that, the presentation was done quickly and the Freys entered Riverrun. Edmure and Roslin were seated in a garden table and served refreshments, alone, with the Blackfish and Walder along with her brothers looking at them from a nearby table. After a few minutes, the Heir to Riverrun was laughing and Roslin shyly smiling with him. Her two full brothers seemed relieved, their father was uninterested, but he turned to the Tully knight.

“Well, this nonsense has already lasted enough” the old weasel said, rolling his eyes. “What I want to know is what am I going to get from my daughter marrying that idiotic Fish.”

“Apart from your blood in Riverrun and an alliance to the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands?” Ser Brynden raised an eyebrow. “I know you wanted that, Hoster told me that you have offered a Frey bride to Edmure before.”

“He rejected it, what brought this change of mind?”

“House Tully needs more heirs for the bloodline to continue. Edmure is unwed and Lysa… you already know what happened” the Late Lord Frey snickered. It had been a humiliation for House Tully and it was known that many Houses would think twice before marrying their daughters to Edmure after that incident.
“The issue has come to this: my nephew needs to marry and produce many legitimate children quickly.”

“Humm, it is true that my House boasts of it´s fertility” yes, with the hundredths of descendants Lord Frey produced, no one could say the weasels lacked fertility. “Let´s say that I accept this. What kind of dowry would you ask for Roslin? Certainly not the amount I offered in my previous letter, as it was rejected and you had that… incident.”

“No” cheap bastard, Brynden thought. “It would be a lower amount, but not as low as to signal that the lady is marrying a simple lord instead of a future lord paramount.”

“And how much could that be? I didn´t want to mention it over a letter, but I have just agreed to a marriage between my granddaughter Walda and Lord Roose Bolton, with a significant dowry in silver. If you want this to be done fast, then you will have to accept a lower dowry.”

“I am open to discussion on the name of my brother.”

In the end, after a week of discussions, Edmure´s betrothal to Lady Roslin Frey was settled. Walder was smugger than Brynden liked, but he had to accept more of his terms than he would have liked, so he let the old weasel be. Also, as part of the agreement, Lady Roslin will spend the year before the wedding as ward of Lady Shella Whent in Harrenhal. That last one had been a special petition of her brothers. The Blackfish had reunited with them in secret to ask them a few questions and learned of Black Walder´s unwanted attention towards their sister and some of the Targaryen-like relationships in the Twins. So, to safeguard her honor, he acquiesced to some of Lord Walder´s demands in exchange for Roslin being kept safe in Harrenhal with their Whent kin. Also, he got Perwyn as his squire and he also added that he would ask his nephew Robb to take Olyvar as his own. It wouldn´t be hard to convince Robb, especially if someone at Winterfell already knew of the future as he suspected.

As he was walking towards his room late that night, he crossed the door of Hoster´s. his brother was already bedridden, muttering things without sense like Tansy, Lysa, apologies and so much more. He had suffered the attack before time, when the news of Lysa´s crimes reached him. The Blackfish would feel sorry for his brother, like he did last time, but he found that he was not. Specially that night as Hoster decided to mumble about Brynden and asked to forgive him in the wrong moment. The knight entered the room in that moment, closing the door behind him.

“Hello, Hoster”

“Brynden… Brynden, forgive me… Daeron… your pin… forgive me”

“You know, Hoster” he said as he calmly sat down besides his brother´s bed. He didn´t know why, but he was feeling better than the last time he had done this. “Once upon a time, I thought that it was my duty as your brother to forgive you. That I must send you to the afterlife in peace, with my full forgiveness… but forgiveness is not that easy to obtain nor to grant.”

“Brynden… Daeron… gods be good, forgive me…”

“I forgave you, Hoster, and sent you off in peace with me. We made up… but that didn´t made any favors. And, in my old age, I realized why. The hate inside my chest didn´t go away. And you… you only repented because you are going to leave this world and are afraid of your sins landing you in the Seven Hells.”

“Forgive me… forgive me…”

“Lysa was right about you. Between all the crazy things she did, this was the one thing she was right in” he continued. “She didn´t forgive you and neither do I. I don´t forgive you, Hoster. I don´t care about duty, you killed the love of my life and I don´t forgive you for that. You can go to whatever Hell the Gods have in reserve for you with that knowledge.”

“No… no… Lysa… Brynden…”

“Good chat, brother. I hope we never do this again. Farewell, Hoster.”

He left the room, feeling lighter than before. Perhaps this was the closure he needed, not to forgive his brother, but to pass the page in another way. Hoster would take his hate to hell… and Brynden would continue living for the children who needed him. And he should begin by writing to Catelyn and inviting her to her brother´s wedding. It was time to talk face to face with his niece.

-In Essos-

Jon and his knight were walking through the streets of Pentos covered with hooded cloaks. They had gone off the dragon in a deserted island by the coast, then continued travelling by ship and foot. After carrying them all over the ocean, Morghul deserved some time to himself. Besides, the people that he was going to meet were trustworthy, he didn´t need his full power to encounter them. Also, there was the problem that dragons hadn´t been seen in centuries, so the sight of one would cause an uproar in Essos that eventually will reach the ears of the Baratheons.

“Why are we here, my Prince?” Larence asked as they entered a tavern.

“Find some old friends” the Targaryen answered just before landing eyes on someone hooded figures, just like themselves. He sat down in the same table and realized that he hadn´t been mistaken. “Ser Velaryon, Lady Velaryon.”

“Not yet, at least not in this time”

“Lady Rogare then” he answered as Lysandra smirked. “Have you been waiting for us too much time?”

“No, besides, we are ready to wait even more time for you” Aurane stated. “A letter from the Queen, delivered to Lysandra by a red priestess.”

“Let me see” Jon practically drank in the proof that his wife was alive again. As he read her message, he smiled in a way he hadn´t since Arya had stabbed her to death. Her and their Rhaella. “It appears that my wife has left the protection of the Red Temple for Qarth. She will deal with the warlocks before moving on to Astapor… which gives us time for what was planned before we reunite with her.”

“For what?”

“Follow me”

Their small group went to the small island where Arthur was waiting with their things. The Prince passed Shirkos´ trident to Aurane and Terrax´s shortsword to Lysandra before motioning them towards what looked like a small nest. Their eyes widened when they saw the young dragons sleeping there.

“What I need right now is not only an army. What I need is dragonseeds. But I will not make the same mistake as Rhaenyra and accept any I could get. No, what I need is people with blood of the dragon that also are loyal to House Targaryen. People like you two” he looked at them. “So… do you wish to try?”

Chapter Text

“I have to say, I wasn´t expecting this development, my Prince” Aurane said after their little… surprise. A surprise that was now secured in the Pipefish, along with a new provision of meat, enough to feed a small town. “Stannis Baratheon is going to have quite the surprise when…”

“When the Queen is ready, Ser, not before” Jon stopped his Flame before he continued. “There is one more mission I want you to do. You already saw the other articles that Ser Arthur guarded along with the dragons, no?” Lysandra nodded and smiled along with her husband. “then you know what to do.”

“Of course” the Velaryon continued smirking. It was going to be easy. Between his own connections and his wife´s, the task would be done much before they would be ready to depart for the Slaver cities. He was already seeing it, the Valyrian Empire rebuilt much better and stronger than last time. “But before you leave… might you witness to our bonding in front of Meleys, my Prince?”

“It well be my pleasure”

For the second time, the man formerly known as Jon Snow and his sworn knight witnessed as Aurane Velaryon and Lysandra Rogare received the Valyrian blessing for their marriage. Ser Arthur, watching it for the first time, couldn´t feel but compare it to the ceremony under the Seven. He couldn´t he deny that he was curious either. The dornishman watched carefully as Aurane and Lysandra cut their lips with a sharp piece of dragonglass and painted the other´s front with their own blood. Then they cut their palms with the same implement, joining them as if to mingle their blood as the priest said some solemn words in High Valyrian and bonded their hands together. Finally, while the blessing was still being spoken, the couple drank from a same goblet. As the priest of the Fourteen Flames declared them married, they kissed. Aurane was happy. Maybe Lysandra and him weren´t the most faithful to each other or passionate of pairs, but they understood each other in a deeper level. In a certain way, they were made for each other… and that they had done this for a second time proved it.

“I´m glad you were able to find each other again, truly” Jon told them as they said goodbye in the docks. “It proves that destiny has a way to join people together.”

“You will also be together with your own, my Prince, and soon” Aurane said as he helped his wife on the gangplank. “Safe travels until we see each other again.”

“Safe travels for you too”

The Flame of Shrykos nodded and went into his ship, screaming at his sailors to prepare to take off. Normally he would cross the Narrow Sea directly into Driftmark, but now he had a longer trip to make. Lysandra had already arranged for some of the package to be delivered to the Red Temple in Volantis, where the Queen was supposedly staying. There, they would be taken care of until they could reach their owners. As for the ones destined for people in Westeros, they had an entirely different role to play, and probably sooner than some people believed, so Aurane would need to deliver them fast.

It took a few days, but the winds and weather were in their favor, so they arrived to their first destination before he had expected. Oldtown was a magnificent city, with the Hightower proudly shinning in a place of honor. He couldn´t help but feel resentment when he saw it. If only House Hightower had known their place, the Dance of Dragons would have never happened and House Targaryen wouldn´t have been weakened. Them, the Citadel, those dammed Arryns, the thrice dammed Baratheons, the even more dammed Lannisters and the fucking Starks would pay… they were going to see it. The Field of Fire would look like a torch in comparation to what they were going to do to them all.

“Aurane, focus” Lysandra reminded him, sitting down in the bed. She passed a hand over her silky silver hair, a hair that their Laena had inherited… and with her memory, the pain of her absence and what happened to her returned. That and the anger. “We have a mission, our vengeance can wait.”

“How long? When I arrive to Driftmark, Monford will insist sooner or later for me to accompany him to Dragonstone and there…”

“Then it´s a good thing that we aren´t yet going to Driftmark. It gives us time to tame our anger” she kissed his hand. “We have things to do.” She smiled. “Where to go?”

“The Quill and Tankard”

The two of them discreetly got out of the ship and went to the tavern. Lysandra wasn´t sure of what they were looking for, but it was certainly not a group of hooded strangers. She nearly laughed at seeing the stupid cut Sarella was wearing under her hood… what a way to attract attention. Roone, the Flame of Arrax, also smiled at her. He had been a gifted student of Archmaester Marwyn before having to run for his life when the Archmaesters decided to make a purge of their order. He found a refuge with House Targaryen, who valued his knowledge. He had worked with Sarella more than all of them, but he enjoyed teaching their children so much that the parents had some genuine affection for him. As for the last one… that one interested her the most. She had never seen his face, despite working close with him. It was always covered with a mask. The financial genius that helped her to build her family´s bank again… and made House Targaryen richer than ever. Her mouth opened wide when she realized that the last stranger didn´t have a mask on. He had a handsome face… and a cane close. Still a cripple then, but not as badly as before.

“Willas Tyrell” Aurane greeted him. “It´s good to see you, especially when you are not as burned as before.”

“And I´m eager to pay the Lannisters back for that, Ser” the Tyrell boy smiled. “I have news from Highgarden. My grandmother and Prince Oberyn are back and plotting. Apparently, they want the Queen to marry Prince Quentyn… and me Sansa Stark.”

“Ew, does your grandmother hate you?” Lysandra asked

“I don´t see the Queen marrying anyone but the Prince… not that they know about it” the sailor grabbed a tankard of ale from the table and took a drink before he continued. “Do they know about you?”

“Not for now, I have tried to remain under their radar. Thank the Gods that I´m a good actor or grandmother would have noticed” he seemed troubled. “I wish I didn´t have to lie to them, I love my family, true… but I won´t be able to save them if I make them a target of the Lannisters and the Raven.” He bit his lip. “So for now, it´s convenient.”

“And I suppose that you have a convenient excuse for this trip too then?”

“Officially, I´m visiting my grandfather in the Hightower, so yes” Willas looked at Lysandra. “Do you have my other petition?”

“Of course, the Rogare company always finds what the client is looking for.”

The Tyrell heir smiled before they all finished their drinks and got up from their seats. They accompanied Aurane to his ship, where the packages were handed, including Willas´ special petition. The tested the cane before handing over a pouch of golden dragons, as if doubting that Lysandra´s products were anything but perfect. But there were not harsh feelings, after all business was business. Sarella took some extra boxes with her. She will soon finish forging her links and reveal herself as a woman to the Archmaesters. The Velaryon couple wished they could see the looks in the faces of the old men when they saw that a young woman took them for fools. Priceless… too bad they wouldn´t be there to see that. After enjoying that spectacle, Sarella would depart back to Dorne, but instead of Sunspear, her mother´s ship would take her somewhere else…

“Take care of yourselves and try not to attract much attention, we still aren´t ready to begin our plan” Aurane said, a hand on Willas´ shoulder.

“You too, the trip to the North is long and hard… and you will be in the heart of the Stark´s territory.”

“We will be careful.”

They said goodbye in the docks and the Pipefish left for the North. Again, the weather was much in their favor, but the trip was hard and long. By the time they arrived to White Harbor, even a seasoned sailor like Aurane was wishing to return to solid ground. The cold made him shiver, he didn´t know how the Prince and Larence could have lived in such a place without turning into ice cones. Certainly the blood of the First Men running through them protected them from such a fate. Anyway, his ship docked in a secluded place, well away from the eyes of the city watch. After all the Pipifish was a Velaryon ship. And the Velaryons didn´t make business so far north. It would attract suspicions. Luckily, the people he was expecting arrived fairly soon.

“Who did you rob to get those clothes?”

“Jaja” Toregg answered, crossing his arms. “We couldn’t exactly enter the city looking like a wildling, no?” he frowned. “It wasn´t funny, having to shave my beard when what I need is more warmth and only had a bone knife.”

“I can tell” the Bastard of Driftmark signaled to the inside. Again, he was surprised by how natural Val was in a skirt. It had taken her a lot of effort and time to become a Lady Maegyr that could help them, but she eventually got there. And apparently she wasn´t going to undo all that effort just because she was a wildling again. “My Lady.”

“Do you have them?”

“Yes, here they are”

Toregg smiled as he weighted his weapon again. A double ax of valyrian steel with a piece of citrine on the handle. It was a big weapon, appropriate for a big man like the Giantsbane boy. It caught the attention… but no more than Aurane´s own new weapon. The trident that had been granted to the Flame of Shrykos, adorned with a big aquamarine, was also quite eye catching, but it represented the God of the Sea better than anything else. Val, for her part, was caressing her bastard sword. He wasn´t going to interrupt the reunion between old friends. The Wildling Princess had cut down so many enemies with that thing that the amethyst on the handle seemed more red than purple. Lysandra´s own short sword, adorned with an emerald, wasn´t as forlorn as that. He liked it more that way, you tend to sleep better when you know your wife isn´t going to cut your neck with her bloody blade.

“We have to return now, things aren´t good on the other side of the Wall” Toregg said. “We hope this will be able to turn tides, but… the Prince needs to hurry.”

“The Queen is moving towards Qarth this moment and after that, Astapor will follow. Once she has her army again, the other cities will fall quickly. Your people will be evacuated very soon, you only have to endure some more.”

“With this, we might be able to do it” Val sheated her sword. It wasn´t advisable to walk around with Valyrian steel, it was too valuable and caught too many views. “Are you going to go to them?”

“No, I will go to Driftmark now. It´s time to prepare for the revolt that we dragonseeds have wanted since the Usurper sat on the Throne for the first time” he smirked viciously. “Dragonstone will be a great outpost for conquest, don´t you think?”

The Pipefish set sail the moment it was replenished for it´s travel to Driftmark. For hours, Aurane revised his speech to his brother. He knew that the last thing Monford was expecting was for him to arrive with a wife. How was he to explain Lysandra? And that was not the only point, he needed access to the caves that have been closed since the times of Princess Rhaenys. If not… he didn´t want to think about that. His wife was besides himself and, as they approached his home, she started to feel as nervous as him. She had never had to meet her husband´s family, not even his nephew. What was she supposed to do to cause a good impression on her in laws? The nervousness grew when they saw the Lord of the Tides waiting for them in the docks.

“Brother, you arrive late. Where have you…” Lord Monford nearly choked on his tongue when he saw the lady by his bastard brother´s side. “Aurane, who is this?”

“Hello, brother. I… I got married” he blurted out, earning a look of disbelieve from his siblings. “Meet my wife, Lady Lysandra Rogare.”

“A pleasure, my lord” Lysandra curtsied in respect.

“A… a pleasure too, my lady” the other Velaryon glared at Aurane. “Brother, might you accompany me?”

The bastard did and, after a scolding on Monford´s side, his brother finally got his anger out of his body enough to ask about his new wife. After he had sated his curiosity about Lysandra, he asked about his reasons for going to the Reach and then to the North. Apparently, that was brought attention upon House Velaryon from the liege lord… the Usurper´s brother. The bastard merely said that he was giving Lysandra the honeymoon she deserved. It seemed like a likeable excuse, or at least one that Stannis Baratheon would believe. Before leaving Monford´s solar he discreetly took the keys of the cave. His brother didn´t notice while he was through the window or at least choose to ignore it in favor of other worries. And talking about worries, this was around the time that Monterys was betrothed to Gaelys Celtigar, no?

“Are you already in talks with Lord Celtigar about marrying his daughter to your son?”

“How do you know I´m thinking about betrothing Monterys?” Monford asked, confused. Aurane had been a long time in the sea, he shouldn´t know.

“Lucky guess” the bastard answered. “Don´t worry, something tells me that everything is going to go according to your plans.”

Well, everything but the part about the girl producing many children. Gaelys had tried, of course, but the couple could only manage to get a living child… a very important child that should remain safe. But that was for later. For now, Aurane left his brother´s solar to return to his wife and guided her to the caves. She had been watching a very important package for them both. The bastard of Driftmark opened the rusty lock that hadn´t been used since Princess Rhaenys and her children lived in the island, feeling at home when the smell of salt hit his nose. Lysandra smiled by his side, opening the package and putting it on the floor. Two really small dragons crawled out of it, shrieking as they explored their new home.

“We should name them” his wife reminded him. “I was thinking something along the lines of Terrax… there was never one of that. Maybe because a dragon wasn´t meant to be trapped in the earth.”

“Terrax it is then. As for this one” Aurane went down to caress his own grey dragon. “Seasmoke should be good continuity, but that one… Seasmoke was always hers. Only hers. So… Grey Ghost will be your name.”

“Grey Ghost and Terrax… I like that”

Everything was perfect for a few hours as husband and wife enjoyed their times with the dragons. It would take some time, but soon the new Velaryon dragons along with the Targaryen ones would grow and become what they were born to be. That brought some peace to his soul… at least until he saw it. He didn´t know what HE was doing there, Monford would never deal with the Stag´s pet if given a chance.

“Brother, come down here. You too, sister. I was just telling the good Ser about your recent marriage.” The Lord of the Tides practically ordered. Aurane and Lysandra forced a smile to their faces, a smile that would mask their hate. “Ser Davos, let me introduce my new goodsister, Lady Lysandra Rogare.”

“A pleasure, my lady”

“The pleasure is mine, Ser…”

“Davos Seaworth, my lady”

“Ser Seaworth”

-In King´s Landing-

Cersei was feeling bored, as always when she had tea with her ladies. What a flock of useless hens, she only heard about fashions that she set, useless gossips and how beautiful she looked in her own gown… as if she didn´t know already. Not for the first time, she longed for something stronger than the leaf water. The only good thing was that she was not forced to stand the presence of the ugly shrew of Tarth, her future goodsister now that her fool of a brother finally got out of the Kingsguard. How could she do that to her? How dare Jaime leave her? And for such an ugly cow?

“Are you alright, your Grace?” the foolish little dove maskerading as a direwolf talked. Cersei could barely stomach the girl. To think that she would marry her Joffrey one day… preposterous.

“I´m fine, only with a bit of a headache” the Queen answered, smiling sweetly at the stupid girl. “Maybe I need some fresh air, excuse me, Ladies.”

“Shouldn´t we call a maester?” the dove´s even more stupid friend suggested.

“No, there is no need” she didn´t trust the new Grand Maester. He was her father´s creature, yes, but he would see to his interests more than hers. If she were to call him, this would be informed to her father and she didn´t want that. “I just need some air and time alone, don´t be worried.”

The Lannister woman got out of the room, directing herself to the Gardens. Her life had become less pleasant lately and she didn´t know why. Jaime left her to woo some wench from the Stormlands that didn´t even have a pretty face to begin with, Tyrion was still alive and now even her golden son was engaged (unofficially) to a silly little dove that might not be a threat, but still bothered her. She wished everything could be back to normal, for the wench to die and the dove to go away, but…

“Your Grace?” Cersei turned to see Sansa Stark right behind her. “I wanted to see if you truly were alright.”

“I am, little dove, don´t be worried” she stated, smiling at the girl.

“It´s just that… have I done something to bother you, your Grace? I can´t help but feel that I was the one that caused your headache and would hate to be the reason you can´t join tea today” a golden eyebrow was raised. Why was this girl… “Or was it my father? I heard him saying some things last night… are you two fighting?”

“Me and the Lord Hand are alright, little dove, but…” Cersei put an arm over the girl´s shoulders, trying to sound as maternal as she could. “Why was your father talking about me in the night?”

“I don´t know, he said… he said that he had found out something… that he suspected that Aunt Lysa had an accomplish that wasn’t caught… and something I didn´t really listened about you and your brother… and bastards” Sansa frowned, as if trying hard to remember something. “Does your brother have bastards, your Grace?”

“Who knows” the Queen answered, her sweet smile in place. “I might investigate on my own, but I wouldn´t put past Tyrion to leave some poor wench with child. He already did so.” She patted her head. “Go back, little dove, I will be there soon.”

Cersei was thinking so hard about what to do that she didn´t see the small smile that appeared in Sansa Stark´s face. The redhead knew that the Queen soon would try to kill her husband during a hunt, but now Lord Stark will be in her hit list again. If she could get the Lannister woman to take care of her father, she would be one step closer to become Queen in the North again. And no one would suspect her, because Lord Eddard had been murdered by the Lannisters before. So she composed herself again and sat down with the ladies.

“AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!”

The piercing scream made all the women in the room jump. All but her. In a twirl of skirts, the ladies run out of the room to see what had happened. Knights were also converging in one place. On the entrance of one solar, a servant sat on the floor, her eyes wide as she pointed inside it. There was wine on the floor, along with a decanter and chalice. She must have been delivering that when she found something so terrific that she lost her ability to talk, at least for the moment. Sansa and the other women curiously peeked inside. There, slumped over the desk filled with bloody papers, was the body of Lord Petyr Baelish. His throat had been opened while he worked… and if she was to guess a culprit, she would point to Arya.

“Oh, for the Seven” she said as she took a hand to her mouth. By her side, Jeyne Poole was in tears. As if she hadn`t been spared a horrible destiny by this same death. Sansa continued faking horror anyway, admiring the handiwork of her sister. She always knew how to cause an impression. “Poor Lord Baelish”

“How could this happen?!”

“He was the Master of Coin!! If a Member of the Small Council isn`t safe, who could be?!!”

“Murder!! There is a murderer between us!!”

As the Lords and Ladies around her started to cause a ruckus, the redhead took the opportunity to leave. A Lady asked her why, something she had been expecting, so she answered that Lord Baelish was a childhood friend of her mother`s and she needed to give her the “sad news”. She was let go after that. The redhead smiled inwardly as she left the scene. Lord Baelish was dead, Ramsay was dead, Roose was dead… unfortunately, but also worked on her favor. And soon Cersei would try to murder her husband and she will either take down her father for her or cause her own downfall. Great.

“Thanks for the lessons, Lord Baelish” Sansa said to herself. “I will make sure to use everything you taught me well.”

“Like now?” Tyrion`s voice surprised her. No one was supposed to have listened to her. “You are taking very bold moves lately. Be careful or you might find yourself at the end of the same blade that just opened your teacher`s throat.”

“She would never dare…”

“You don`t know that” the dwarf walked to get closer. “and what game are you playing with my sweet sister? Be careful with that too or you might burn yourself with your own plan.”

“I know how to deal with Cersei. Right now, I have convinced her that my father needs to be eliminated. She or Lord Tywin will eventually take care of Robb and Rickon is still a baby. I have long time to get rid of him. That or… well, she gets killed for killing her husband.”

A perfect golden eyebrow rose. Unknown to both conspirators, someone was listening on them from behind a wall. Cersei was walking to see what was keeping everyone away and stumbled upon that scene. So… that little bitch thought she could manipulate the lioness? She had been mistaken, the Queen thought with anger, the redhead wasn`t a foolish little dove, but a snake maskerading as one. And one that must be crushed. A plan started to device in the woman`s mind. It was time to show this little whore who the real Queen was.

-In Winterfell-

Robb was sleeping in his bed when he had the same nightmare. The weirdwood trees, the dead walking boy trying to reach him… and the future. A future that was full of dragonfire and death. And Jon was the one behind that. Why? What had gone so wrong with their family that his brother had turned onto them? He wanted to know, but the people he could go to… no, he needed to know. So he approached Bran that morning.

“A dead boy, you said?” he frowned as if trying to remember something he found distasteful. “His grandson, perhaps.”

“Jon`s grandson?”

“Who else?” the younger Stark sighed. “Look, I don`t know the details, but he died pretty young. Something happened to him in the Stormlands, near Storm`s End… I only know that Jon blamed us for his death and suddenly we were being attacked without any reason by him and his dragonriders.”

“Wasn`t he killed in some way?”

“No”

“Are you sure?”

“Pretty much, because he killed himself. In Volantis” he looked back at his bacon with a bored look, as if he wasn`t talking about their dead grandnephew. “I`m not even sure something happened to him. Targaryens are insane, who knows why they do what they do most of the times… Jon is a prime example of that.”

“Why would Jon be an example of Targaryen madness? He only married into the House.”

“And why did he do that, Robb? Into House Targaryen, famous for the endogamous tendencies?” he smiled in way that made his older brother`s blood run cold. “Jon has their blood, brother. Daenerys Targaryen accepted him because he shared her blood, because he could give her strong, dragonridding, incest spawn children. As for Jon… let`s just say that his coin did a backflip and landed wrong this time.”

Robb wanted to deny it, but couldn`t. Hadn`t Jon himself told everyone that he had Valyrian ascendance? There were very few people with Valyrian blood his father could have come in contact with, women less. Jon`s mother could be a Lysene prostitute or camo follower, Robb was actually praying that she was, but couldn`t deny the fact that she could just as well had been a woman with Targaryen blood. Despite what Robert Baratheon thought, their blood was not as rare as he believed. The Velaryons, the Celtigars, the Longwaters… even Houses like the Penroses and the Hightowers… and let`s not talk about the bastards they could have produced and the children of said bastards. The thought about that possibility being reality scared him now.

“Gods help us”

“Me perhaps not, but you…” Bran stated, smiling at his brother in a scary way. “You can always trust me, brother, you know that, no?”

“Of course” he wasn`t sure that was the case any longer. With anyone in the family. “Of course.”

Chapter Text

Daenerys Targaryen was confused when the red priestesses announced that she had a visit that wasn´t Ser Jorah. She wasn´t expecting anyone else, not even Irri or Jhiqui, her old handmaidens. They were Dothraki and not believers in the Flames of Valyria, so they shouldn´t remember her now that they were all reborn in the past. Or perhaps the Great Stallion had allowed that to happen? She walked to the meeting hall in the Temple with her shadow Ser Jorah, who was starting to show his feelings for her, and went to meet the person that demanded to see her. If it was that Spider Varys or traitor Tyrion…

“Valar Morghulis, my Queen” the woman kneeled as a lady should to her monarch.

“Valar Dohaerys… Lady Helaena Saeragyon”

The Dragon Queen must say, she was impressed. And confused. Lady Helaena was of the blood of Old Valyria, a descendant of House Targaryen, but she doubted she had been of her husband´s small council as Lady Lysandra Rogare, the woman who came to see her a few days before along with her family´s main supporter most expert mariner, Ser Aurane Velaryon, was. She had known the Volantene Lady and she was happy as a powerful Lady, but one that controlled everything from the shadows and advanced with her investigation to recreate ancient Palladins in a safe way. She must, as the woman had also been her chief Lady in waiting after Missandei died, just as her bastard husband had been her own husband´s personal knight. And she didn´t feel she was mistaken.

“How are you here, Lady Saeragyon?” Dany asked, crossing her arms. The descendant of the so-called Whore Princess (at least by the Westerossi) only smirked.

“Meleys is not only the Goddess of the Homeland and Motherhood, but the one of Marriage. And it seems that she blessed the one of this humble follower of hers so we can see each other again without interference” the woman answered. “Besides, you need a Lady in Waiting, your Grace. Allow this kin of yours to serve you as one.”

“We will see”

The Queen invited the Lady, examining her to compare the girl to the old Helaena Saeragyon that she knew well. She had to say, she looked younger but carried herself with the same confidence that the Helaena she knew from her former last days, after she had made the first steps to perfection the formula of the Palladins, that one that even Ancient Valyrians and the Princess Saera struggled with. She also looked smaller than her, when in the old days she had been a bit taller. Just like Daenerys own ancestor Daella Targaryen was to her sister Saera. But they had the same silver hair and the purple eyes that were common to the people of Valyrian descend. Also the comparison ended there. Daenerys was prettier than Helaena. Not that she wasn´t pretty herself, but like her namesake (Queen Helaena Targaryen, wife of Aegon II) she had a round face and wasn´t as striking as her distant kin. But the two girls could understand each other… or at least they could before. So Daenerys tested her, just to make sure she was truly speaking to the old Helaena and not to some spy sent by the Lannisters. By then, Tyrion surely knew the Saeragyon Lady and how important they had been for her. So, the Dragon Queen asked her for things she was sure no one else knew. And Helaena didn´t mind answer, even if they were her deepest secrets. Things Tyrion Lannister didn´t have a way to know…

“Alright, my Lady, I believe you” Dany said, smiling at her. “You are welcome into my company as my Lady in Waiting… but you have to understand that once she arrives, you will be equal to Lady Missandei now.”

“I know… but I still wanted to pledge myself to you” she drank some tea. “Do you know if…”

“Don´t you know?”

“Before I woke up, I only heard a voice saying that I will reunite with my beloved husband in this life as I couldn´t in the last” she sighed. “Larence… and my babies… did they live a good life? I know that you died before, but…”

“I´m sorry, I don´t remember” Daenerys frowned. “But I have the feeling that there is one place where we could find out” she finished her tea to get up from her chair. “I´m heading there now… to Qarth.” She smirked. “Will you come to me, my dear Lady in waiting?”

“Of course, your Grace.”

With transport and escort given to them by the red priests, the committee of the Dragon Queen departed to Astapor. It became obvious that the Red Temple had been working in their favor when Quaithe was waiting for them at the entrance of the city. And she was not the only one. Daenerys had to contain the sneer when she saw Pyat Pree and Xaro Xhoan Daxos there, looking at her curiously. She would not trust them now, as she was aware that they were only interested in her dragons and the magic they possessed. They bowed before her, not taking their eyes away from the dragons that perched free on her shoulder and Lady Helaena´s, while completely ignoring the lurking Ser Jorah. Quaithe bowed more respectfully, her eyes on the Queen and only the Queen.

“Welcome, Dragon Queen, to the ancient City of Qarth. Welcome to your revered kin too, the Dragonblooded Lady” the red priestess announced. “Come, enter. The Red Temple has prepared accommodations for you…”

“Bah, those accommodations are not fit for such an esteemed person as yourself, my dear Dragon Queen, or someone who shared your blood.” Xaro advanced to make himself noticeable to the young woman. “It would be my pleasure to house you in my own home, where you could know what luxury is and servants will be at your beg and call.”

“Our masters at the House of the Undying…”

“I´m grateful, my good lords, for your offers. But the Red Temple was the place that housed me when I had nowhere else to go, running from persecution with only three newborn dragons to my name. I would not want to offend them now.”

“Of course not” Quaite intervened, saving them. “This way, your Grace.”

“Please visit the House of the Undying before you return to Volantis, my Queen” the warlock said, his eyes not completely hiding the greed with which he looked at the young dragons with her. “You and your cousin… you won´t regret it.”

“I will keep it in mind.”

“Please allow me to frequent you, your Grace” Xaro pleaded, almost sounding sincere with tears in his eyes at seeing her go. But Daenerys won´t let that mislead her again. She was better informed now. “I would be delighted to be in your company and present you with some gifts.”

“Of course, Lord Daxos”

“My Queen, please.”

“Thank you, Lady Quaite”

The stances the Red Temple had prepared for her definitely were humbler than the ones she had stayed in the last time she had been in Qarth, but she felt safer there than she ever did in Xaro´s palace. Lady Helaena also seemed to be like that, because she went about her duties without worrying much. As she dressed her Queen, Daenerys could tell that she wondered how someone could wear a dress that showed a breast. She seemed just as uncomfortable when it was her turn to wear one, obviously not liking showing so much of her body to someone that was not her Larence.

“Your Grace” one of the acolytes that littered about the place entered the room she was staying in. “Lord Xaro of the Thirteen is asking for an audience.”

“I will receive him”

Daenaerys might not want to see that man ever again, but she wasn´t naïve either. If she offended the powerful guild like the Thirteen, things could get sour very quickly for her. The same for the Warlocks, the Pureborn, the Tourmaline Brotherhood and the Ancient Guild of Spicers. And she had no illusions that her dragons would protect her, as they were not old enough to harm anyone yet despite having grown faster than the last time. She needed to last a bit more time in Qarth, at least until Pree made his move and invited her to the House, as happened before. Then she would be able to destroy the warlocks like the last time. So she received Xaro, who gifted her the first of many gifts, a necklace with an amethyst, who he said would protect her against poison. For Helaena, he brought a hairpiece decorated by jewels in the form of an exotic flower. And she knew why soon. Just as Xaro hoped to marry Daenerys to get one of her dragons, he seeked Helaena´s hand for one of his cousins, also of the Thirteen. Apparently, he believed that the dragons were of the two of them, though he wanted to obtain two of them.

Xaro was also not the only one to approach the newly arrived Dragon Queen. In the following days she was visited quite frequently by him and his cousin who pretended Helaena. As he showered her and her Lady in waiting with useless gifts that she accepted with an insincere smile and utmost courtesy, as Qartheen considered courtesy to be of great importance; the Tourmaline and the Spicers also visited and gifted her things. They all wanted to gawk at her dragons like they were a circus attraction and offered things fit for a Queen in exchange for that. The Tourmaline weren´t very imaginative, specially considering the first time. They gifted her the same dragon crown as before, one that she had only used once because it was uncomfortable and overly luxurious. She could sell it after and get herself another, better one until she got her Valyrian Steel one…

“Your Grace, the warlocks are here to visit you” Daenerys smiled.

“It´s alright, let them in”

The Dragon Queen and Pyat Pree saw each other face to face for the first time in a long time. She had left her dragons with Helaena, deciding to face her old enemy alone. He could barely be considered an enemy now that she had faced people like the Lannisters and the Starks, but… at the end of the meeting, she got her invitation to the House of the Undying. The next morning, she donned a Qartheen dress and went to meet Pree, Drogon over her shoulder. The two other dragons were hissing from a nervous Helaena´s shoulders. She smiled at the committee welcoming her with two cups of shade of the evening.

“The Undying are expecting you and your companion inside, your Grace”

“Thank you” she braced herself and grabbed her kin´s wrist, getting close to whisper at her. “Stay close to me, no matter what. They will try to devour us two… and together we have much more chance than separated.”

As Daenerys advanced through the corridors, she started to see visions of the past. Her mad father, her beautiful mother, her brothers… and even her beloved husband as he put a dagger in her belly. She saw things that gave her hope, like her daughter soaring free, her firstborn ruling over Volantis and the Empire she had formed as a wise ruler and her darling second son smiling as he fought. She saw them surrounded by children, children she hadn´t lived to see… and then saw Brandon Stark standing over one of her grandchildren. She felt the need to strangle the Raven.

“Get away from him!!!” it was an illusion, she couldn´t touch the damn monster even if she tried. A hand was put on her shoulder. “Helaena, do you…”

“I… I think I see the same as you” the girl said. Daenerys realized then that until that moment they had been seeing different things, different illusion, but this one… this one was for the both of them. And that scared both a bit. “Meleys have mercy…”

“Treason…” a voice made the Queen turn towards a corner of the room. “Treason that broke the blood… treason that broke the chain… treason that brought the Wrath… Treason… treason… treason that broke destiny and brought forward a new one…” the dragons hissed all at once. “Before three… now just one… for the both of them, one will come.”

“Daenerys…” the Lady in waiting spoke, wanting to see more of the image.

“Come on”

The Queen continued her way through a door on the right and a narrow staircase with Helaena right after her. Her children seemed to be more protective as they got close to the Halls of the Undying. As they got into the chambers, the same illusion as before was projected in front of her eyes. The magnificence of the Undying that masked their real corruption. It was easy to dispel that when she already knew the truth. After that, she found herself in the same chamber as before, with the dying heart and the corpses that dragged themselves towards her and her Lady to eat them both. Unfortunately for them, the dragons seemed to already know what to do. As if they could read their rider´s mind.

“Dracarys!!!” Daenerys ordered and the heart was showered in flames. The corpses screamed and tumbled as the girls watched the room caught in flame and the dragons consume the burned heart. The both of them escaped the place with the dragons after them, the Palace collapsing after they exited.

“NO!!!” Pree tried to kill them, but Drogon put himself in the way and burned the warlock with a powerful flame that should be impossible for a dragon so young. His brothers followed and soon the warlock was just a burned corpse.

“Now what?” asked Helaena, looking at the corpse at their feet. Not with a horrified expression, but more like… calm. Her Dragon blood surely was showing.

“Now we return to Quaite´s temple”

Daenerys didn´t have any desire to have a meeting with the Sorrowful men and their manticore again, so she decided to return to the place where she was safe and discreetly get out of the city before the Qartheen recovered from their shock. They had been reminded today that dragons were dangerous and she knew that they would soon demand that she left. It would be better if she did so before they demanded it… along with all the riches she had collected from the many gifts they gave her. She could exchange them for something better, something that would actually help in here crusade until her husband reunite with them in Astapor.

“You have a good hand with them, Helaena” Daenerys said that afternoon as they packed, her Lady feeding the dragons for her. “You are blood of the dragon too and my husband already has a bonded dragon. Do you feel some connection or…”

“No, my Queen… or at least not yet, and every time I try to do this” the woman tried to touch Rhaegal where wings met the back, causing the dragon to hiss at her and coiled away. “See?”

“I do” she answered. “Let´s move to our next destination, my love must be waiting for our reunion dearly.”

“My own husband will be there too?”

“Oh, believe me, those two are together. After all, who but his loyal paladin knight could be the one chosen by Meleys?”

-In Lys-

Arthur was feeling very uncomfortable as he walked the streets of Lys. Both him and Larence had needed a whole hour to recover from the long flight from Braavos to the lovely Lys. Morghul had stayed in the clouds, ready for anything. It was awkward for a man sworn to celibacy to stroll where so many beautiful bed slaves offered their services to many customers. He could tell why the city was rich… and couldn´t be more disgusted by it. How many of those people were there against their will? Or were breed with the sole purpose to become whores for their masters to sell over and over again? This city was…

“Disgusting, I know” Jon said in a low voice. “But we aren´t here to take the city. At least, not yet” he frowned when he saw a silver haired woman dressed in the red and black of House Targaryen, clearly imitating a member of his House. “Unfortunately, they are making it difficult for me to keep myself from burning it to cinders.”

“Remember that those slaves are…”

“I know, I mean the masters” he sighed. “Let´s so what we are here for.”

“I don´t know why we should measure ourselves” Larence said, his frown even deeper than his Prince´s. He hated Lys, it was one of the reasons why he marched so gleefully against Lys at the head of a host of Paladins before. And another was… “Helaena would have wanted me to destroy this place...”

“We have priorities, Larence, remember that” Jon reminded him, keeping his hood in place. “You more than us.”

The unlikely group finally arrived to the place they were looking for. Both the Prince and the Paladin braced themselves. The person they were about to meet wasn´t their favorite and also was a little bit… special… but if they were to fight the White Walkers, they needed this particular person and his ability. He was, after all, the only smith in the known world that could match or even surpass Gendry Baratheon. And no, he wasn´t the owner of the pleasure house. They wouldn´t have worked alongside him if he was, no matter how useful or talented he was.

“Hello, we are here for the Goat” Jon said once they entered the pleasure house…

And no, the name wasn´t a coincidence. It turns out, the person they were going to meet was probably the only survivor of Vargo Hoat´s family. It turned out the demented sellsword, when he took leadership of the Brave Companions, celebrated by murdering and raping his own family members and selling those he left alive as slaves. His brother had been a reputed smith in Qhohor, which had taught his sons. There was one that was particularly talented with metalwork, of whom his father was particularly proud… unfortunately for him, he also resembled his Lysene mother more than his Qhohorik father, so he was quite good looking in the exotic way… so he ended up in a whorehouse in Lys.

“It was time you showed up” Armax Hoat, Flame of Vermax, patron of smiths, appeared before them in a thin robe of silk. He obviously hadn´t enjoyed the return as much as them. “What took you so long?”

“I needed to get rid of the Starks first, not an easy feat when I was at the heart of their territory” Jon said, then turned to the patrons. “I´m here to buy him.”

“You must be joking, he is quite…”

“Is this enough?” Jon asked, holding a necklace of Valyrian Steel and emeralds. Frankly, he wanted to get out that place as soon as possible, the fumes of perfume were starting to damage his sensible nose.

“Sold” the patron said, trying to grab the necklace.

“You will have to write the contract first”

The slaver frowned, but didn´t refuse. He quickly went for the papers and wrote the contract giving ownership of Armax to Jon. Jon pocketed them, decided to burn them later. Arthur awkwardly handed his own cloak to the smith, who covered himself with it. He followed them through the streets of Lys, wondering what else was there for them. Certainly not a whore, those two were the most faithful husbands there were and Armax knew when a man wanted to bed someone just by looking at them. Then why… Oh.

“You know, I would pay to see you burn this place to cinders” he said, smiling in a way that would have made his uncle Vargo proud. If someone hated the Lyseni and their flesh market more than Larence, it was Armax. “You only have to…”

“We aren´t ready yet. We might burn the city… but we won´t be able to hold it for long. Before long, other people will be made slaves and it will start again.” Jon reasoned. “If we want to destroy this despicable market, then we have to make sure it can´t be risen from the ashes.”

“I know” the Qhohorik nodded. “That´s why I followed you, because you could do it. So give me a forge and I will make you armors that couldn´t be imagined, give me a hammer and I will give you swords that will marvel the world, give me your blood and I will definitely surpass Gendry Baratheon… only so I could see this way of life being burned out of existence and never rising again. I want to see a world where everyone is free.”

“And you will”

They continued walking until they reached another whorehouse. It certainly must have been a luxurious one in the past, but right now it looked a bit ruined. Some of the whores, even if they were beautiful, also looked a bit sick, something that scared Larence. He had believed that this time… a hand enveloped his, calming him down. He had checked the timeline, they should still be in time to achieve Helaena´s impossible dream…

“I want to talk to the owner” Jon demanded.

Larence was still in the past. When he and Helaena had begun to trust each other, she told him about a cousin of hers that she loved very much. He was the son of a cousin of her father´s and they had grown supporting each other. Once House Saeragyon started to fall into disgrace, her cousin had set out with his family in search for business opportunities in the Free Cities. They had corresponded for a time, but then he disappeared. She had used her resources to track him down, but never found an answer of where he and his family ended up. Until her death, she had lived with the mystery… so Larence picked up the search only to find out too late. Her cousin had been murdered by a band of sellswords and his wife and daughters sold to a slaver trader that sold them again in Lys. When they had taken Lys and Larence had finally been able to come for them, they were dead from disease… all but one.

“We are here for the Whore Princess´ Children” the Prince said clearly to the owner. “I want to buy them.”

“They are favorites of the clients, I can´t just sell…” Jon dropped several big jewels in front of the man, whose eyes went wide. Then a valyrian steel dagger, unsheated, followed the crystals.

“Think about it better, master, because they are distant kin of mine and I would see them rescued. One way or the other” the menacing aura he projected made the man tremble. “You don´t want to go against me.”

“I have guards…”

“I have the most celebrated sword in Westeros and a Paladin at my back” he rolled a peridot as if it was not a priceless jewel. He had collected many in Valyria along with the steel, so... “And you are not popular, so no one in Lys will cry for your demise or help you. So… will you brave it?”

In the end, the owner of the whorehouse decided to yield without fighting. Besides, he needed the money. It would revitalize the business more than two used young whores and an unused pair of children. He sent someone for them. Larence´s eyes went wide, he had made it. He had recovered them alive. The older nieces of Helaena looked dead in the eyes, but they would take care of them… of Maegelle and Viserra. The twins, Gael and Gaemon, didn´t have that look. The girl was scared, but the boy wasn´t. His eyes travelled to Larence, recognition showing in his eyes.

“I knew you would come, uncle” he smiled as they were lead away from the place.

“Of course I would” Larence put a hand around his nephew, returning the smile.

Jon was remising of the past. His protector had been a mentor to Gaemon, the father that he lost before he was able to remember him. Unfortunately, the young Saeragyon didn´t share his aunt´s intelligence for ancient arts or his uncle´s talent with the sword. He would have been quite a disappointing Paladin if he were to survive the procedure. Fortunately for him, he had another big talent. He had been a great organizer that kept everything under watch and their provisions full and running during all the War and the Long Night. Food, timber, armor, refreshed soldiers and medicines… the House of the Dragon´s High Steward took charge of that, making sure it run smoothly.

“So… are we finally going to get away from here?” Armax asked as they approached the piers. Jon had gotten them a boat in the way… or simply took it from some slavers after they tried to attack them during a stop. Idiots. “If I spend one more second in this shithole of a city…”

“Contain yourself for a second” Jon said as he rummaged around the things he kept on the boat, which was manned by recently freed and deeply loyal former slaves. He finally got what he wanted and showed it to his flames. “This are for you, do you accept them?”

“It´s not a forging hammer but it will do” the smith said, grabbing the Warhammer with a smile on his face. The peridot in the handle shiny with the sun.

“Thank you, my prince” Gaemon said, bowing to him as he received the dirk, amazed at it´s jade handle. “Where are we going now, my Prince?”

“To the place where quest for freedom began… Astapor”

-In Winterfell-

Robb couldn´t shake those dreams. He felt the Gods were warning him about something, but he couldn´t tell what it was exactly. That Brandon was not to be trusted? That he knew already. He doubted his brother would outright kill him, but… there was something in him that made him unable to trust him. And some days it was as if… he couldn´t recognize his own brother in the boy. Why…

The same weirwood appeared in front of him, with the same boy standing in front of the trunk. He extended him hands again, the blood coming out of his eyes and wrists visible. The weirwoods seemed to talk as the boy tried to approach him, his mouth gurgling with blood as he tried to touch him.

“No, stay away” Robb took another step back. “Why are you haunting me?! You killed yourself!! You did this!! Whatever that happened, it´s your fault!! You turned Jon insane with your death!! That my family is in pieces is your fault!!”

“Treason…” a voice floated around them, terrible as if it had come from the Old Gods straight. “Treason that broke the blood… treason that broke the chain… treason that brought the Wrath… Treason… treason… treason that broke destiny and brought forward a new one…” the Stark didn´t understand. “The boy is dead… the hero has risen… only when you have accepted it will you know what to do.”

“Rys… Rys…” came out of the throat of the dead boy. “…Rys”

It was obvious that something came before, but Robb couldn´t understand it. Since Bran told him that Jon had Targaryen blood, he had been wondering if that was the reason that made Daenerys marry him. He also had several theories of how he could have inherited it… and how he could have developed the madness. How his descendants could have developed the madness. But he couldn´t think about it more, as he fell through the same drop that landed him in another vision of that future that wasn´t anymore. And he was in… New Castle? Yes, in New Castle. He recognized the Merman´s Court.

“Has that woman no shame? Or honor?” Robb´s eyes wandered towards where the voice came from. He barely recognized her with how old she looked, but it was Lady Winafryd Manderly. And the Lady next to her… Lady Wylla Manderly? “Doing that when news of the dead of kin have arrived… Queen Sansa is truly a disgrace.”

“And the one in the South is no better” her sister looked around, as if suspecting the walls have ears. “We really committed a mistake by naming that woman Queen. We should have stayed loyal to the other, even if he had Dragon´s blood, he is more wolf than that snake.”

“Well said, my lady” someone appeared, a man wearing the silver fist on scarlet field of House Glover. Was he…

“Lord Gawen” Lady Winafryd nodded to him. “When did you decide?”

“When our Queen toasted to her grandnephew´s death. I can stand much, but… that was too much” Robb felt the bile rising through his throat. Sansa did what?!! “A grandnephew that, I might say, I also have a connection with.”

“I thought you had severed that connection years ago, Glover” someone else appeared. A big young man with the bear of House Mormont in his surcoat. “That you got rid of the boy before you realized how great he could become.”

“I´m sure Larence still remembers me and Erena, Lord Jeor” he answered. “If we were to ask for his help in contacting the true King of Winter, he will help us. As his personal knight, he can arrange a meeting with the King in private.”

“That´s what you think” the Mormont continued. “In his place, I would be resentful.”

“But what other option we have? There must always be a Stark in Winterfell, always.” Lady Manderly explained. “Other Houses are joining us by day. The Flints, the Forresters, the Umbers, the Karstarks… even the Ryswells and the Dustins are willing to join us. We only need the King.”

“And you will have him, I assure you” Gawen promised, raising his cup. “To a true Stark in the Throne of Winter.”

“To a true Stark”

Robb shot up in that moment, breathing hard. Just what… what had happened then? What had Sansa done to turn every House in the North against the STARKS? And Bran… what had happened? Why… what… how… who… WHY?!!!

Chapter Text

Things have been moving really quickly lately, thought Tywin as he and his retinue arrived to Casterly Rock. First, Robb Stark had gotten betrothed to Lady Alys Karstark and his grandson Joffrey was tentatively betrothed to Sansa Stark too. Tentatively because the fool had showed his worst side to the Starks, who already were at odds with them after Lysa Tully´s idiotic plot to pin them and the wolves against each other. Not that the Lord of the North and his ilk think that the Lannisters had something to do with Jon Arryn´s death, but if the Mad Trout decided to pin the murder on them, it was because of something. And with Joffrey acting like another Aerys, Eddard Stark was doubting about betrothing his daughter to the Crown Prince. Even Tywin himself was doubting if the boy should be allowed to inherit his father´s Throne at all or it would be better to dispose of him quickly.

Secondly, Jamie had finally decided to stop being a glorified bodyguard and left the Kingsguard to become who he was always meant to be. And getting married. Lady Brienne of Tarth might not be who he imagined as the next Lady Lannister, but the Evenstar´s daughter had a good head on her shoulders and a sensate young woman. Her appearance might not be the most pleasing, but she would do well. Tywin also respected the Evenstar enough and that she was his heiress and her children with Jaime will inherit the Sapphire Island too was a good boon of the match. Which was turning much better than the one he had once planned for his first son with the Tully girl. The Old Lion could only thank the Gods and his luck for Aerys´ stupidity, if not, he might have ended up committing a mistake. Thanks to that, he had avoided his son being married to that unworthy madwoman.

Thirdly, Edmure Tully had finally gotten betrothed and was set to marry Roslin Frey in a year´s time. Cersei had informed him of that, laughing as if it was a funny thing, joking about the Tullys losing face and their reputation even among their bannermen plummeting after the scandal of Lysa Arryn. Tywin didn´t consider it funny, but gave it a thought. Another heir of a Lord Paramount who has been single for so long finally was doing his duty to produce an heir for his House. If the Frey girl was anything like her father, then Riverrun would soon be populated with small red weasels, too many to count or for Edmure to know what to do with. Now that he thought about it, if the Gods were good, he would soon have a grandson to betroth. It was not usual to engage or marry babies to one another, but it wouldn´t also be the first time for it to happen. Maybe he would get a match with the Lord Paramounts of the Riverlands after all… so long as the child was healthy and sane.

“It´s been a long time since I have been here” Jaime commented by his side, staring ahead at the Rock. Behind, Tyrion talked in hushed tones with his daughter. “Since Cersei got married.”

And now that he thought about it, Tyrion was a thing that should be moving along too. His second son might be a stunted fool, but he was a Lannister and must do his duty. Besides, after his first marriage proved that he was capable of producing healthy children, he should marry again without much concern from the parents. Tywin might look down on his granddaughter Lanna and despise her whore of a mother, but at least they were useful. Since Lanna was shown in King´s Landing, more marriage proposals have arrived for Tyrion. Now he had more options than Sybell Spicer´s girl, Jeyne Westerling, and Tanda Stokeworth´s lackwit, Lollys. Even Bracken had offered one of his girls, something Tywin was tempted to accept, but waited to see if he got a better offer. With time, he might.

“My Lord, Casterly Rock is yours” the master at arms said when they finally entered the courtyard. Tywin dismounted and went directly to his solar, where his steward and master were already waiting for him.

“Is everything being prepared?”

“Yes, my lord, as you requested.” His steward answered, earning a nod.

Everything was going according to the plan. He had clarified any misunderstands with Eddard Stark and the Vale Lords present at court, reigned in Cersei so she controlled her wretched spawn and even settled everything for Jaime´s betrothal. In half a year, the Evenstar´s daughter will come and his heir would be married in the Sept of Casterly Rock. That was why he sent a raven ahead of himself with instructions for his castellan and steward. He would have begun preparation later, but a castle the size of the Lannister ancient holding needed time to prepare for such a grand event as the wedding of the heir. In fact, the time was pressing, so much that they were forced to hire more servants to clean the Rock from ceiling to floor.

“It´s a little bit uncomfortable” Jaime said as a seamstress put fabric over fabric over his body, trying to decided with which to make the heir to Casterly Rock´s wedding garb while said boy whined. Tywin didn´t really care. After all, it was his son´s fault for taking so long to take a bride. “Aunt Genna has begun with the wedding cloak?”

“Yes” his father answered. Finally, a question he cared at least a little bit about. “I sent a raven to her to begin working on it. Her reply was waiting for me here.”

“Thank the Gods” Jaime sighed in relief. “I want everything to go right.”

“And it will, my son, it will”

He hadn´t had the chance to wrap a wedding cloak on Brienne´s shoulders last time, so distracted he was by the recently finished Long Night and Cersei, but this time… this time he wanted do everything right. To Brienne, to Jocelyn… even to Tommen and Myrcella. He will take care of his family. The seamstress finished with her work silently and then retired without making a comment. The Lion of Lannister didn´t comment either, he trusted her, or at least the fear his father made everyone in the Westerlands feel, to make a good work. Lord Tywin went to his solar, noticing that his first son followed him there. Odd, Jaime avoided that place every time he could. What could he want?

“Is there something you want, my son?”

“Yes, I want to know what you and Tyrion learned about Littlefinger´s little plot to pit us against the Starks” Tywin froze for a second with his quill in the air. He certainly hadn´t expected Jaime to know about that. Normally, Jaime would agree with him, but this time he had the advantage of having come back in time, so…

“Where did you hear that?”

“Nowhere, I only heard a few rumors at court about Baelish bragging of having taken both Tully sisters maidenheads in Riverrun and I then the squire Tyrion interrogated mentioned a former lover Lysa Arryn was mad for… how far could I be?” Tywin had to give it to him, that was a easy deduction to make. “So Baelish…”

“The whoremonguer was killed with an extremely precise cut across the throat that cut the principal arteries. A single slash” the Lord of Casterly Rock said, lowering his writing implement. “A normal cutthroat from Flea Bottom wouldn´t be skilled enough to make it, not even if you could have sneaked him into the Red Keep.”

“So, a professional” his son answered. He expected such, Arya Stark took pride in her skill as an assassin. After all, not everyone survived the training of the Faceless Men. “You think it was a Faceless Man?”

“I haven´t thought about it, but it´s a possibility” his father conceded. “After Baelish body was sent to the Silent Sisters for the last rituals, Gold Cloak agents of ours. They found the registries of his… transactions. It seemed that the esteemed Master of Coin has embezzled several million of gold dragons from the Crown.”

“Typical” he knew, but that was not the worst Littlefinger had done, even at that point. Come on, father, tell. “What else?”

“He also lent that money and the one he won as a brother owner to whoever needed in with an obscene interest” Tywin frowned. “He accepted everything as insurance, money, people… secrets. He also won secrets that would help him control powerful people through other ways much less pleasant…” he made a disgusted face. “It´s enough for several people with the recurses to order such an assassination to want him dead.”

“In the end, no one knows who killed the esteemed Lord Baelish” well, no one who hadn´t travelled in time. After all, no one but them knew that Arya Stark was a fully trained Faceless Man. “But you didn´t do it, so who?”

“I already told you, I don´t know. There are too many suspects.” The Old Lion wasn´t joking. Baelish´s secrets were delivered to him straight after he was declared dead, the contents of the document surprising even him. “Lady Anya Waynwood had a debt that was impossible to pay, Paxter Redwyne had tastes that would doom him, the same for Lyn Corbray… too many suspects.”

“I see” and none of them was a Stark. He had to give it to Lady Arya, even if he were to accuse her, no one would believe him. To everyone, she was just a little Lady… just as the Bastard of Winterfell was just a bastard. “What would you do if you knew something that it´s truth but no one would believe you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing” he got up. “I will see you later, father”

Tywin remained in his place, thinking about what Jaime had just said. Something that he knew it´s truth but no one else would believe him if he told… they would believe the Old Lion, the Destroyer of the Reynes and the Tarbecks, no? Or the Kingslayer? But let´s say that they won´t and begin from that. It had to be something big, something that threatened the vision the world had of something for someone not to believe his word. Perhaps… a woman having killed Baelish? Perhaps, no one would believe a woman would be able to do it, but the Faceless Men had profited of that way to know the world before. They recruit women, he was aware of that. But how would Jaime know? And what did he know that even Tywin wouldn´t believe it?
The Lannister Lord passed a hand through his face, he didn´t need to think about this right now. His heir was getting married, his daughter was Queen and even his dwarf son was a sought-after prize. These were great times for House Lannister and he refused to let a whoremonguer, a dead one at all, to ruin them. So he continued to plan the wedding, not completely forgetting about Jaime´s words. He ordered Vylar back to King´s Landing to inform him of anything out of the ordinary that happened, but the most interesting thing he got was the breach that seemed to have opened between Cersei and the girl that was supposed to marry Joffrey. He sent a letter to his daughter telling her to be friendly to the future Queen and continued with his work, knowing that Cersei would obey.

The day of the wedding finally arrived. Lord Selwyn, his daughter and his committee arrived, Brienne wearing a dress she was clearly uncomfortable in. They shared the pleasantries required for the occasion and Tywin also received his bannermen into Casterly Rock. The next day, he broke his fast in company of his brother and the other men, who gave gifts to the Lannister heir. Lord Tarth even gave his future goodson a sword that even Tywin admired. It was practically a work of art, a deadly one. Who was the smith that did it? He would like to bring him to Casterly Rock. Robert and Cersei didn´t come, but sent a goblet for the groom and bride with the symbol of Tarth and the Lannister Lion. His daughter didn´t send anything for the bride… it seemed that he needed to have a serious conversation with her the next time he visited King´s Landing. For now…

“Who is the smith that made that sword?” he asked as he watched Jaime unsheat the blade. It was not Valyrian steel, but something told Tywin that the smith that made it knew how to work with the material. The ripples at least made him think so. “I would like to meet him.”

“I don´t know if that would be prudent” Lord Selwyn answered, looking at his cup. “The boy is young, even if you didn´t believe it. A former apprentice of Tobho Mott.”

“His master must be proud of him, for such a young apprentice of him to make such a good work” the Lord of Casterly Rock continued. “But why wouldn´t it be prudent?”

“Gendry is a bastard son of Robert Baratheon” the Evenstar finally explained. “The first time I saw him I couldn´t believe it… I almost called him Renly.”

Then perhaps the bastard should remain where he was. The Old Lion wouldn´t bat in eyelash to eliminate the boy were he to turn into a threat, but for now he would let him live quietly and forge in a distant island that would soon belong to someone of Lannister blood. Perhaps he would even let him live.

As the day progressed, everything seemed to be going according to plan. Jaime and Lady Brienne exchanged vows in the sept, everyone clapped and they passed to the Main Hall to enjoy the banquet. Conversation flowed, along with wine. Even Genna seemed to be enjoying the conversation and she didn´t seem to enjoy anything since Tywin had married Lanna to her grandson. And talking about Lanna, the girl was talking to Tyrion and Sandor Clegane, a shy smile on her face. Several courses after, a drunken Lord called for the bedding. For the first time since he remembered, the Ladies seemed more eager for the bedding than the Lords, who only carried Lady Brienne to her wedding chamber. The women did tear the clothes away from Jaime before he reached the room. Tywin left with them, convinced that nothing could go wrong…

Until the next morning, when he was woken up by long bangs on his door. He opened it to find maester Creylen on the other side, carrying a sheet with blood. The Lord was about to ask him what was the problem. If the sheet had blood it meant that the Lady was a maid and thus everything was fine, but then a raven scroll was thrusted into his hand by the wheezing old man. He opened it and his eyes went wide. Jaime´s words some days ago returned to his mind as he re-read the scroll Grandmaester Myros sent him from the Red Keep. He could barely believe it.

“Father?” Jaime asked, approaching behind the maester. His son looked barely awake, but very satisfied. “What is happening?”

“I will depart for King´s Landing as soon as the festivities ended.”

“Wha… Father, what happened?” he asked, worried. “Something happened to Tommen or Myrcella? Did Joffrey do something?”

“No” Tywin answered, frowning. Did everyone know about his grandson´s behavior? “There has been another murder in the capital. It was during a Feast Robert offered after a boar nearly skewered him during a hunt.”

“Hum…” so that has already happened, eh? “What makes this murder so special that you want to return to my sweet sister so soon?”

“They found something in the cup the victim drank off, a silver coin with a pattern that is known through all Essos. And that´s not all” the Old Lion pocketed his scroll. “Someone is targeting our family and has involved the Faceless Man. Whoever it is, I won´t let him sink the Legacy I have spent so much time trying to build. I will end them.”

-A few days before-

Arya slipped away as his father talked to the King, taking advantage of the huge carcass of the boar hiding her nearly completely to enter one of the castle´s halls and then the hidden pathways of Maegor the Cruel. That way, she managed to reach the Tower of the Hand and take off her disguise without being found out. When she had heard that his father and his men were accompanying Robert Baratheon in his hunt, having run out of dissuasive arguments that worked on the stubborn pig of a man, she quickly slipped from the Septa and stole the face of one of the servant boys to join them disguised as a servant. And it paid off, she managed to pierce the wine skin while Lancel Lannister wasn´t looking so most of the drugged wine ended up on the forest floor. So, when the boar came to Robert, he was sober enough to gut the pig instead of being gutted himself. Of course that wasn´t the end of the hunt, but it was shorter than it had been last time. Sated his desire for blood and without his beloved wine, the King screamed at his squire and declared that they would return. Eddard practically sighed in relief when he saw his friend turning his horse towards King´s Landing. And now here she was.

“Lady Arya!! Where have you been?!!” Septa Mordane screamed when she saw her youngest charge exit her room. The girl wasn´t in the mood to deal with her, so she went back in. “Arya!! Arya Stark!! Open the door!!!”

The Faceless Woman ignored her as she began to practice her moves in her room. Why should she practice her sewing or singing or dancing? As Syrio Forel once told her, boy or girl, she was a sword, that is all. And in the House of Black and White, she had learned that lesson better than in any training yard or castle in the whole of Westeros. But more than a sword, she was a knife. A small, certain one that slitted the throats of her enemies without them knowing she was there. It was what she had done with Baelish… of course, she made sure he saw her as he was choking with his own blood. The Mockingbird´s eyes widened in such a comical way, almost as comical as when she told him that the Starks sent their regards…

“Arya, can you open the door?” her father´s voice reached her through the door. She stopped as her wooden sword pointed at the door. Seriously, she missed Needle. It would have been so good to have something of her brother there… but Jon was no more. “Arya…”

“I´m coming” she said, opening the door to let him through. Eddard seemed worried, almost as if he was afraid of talking to his own daughter. “What?”

“Arya, I want you to answer me honestly. Did you kill someone today?”

“What?”

“I know that you offed Baelish. I can´t prove it, but I know it. You hate him for what he did to our family and while I hated him too, I don´t want you to dirty your hands with blood again” he grabbed her hands. “Arya, if you disappeared to kill someone…”

“I didn´t” the girl answered. “I followed you to make sure both you and that fat friend of yours got out of the forest alive. I had to shred Lancel Lannister´s wine skin, which made you return early. You should thank me, I practically saved the King´s life by doing that.”

“I thank you for that help, my girl, but I would prefer if you remain with the Septa and your sister for your lessons instead of taking dangerous endeavors” he caressed her hair. “You are no longer on the run or in the House of Black and White, you are safe…”

“Who is safe in this wretched city, father? Not you and certainly not us. We are the eye of the storm, where people smile at your face while preparing to plunge a dagger at your back. And being good or honorable isn´t going to save us. Didn´t you learn that from last time?”

“Arya…”

“What help would it be for me to learn to sew or sing while you need me doing what I do best and covering your back?” she stared at him. “You better wise up, or we aren´t going to last much longer than we did before everything started.”

Arya walked away, looking for Nymeria. The direwolf was getting nervous at being held in the kennels all day, only allowed a bit of freedom when her girl came in the afternoon. The Stark could feel her unrest, probably more than Sansa. As she opened the kennels of both Nym and Lady to allow them to walk in the Godswood, she saw something familiar. A very notorious head full of half white, half red hair. What was he doing here? By now, he should be in the Black Cells waiting for Yoren, but if he was still free it meant… without thinking, Arya followed Jaqen H'ghar until a desert hallway.

“Valar Morghulis, wolf girl” the Faceless man turned to see her. He hadn´t changed at all, but perhaps that was the point of using that face.

“Valar Dohaerys, no one” she answered, her hand near the hidden dagger. She didn´t know if she could defeat the more experienced assassin in single combat, but she wouldn´t go down without a fight. “Are you here for me?”

“The name hasn´t been spoken, even with all wolf girl has done” the other said, looking at her hand. “But wolf girl is in luck, many names in her list have been spoken by the Many Faced God himself and a man is here to deliver them the gift.”

“Why are the Faceless Men interfering now?”

“Because God has given us the name and this man the knowledge of what could happen if they are not eliminated. Wolf girl too” he smirked as he approached. “The question is… will this man deliver them the gift or will wolf girl do it with her own hand?”

“They are mine”

“Nice words, wolf girl, but words the wind takes” he held out a pouch full of coins. Coins of the Faceless Men, covered with poison. The Faceless Men didn´t claim authorship of their kills much, but when they wanted to, these coins were their preferred method. Arya had killed with them before, so she knew how to use them. “A name I will have by the end of the night.”

“Why?”

“You took a name from the Many Faced God and a name you should give” shit, she had saved Robert Baratheon, now she had to offer someone else in exchange. “I will be watching, wolf girl, and if wolf girl fails, then I will take a name, whatever name.”

The Lorathi disappeared as Arya wondered whose name should she choose. Her old list was one she held close to heart, people she still wanted to kill, personally and painfully, but she had some reservations over who she should choose. The death of the Queen or Crown Prince of the Seven Kingdoms could cause a political uproar that might cause troubles for House Stark, so, even if she wanted to kill Cersei and her bastard spawn, she couldn´t. The Mountain and his men were in the Westerlands celebrating the wedding of Jaime Lannister to Brienne of Tarth (how Brienne could endure the Kingslayer, she couldn´t tell). The same for Amory Lorch and Tywin Lannister… and the Hound, but he was removed and she wasn´t going to kill him. She had already offed Baelish and Trant… had she known that Jaquen would appear, she would have waited to kill the both of them. What to…

It was then that she realized it. Her smile widened as she hid the coins and went to prepare herself for the feast Robert ordered prepared with the enormous boar that should have killed him as the main dish. She arrived with her family, clumsily bowing before the King. As the feast progressed, Arya Underfoot managed to slip from the Septa and her father. Pretty much like ever. As they searched for her, Cat the servant girl walked around serving wine. After one passing, the girl disappeared behind a pilar and Arya appeared again, ready to be found by the Lord Hand.

“What were you doing?” Eddard asked his daughter as she smiled.

“Only playing, father, feasts are bored and I have already eaten plenty of boar. Do you think I could retire to my room…”

A strange sound followed by a scream resounded over the music. All the eyes turned only to see Ser Ilyn Payne, the King´s Justice, with his hand around his neck as he coughed, turning purple in his effort to breath. Arya took her hands to her mouth, playing the role of horrified young lady to perfection. As the headsman collapsed (this must have been how Joffrey looked in the Purple Wedding), the goblet he still had in his hand did too. The iron coin of the Faceless man rolled out of it when it hit the floor, no longer coated with the Strangler. Yes, normally the poison was in the form of amethyst crystals, but the House of Black and White had developed their own version of the poison for their use. It made their lives easier.

As the servants took away the corpse of the knight, Eddard Stark´s hand close around his youngest daughter´s wrist with the force of an iron manacle. He knew that she had done it, he new it… but couldn´t prove it. And even if he could, he wouldn´t. Why had she done this? Why did Arya, his littlest girl, have to do things like murder his enemies? He should be the one protecting her, not backwards.

“This is war, father, don´t misunderstand it. A war that is played with words, but a war” Arya told him before going to bed. “And in war, we need to cover each other´s backs.”

-The day after-

When Ned saw Cersei Lannister approaching him in a simple dress, he felt a flashback to the last time they had spoken in the same circumstances. That time, she had admitted sleeping with her own brother and birthing his bastards. He doubted she would this time, specially because she should have no idea that he knew her secret. He hadn´t taken Jon Arryn´s book out of the Library, hadn´t visited Robert´s bastards… he didn´t even mention them. And with the murders of Trant, Baelish and Payne, there should be other things in the Queen´s mind than a Hand who didn´t know of the bastardy of the royal children.

“Your Grace, to what do I owe this pleasure?” he asked bowing his head as the woman approached him, her cat like eyes never leaving his face.

“I had a talk with Lady Sansa the other day. Apparently, she had secretly heard something from you that got her the idea that my brother Jamie” the way she said the name made disgust roll in Ned´s gut. “has bastards.”

“Seriously?” he tried with all his might to act the surprised part. “I don´t know what she might have heard, but I haven´t talked about the Kingslayer since releasing him from the Kingsguard” a seed of the truth was important to convince. “I also ignored that there was a possibility of him siring children on some poor maid.”

“And where could dear Sansa” Cersei continued with that sweet voice dripping with poison. “hear something like that?”

“From a maid, perhaps, or a servant. There are many going around” the Northerner got up. “You know what, your grace, I´m going to interrogate my household. If there is someone spreading rumors about your brother, I´m going to find out.”

He left before hearing the Queen´s answer. He doubted he had convinced her… no, he was sure that she didn´t believe him, so he was going to have to be very careful around her from then on. Or ask Arya… no, he would fix this problem himself. And another thing, he has to keep an eye on whatever both his daughters did. He was worried about Arya. It was not normal or healthy how easy killing came to her. As for Sansa… a closer eye would be better. After all, she had just sent Cersei Lannister his way. Last time, her naivety had caused a similar situation that ended up in his death. But there was no naivety anymore in the woman his daughter had become. No, this was a cunning, cold woman who can´t be trusted. And he didn´t want to end up in the executioner´s block again.

Chapter Text

It has been a long time, Daenerys thought as she, Helaena and Ser Jorah with their modest entourage, most of them warriors from the Temple of the Lord of the Light, entered the city of Astapor. The masters had acted just as she predicted, guided by their greed, and said that they would sell her Unsullied. So she dressed in her finest clothes, not Westerossi nor Ghiscari in their style, but reminiscent of Old Valyria. In black and red, she looked a Targaryen even more than the last time. She even forgo the crown she had received in Qarth for a more traditional hairdo of the dragonlords, the thick braids held together with hairpins. It reminded her a bit of her Dothraki style… was Missandei used to it in this reality or not?

“Look, my Queen, the Masters are displaying their Unsullied” Helaena said as she peeked through the window. Around them, the dragons hissed. They had grown so fast this time… soon they were not going to be able to travel with them. “It´s surprising how many they have.”

“I thought that someone who grew up in a city like Volantis isn´t more used to slaves” Daenerys said as she took some wine. “Not like I find it a problem, I also feel nauseated when I see how many lives they ruined.”

“And I too” the lady sat down straight. “House Saeragyon might have been stablished in Volantis and lived behind the Black Walls, but in that aspect we have remained deeply Westerossi. We despise slavery in all of it´s forms. Saera Targaryen instilled that in all her children and they did in their own children.”

“Then how did you keep your pleasure house supplied? Or your small army of sellswords?”

“We never bought or sell slaves, they were always volunteer workers. Both for the paladins and the pleasure house” she smiled softly. “Of course, some of them were former slaves that had escaped from their masters and sought refuge, which later decided to stay and serve, others come to us in other forms… but we never tolerated slavery. We always believed there were other forms to gain gold with honest work.”

“I´m glad to know” the Queen bit a finger. “I only wish it´s enough for this time to turn different. And faster.”

The carriage stopped after a few minutes and Daenerys exited, followed by Helaena. Both her and her handmaiden seemed to immediately catch the eyes of Kanzys mo Naklos, who was as rude as before. His habit of calling her a whore was also getting on her nerves. After so much time being addressed with the outmost respect as both a Queen and a Liberator, returning to be scorned like that was something the wasn´t used to as much as before. Even so, she remained calm as Kranzys called her demeaning things in her mother tongue, cutting the nipple of one of the slave soldiers after she asked exactly how hard they were.

But there was something odd this time. Before Missandei made sure to erase all the insults from his translation of her master´s words. Now, she didn´t bother as much as before. And the masters didn´t realize that, as many of them didn´t speak the Westerossi tongue. Daenerys stared at her friend and handmaiden, who discreetly winked at her. As if she had known her for a long time… was this her Missandei really? As she continued to deal with Kranzys, she noticed something else. The way Grey Worm was looking at her was also weird, almost… expecting. It was not something an Unsullied would do, not even one in training. This was the Grey Worm she remembered, the one that remembered how to be human.

“Who would have thought?” Daenerys asked as she and her entourage went away.

“What?” Helaena asked as she cut the cheese and bread.

“That we would get help from the inside” the Queen answered, calm, receiving the lunch when her handmaiden finished with her own part. “It doesn´t matter, inside help or not, the destiny of this city is already written. And I don´t plan on being as merciful to the Masters as I was before” she smirked. “Any chance that they are not going to accept my deal?”

“I don´t think so” her companion answered. “From what I could read, they are all very interested in your dragons. They are a… rarity, to put it some way. And a symbol of power. The greedy leeches won´t let the opportunity to have one pass.” She crossed her arms. “Sure that you will win the fight, your grace?”

“I did it before, I will do it now. Besides… I´m going to have some help. Not only from the Unsullied, but from my own surprise.”

“I´m already excited, my Queen”

As Daenerys and Helaena waited, they shared the caring of the dragons together. Drogon and his brothers still liked their mother the most, but had learned to tolerate the lady-in-waiting´s presence. At least more than Ser Jorah and the other members of the entourage. Perhaps they felt the blood of the dragon in her. Anyway, they didn´t have to wait for long. After a few days, a messenger from the Good Masters arrived to the encampment and announced to the Dragon Queen that she had a deal. Every Unsullied, even those that aren´t ready for the fight, in exchange for one dragon. Daenerys had to refrain herself from smirking, the same as before. It was so great when she had the upper hand. So she let her handmaiden help her into a fresh dress and arrange her hair into an style they said Queen Rhaenyra favored when young. The crown that was gifted to her in Qarth was now placed in her head. As she walked towards Astapor with all her entourage and her dragons flying next to her, leashes in their necks. They didn´t like it, but will go through with the charade for their mother.

“Here they are, my dragons for you to choose” Daenerys announced when she arrived to the plaza where the masters planned to do the exchange. Their greedy piglet eyes landed on the three animals, but specially on Drogon. The biggest, the most powerful… her own mount. “As soon as we do the exchange, one of them is yours.”

Kranzys made it as if he was pondering, never to leave Drogon out of his sight. Missandei walked behind her master, her tiny hand inside her robes. Could she had made herself with a knife? Grey Worm was able to sneak her one? And she was not the only one, other slaves around the masters had also moved discreetly, as if preparing for something. She nearly laughed, this was going to be so easy that it was almost funny. She came here to start a slave revolt… only to find that the revolt was already on the way.

“Tell the bitch she has her army” as soon as Kranzys said those words and the whip changed hands, knives were flashed and the slaves pounced on their masters. Blood started to flow as the obese cows screamed, their fat giving them some protection from the blades that now tried to end them. Drogon spit fire on Kranzys, making the master scream until he burned alive.

“Stupid vermin!!” one of the Grazdans screamed as he tried to strangle the slave that plunged the knife on his back. “Unsullied, kill them!!”

“They are not your own anymore” Daenerys lifted her hand. “They are mine”

“You bitch… do you speak High Valyrian?”

“It´s my mother language” she answered.

“You won´t get out of this city alive”

“I don´t think that”

As if they had planned it exhaustively, a roar made the whole city trembled as the beating of wings was heard. The Cannibal, bigger than ever before, appeared in the sky, opening it´s gigantic maw and spewed flames over the soldiers exiting the pyramids. It must have been difficult to maneuver such an enormous beast to attack a city without harming more people than necessary, but her husband had always been a marvelous rider, be his mount a horse or a dragon. In that moment, more knives were plunged into the masters and other slaves, getting brave, joined their fellows with whatever they had at hand. As they teared the present masters apart, Daenerys addressed her troops. Before anything, she threw away the whip and told them the same speech as before. She still believed in that… every person who followed her, must do it out of their own volition. Fortunately, she didn´t have a shortage of volunteers. Even amongst the Unsullied.

“Khaleesi, I´m so glad to see you again” Missandei said as she lowered the knife she had been ready to plunge into Kranzy´s back, that if Drogon didn´t set him on fire first. “The Lord of Harmony promised me that I would be back at your side if I choose to return here. And I did…”

“My Queen” Grey Worm approached, bowing deeply to her as the Cannibal flew over them, spewing fire over the pyramids. The families of masters exited quickly, scared, only to be caught by the multitude of newly freed slaves and murdered. “I see that Morghul is happy to be reunited with his bond.”

“And my husband?” she asked, wondering if her husband had finally accepted himself. He was still in the process of doing that when she died.

“Khaleesi, I had the pleasure of being by the Prince Consort´s side all the time during his Regency and… he grew so much. He is finally a man worthy of you, my Queen, and has shed his Stark furs… even if he kept the white beast by his side.”

“I don´t mind Ghost” Daenerys smiled. She loved that direwolf and that direwolf only. The rest of them could go hang themselves from their beloved trees. “Does he still insist to call himself by the name of a traitor?”

“Like I said, he shed his Stark furs, all of them.” Grey Worm smiled. “You know that I never trust him, especially considering what he did. But by the end of things, I was glad I served under the Black Dragon, not the White Wolf or the Bastard of Winterfell.”

“Good”

Morghul landed near in that moment and, jumping recklessly from the enormous lizard, was her husband. And not only him, but little Larence Snow… Larence Saeragyon. Helaena gasped as her own husband followed her Prince and run towards her. With them, less excited, was a dornish looking man she had never seen before with a white cloak. She opened her mouth to ask who he was when Jon grabbed her by the waist and twirled her. He was actually crying in joy at seeing her again, in the middle of that destroyed city. They kissed, passionately celebrating their reunion. By their side, Larence and Helaena also had their reunion, almost as passionately as them. Or perhaps as. Years of widowhood had clearly been hard on the both of them. Much more than being dead was on both the wives.

“Don´t ever do that to me again” he said to her. “It was hard enough for me to be the one to remain behind, to raise our children alone… I don´t want to do it ever again.”

“I would call that karma, your punishment for choosing your evil cousins to me” she kissed her lips lightly. “And now?”

“Now I´m going to make sure they repent ever have crossed my path”

“My Queen” the dornishman bowed.

“Let me introduce you to Ser Arthur Dayne of the Kingsguard… chosen by the Stranger himself to help us in our efforts.”

“Ser Barristan told me a lot about you, Ser” Daenerys nodded with her head. “Thank you for keeping my husband alive… both before and after his birth.”

“I will endeavor to do the same for you and the children you have together, your Grace.”

The reunited Targaryen couple kissed and kissed again, enjoying the taste of the other´s lips as they rememorated the paste. After some time, they relocated to one of the pavilions Dany´s people had built. They would have relocated to one of the pyramids, but Morghul had set them all on fire. There, Larence and Helaena said goodbye for the night for their own private reunion party. Ser Jorah and Ser Arthur stood guard on the entrance, while Grey Worm and Missandei´s brothers guarded the place where Morghul nested with the rest of the small dragons. They had been surprised when the other two of Jon´s dragons, one bronze and the other pink, crawled towards the Saeragyons. Helaena named her pink dragon Palladia, for the lesser goddess of Valyria that was the handmaiden of Meleys, and Gaemon named his Urrax, for the great dragon that only a magic sword could slain. Daenerys thought they were nice name… for the dragonriders that would be the most loyal to her. But that was for later, now she wanted a nice night with her husband.

“Tell me how they were” she asked once they had sat down in one of the plush cushions that littered the tent. “Our children… Rhaegar, Daemon, Daenys and Rhaella… tell me how they lived.”

“Rhaella… Rhaella died the same night as you, I´m sorry” a sharp pain crossed her heart. Her dear daughter, her baby at breast, dead at such a young age… and she remembered Daenys was also there… had her other daughter also… “Daenys was fine, I managed to stop Arya before she could cause permanent harm. She… she grew up… she married the man she loved… and her children were beautiful.”

“Was that all? A loving wife, a beautiful princess and a mother?”

“No, certainly not” Jon smiled as he remembered his daughter. “She was a fierce little thing, not listening to anyone but herself. Not even me. It was her idea to marry Jacaerys Saeragyon, I was going to betroth her to Lord Velaryon, but… she was like that. Also quite the warrior” he laughed. “Her name was so famous by the time we assaulted Westeros that they were already calling her the Nightmare. You know… because of the Dreamer. The Nightmare.”

“I can see that. Always spirited, no? that girl… kicked my womb harder than her brothers together” they laughed together. “And Rhaegar and Daemon?”

“Rhaegar was a wise ruler, beyond his age. By the time he sat on your throne, he didn´t need me anymore. But… he always listened to a wise counsel, from Doniphos or from me. And Daemon… he was the rogue one. Always in some kind of trouble, that boy… even after he married and had children. The Rouge Prince come Again, he liked to be called.”

“Please tell me didn´t have his own Mysaria”

“No, Daemon didn´t like anything. I found that hard to believe at first… but then I understood what he meant by that. He did his duty, yes, but liking it… that was another history. He enjoyed spending time with Tahaegor Saeragyon, but he wasn´t attracted to him or anything.”

“Wish… I had been there for them”

“Now you will be… you will be there for years and years to see them all grow up” Daenerys smiled and approached to kiss him again. But as the kiss heated, as she tried to continue, Jon pushed her away. “No, not yet…”

“Why? Am I not attractive enough for you? Or do you still have some reticence to sleep with your aunt?”

“That is in the past, where I buried Jon Snow” he answered. “No, my concern is you, my dear wife. For all that mind body is that of a grown woman, you are still a girl in body. I can´t harm you in the same way as Viserys I did to Aemma Arryn, I can´t do that to you… and not only because it might harm your ability to have children.”

“Even if I drink moon tea?”

“That might harm you too, so… I will wait. Wait like Jaeherys did until his Alysanne matured… so you we can safely couple later.”

“I will have to wait then too” Dany kissed him. “Until then… tell me more about the children?”

“A pleasure”

-In King´s Landing-

Ned Stark crossed the halls of the Red Keep wondering how Tywin Lannister could have ordered something to the Grand Maester without being the Hand of the King. But with the recent events at the Red Keep, he could hardly blame the Lion Lord for asking for an investigation. Too many things have gone wrong lately, all the Red Keep seemed terrified out of their minds… and he could lay it all at the feet of his dear daughter Arya. Of course, he didn´t have a proof that it had been Arya, but who else could perpetrate the crimes that paralyzed nearly the entire King´s Landing?

Ilyn Payne had only been the first victim. Or perhaps not, because the body of Meryn Trant was found recently and Petyr Baelish was dead in a suspicious way too. But he had been the only one with the confirmation that a Faceless Man or Woman had a hand on it. A few days later, Boros Blount had been thrown from the window of his room in the White Sword Tower, all the way to the floor. And not even a week later, Lancel Lannister, squire to the King, had been found hanged in his room. The Grand maester had investigated both bodies before they were given to the Silent Sisters for preparation and found poisoned coins in both throats. Apparently, they had been poisoned before their killer postured them. With an iron coin covered in the Strangler. He had stern words with Arya after that, but she only shrugged and told him that she was not the only Faceless Man in the world. Ned had almost believed her history about Jaquen H´qar, but then, when a furious Tywin and a grieving Kevan arrived to take Lancel back to be interned in Casterly Rock, occurred something that made Ned confine his daughter to her room for the foreseeable future. Apparently, several of the Mountain´s men had decided to follow them only because they wanted to enjoy King´s Landing. They stopped at an alehouse in Flea Bottom… and were all poisoned by the Strangler. In the wine jar they all drank of, someone found iron coins in the bottom. And while no one mourned Chiswyck, Dunsen, Polliver, Raff and a man they only came to know as the Tickler, as Hand of the King, Ned couldn´t let anyone go through the city murdering people. Not even his own daughter.

“Welcome, my lords” Grand maester Myros bowed to them as they entered the room where the half decomposed corpse of Ser Meryn and the slightly less decomposed one of Petyr Baelish laid. Tywin Lannister was also there, his face stern. “I´m glad you came to meet me here.”

Myros had been one of the most promising students of Archmaester Ebrose and it showed in how he manipulated the bodies to perform what he called an autopsy. He examined the corpses and explained the Lords how they died. Apparently, Ser Meryn had died in a brutal way, with the killer taking his time. Or her, Ned added in his mind. The murdered used a dagger to kill him slowly, probably with some poison. For Baelish, it had been a fast, surprise attack. His throat cut and he bled out in minutes. As the maester examined the bodies, he searched the injuries and soon extracted a coin with the poison still intact from Meryn´s side and another from Baelish´s throat. It confirmed that both were eliminated by a member of the Faceless Men.

“I don´t understand” Tywin said as they exited the maester´s autopsy room. “If it was only Baelish I could understand, but who would pay such an enormous amount of money to kill the Mountain´s scum or knights of the Kingsguard?”

“I don´t know… the Martells?”

“If it was me, the Mountain or Amory Lorch, I could understand. Not that scum” the Old Lion´s expression hardened. “There is something I´m not seeing.”

Ned could only think about everything Arya told him about what happened to her… it was the piece of the puzzle Tywin didn´t have. He sighed, then took off for the Tower of the Hand. Also cursed the maester for choosing such a place for his secret room… even if he knew it was a necessity. It was located close to the Black Cells, so it was kept a secret, so the Faith didn´t complain about desecration of bodies. Myros can be a great healer, but wasn´t discreet enough. And this was no small thing like his obsession with keeping that damn work of Grand Maester Malleon´s actualized. That the Faith could tolerate, the autopsies not. But that was not the current problem…

“Is she inside?” he asked Jory, who was in charge of keeping Arya in check. He had put Heward in charge of Sansa… just to be sure.

“Yes, my lord”

“Good” Ned opened the door and found Arya in her bed, playing with a dagger. “Have you killed someone lately that I should know?”

“Hello, Father, are you well?” she answered, rolling her eyes. “If I knew, you would too. Why don´t you ask Jaquen that same question?” the girl sat down. “Even if you knew, you wouldn´t be able to stop me.”

“Arya, it´s not the honorable…”

“I don´t care” she said, very clearly. “You can keep your honor, I will watch your back.” She crossed her arms stubbornly. “I will keep us all alive, even if that costs me dearly.”

“And who are you going to kill now? Joffrey Waters? Roose Bolton? The entire House Frey? You can´t kill all of our enemies, Arya.”

“Do you want to bet on that?”

No, Ned didn´t want to. Because he knew he would lose that bet. His daughter… both his daughters have become people he didn´t recognize anymore. One a schemer and another a killer… but what could he do apart from containing them. He wasn´t even sure he was able to do that.

-In High Hermitage-

“My lady, Ser is…”

“I know where to find him” Sarella marched through the keep like a soldier heading for war. She sometimes believed this marriage was a war of a kind… but she had already decided to go down that path again. And not only for the children. “You always said that this was your favorite view, that even Starfall doesn´t have a view as pretty as this.”

“I also sent you a letter telling you that you didn´t need to be with me again, that you can send whatever the Prince sent you…”

“I would want to deliver it myself, thank you very much. As a wife should her husband.”

“I´m no longer your husband, Sarella, and you didn´t need to…”

“Please, who else would I be?”

“You can… with anyone else” the Darkstar finally faced her. He looked exactly as before, even with a glass of lemon water in his hand. “You can find love, you deserve it after so many years of… everything…”

“Were you going to say me?”

“Well, that would be a truth” the glass was put on the table. “I´m a cruel, embittered, despicable man, someone willing and capable to cut a young girl only because he is feeling spiteful and who used to hate your family… why would you want to be with me when you can be with anyone else? Someone that you choose, you love? Someone better?”

“Love? Let me tell you something about love, dear” she approached. The Sand Snake looked so much like a viper hunting her prey that the knight shuddered. “Every maiden and foolish little girl dreams of that thing. A stupidity with hearts, a fantasy that never come true, of dashing knights that would sweep them off their feet. But true love? That´s a completely different thing. It´s trust, it´s the feeling of knowing that the other would watch your back no matter what, that will never let you down and in the end, you would die for each other as true companions. That´s love, my dear, work… and by the end of our turbulent marriage, that´s what we had. I would never ask for more.”

“Sometimes I wonder what I did to deserve you”

“Just be glad that there is someone willing to stand all your shit, Gerold Dayne” Sarella pushed him to a seat and then climbed on his lap. “You were truly blessed to have me.”

“I am” they kissed. Someone might say that Sarella wasn´t as beautiful as her cousin and Gerold´s former lover, Arianne Martell, but she was perfect for him. And they will have each other to the end. “Thank you”

“You should be” they kissed. And they would have continued, had Daemon not entered in that moment.

“If you have finished, we have work to do” the Bastard of Godsgrace said as his fellow bastard climbed down from her spouse´s lap. “You said you had something.”

“Of course”

Sarella opened the bag she had brought with herself, revealing two swords and a staff. The staff was modeled in the Valyrian way, but the Sand Snake believed she could do water magic with it. It had absorbed some of Garin´s power for centuries, after all. It was beautiful too, with a big peace of obsidian, rounded and polished like a jewel, in the base. Daemon grabbed the biggest sword, observing it almost as if it was an old friend he was reuniting after a long time. The Bloodstone on it´s handle shined almost in synchrony with Daemon´s eyes. Gerold stared at the last one, his hand closing around the handle just over the alexandrite in the handle. The Flames of Caraxes, Onixa and Morghul stared at each other.

“Let´s win this war this time.”

“Let´s”

Chapter Text

Eddard sighed in relief as he finished the paperwork for the night. After a few months, he had finally come to the conclusion that he had controlled his daughters. There had only been only four cases of poisoned coin murder since Lancel Lannister and they were shortly after the boy was found dead. Now, nearly a year later, Arya seemed to have finally understood that murder was not the way of managing their enemies. Of course, she had taken out nearly the entire Kingsguard in the process, even Mandon Moore and the new knights that entered after Jaime Lannister left… the Kettleback brothers… but the thing was that she finally stopped and that was enough for him. Sansa has also stopped trying to pit Cersei Lannister against him. He had done his very best to show the Queen that he didn´t have anything that could threaten her, even if he had, and that he was only aware that she had A secret. Not that Cersei believed it, but she at least relaxed a bit on her tries to face him herself… now she only spied on him. As for Sansa, having an escort that reported her movements every time she left the Tower seemed to have controlled her scheme… whatever she was trying to get.

Even so, that doesn´t mean that everything was fine. The incidents with the poisonous coins seemed to have inspired some street performers and mummer crews from Essos to create different plays. He had been told that one in particular was very popular both in King´s Landing and Braavos, being played even in front of the Sealord. “The Faceless Hour”, they called it… as if Arya was Cregan Stark reborn and made into a Faceless Man. Even so, they said that the play was actually quite nice, Jory said that a trader told him that there was a man named Izembaro in Essos who had made a great Robert Baratheon…

“Lord Stark, his Grace has summoned the Small Council to an emergency meeting” a servant informed him.

Ned sighed. What could it be this time? The Iron Bank? They had been causing great trouble lately, all thanks to Littlefinger. He had borrowed more than they could hope to pay in this life and started repaying in adulterated coin. Robert didn´t care and told the bankers to fuck off, but both Eddard and Tywin Lannister, the new master of Coin, shared a look of utter disbelieve and worry. Those bankers could not only ruin their reputation, but throw their vast resources behind the Targaryens for a restoration, especially now that her Kingdom stretched from Astapor to Meereen and she had the means to repay. That without seeing what they could do if the devaluation of their coin was made public… no one would want to trade or give them money if they do? Couldn´t Robert see that? The Iron Bank will always get it´s due. And that meant that the Baratheon reign was going to be short one if they didn´t find a way to pay. Cersei Lannister? Her husband´s spending and her own had been reduced drastically with Tywin there, but she still didn´t get it. Or blamed Ned for not being able to waste more dragons into luxuries, so she had been a pain lately. What else… the traders? The murders? Not being able to indulge in more whores?
No, the answer of the day belonged to the last Targaryen. Apparently, the girl had easily conquered Volantis with the help of the Red Temple. He knew the King and the Old Lion had sent catspaw to end the emerging Dragon Queen, but they all had failed. Also, Varys´ spy Ser Jorah had changed sides. Robert thought that the girl was probably fucking him to make him her man, but Ned didn´t believe she needed that. He had, after all, turned his cloak before without that. Returning to the Volantis issue, the Stag King was raving and ranting, saying that the Essosi couldn´t fight for shit, losing to a little girl and a bunch of eunuchs. The Quiet Wolf wondered if his friend even remembered that those eunuchs were deemed some of the most fierce and disciplined warriors in the world.

“The news are surely worrying” Ned approached Robert after the meeting was over. The others have agreed to send another assassin after the girl and, while he didn´t like it, he didn´t stop them either. Not after knowing what the girl had done in the future. “More now that I´m going to be absent from the capital” he stopped himself. “Maybe I should send the girls without me.”

“What are you saying, Ned? Your boy is getting married, you can´t miss that” the King patted him in the back. “Go, hopefully that problem with the Targaryen whore is going to be solved by the time you return. If not, then you are going to have the opportunity to offer your own idea.”

“I can return early”

“Nah, go to your goodbrother´s wedding too. If my own wife was as good as Cat, I would have gone to Casterly Rock for Lady Brienne´s wedding…” he rolled his eyes. Eddard could understand him, he clearly had bad luck to be saddled with Cersei Lannister. “Go home, Ned, and rest a bit. The other members of the Council could take care of everything while you are away.”

Lord Stark acquiesced and went away. He quickly finished everything for the trip and went to bed early. The next day, he and his daughters left the Red Keep and departed in a ship called the Wind Witch towards White Harbour. The trip was going to take three weeks, three blessed weeks in which he was not going to have to worry about one daughter scheming and the other murdering people. As he settled down on his cabin, he heard someone knocking on the door. He opened it, finding Arya on the other side. He allowed her in. She sat down on the bed, smiling at him with a smug expression.

“You know, when you told me you were going to take care of Sansa, I thought I could put my faith in you. But you have made a lousy work from what I could see” she lifted something in her hand. “You should have cut her right hand and kept the left watched long ago.”

“I would never do something like that!!”

“Not literally, stupid, only figuratively” she continued with that expression. “Do you really think people like Sansa and Cersei Lannister do things by themselves? Everything, even something that could be the least bit incriminatory, is handled by someone else. Someone that could take the blame for them… like the person who bought this.”

“I don´t understand the least of what you are talking about” he crossed his arms, angry. No one, especially his own daughter, called him stupid. “And what is that.”

“I´m not sure, my expertise doesn´t extend to all kinds of plants. My guess? Poison or tansy leaves that Sansa had Jeyne Poole buy. For Alys Karstark.”

“What?! But why…”

“Because she wants to become Queen in the North again, Father, wearing a crown is all that´s she is ever wanted” she smirked. “And Robb or a child of Robb would be the first thing in line to block her from achieving that. Poison that would turn her infertile or ever a bit of tansy tea could take care of that.”

“But why… it´s her brother…”

“Jon too and she betrayed him too”

“What did she do to Jon?”

“That´s… something that could be talked about later” Arya was uncomfortable now. “What I want to say is that you are going to have to be very careful from now on. Keep an eye, a true eye, on her from the moment we arrive in Winterfell and you will find out the truth.”

Arya left after saying that, leaving Eddard baffled. Had he truly been played by his daughter? And by right hand of Sansa, had she meant… Jeyne Poole? That was a loophole he hadn´t taken into account. He told Jory to watch his daughter carefully, but had never said anything about Jeyne Poole. Perhaps he should include her in his order to watch. As they approached White Harbor, he came to the conclusion that it was the right thing to do. Vayon´s daughter had worn amethyst earrings, ones he was sure had been gifts from the Crown Prince to Sansa. Had those been a payment for her service?

The Manderlys received them in the port and escorted the Starks to New Castle, where Lord Wyman feasted them. Ned politely ate something, wondering how someone could eat so many lampreys. He was partial to them, preferring venison to seafood. His daughters also seemed to be partial to the dishes. The Lord also assigned them nice and comfortable rooms in the guest wing and arranged for horses and a carriage for Lord Stark and his entourage, saying that the Manderly comities will join them for their ride to Winterfell. The departure the next morning was slow, but the ride was uneventful and they arrived to the ancient Stark Castle without inconveniences. Cat was there to receive them, a big smiled in her face. He answered it, agreeing with her. By this time in the old timeline, he was already dead and Robb facing a war in the Riverlands. Now, despite the looming danger of the Targaryen Queen in the East, there was peace and they were alive. They certainly were changing things for the good.
If only it was entire.

“My Lord, did you call me?” maester Luwin asked as he entered his solar, where Jory and a trembling kitchen girl were already.

“Yes, maester” Ned said, signaling a container that was in the desk. “Can you please tell us what kind of leaf is this tea made of?” the old man approached and opened the container, examining the crushed leaves. He even tasted them. “Well?”

“This is tansy, my lord” the erudite answered and the girl trembled even more. “What is happening here? Is this girl in the need of such a tea?”

“I found her mixing those leaves with the ones Lady Alys was going to consume after her wedding night.” Jory informed.

“Mercy!!” the woman pleaded. “I didn´t know what those leaves were!! I was only informed that they must be added to Lady Alys´ tea!! I thought… they were good for conceiving… or for her health… I don´t know, but I wasn´t aware they were tansy tea!! You have to believe me, milord!! I don´t lie!!”

“Who told you, girl?” Eddard asked in his lord voice.

“A… a girl who came to the kitchen. She didn´t look like a kitchen wench at all, her dress was too pretty for that. Not as pretty as Lady Sansa´s, but… definitely a lady from a minor house… she told me that Lady Stark wanted me to add those leaves to Lady Alys´ tea and to be alert, as some more were going to be delivered…”

“Lady Stark? Didn´t they say other name?”

“No, milord, only Lady Stark”

“And what else could you tell us about the girl?”

“On… only that she… she was wearing amethyst earrings, milord, only that. I noticed because she kept moving to show them off to everybody that crossed her path when she left.”

Amethyst earrings? Jeyne Poole delivered the tansy tea to the kitchen wench? Then Arya was right? Sansa had hatched this plan to make sure Alys could never give Robb an heir? But, even if that worked, there was still Bran and Rickon to… don´t tell she had planned to do away with them too!!

“Jory, bring your most trusted men to me immediately” he ordered. “I need to keep my daughter and her lady-in-waiting watched from now on.”

Sansa shoot both him and Arya glares full of hatred from then on, even when they were standing at night in the Godswood as Lord Rickard escorted his daughter to the Heart Tree. Eddard returned them with his anger. How dare she? Was a crown so important to her that she would kill her own brothers and goodsister over it? Arya smirked herself, pleased with something. Ned hoped that he wouldn´t return to King´s Landing to a murder. He returned to reality as Lady Alys finally arrived to where Robb was.

“Who comes before the Gods tonight?” he asked.

"Alys, of the House Karstark, comes here to be wed. A woman grown, trueborn and noble. She comes to beg the blessings of the Gods.” Her father answered, passing the hand of his daughter to her groom. “Who comes to claim her?"

"Robb of House Stark, trueborn son and heir of Eddard Stark. Who gives her?"

"Rickard, of House Karstark, her father." The Lord of the Karhold stated.

“You might cloak the bride and take her under your protection” the maiden cloak with the white sunburst was replaced with the grey one of House Stark. Eddard advanced and their hands were fastened together. “You take this man?”

“I take this man” the lady answered, the young couple kissed.

The Lords clapped, Catelyn let out a tear. Arya clapped and jumped, sending her seething sister a smug look. After the ceremony was over, the guests returned to the main hall, where a wedding banquet was already displayed. They ate and made merry. Considered how the last wedding Starks had attended had gone, he considered it a victory. He even got up from his seat and talked with the Lords. Lord Rickard was over the moon, his daughter would be Lady of Winterfell in the future and that alone was something to celebrate. Roose Bolton kept himself quiet, while his new wife tried to join a group of ladies that didn´t seemed to like the Frey Lady that much. The Maderlys were indulging themselves…

“Lord Stark”

“Ah, Lord Halys, welcome” Eddard smiled at the aged Lord Hornwood. Now that he remembered, there was something they both should discuss. He had promised a compensation for the Hornwoods because of the broken betrothal of Lady Alys and Daryn Hornwood, but he still didn´t know what to offer.

“It´s a nice wedding you have here. I wish I could offer one as grand as this for my own son when he marries.”

“And I hope I could attend to it” he answered. “I guess you have come to talk about the arrangement we had over the cancellation of your son´s betrothal to my now gooddaughter.”

“No, in fact, there is something else I wished to discuss with you” Halys seemed worried now. “It´s about my bastard son, Larence Snow. He… he went missing last year. He was being fostered in Deepwood Mote, but one day disappeared, almost at the same time as your own bastard” what? He never heard about that. “Some say that you planned your son´s escape from the Night´s Watch. Do you have some way to contact him or…”

“No, I didn´t arrange anything. Jon was sentenced to the Night´s Watch, so honor demanded that he joined. I wouldn´t do anything to help him escape that sentence” The Lord of Hornwood looked dejected. “But if you need help, I´m ready to offer you mine. I will talk to Lord Manderly to help you locate your son.”

“Thank you, my lord”

“My pleasure”

Now that Lord Halys mentioned, Lord Jeor Mormont and the Imp told him that Jon never arrived to the Wall. He had been helped by wildlings. After what he heard of his boy, he had guessed that Jon fled to the other side of the Wall with his wildling friends. While that posed it´s own share of problems, like the White Walkers, he felt relieved. Jon knew how to survive in there, he should resist until they could negotiate with Mance Rayder and cross the Wall back with them. Even so, he had asked Benjen to search for him and keep an ear for any history. The answer never came back, but his brother didn´t seem worried in the least. Does that mean Jon was fine? He didn´t have time to go to the Wall and back, so he could only trust… and feel worried.

“Where are you, Jon?” he asked to the wind, his eyes towards the North.

-In Volantis-

Daenerys opened her eyes, sleepy but sated from last night´s activities with her love. Jon had been pretty clear in that he wouldn´t fuck her until she was at least ten and five namedays old, but that doesn´t mean that they couldn´t… enjoy their bodies in a different way. And she had to say, her husband had a pretty skilled tongue. She had enjoyed it on her privates all the night before, a private celebration for the taking of Volantis. And she had used her own tongue to bring him to completion. She rolled in the bed, hoping to find him, but she only found the cooling space where he had slept that night. So he got up, letting the silk sheets felt from her breasts as she watched her nephew dress up in a robe.

“What are you doing?” she asked, curious. It was not the kind of dressing you would done to get out, so he was planning to stay in the palace they had taken as their residence… but why was he getting up so early in the morning? “Come back to bed.”

“I can´t, I plan to depart soon” he answered, sighing. “So a bath and then to dress for me.”

“Where are you going?”

“Westeros” her eyes sharpened when she heard him say that word. “It´s not what you are thinking, my dear wife, but… I heard that my cousin Robb has just gotten married and I have to deliver him our congratulation, no?” the tone he used flared the flame of vengeance on her chest. So that was the plan, eh? “If I leave now, I might catch Lord Stark and his entourage at Riverrun to offer both Robb and Edmure Tully our… congratulatory gifts.”

“That sounds great, should I join you?”

“I wish you could, but a Conqueror can´t leave her new land so soon, no? Besides, I would hate to put you in danger and Robert Baratheon can be there” she opened her mouth to mention that he would be in more danger, but then closed it. He had Morghul, who was fully grown and more, while Drogon was barely large enough to support Dany, not yet to take off with her. If only he were large enough… “Also, I´m only planning to give them a small scar. You know, to break their alliance apart.”

“What?”

“Just think about it. What kept the Alliance together? Trust they had built for years at the Vale, Robert Baratheon and Eddard Stark together at the Vale… even Lord Royce, who is Regent for Robert Arryn, remembers and trusts them because of those years of knowing them. That trust is the one keeping their Rebel Alliance together. One simple, but important lie uncovered and it all falls down like a house of cards. A truth… like me.”

“Why don´t end them quickly then?”

“Oh, it´s not ready for that yet. We are not strong enough to engage them yet. Even Aegon had three fully grown dragons before attempting to take the Seven Kingdoms” he smirked. “But we could make the preparations and let them destroy each other while our strength grows.”

“Humm, I like the devious mind you have developed, my husband.”

“The honorable idiot that kept getting betrayed is finally in the past, my wife” he sat down in the bed and they kissed, but Jon broke it before he could get tempted again. “I better get myself a bath and some clothes, I have a trip ahead of me.”

“You are not going in the clothes you have been wearing until now, no?” Daenerys suddenly said. Jon avoided her gaze. “One would have thought that you would have learned the importance of appearances by now.”

“I did!! It´s only that… I don´t have the time to prepare a set of clothing appropriate for…”

“Leave that to me then!! I will make sure you show up at Riverrun looking like the Targaryen Prince you truly are!!” she enthusiastically got out of bed. “Missandei and Helaena will help me in this endeavor…”

As Dany rambled, Jon shook his head. Yes, he had completely changed his way of dressing and hairdo when he became regent for their son, before finally understanding how strong a message those things sent. So he wasn´t completely against of that, he just dreaded what they could prepare in such a short time. He went to the bath chamber and soaked in the burning water. It was scorching, but the temperature hadn´t bothered him since he developed a bond with Morghul. Neither did the flames. He bathed in the perfumed waters, letting his hair and skin soak and cleaning himself thoughtfully. One of the servants brushed his hair until it was manageable and shaved the little hair that had grown on his face since the start of the campaign. He didn´t like to grow his beard anymore, it reminded him too much of the Starks and Jon Snow.

The Prince dressed in his robe again and left the bathing chamber, entering his room again. In the meantime, Daenerys and her ladies had somehow managed to get an acceptable attire together. It wasn´t as elaborate as some of the things he had seen the Triarch or nobles from Volantis wear, but it would allow him mobility for the long ride and was fancy enough for Westerosi court. It was also red and black, with dragon embroidery, which was a bonus. He donned them and allowed Missandei and Helaena to adjust them to his frame. After that, he allowed his wife to braid his hair into a Valyrian updo, with small chains of Valyrian steel that held an adornment of ruby over his front. She also added his favorite hairpins, with all and sharpened points of valyrian steel hidden in his hair.

“You will have to tell me the faces they put when they realized that it´s you who showed up on a dragon. Both of your uncle and your cousins.”

“My dear, I will make you a portrait of how that bitch Sansa looked when she realized that my bond with Morghul remains and his size” they kissed. “We will have so much fun roasting her when the time comes.”

“When the time comes…” there was a knock on their door then. Larence Saeragyon entered, wearing a polished palladin armor.

“My Prince, me, Ser Arthur and Armax Hoat are ready to escort you to the wedding.”

“I will accept Ser Arthur and Hoat, but you must remain with your wife and mine, my friend” he said, putting a hand over his shoulder. “It´s not that I don´t trust you, but someone needs to keep them safe while we travel.”

“Grey Worm is more than capable…”

“Grey Worm is going to be more than busy when the slave masters from Tyrosh, Lys and Myr stirred, not to talk about those in Qarth that already hate Daenerys and Helaena for their little show in the House of the Undying. And Varys is still lurking there, sending assassins their way… Larence, they need you more than I. Don´t let us become widowers again, without our children this time. I won´t be able to stand it.”

“Neither would I” the paladin nodded. “Alright, I will stay and make sure the Queen is safe. You can trust me, my Prince.”

“I know… and while you are at it, I need you to prepare something else…”

-In the Riverlands, days later-

Robb had never been happier to be in the Riverlands. Last time he had seen these lands, they had been aflame with war, plagued with Lannister men preying on it´s people. Now it was peaceful and prosperous, full of happiness at the heir´s marriage. It was contagious… happiness he meant… or perhaps it was because he was truly content with life now. No war, a beautiful wife, a loral squire and plenty to eat and drink. Not even the threat of the White Walkers and the frequent nightmares about a dead boy could ruin this time… or so he thought before he met the Blackfish, just arrived from the Vale. This one´s look hardened as he watched him with Sansa and told him they needed to talk.

“Whatever it is, it can wait until after the ceremony and banquet” he told to himself as he went to his room to meet Alys. She was so beautiful… not that he didn´t remember Jeyne, only that… he was trying to be faithful to his now wife. He wouldn´t commit the same mistake as his father or condemn a child to the life endured by his brother Jon only to sate his own needs. He would learn to love Alys… it was the best for everyone.

Robb broke his fast with the other men and was present when Edmure Tully received several gifts from his bannermen and other lords present. Then they all moved to the sept, where an aging septon guided the ceremony. Lady Roslin Frey was walked down the aisle by her brother Ser Perwyn. It was supposed to be her father, but the Late Lord Frey had suddenly died shortly after the Starks left the Twins. And not only him, but a lot of his descendants. Whalen, Petyr Pimple, Black Walder, Lame Lothar, Benfrey… apparently a strange plague had broken out in the Twins, a plague Lord Stevron Frey was endeavoring to suppress before it exterminated his family. When news had arrived, Lord Stark shot Arya an accusatory look, but the girl remained uninterested. The wedding wasn´t postponed because Perwyn Frey said it would be what Walder Frey would have wanted, but after the plague was over, the three siblings decided to make a trip together to present their respects to their deceased kin. Apart from that, everything seemed to be going well. Edmure took the maiden cloak from Roslin´s shoulder and passed it to Perwyn before cloaking her himself, they received the Seven Blessings and said Seven Vows.

"With this kiss I pledge my love" they both stated.

"… and take you for my lord and husband"

"…and take you for my lady and wife" they kissed.

“With this I declare Edmure of House Tully and Roslin of House Frey one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever” the septon declared. “Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

The claps were heard and people exited the sept, eager to congratulate the newlyweds on their marriage. It was then that Ravella Smallwood screamed, pointing at the sky. A huge shadow then appeared over all of them as a great creature approached earth to land. Robb´s mouth felt open, there, in front of him, was a dragon. The great beast was easily as large as they said Balerion was by the moment of his dead, black as coil and with eyes the color of wildfire. Many around him took the hands to the swords, but what could they do with metal stick against a dragon? Many a lady and even some lords got to their knees to pray for the gods to have mercy on them, because they didn´t think the beast would.

“Don´t worry, my lords and ladies, he doesn´t attack unless I order him” a known voice sounded around. Robb couldn´t believe it. There, in the back of the dragon, was his brother Jon.

“Jon?” he asked in disbelieve. This one didn´t seem to have heard him or recognize his words, because he and his companions only went down from the dragon.

“I heard that my dear cousin had gotten married and wanted to offer my congratulations in person. After all, we were raised as brothers” cousin? What… but of course. Jon had Targaryen blood, enough to ride a dragon. He wouldn´t have been able unless he was not his brother in blood, but his cousin. A son sired by Rhaegar Targaryen on Lyanna Stark. A son his father had claimed as his own to save him. “Robb!! Look at us, how far we have gone. I left Winterfell a child and a child were you too then… now we are both married men with beautiful wives and experience in battle. It turns out you were right, cousin” the Prince´s eyes held a strange smugness. “Black was ever my color, especially when combined with red.”

“Why have you come here, Jon?”

“I bear gifts of congratulations for you and the new Lady Stark from House Targaryen and me in particular, as close kin” he continued. In that moment, Marq Piper moved to try his luck and land a blow on the Targaryen, but was quickly stopped and sent to the floor by a white cloaked figure on the back. Others tried, but met a similar fate. Whispers started to flow around… was that truly Arthur Dayne? “Armax, if you mind?”

“Sure” the other travelling companion extended one of the packages he was carrying to him, which his brother, now revealed cousin, then gave Robb.

“This is one of Armax´s best works, I hope you like it” he unwrapped it before the object completely changed hands. It was a dagger… a Valyrian steel dagger which was too familiar to him. “It will never lose it´s edge, so you may use it any time you want.”

To slit your own throat before I come for you, Jon seemed to be saying, for you and everyone in your wretched family.

“Of course, I haven´t forgotten the hosts of this wedding. My apologies, Lord Tully, Lady Tully, for not offering my congratulations earlier” traitors, his eyes seemed to say. “Please, allow me to give you this small gift along with my congratulations to such loyal people, someone who never forget who raised them to be what they are…”

Lord Edmure´s face went red and Lady Catelyn blanched even more. Just… what was happening here… Robb immediately held his mother´s hands as a silver necklace with amethysts was unveiled and put into Roslin Tully´s hands. Both Sansa and Arya tensed when they saw the stones. Why? He didn´t have time to ask, because his father finally recovered from the impression and approached to face the one who in other times was his son, his only nephew.

“Jon, what do you think you are doing?! Stop this nonsense!!”

“Do you see a Jon here, Ser Arthur?” he mockingly asked his Kingsguard. “I see many… is my uncle referring to one of you, my lords?”

Say my name… Robb heard in his head, even if no one had talked.

“Jon, stop it this instant…”

“Which one of you is, my lords, that has made my uncle so angry?”

Say my name, you coward, say the name she gave me with her last breaths of life

“JON!!”

“That again… Armax, which one do you think he is referring to?”

RETURN ME MY NAME!!!!

Chapter Text

“Jon… Luke” his nephew kept waiting. “Lucerys…”

“Ah, you were talking to me, dear uncle. You should have spoken my name from the beginning if you were addressing me, it would have saved us time” Lucerys Targaryen stared at him with those deep purple eyes full of smugness. They may have been inherited from Rhaegar, but for some reason they always reminded him of Lyanna when she won against him in a race. “Too bad I´m in kind of a rush, so I´m only passing by.”

“Lucerys, wait…”

“Uncle, dear aunt, cousins… it´s been a pleasure to see you again. Hope we can see each other again in the close future” the words were courteous, but they sounded too much like a threat for Ned. It was as if they were warning them about the next time they saw each other. “Let´s go, Ser Arthur, Armax. We have other places to be.”

“Lucerys… Lucerys, wait!! Don´t get into that dragon… Lucerys, come back here!!” his orders didn´t seem to make much of an effect on the boy he had raised as his son anymore. In fact, they only amused him even more as he got into his monstrous dragon with his companions. “Come back here!!”

“Make me!!” was his only answer, dropping any courtesy as he accommodated himself in the seat between the dragon´s shoulders. “Morghul, soves!!”

The theory about dragons sharing a deep bond with their riders must be true, because the animal seemed to laugh before he spread his wings and took off into the sky. As the dragon… Morghul… disappeared from view, he was suddenly aware of the looks he was getting from everyone around, from his own wife to the Vale and River Lords that attended the event. It went from astonished to downright angered. The news that Eddard Stark had hidden the last son of Rhaegar Targaryen was sure to spread like wildfire once they had recovered enough and one or more of those ravens would eventually reach Robert. And when that happened…

“You can´t be here, come” Ser Brynden was the first to act, shielding him and his niece from the crowd and helping them and Robb escape into Riverrun. Arya and Sansa were nowhere to be seen, perhaps they had run away in the commotion?

As the time progressed, Ned could only think of the worse. He was isolated in a room in Riverrun, surrounded by several people who were or against the Targaryens or Targaryen loyalists. At least, he knew that the Darrys and the Blackwoods were. One was loyal to the former royal house to the point of fanatism and the other shared ties of blood with that same family, so he couldn´t be sure if they would side with them or not, specially if they had dragons once more. In fact, he can´t be sure of any other noble family. With dragons, everything changed. The Targaryens, his nephew in particular, had the board in their hands with that one weapon. It was only a measure of time to know…

“So… Lucerys, am I right?” Catelyn´s voice made him come down from his mental ramble. He stared at her as if she was crazy. Was this really the moment to be asking this? “Lucerys… the son of your sister Lyanna?”

“Yes… Lucerys” he answered, not knowing what else to say. “My nephew”

“Right” Cat´s face was right thunderous in that moment. “And… what exactly were you expecting of me?”

“What?”

“When I found out. What exactly did you think I would do when I found out?” she continued, anger coming out of her mouth with every word. “Did you perhaps thought that I would scream it from the battlements of Winterfell? Because I could from the ones of Riverrun if you want, good that would make us now” his redheaded wife advanced on him. “Give him up to Tywin Lannister? Send a raven to Robert Baratheon? I can do either of them too.”

“What are you talking about?” he asked, confused and afraid.

“I´m talking about your motives to hide such a monumental truth from me, Eddard Stark” she continued, sending shivers of fear down his back. Eddard Stark… how long had it been since his wife addressed him with any other name than Ned? “Because you certainly expected me to do something horrible to your nephew to hide such a big secret from me instead of telling me the truth.”

“I… I thought it was for the best”

“The best” Catelyn continued, her angered expression remaining no matter what. “Hiding your nephew as your bastard I can understand, but not telling ME, YOUR WIFE… what possessed you to do something like that?!”

“Cat…”

“I would have understood it, you know. If Edmure or Lysa had been in a similar position, I would have done the same as you, ignoring what the people from Westeros would have said about me… but I would have tell you. Once I had known it was safe, I would have told you. Not allowed you to be a damn bitch to my nephew for something he couldn´t control and that he was not at fault for in the first place!!”

“Cat…”

“Don’t you dare to CAT me, Eddard Stark. What you did was a monstrosity!! And you not only because you hid the truth from me, allowing me to hate that boy, but because you hid the truth from that boy!!” Lady Stark yelled at him. “Lyanna was dead and gone!! Not only that, she was your sister, not your lover!! I had nothing to be afraid of or jealous of!! I should have been a mother to him!!”

“I… I thought that it was the best… if no one… no one knew” Ned tried to explain himself. “In case anyone learned about this, the blame would fall solely on me, not…”

“Well, someone had learned of it now, hadn´t them? Every Lord from the Vale to the Crownlands now know exactly how much of a liar you are” she crossed her arms. “Well, what had you planned now? You seem to have everything coldly calculated.”

“I… I was simply hoping that no one knew the truth… and if someone did, that Jon… Lucerys, Lucerys!! Being in the watch would solve it all.”

“A bad plan, if you ask me” Brynden Tully said, entering the room alongside Robb. “I think it´s the moment we all talk, like the family we are supposed to be. Isn´t that right, dear niece?”

“Thank you, un…”

“I wasn´t talking to you, little Cat”

“Yes” Arya said, getting out of the darkness as if she had been materialized out of it. She also had a dagger in her hands, proper for the assassin she was. “We should. Especially now that Lucerys Sweetsong has shown himself as he truly was.”

“Sweetsong” Ned repeated.

“It´s because of a mania he had… back when he was older” his daughter informed, frowning. “He always song some obnoxious song about a dragon when he was over that monster he now rides… as if serenading his future victims would make a difference or earn their forgiveness after he burnt them to death” she clicked her tongue in distaste. “Rhaegar didn´t found it funny, but Daenys thought it was great.”

“Rhaegar… and Daenys?” Robb asked. “As in our nephew and niece?”

“Oh, so you know about them?”

“You had a nephew and niece?” Ned asked in confusion.

“We had… or we will, depending on how you see it now” Arya turned towards Brynden. “Granduncle, I´m glad to see you alive. Last thing I knew, you have gotten missing after an incursion beyond the Wall.”

“What were you doing beyond the Wall?” Catelyn asked.

“I joined the Night´s Watch searching for whatever honor I had left after our family lost all of theirs” the Blackfish said. “Edmure was trying to crown himself King despite his familial tries with Bran, Sansa was letting the North starve for her pride and Bran… well, I have my doubt if that thing is actually Brandon, but that´s me.”

“For the Seven, what happened when I was dead?!!”

“Jon had children, none of your children did… which kind of would have landed Winterfell in their hands anyway, but Sansa refused to acknowledge any of his children as possible heirs despite not being anyone else… then they started to burn down the North and several of the Seven Kingdoms after Sansa and Bran”

“Perhaps” Robb said, equally as baffled as his parents. “We should start with a complete genealogy. After all, some of us didn´t live to see Jon´s children.”

“Yes” Brynden crossed his arms. “Last I heard, he only had two sons.”

“Alright”

Arya asked for a quill, ink and some parchment. After she got them from her granduncle, she started to get to work. First, she doubted. Should she make it an intricate work or should she keep it simple? Deciding that perhaps keeping it easy to understand was the right thing to do, she started to place names in the family tree.

Lucerys Targaryen – Daenerys Targaryen:
Rhaegar Targaryen Daemon Targaryen Daenys Targaryen Rhaella Targaryen

She added the dates of birth and the death dates she knew to the names she wrote. Her heart twisted with guilt when she wrote the name of the baby girl she had killed herself, whose blood stained her hand and branded her a kinslayer. She remembered the relief that actually coursed through her when Dreamfyre, the purple dragon that hatched for her niece when she was still in the crib. burned her to a crisp and Daenys avenged her sister… it was sweeter than the certainty that she or her brothers or their descendants would avenge her grandnephew soon. But it was not time to stop herself, she needed to keep writing the future.

Monterys Velaryon - Gaelys Celtigar
Daenaera Velaryon - Rhaegar Targaryen
Rhaenyra Targaryen Daella Targaryen Matarys Targaryen Alyssa Targaryen Aenys Targaryen Vhaegon Targaryen

She frowned once when she felt she wasn´t as accurate as she could be…

Rhaenyra Targaryen - Maegor Saeragyon

Much better. She continued with the next parchment…

Sarella San… Nymeros Martel - Gerold Dayne
Arianne Nymeros Martell Oberyn Nymeros Martel Arthur Nymeros Martel Ellaria Nymeros Martel
Arianne Nymeros Martell – Daemon Targaryen
Aelora Targaryen Aelinor Targaryen Dyanna Targaryen Lyanna Targaryen Aurion Targaryen

Arya passed the paper and continued…

Larence Snow – Helaena Saeragyon
Jacaerys Saeragyon Tahaegor Saeragyon Vhaella Saeragyon
Jacaerys Saeragyon – Daenys Targaryen
Daena Saeragyon Gael Saeragyon Alysanne Saeragyon Aenar Saeragyon Aemon Saeragyon Viserys Saeragyon Visenya Saeragyon Maegor Saeragyon Aerys Saeragyon
Tahaegor Saeragyon – Dalla Maegyr
Saera Saeragyon Aemma Saeragyon

She smiled and passed the parchment, now the closest of their advisors… at least those that she knew of that weren´t related to the Targaryens.

Aurane Velaryon – Lysandra Rogare
Laena Velaryon Addam Velaryon Alyn Velaryon
Monterys Velaryon (once widowed) – Laena Velaryon
Corlys Velaryon Laenor Velaryon Rhaenys Velaryon

“I see” Ned could barely believe it. “and… none of you could give me even one grandson?”

“Robb tried, but we all know how that ended up” Arya shrugged her shoulders. “Also, you should be grateful that Jon remained reticent to marrying brother to sister, because Daenys was more than willing to marry her children to one another… even if she herself had a lover match.”

“Yes, Daenys…”

“Daenys the Nightmare Targaryen” Arya clarified. “She was already a nightmare to deal with before Sansa, Tyrion and Bran decided to kill her youngest…”

“What?!” Catelyn asked. And it was just… she did not want to believe that. That her children would or were even capable of becoming kinslayers.

“Please, mother, do you really believe that the Targaryens and their forces attacked just because they wanted to?” she didn´t want to believe anything else. “But I guess it´s not all their fault. They had plenty of reasons to despise the Starks by then, mainly because I was the one that killed Daenerys and Rhaella” her mother looked at her in disbelief and horror. “Yes, mother, I became a kinslayer. And it was all because your darling Sansa asked me to.”

“I… I…”

“I knew that” Brynden intervened. “But why did they truly attack? If they wanted to avenge Daenerys or Rhaella…”

“Oh, Jon wanted to, but he needed to consolidate the power of the Targaryen Dynasty in Essos before he could come for us. His first priority were his children, not pursuing me yelling for revenge. And not even killing me would bring his wife and daughter back” Arya lowered her head. “Do you want to know what made them attack? Two things” she raised two fingers. “Two murders… or one murder and one suicide, if you were asking Tyrion Lannister.”

Now she had the attention of the public focused on her. What she wanted, because she wanted them to pay attention. It made her smile, thinking that she was about to air all of Sansa´s and Bran´s sins regarding his big brother, destroying the trust of their family towards them. She shivered when she imagined what her father was going to do to Sansa once he found out… would he truly punish her. Arya certainly hoped so, her bratty sister certainly deserved it. And the thing that had taken her brother´s body…

“First, the murder of Aerys Saeragyon…”

“I thought he commited suicide”

“Don´t interrupt me” the girl instructed. “Like I was saying the murder of Aerys Saeragyon, youngest, four and ten namedays old son of Princess Daenys and her husband… and yes, he cut his own wrists, but that only happened after he was tortured by our brother Bran at Storm´s End, where he was hold captive for an entire year before being rescued by his uncle Tahaegor…”

“LIE!!” Catelyn apparently had recovered enough to defend her darling.

“Are you sure? Because from what I saw, Aerys could have been the one that slit his own wrists but it was Bran who brought him over the edge in his search for a slave dragonlord to bleed” she smirked. “He killed our grandnephew for a few pieces of steel. Valyrian steel but I don´t think they valued as much as a live” she crossed her arms. “And Jon also didn´t, because after he finished mourning, he declared war on the Six Kingdoms and the North.”

“Why to make war on the North too?”

“Because Sansa, in all her wisdom, decided to toast to the death of Aerys. It was the last strand for many of our lord and several more were already talking treason by then.”

“I can´t believe…”

“Well, believe it” Arya put her hands on her hips. “From what I know, which is not much, the Mormonts, the Manderlys and the Glovers were already plotting treason and that was from my limited knowledge. In fact, I´m sure that the only ones that remained loyal to Sansa were the Tallharts and just because they were afraid Jacarys Saeragyon would burn them into a crisp with his dragon after they killed his mother and tried to kill him and his family.”

“Jacaerys Saeragyon… had a dragon”

“Yes, the only one of the Saeragyon siblings to have one, Meleys. Big, red… gentle tempered compared to Dreamfyre, but would still kill you with her fire if her rider was pissed… just like the Tallharts realized after Jacaerys and her came north.” Arya smiled. “the charred remains of the Hornwood is certainly something they won´t forget… or how they reenacted the legend of Harren the Black.”

“Ri… right” Robb didn´t understand, but he didn´t feel right knowing that his sister had let a northern house and who knows how much of the North burn. “And the second?”

“What?”

“You said that there were two murders who catapulted us into war, which one was the second?”

“Ah, that… Lady Laena Velaryon was poisoned by a member of Bran´s small council” the girl mentioned, trying to remember. She hadn´t paid as much attention to that as to the murders in the family… a great mistake. “Her eldest son, Ser Corlys Velaryon, then claimed his mother´s dragon, Seasmoke, and went onto burning half of Cape Wrath in retaliation… that before Daenys herself burned the other half of the Stormlands herself.”

“Our niece… certainly had a temper”

“There is no pain like that of a mother who has lost a son” the assassin said. “Nor fury. Which is what Bran´s advisors should have thought of before they gave her an excuse to wage war against us by murdering Laena… or Aerys.”

“Aerys… and Maegor, no?” Ned asked, picking up the paper his daughter had written in. Those two, they were born in the same date, so they must be twins. And young when they died or married respectively. His granddaughter… grandniece certainly had a weird taste in names. “They are polemic names.”

“Daenys had a polemic sense of humor and her husband only humored her” she shrugged. “Despite the names or the dragons they rode, those twins were the nicest people you might encounter. So much that Aerys was considered the Essosi version of Alysane… which was the reason he was betrothed to Rhaenyra despite the age gap. Or why Essos was in an uproar after he died.”

“Perhaps we should…”

“Before trying to fix the future, you should decide what to do now” Brynden signaling, getting the attention of everyone in the room. “I´m sorry to put it bluntly, Ned, but with Lucerys telling the Seven Kingdoms what you have done, there is a big possibility that you might be condemned for treason and House Stark with you.”

“Cat and the children didn´t know…”

“Robert Baratheon is not known for his mercy”

“He is my friend”

“And he laughed over the corpses of dead children, what makes you think that he is not going to do so again?” the Blackfish turned to his niece. “I´m sorry, Cat, but the best for everyone right now is you leaving for Winterfell with the children and Alys in the morning. Take the fastest horses and don´t stop until you have reached the other side of Moat Cailin.”

“Uncle…”

“House Tully will be fine, don´t worry” he turned again for Lord Stark. “Ned…”

“I will not run, I will face Robert here” he faced his wife. “But you and the children need to leave as soon as the sun rises, Cat. I won´t risk you.”

Ned looked at his family as if he was seeing them for the last time before facing the papers Arya had written once more. The grandsons he failed, the granddaughter who lost a child to his own children, the great grandson who was tortured into insanity by his son… and the many histories of his son and daughter´s evil that he hasn´t been told. He couldn´t allow this… and he won´t allow this. With a new resolve in his mind, he sat down on the desk to write some letters before it was too late. It´s time to put a stop to Brandon and Sansa before they could do more damage to this family.

-In King´s Landing, a few days later-

Tywin Lannister could barely believe it when he read it, but when ravens started to swarm them with the same news, confirmation of what had happened at Riverrun. Just when everything was going so well… recently, he had been in Casterly Rock to celebrate the birth of Jaime´s first daughter, Jocelyn Lannister. The Targaryens had been a long lost memory, only a little girl in Essos that he could kill if he so wanted… but now Aerys had a fully grown grandson too and Daenerys a nephew-husband, with a grown dragon of his own that could rival Balerion the Black Dread. How long until that girl birthed more dragons? Or for Lucerys and his aunt-wife to turn towards Westeros? He won´t let two pathetic orphans to ruin everything he had built.

“There you are, Lord Tywin” Renly Baratheon approached him. “I guess you are preparing for your appointment as Hand of the King.”

The Old Lion haven´t thought about that, but with Ned Stark having dug his own grave by sheltering a son of Rhaegar in his home for more than ten years, it was obvious that he was going to get dismissed soon. And who else but Lord Tywin could replace him? When Robert finished throwing a tantrum, because that was what the King was doing right now besides destroying the furniture and yelling about treason, the Lannister Lord should ask about the office… after he had made up a plan to kill Lucerys and Daenerys Targaryen, that´s it.

“Nothing has been told yet”

“But we all know who Robert is going to appoint now that his dearest friend has betrayed him. As he doesn´t like Stannis nor I, he is surely going to appoint you, and I would want…”

“We will see”

Or at least he will make sure of that. Anyway, at least in something Renly was right and that was the Eddard Stark´s days in King´s Landing were numbered, and while he didn´t have a good opinion of the wolf Lord as a player of the game of thrones or a politician, he had been an ally in Tywin´s efforts to curve Robert and Cersei´s spending ways. He needed to replace him if he was going to be able to save the Seven Kingdoms from bankruptcy. As he was thinking on that, he passed the library, where the Grand maester was working on a book. Grand Maester Malleon´s masterpiece which Myros was so obsessed with. The schoolar was updating the page regarding the Targaryen family, adding Lyanna Stark and her son. He could practically see their entrance, specially Lucerys… dark of hair, purple of eyes…

“Your grandson is not going to last for long, Aerys” he promised to his old friend and enemy, the Mad King. “I´m going to send both him and your daughter back to him soon.”

He left. There were some letters he needed to write.

-In the North-

Roose Bolton was staring at the letter that had just arrived for him from King´s Landing. So, Tywin Lannister was offering him wardship of the North if he took care of the Starks for him, eh? The Old Lion certainly didn´t want the dragons to have allies which could give them a safe, well defended port from which they could start their invasion. Anyway, Roose wasn´t eager to help the Golden Lord. First, because, even if he was pissed at his old friend, the Bolton Lord couldn´t see Robert Baratheon killing his dearest friend Eddard Stark or erasing his House. The Stormking might have a temper, but he would never kill them all. And second, even if he managed to kill all the Starks and not gain the fury of the North in the process, ending up dead as a result, he would only be handing Winterfell to Lucerys Targaryen. As the son of Lyanna Stark, he was the closest relation of House Stark and their heir in case the worst happened. The North certainly would prefer him to a Bolton… at least as a last resort. Roose was also sure that the boy would fight for his inheritance and he didn´t feel like ending up as Harren the Black. They say that dragonfire was a very horrible way to die, he didn´t have the least wish to find out.

“My Lord?” maester Wolkan entered the room. “Great news, Lady Walda is pregnant…”

“Tell me if she manages to give birth to a son successfully” Roose answered. “Or do I need to remind you that you have announced this at least twice before only for her to miscarry not only a week later?”

“Ye… yes, my Lord” the schoolar trembled. “I will retire now”

Roose stared at the letter again. Maybe it was a bad idea to accept the offer made by the Old Lion, but it wouldn’t do any harm to keep the contact, just in case something happened in the North or Essos that could give him the upper hand. After all, the game could change in a single moment. That´s why you have to keep your eyes open.

Chapter Text

Eddard was watching the sky from the window of his room, unable to sleep. He couldn´t help but wonder if this was the last time he would see his family or even the sky over his head. Robert… the King would have his head, he was sure of that. And even if he didn´t, he surely would throw the Lord of the Winterfell into the Black Cells in his rage. Having already been there in his last life, retuning to them was the last thing he wanted. And talking about that, he also didn´t want to depart with his wife in those terms. The truth about Lucerys hit Catelyn the hardest. It made her thought that him keeping the secret meant that he didn´t trust her, so she had been spurning his company since the small chat they had about his nephew and the family he used to have. It was weird… thinking that the only one who had continued the Stark line was the nephew whose line was supposed to disappear. How the wheels of destiny really turned…

“I thought I would find you here” Arya said, practically appearing from the darkness. Something that she seemed to be fond of. “You can still come with us, you know.”

“I refuse to run from the consequences of my actions” the Lord of Winterfell answered. “It could bring the wrath of the King onto all of House Stark and the North, something I can´t allow.”

“The North has withstand all the Andal Invasions, it would withstand this one.”

“And it wouldn´t be the honorable thing to…”

“See? That” she pointed at him with a vicious smile. “is the kind of thing that would get you killed. That got you killed the last time. But you refuse to learn, no? Refuse to learn that not everyone else conducts themselves with so much honor, that they are backstabbing shit that would sooner plunge a knife in your back…”

“It know that not everyone is an honorable as me!! I only…”

“Yes, Jon Snow also believed in honor. He idolized you and tried to conduct himself with as much honor as the beloved father that raised him did. And you know what happened to him?” the assassin pointed at him with a dagger this time. “He got betrayed, again and again, over and over until he lost too much. And where is Jon Snow now? He is dead. Dead and buried for a long time.”

“Jon is not…”

“Lucerys survived and got to the place he is now killing the child known as Jon Snow and burying him to become the man he is now” Arya continued. “It´s what every wise person has done to survive in this damn world, even me… but you never will, no?”

“Arya…”

“Don´t feel bad for me” she said, frowning. “I did what I had to do to survive. As you should have done long ago if you wanted to survive in the middle of the Game.”

“I was going to say, what do you think I have to do.”

“Hummm, that´s a nice question. Also one that has a lot of answers” the girl sighed. “For once, stop believing that Robert Baratheon is your friend. You have been apart for too long, you don´t know each other anymore. Besides, you have betrayed him. You aren´t friends anymore and will never be again.”

“Giving Robert a crown was a mistake, I will give you that…”

“It was not the only mistake, but I guess you can´t see all the others” she continued. “Next, stop believing that you can threat us all as before. We might look like children, but we aren´t those innocent wide eyed kids you left behind. We grew up in the middle of war and blood, in a place where we had to fight in different ways to survive…”

“And how are you, Arya? Your brothers? Your sister?”

“I´m a remorseless killer, a blade pointed at the enemies of those I love” she raised a finger. “Sansa is a little brat that things she deserves everything she wants and would stop at nothing to achieve it. Bran… he is not even Bran to begin with, but he is a cold thing you don´t want to have near us or anyone ever again. The amount of people he killed as King, simply because they didn´t want more weirwoods south of the neck. Jon… Jon had been so badly damaged by us that he has become a survivor. He rose from his own ashes into something I couldn´t recognize. But as much as he wants to survive, he also wants revenge. Fire and Blood… it´s in him too.”

“Arya…”

“You have to stop threating him like a child, all of us but Robb and Rickon. We were all old men and women when we died” she smirked. “We survived and turned into something else as we struggled to do so. Jon even had grandchildren… he is older than you now!!”

“It´s difficult to do, to me, you will always be those babies that I once held in my arms, fresh out of the womb or barely old enough to babble.”

“But you have to, or you won´t survive long against the people those squirming babies grew up to be. Even so, I guess it´s up to you” she shrugged. “Good bye, father. I pray we see each other again.”

“Good night, Arya.”

He watched his daughter leave, wondering how much he had failed for his children to become the kind of persons the girl was talking about. The Lord of Winterfell went to sleep as he asked himself what was to come in the future. Robert surely be there in a few days, with a whole army of Crownlands´ knights behind him. Would he be made a prisoner of the Crown? Beheaded like before? Was this the last time he saw his family? He certainly hoped no. Also hoped that the instructions he has given Robb were enough to keep Sansa under control. They certainly seemed to be enough for Cassandra Baratheon. In the end, he fell into a restless sleep, his mind trying to divert to many options for the future. In the middle of that, he landed in what seemed like the Godswood of Winterfell. Robb was there too, looking at the Heart Tree with a strange expression.

“Robb!!” he yelled, trying to get his son´s attention. He suddenly banished, leaving nothing but air in his wake. But Ned wasn´t alone. No, they hadn´t been alone all the time. There, standing in the snow, was a young boy with his wrists split open. The silver hair was a major clue about his identity. “Are you… Aerys?”

The boy tried to answer, but instead the floor under Ned gave up. He was thrown into what seemed like the North, the Hornwood if he wanted to be specific. There, a man approximately his age was standing. He had the beauty of the Valyrians, but his dark hair and eyes were signals of First Men´s inheritance. The man was looking at the burned remains of Lord Halys´ Halls as a red dragon feasted upon cows behind him. Why was a dragonrider in the middle of the North? The only ones that visited it when the dragons were still alive were his own nephew, Queen Alysanne, Prince…

“JACE!!” Prince Jacaerys Velaryon? But his dragon, Vermax was said to have been green, not red. He suddenly saw someone approaching him, someone that resembled Lord Halys. “You shouldn´t have left us behind. What is there were scorpions or…”

“I already know how to deal with scorpions… and I wanted to give our cousins a show of my appreciation, father” ah, Ned understood, so this wasn´t Jacaerys Velaryon, but Jacaerys Saeragyon, grandson of Lord Halys Hornwood. But why would Jacaerys burn his father´s ancestral home? “Do you think mother is smiling over me now? Does this makes her proud? I avenged her, I killed her killers…”

“Jace…”

“It should mute the pain, no?! Of course, the Starks aren´t dead yet, so it can´t be complete, but I… this should mute the pain for mother´s death or even from Aerys…”

“Jace…”

“Don´t tell me what I should do, father, I´m not a child any longer!!” he started screaming, kicking the snow around him. “I will do whatever I want!! Whatever it´s needed!! I won´t stop burning under that bitch, the raven and their demon monkey are dead!! Thanks to them I have this knife on my entrails, twisting all day, every day, since the death of my son!! I won´t stop until they are all dead!!”

“I miss him too” Larence said, approaching his son as if there wasn´t a dragon bonded to him so close, a dragon that could have easily ended his life. “I want to avenge him too… and vengeance will be ours in the end.”

“My poor boy… my poor, sweet child… they returned him broken and full of madness… that Stark bitch toasted to his death… and they answered.”

“Let them burn and continue burning in the Seven Hells, my son” the knight continued. “The Tallharts are gone and soon the Starks will be. This is our vengeance.”

Blackness overcame the world. Awoken now, Ned despaired for the future, for his children and the damage they could bring to others, but why were the Gods showing him this? Why was Aerys showing him this? He couldn´t tell. The Lord of Winterfell wished to discuss this with anyone, but he didn´t think that someone but his family would believe him. Cat and the children were about to leave… and Ser Brynden was also busy doing damage control… so perhaps he should keep his visions to himself.

The next morning he said goodbye to his family at the doors of Riverrun. Ser Rodrik promised him to escort his family to the safety of Winterfell unharmed. The aged knight also wished his Lord good luck and told him he couldn´t have asked for a more honorable leader… that was probably the only good compliment he would get in his life, that he was honorable. He also wished Robb luck in handling everything that needed to be done to secure their survival. He knew his son could do it, he was better than him at tactics, even if he was as honorable as him. Or perhaps betrayal had cured him of that. As his family disappeared from sight and he returned to the castle. The Lord of Winterfell then noticed how many of the lords attending the festivities have left in the middle of the night. Only a few bannermen of House Tully remained, probably with the intention of watching the show when the King arrived, and a few Crownlands houses. Also…

“Lord Stark, a pleasure to see you. Thought I might have lost my chance to speak with you after all the… commotion”

“Lord Celtigar” Eddard answered, not having time for small talk. Much less with a Lord of a House that was fanatically loyal to the Targaryens and was probably plotting how to put Lucerys and Daenerys in that bloody chair of the Conqueror already. “If you excuse me, I have to…”

“Won´t take much time” Lord Ardrian said, grabbing him by the arm. “Tell me, the young prince, your nephew… his name is truly Lucerys?”

“Yes” Ned asked, suddenly intrigued. This seemed to be important for the Valyrian blooded lord for some reason he couldn´t tell. Perhaps it had to do with the Velaryons? Lucerys was a Velaryon name after all, the only other Targaryen to have that name was the son of Rhaenyra. “Why do you ask?”

“It´s not a good name for a dragonrider. A seafarer, perhaps, but…”

“Are you saying that my nephew has… an ill fate name?”

“Not exactly” the other Lord looked straight at him, his eyes serious and without any sign of being deceitful or having other designs. He was being open… something strange for someone used to the court. “According to the few ancient tales of Valyrian mythology that survived until today, Lucerys is the name of the ship of the Goddess Shrykos, Goddess of the Seas and patron of seafarers. According to tale, her ship drags the sun over the sea, bringing a new day. It´s name meant: He who brings the dawn.”

“He who… brings the dawn?” Ned´s blood suddenly froze in his veins. Could it be a referral to Jon and his role in the Long Night?

“In Valyria, it was a common name between noble seafaring Houses, as they thought naming their children for her Blessed Ship meant they would always reach safe port in their travels, but dragonlord… the few times that a Dragonlord was named Lucerys, they heralded great changes in the world. In fact, the Dragonlord Emperor that reigned at the time of the Doom, according to tales, was named Lucerys too.”

“Then they heralded great catastrophes?”

“Great changes, Lord Stark, great changes. When Emperor Lucerys reached the Dragon Throne, Valyria held it´s breath and the Doom came soon after; when Arrax hatched for Prince Lucerys Velaryon, we Valyrian Houses held our breaths… then the dance came and with it the decline of the dragons and the beginning of the End of House Targaryen… now we have a Prince Lucerys Targaryen, who heralds another grand change… I wonder what I´m going to see in the next few years…”

Ned gritted his teeth, wondering if his sister had known about the name and his hidden meaning. He wouldn´t be surprised if she did and named her son that way to spite him and Robert. It brings nothing but troubles… and probably a rebellion from the Valyrian Houses that thought that another Prince Lucerys heralded a restoration. But now he didn´t have time to ponder on that. For now, he had to think about his approaching destiny and what he would say to Robert when he arrived. He already said that his goodfamily didn´t need to protect him, that he would accept his destiny, whatever it is, with dignity. And he kept reminding himself that up until the banners of House Baratheon appeared. Ned watched them from the battlement of Riverrun, then went down to find them. Alone. They could kill him… but he didn´t think Robert would do it. No, if he was going to kill Ned, then he would do it himself.

“Ned” the King said when his traitorous friend was in front of him, unarmed and without any wish to fight.

“Robert”

“It´s your Grace, you traitor” Tywin Lannister, recently named Hand of the King, said. He was ridding by the side of his goodson, wearing an armor full of golden, roaring lions. “You will address him as…”

“Just tell me something” Robert interrupted the Lannister Lord, staring directly at the man that was his oldest friend. “Were you trying to undo everything Jon and you and I did? Were you going to put the dragonspawn on the Throne?”

“No”

“Then fuck, Ned, why did you do it?! Why did you betray me?!”

“It was Lyanna´s dying wish that her son lived” he calmly answered.

“YOU LIE!! SHE WAS MINE!! AND THAT DRAGONSPAWN KILLED HER!! SHE WOULD HAVE DESPISED IT!!”

“But it´s the truth, Robert” the Lord of Winterfell continued, speaking the whole truth for the first time to his dearest friend. “She was dying when I found her, a babe a breast. She made the nursemaid there put him in my arms and told me his name, just before making me swear that I would protect him. That is the whole truth” he sighed. “Back then, I thought that I could simply raise him and send him to the Wall when he was old enough, that it will be all… but since he found out his true origins, he turned into something I can´t recognize. Something… I couldn´t control… for that, I ask forgiveness. I couldn´t raise him well.”

“Forgiveness” Robert spit. “Forgiveness after all you have done!! After you betrayed me?!! Oakheart!! Arrest Lord Stark right this instant!!” the Kingsguard advanced to restrain the former Hand of the King. “I won´t kill you, Ned, but you won´t see your beloved North ever again… you will be my hostage for the North, in case it goes into the heads of some of your lords to support the damn dragonspawn… and when I kill him, I will serve you the head of your damn nephew in a silver platter!!”

Eddard didn´t answer, letting himself be dragged away. All in all, it had gone better than he thought. Even if he never saw his family or his home ever again, they were safe and that was more than he could have hoped. The ride to King´s Landing was done in silence, but as soon as he was trusted into a bedchamber smaller than he was used to, probably adequate for a servant and heavily guarded as was right for a political prisoner. He thought that no one would want to talk to him now, but he received surprise visits from both Tywin Lannister and Varys the Spider. They both wanted to hear about Lucerys, about what kind of person he was, if he was as mad as his grandfather or was more like Rhaegar. About his plans now that he married his aunt… he answered some, but he could see their dissatisfaction with the information they gained from him. It was fine by Ned, even if it showed that he didn´t know his nephew anymore. His family was safe, Lucerys was safe and that was everything that mattered to the Stark Lord.

Much more surprising were the visits of the Grand Maester Myros, who seemed very taken with the physical appearance of his nephew. During one of their talks, the schoolar confided in the Northerner that he was making experiments with peas of different colors, trying to uncover the secrets of inheritance of physical traits. He had tried to do it with men too, but that was too difficult, too many things to take into account. And with the mixture of bloodlines, it was even more. Rarely had he an opportunity to see the crossing of such pure bloodlines like the ones of the Starks and the Targaryens. It was an opportunity that he couldn´t let go, so he was taking notes. Ned found his enthusiasm amusing… which is why he thought that it was Myros coming to visit him that night when he heard steps outside his doors. But it was not. It was Arys Oakheart.

“Ser Arys, what happened?” Eddard asked, seeing how pale the Kingsguard was.

“The Crown Prince… he…” what? What happened to Cersei Lannister´s bastard? “The Crown Prince has been poisoned!!”

-In Winterfell-

Robb had gone to sleep with a head full of problems. He was prepared for his dreams to be uneasy, but not for the apparition of the same boy with his veins cut open as before. He felt the tentation to run again, but then he realized that he knew who he was and what he wanted. Or at least, he was sure that he did. So he opened his arms, allowing him to advance. The boy stopped shortly before reaching Robb, as if unsure.

“It´s alright, Aerys” the heir to Winterfell said, reassuring his grandnephew. This boy should have been part of his life… and now he had an opportunity to make it so. Even if it was too late now. “Come to uncle. He is eager to hear whatever you want to tell.”

Aerys Saeragyon flung himself into Robb´s arms, embracing him tightly. And with that embrace, the Young Wolf was flung into the future. Not any future, but the future around the boy in his arms, the truth of Aerys. He saw his birth and happy childhood with his mother and father. His niece Daenys was a nightmare to her enemies, but such a good mother that it hurt him to know her destiny. Jacaerys Saeragyon was her companion and love, so close they were that it made him jealous. He saw the good Aerys had made, the pride in Jon´s eyes as he made his name known, maybe not as warrior but as philanthropist, despite ridding the dragon known as Caraxes… the moment he received the first secret letter from Bran, his heart came to stop. He wanted to yell at the boy that it was a trap, but he didn´t seem to listen. He wanted to scream more, specially at Bran, for taking advantage of their family bond to lure an innocent child to trap…

The moment Aerys and Caraxes were attacked over Storm´s End, he actually screamed. Aerys had followed all the instructions, done everything they wanted, been promised safe passage by BOTH BRAN AND SANSA. He had only wanted to repair the bond between Jon and those he once called siblings, done something good for his grandfather… but he earned nothing but a prison cell for his efforts. At least he saved his dragon, ordering him to flee before the scorpions could finish their job despite having to be left in the waters of Shipbreaker Bay. The moment Aerys truly saw Bran and Tyrion in Gendry Baratheon´s dungeon, the sinister smile Brandon Stark gave his grandnephew as he promised to break him… the screams of the boy would haunt Robb until his dying breath. By the time his uncle Tahaegor had come for him, the paladin had found only the remains of his nephew. They tried to put that together, of course, but the young prince felt the madness clawing at his soul every second. He ended up killing himself… but that didn´t bring him peace. Dead and buried, but unable to rest Aerys Saeragyon remained. Trapped in that place between life and death until the Raven was sent back to his own rightful place. Left to cry as his own grandaunt, one of the people who deceived him, toast to his death in front of all the North and earning their scorn, probably ending House Stark too. Left there to see his ambitious, cowardly cousin Vhaegon claim his beloved dragon and knife Jon to death, ending House Targaryen too… then nothing…

When he woke up, Robb was resolved to make things right. He couldn´t do much about Bran at the moment, but he has instructions about how to deal with Sansa. And breaking that arm seemed to be important. Without Sansa, Bran wouldn´t be able to move so easily. Or at least would not have so much support. Another thing was Tyrion, but he was far away from the North and unable to do something for his King. If he get out of the North… no, he couldn´t take down Tyrion for the moment. So, for now, he would deal with Sansa… and bring Rickon closer to himself. He needed to protect him… and he would be dammed if Brandon or the thing inside him took control of the North too. With that resolution, he opened the letter of his father, made some modifications to the plans and sent the letters. In a month, with much problem, everything was ready. Surprisingly.

“You can´t do this!!!” Sansa barged into the room, her face red and her fists shaking in rage. Ah, so she was informed now. Sincerely, he was surprised she had not been informed before, with all the time she spent with Bran. Perhaps he had decided he could prescind of her. “Daryn Hornwood!! Fucking Daryn Hornwood!! That´s a minor House of the North, definitely not worthy of a daughter of House Stark!! You can´t do this to me!!”

“Perhaps, but father can. And to arrange your betrothal to a minor northern house was his final order.”

“You can´t do this, I´m the Queen…”

“You were, but aren´t anymore!!” he punched his table, glaring at his sister. Actually glaring at her, which seemed to scare her a bit. When had things come to this? When had he started to see his sweet little sister as a shrew? “And let´s be realistic, Sansa, if you wanted to have a good marriage, you should have behaved. Or do you think I didn´t know about your little plot to slip Alys the moon tea? About your toast to Aerys death that lost you the North?”

“Who told you that? Arya?” Sansa was cold now. She almost looked like the old, mad crone with a crown she had been in his vision.

“I found through my own means.”

“Oh, so that´s going to be, brother mine?” she crossed her arms. “Am I to be another Cassandra Baratheon, married below my station as a punishment for my plots? Banished to a small fortress in the middle of nowhere, never to be heard of again?”

“Just be glad that the man I´m marrying you to isn´t some old knight with several children, but a young heir who remained unmarried. Your children will inherit the Hornwood, Sansa, that if you deign yourself to have them this time.” He sighed. “Sansa, he is a good man. I got to know him during the war and he is honorable and kind. Daryn will take good care of you.”

“And will make sure I can never rise high. Never wear a crown…”

“Consider that a boon, you with a crown resulted in disaster… sister dear” Robb finished the argument. “Would you mind to retire now? I have work to do.”

Sansa seemed still angry, but there wasn´t anything she could do. At least nothing not underhanded. Lady Catelyn would surely arrive later to tell him something similar, but she will have to understand too… besides, his mother seemed to have distanced herself from Sansa and Bran since she was informed of the kind of people they were. He grabbed the wine decanter and poured himself some… just before noticing the crow looking at him from the roof. He immediately left it.

“You” he addressed one of the guards, who squared immediately at his tone. “Get me and Lady Alys a food taster right this instant.”

“Good” Bran clapped, emerging from the shadows as the guard went away. “You are learning. Perhaps there is still hope for you.” He stared at the cup. “By the way, good move. Sansa definitely wanted to poison you after you turned her into a Northern Cassandra Baratheon.”

“Father did that, not me”

“She was never good at not shooting the messenger” he shrugged. “But it´s also not a good thing to make her your enemy. Specially after what happened to poor, little Aerys Saeragyon…”

“That was you”

“And who do you think suggested the plan?” he smirked. “Also, have you considered the ramifications of marrying her off instead of simply killing her? Be careful or you might find yourself with a knife on the throat” he turned around and made a hand gesture. “Goodbye, brother.”

-In King´s Landing, a few days before-

Cersei Lannister finished putting her rubies into her hair. Another day of being married to a totally useless King, another of having to look her best while her husband made a mockery of them by gurgling down food or groping serving wenches. Well, at least that little bitch Sansa was gone and unable to plot with her deformed brother any longer and they had the Starks well in hand. There was no way Robert would believe anything they said after what their lord had done. For a second, she wondered how Lucerys Targaryen looked. She knew she had seen him before in more than one occasion, but she hadn´t paid the attention deserved to the boy. Was he more like his father or his mother? He was said to be dark of hair, but the rumors seem to contradict themselves. And talking about rumors, she had heard about the strange number of stranger weddings going around lately. Lucerys and Daenerys Targaryen… The Bastard of Driftmark and a Rogare woman from Essos… not that she cared… one of Oberyn Martell´s bastard vipers and a knight from House Dayne… boring… and apparently the Tyrells were having troubles as their heir was pursuing Randyll Tarly´s daughter against Old Olenna´s wishes… amusing for a tea time, but not interesting enough.

As she advanced to the room where the feast for the boar that, again, nearly killed her husband was, she prayed to the Seven that Robert died. But, even if she couldn´t believe it, Tyrek resulted being even more useless and brainless than Lancel. Seriously!! What happened with her uncles´ gets?! Were they dropped on their heads as babes by their hideous mothers? Her eyes instantly landed on her precious Joffrey when she entered the room. As she brought herself to her seat and sat down, politely eating a few bites, and trying to find something to entertain herself. The bards were terrible and the conversation worse, but she couldn´t embarrass her father, the Lord Hand. She ended up looking at her firstborn again. Her dear boy already looked the part of a King… so much like his father. Thoughts of her twin made her humor fall. She heard that he recently had a brat with that ugly wife of his, Jocelyn. Still a babe, it would be easy to get rid of her if…

A sound of pain interrupted her thoughts. She turned towards where it came from, coming face to face with Joffrey again. But this time he wasn´t looking like a King. His eyes, his ears, even his mouth… it was shedding blood. Cersei shrieked when she saw him doubling up in pain. Tyrion, new Master of Coin, was at the other side, looking bewildered. Immediately, Tywin Lannister ordered to bring a maester and everything descended into pandemonium as Cersei screamed that Tyrion had poisoned her son. Because who else could it be? Who else would dare to kill such a precious prince, such a perfect future King?
As the night progressed and more of Joffrey´s lifeblood poured out of his body, making the boy contort in pain despite the milk of poppy they feed him or what the maester do to stop the hemorrhage. Cersei didn’t move from the sickbed for a moment, not even when her child´s cooling hand slipped from her hold. Her brother had poisoned her son and no one would make her change her opinion. Her brother and that Stark bitch of his, curse them both!! She would make them pay, make them…

“Control yourself, Cersei” Tywin ordered in that cold voice of him that always stopped her. “Stop and think a little, what would Tyrion gain from killing Joffrey now?”

“To hurt me”

“It´s not worth the risk and he never touched the cup, so there isn´t any proof. So, instead of acting like a madwoman and wail, you should dress and go to the sept to see to Joffrey´s burial. I will find the guilty party.”

“It´s…”

“Cersei”

“Yes, father”

-In Volantis-

“You came back” Daenerys said as Larence Saeragyon took off his cape. She extended her hand and Lucerys´ fan was deposited on it. She examined it, noticing that effectively, one of the rubies was gone. “Soon we should heard the news of the Usurper´s “son”´s death. Tell me, have you seen this act?”

“Wyrm´s Blood is one of the most powerful poisons ever concocted, one of those rubies is enough to kill a fully grown man. The victim bleeds to death and suffers… suffers more than I could put into words.”

“Good”

Such a harmless thing, something to adorn someone as if they were a pretty ornament… but with a hidden lethal effect. Valyrian steel daggers hidden, sharp enough to draw blood and each jewel was a poison that could be slipped into the cup of an enemy. The Valyrians were nothing but crafty, the Queen thought to herself. Adornments like this were made for the court of the Dragon Emperor, where it was forbidden to show yourself armed. So the nobles bended the rules and didn´t show themselves armed… also being armed to the teeth with that type of jewels. Smart indeed.

“Are you going to leave now?” she asked.

“Yes, I need to reunite with Prince Lucerys now that I have the fleet” Larence smirked. Aurane had done a magnificent job using the money Jon had given him from the Targaryen vault in the Iron Bank to build a great fleet and man it with his own trusted men just under the nose of everyone. “It´s time to see to the fate of the Free Folk.”

“Great” she smiled. “See you job done and return with my husband intact.”

“As my Queen orders” he bowed and left.

Chapter Text

“Lord Stark, might you accompany us”

Eddard was surprised to see his guards, more that they were taking him out of his captivity. As he was escorted down the corridors, he wondered if Robert knew that his former friend was being let out for the day. He doubted that it was by his order, as the King hadn´t expressed the least desire to see him since finding out about Lucerys… maybe this was Tywin Lannister´s entire doing.

As he was walking down the corridors of the Red Keep, he noticed the changes around. But being fair, it was very hard not to notice. First, because of the murder of the Crown Prince, the next in line to the Throne, Tommen, had been sent immediately to his uncle (or father) Jamie in Casterly Rock. The New Lord Hand had decreed this for his own security and, while the queen had complained, he had been unmoving. As for Princess Myrcella, Lord Tyrion had suggested a betrothal to the Tyrells to gain allies against the dragons. Unfortunately for him, Lord Tywin thought that the Tyrells would make better allies if their precious rose was married to the next king, so he had made the offer to marry Tommen to Margaery and started negociating with the Martells to betroth Myrcella to Quentyn or Trystane… a big mistake, if you ask either Eddard or Tyrion himself.

Apart from that, the amount of soldiers in the Keep had increased, perhaps because of the now believable Targaryen threat. Also, scorpions started to decorate the turrets and every high surface of the Red Keep in anticipation of Morghul´s appearance. Also, the King and Queen started to use the services of food tasters and every servant was interrogated by Varys the Spider himself… Eddard pitied them. But not as much as he pitied Robert, for deluding himself that he could do something against that massive dragon. Robert seemed to think that Morghul and Lucerys were like Rhaegar, but Ned knew better. They were anything like his poor goodbrother. This one wasn´t going to fall because of a Warhammer on the chest…

“Oh, Lord Stark, you are here” Grand maester Myros saluted. In the room, Tywin and Tyrion Lannister were already waiting. Surprisingly, the body of Joffrey Hill was there too, when it should have been at the Sept. Lord Stark stared at him without emotion, good riddance. “We didn´t want to star without you.”

“I don´t know why” he said, entering the small, cold room and standing with the other highborn, the two guards behind him. “I am no longer Hand of the King.”

“But you surely will want to know about this, considering your… blood ties to House Targaryen” Myros continued, signaling the veins in the neck of the deceased bastard. “You see this? It seems like the prince´s veins exploded. I have seen something similar when studying with Archmaester Ebrose…”

“What kind of poison did you study that had the same symptoms?”

“That´s the thing, it wasn´t a poison. It was disease” the schoolar continued. “Have you ever heard of the butterfly disease or the Red Death? They are what the arch maester calls hemorrhagic fevers. They affect the body in a way that damages the veins and arteries and cause massive internal bleedings in the patient. It also causes a lack of coagulation that made healers unable to stop the bleeding.”

“Are you saying that my grandson was killed by an exotic disease that could only be found in Naath or Sothoryos?” Naath… that girl that followed Daenerys around according to Sansa, Missa or something like that, wasn´t she a Naathi? “Is that what you are trying to say?”

“No, I said that the symptoms are similar to the ones of a patient by a fever of the sort. The difference is that they presented too fast, without an incubation period or a light beginning stage… nothing that would prelude that fatal last attack” the healer continued. “The sickness must have entered his body in such a quantity… it simply doesn´t make sense.” He shook his head. “Until I remembered something else.”

“What?” Tyrion asked.

“During an exposition about Old Valyria in my time in the Citadel, Arch Maester Marwyn gave us a hearing about lost mysteries of the Freehold. He mentioned quite a few poisons that were usually used by nobles, minor and mayor, to kill each other and at least attempt to pretend they hadn´t been the culprits. Those poisons were like the Strangler, could be turned into crystals to be transported and dissolved in different substances.”

“Now that you mention that, maester, the cup Joffrey was drinking had a ruby on the bottom. A ruby that wasn´t there anymore when we picked it up after he died” Tyrion said, practically beaming. He was probably happy that no one would consider him guilty of his nephew´s murder after that. “I know, I examined the cup myself.”

“A ruby… yes, it has to be that…”

“Has to be what?” Tywin asked.

“Wyrm´s blood” the schoolar said, opening a book he had on the side. “It was a poison that was used by several nobles of Valyria to commit murder of their peers. They preferred it because it was quick and accessible. It came from a mixture of plants that was introduced to Valyria from Sothoryos because they were ornamental, but turned out to be poisonous. The mixture had a distinctive red color and could be turned into crystals resembling rubies.”

“A good merchant could have transported and sold the materials or poison…”

“That´s the thing, the plants used to fabricate the poison went extinct shortly before the Doom of Valyria, even in Sothoryos. And the Doom eradicated them for good… unless House Targaryen or House Velaryon, both minor but noble Houses of Old Valyria, brought existences of the poison with them when they fled the Doom.”

“Wouldn´t they had lost toxicity.”

“Many Valyrian poisons didn´t lose their toxicity with time, but instead had it increased.” Myros crossed his arms. “And if House Targaryen had it since the Doom, then perhaps is concealed in a family heirloom, something that could be passed down without anyone thinking it was dangerous. Lord Stark, have you ever seen your nephew with something adorned by rubies?”

Eddard didn´t answer, but they could see the guilt on his face. A very singular artifact came to his mind. That fan Jon… Lucerys always carried with himself. He already knew that it was sharp enough to be used as dagger, but the ruby decorations… that he always wondered why. Why to decorate a weapon like that? Now he knew. He also remembered Lucerys telling him something about the consorts and lords of Valyria always disguising their weaponry as luxury objects in the old days. He thought back then that it was just a small history lesson.

“There were a lot of objects with rubies in the Tower I found Lyanna in... I took them all to Winterfell along with her body and Lucerys when I returned north” he answered.

“Including a Valyrian steel fan decorated with rubies” Tyrion mentioned. “I saw it in Winterfell too… Lucerys carried it with himself back when he sang for Robert.”

“I see” Tywin said. “Thank you, Lord Stark, I think we know now who was the culprit of Prince Joffrey´s death.”

Ned didn´t want to believe that the boy he raised was capable of murdering, but he knew that his nephew was more than capable. Without his intervention, Joffrey Hill would have become King, a king that destabilized the Realm and made it ripe for the Mad Queen Cersei to take, who will weakened it enough to make Brandon, or whatever take control of his body, the King himself. Without him, it would be harder for the Starks to take control of the Realm. Eddard didn´t have anything against that… except that there was still a Lannister bastard in line for the throne. Something he would have to fix, but couldn´t do anything as a prisoner in the keep, practically under Tywin´s boot. He was escorted back to his rooms in the Keep, where he spent the next few hours reading Jon Arryn´s book. Myros had actualized it, with Daenerys and Lucerys now in the page of House Targaryen. It was then that it happened.

“Lord Stark”

“Lord Varys” despite his disguise, he recognized the eunuch as he came out of the secret passage. “What brings you here?”

“I thought that you might need some help” the Spider put a skin of wine on his table. “And to talk with a friend.”

“Are we friends now?”

“No… but I think that I might know someone that wants to be, despite everything you have done. Shall we?” he showed the Lord the entrance to the secret passage. Eddard followed, keeping an eye on the spymaster. What was he plotting now? “It was a good move to send your family back north as soon as you did, made them safe. Then the Lannisters didn´t have a hostage to hold over your head… what I don´t understand is why you hand yourself over? You could have gone with them.”

“Someone had to be punished and I didn´t want to drag the North with me into this problem”

“Is that why you betrothed your daughter to a minor lord´s heir and married your son to a lady of the North?”

“No… I did to keep them safe. All of them.”

He didn´t want to admit that Sansa had become something akin to Cersei Lannister, not when he still held the hope that his little girl would return to be the woman he raised her to be. But that didn´t matter now. He focused on the meeting, on getting out of there alive. Varys took him to a warehouse near the port, where a hooded figure was waiting. He lowered his hood, revealing a somehow familiar face.

“Lord Eddard Stark, let me introduce you to Ser Robar Royce. I think you have seen each other in the Tourney of the Hand”

“Lord Eddard, I have heard a lot of good things about you from my father. And don´t worry about my opinion of you, I know that love for a sibling can blind you sometimes. Trust me, I have done some stupid things for my siblings. Specially for little Ysilla…”

“Then you know that I would have done anything for Lyanna in such a situation” he crossed his arms. “what are you doing here, Ser Robar? And talking to someone that is considered a traitor to the Crown… surely your father didn´t send you here.”

“No, it was someone else. Someone that could offer you some help on your predicament” the man continued. “Lord Renly Baratheon. I am his Kingsguard…”

“Robert isn´t dead or sick yet.”

“But I will be when he is crowned… when King Robert dies. And surrounding himself by Lannisters, he is going to die sooner than later” Robar said. “Lord Renly is willing to offer you a pardon for the issue with Lucerys Targaryen and even offer your nephew a deal, that he won´t threaten him or his wife so long as they remain on Essos…”

“Lord Renly can´t be King before his older brother”

“Stannis doesn´t have what it takes…”

“He comes before Renly, that is the law. And something that I won´t overlook. Besides, I wouldn´t want the Tyrells to drag the North into the conflict they are…”

“What do the Tyrells have to do with this?”

“Didn´t they marry their rose to Renly?”

“That was the intend, of course. And Loras Tyrell was sure that his father would do that, but they refused. Even after we warned them about the Lannister bastards. That old hag Olenna refused… she also didn´t seem surprised. Mace Tyrell wanted to say something, but she shut him up and…” Robar frowned. “anyway, they refused to help Renly and to give him the hand of their rose. They practically threw Renly out of Highgarden… Loras barely managed to escape them.”

That was a surprise. The Tyrells should have allied themselves with Renly immediately, as they did in their past time. Unless one of them had come back too. Olenna? Perhaps, the former Lady of Highgarden surely was cunning enough to use the information she had to turn the tables on the Baratheons. In favor of them and who? If they had discarded Renly, then who was the ally they were supporting now? Certainly not Stannis, he was too close with the Florents for they ever to consider him. Whoever it was, Lucerys had probably shaken the board or thrown it into the air. It was going to be interesting to see what happened in the next few years…

-In Highgarden-

Willas watched as his grandmother and father fought. Or at least, his idiot of a father tried to fight with her, only to be easily shut up by his old mother. Mace was upset that he lost an opportunity to make his daughter Queen… as if Margaery had any chance to put Tyrell blood on the throne while married with Renly. Of course, Willas knew that the marriage would be a fleeting and chaste one, which would end with the would-be-King dead near Storm´s End by Melissandre´s sorcery. Something he was weirdly familiar with. Anyway, it wasn´t something he had any interest in avoiding. The Baratheons could kill each other for all he cared… in fact, that would be better.

“That is unexpected” Garlan stopped his brother on the track. “Especially because I thought grandmother would jump at any opportunity to make Margaery Queen.”

“Not this one” Willas told his younger sibling. “You know, I understand her in this one. In fact, I would have done the same” he smiled. “Someone once told me that Renly was copper, bright and shiny, pretty to look at but not worth all that much at the end of the day.” Of course, that had been something that Lucerys told him, who had heard it from Donal Noye in the Wall. And it couldn´t be truer. “Is there something else?”

“You have been very strange since that visit to Oldtown you made. According to grandfather, there wasn´t anything out of the ordinary in that visit… so why were you acting strange? At least that´s what I thought until Aunt Malora told me that she saw you exiting the Hightower in secret one night?”

“You believe the Mad Maid?”

“When she gives details like that you exited the Hightower and returned with strange package and a new cane.”

“Got out to buy a pretty cane from a good trading company.”

“In the middle of the night?” the knight crossed his arms. “Are you ready to talk about it now?”

“Not here”

Willas had to admit it, Garlan was good. And he sometimes forgot that his brother was smarter than he look, a true Tyrell when he made an effort. Too bad he was too busy practicing with his sword or with his wife to do that more often. As he walked, he noticed not for the first time how grateful he was that his body was no longer burned to a crisp. The only thing that the wildfire of the Lannister hadn´t taken from him was his life. His health, his family, the opportunity to give House Tyrell another generation, Highgarden, practically everything that he valued in the world… but not anymore. No, now he had the advantage. And the best part was that the Lannisters had no idea. But his brother… he trusted Garlan to keep his mouth shut if it was needed.

“You know that grandmother and I have been acting strange lately, no?”

“Strange is a way to put it”

“It´s because we both have plans on the way. Plans that might help House Tyrell to survive what is to come… even if Margaery doesn´t end up being Queen. Grandmother´s plan is on a stalemate after Daenerys Targaryen married her nephew, as she was supposed to marry Quentyn Martell to cement the alliance between us, the Targaryens and the Martells… fortunately I had a better plan.”

“You are in contact with the Targaryens?” Garlan was surprised. “Willas, that is treason!! If the King were to know…”

“He won´t know, he doesn´t even know that a member of the Targaryen´s small council is living in Westeros and supplying information” his brother was completely speechless at that. “I have been the master of Coin for the Targaryens since that night. Manage all the money, from the Iron Bank to the Rogare one.”

“Willas…”

“If Margaery becomes Queen for a Lannister, she is going to end up dead, Garlan. Cersei is not going to let anyone but her be Queen.”

“And if you are found?”

“Then I claim the responsibility, all of it” Willas was sure it wasn´t going to happen. After all, he was really careful. “But in case of that, I need someone to keep the family safe. And, with Loras acting like a lovesick puppy, I can´t think of someone better than my dear younger brother and one of the best swords in the reach” he pointed at a corner. “There is a package there, I want you to have it.”

“What are you playing at, Willas?” Garlan asked, but did as he was told.

“Not playing, I´m giving you a sincere gift” he said. “Open it, it´s yours if you want. If I were to keep it, it would be gathering dust and nothing else…”

“And what is…” the othere Tyrell got completely quiet when he finally opened the package. It was a longsword, definitely too heavy and long for his crippled brother to use, even being made of Valyrian steel. It had a big golden rose where the blade came in contact with the handle, with a malachite on the pommel.

“It´s named Queen of Thornes, a gift from the Queen herself. Wield it to protect the family… because it´s the most important thing we have. Grandmother, Father, Mother, Margaery, Loras, Desmera… even Horror and Slobber. And Leonette” He grabbed his hands. “Please, Garlan, wouldn´t ask you if it wasn´t important. I have a plan, I assure you that I have… but I need to make sure the family is going to be safe.”

“Only if you promise to also come out of this alive.”

“I promise I will do my best to make sure of that.”

“Be careful, Willas, and remember that in the Game of Thrones…”

“You win or you die, there is no middle ground.”

-In Dorne-

“How dare she?! How dare she spur Quentyn in favor of a bastard?! Of the one that shamed Elia?!!”

Oberyn was enjoying this, to be for the first time the one that had control while Doran threw a tantrum. As for Daenerys Targaryen, he wasn´t even sure that she had been aware of her betrothal, that they had negotiated with the Tyrells and not with the Targaryens, to his little nephew. As for Lucerys Snow… Jon Snow… or however he was truly named, he wasn´t even aware of his existence, but he had the feeling that neither had Olenna, despite having survived longer than him. And that if the old hag had known, he would have married her precious little rose to Lucerys. Just as Doran would have married Arianne to him, no matter what dishonor Elia could have suffered.

“Calm down, you are going to cause yourself a stroke, brother”

“If you haven´t yet, Oberyn, then I´m sure I can handle some anger” Doran apparently didn´t enjoy having the tables turned on them. “But this surely puts a damper on our plan to put our blood on the throne.”

“Are you going to double cross the Tyrells?”

“I´m sure Olenna is already planning to double cross us, selling her little rose to Tommen Baratheon” the Prince of Dorne turned to his brother. “Which is why we should secure our own link to the throne. I have received a betrothal offer for Myrcella to marry Trystane. I´m not accepting it yet, but I´m sending you to test the waters.”

“The Lannisters are more likely to kill me” the Red Viper said, being truthful. After all, he knew how the visit to King´s Landing ended up.

“No, they are going to be civilized so long as you don´t do anything stupid.”

“Like participating in a trial by combat?”

“Don´t joke about that, Oberyn” the older made a gesture. “Prepare an entourage to take to King´s Landing. Your daughters, perhaps Daemon. And take the Daynes from High Hermitage. Gerold Dayne is now related to our House and needs to take on more responsibilities.”

“Do I have to?”

“Yes, go prepare yourself.”

Oberyn wanted to complain and refuse, but he knew that Doran would never change his opinion. Not even in the matter of the escort. Also, he didn´t have anything that could prove that having Gerold Dayne anywhere near Myrcella Hill was a bad idea. Before Ellaria had killed her as Olenna told him, the young bastard had been deprived of her beauty by that very knight. A knight that now was his goodson. But there wasn´t any other option, he had to bring Gerold to King´s Landing. And, for Sarella´s sake, he needed to keep the idiot away from troubles. So, when the group from High Hermitage arrive to Sunspear, he spoke with Daemon Sand in secret.

“Keep an eye on Gerold Dayne all the time” Oberyn told his former squire. “Make sure he doesn´t do something stupid.”

“Yes”

“Good” then he noticed something. “What are you carrying on your back?”

“Something special… in case that we run into some problems. And don´t worry about Gerold, he is already warned. And Sarella is on the case” Daemon smiled. “I wouldn´t worry at all, I think that this visit is going to be very successful.”

Chapter Text

Morghul landed on a snow filled place. Lucerys looked behind his shoulder, at the big ice construction that once had been his home. Or at least, as much a home as it could be. It was difficult to believe that he had once thought that it was his destiny. Was Grenn there? Pyp? Satin? Toad? Edd? Uncle Benjen? Jeor the Old Bear? He didn´t care if Sam or Ser Aliser or Bowen Marsh froze to death in that damn Wall or were eaten by those zombified bears the Others brought with them, but it was a little bit difficult to leave those that served with him and were loyal behind to be killed by the White Walkers.

“If I look back, I´m lost” he said, repeating what Daenerys said to him when she explained how she did everything in her life. Then he turned to Ser Arthur and Armax. “Alright, it´s time to work. Who can tell me why the White Walkers won last time?”

“Because they are mystical ice men with mystical powers we are unable to beat?” the Kingsguard shot his companion a Look.

“Because of their unbeateable army of dead men.”

“Yes, Ser Arthur” Lucerys smirked. “Which is why we are going to do something about it. Namely, taking their army from under their feet by relocating the Free Folk to Yunkai and Astapor.”

“Yeah… that´s a good idea, but it´s not going to stop the Others from getting their army” the smith countered, crossing his arms. “Not if you are going to allow them to slaughter half of Westeros before even thinking about stopping them.”

“Who says I´m going to allow them to slaughter half of Westeros?”

“Isn´t the North half of Westeros on itself? And don´t you hate your cousins?”

“Just keep walking, we have things to do.”

Morghul apparently laughed behind him. He ignored his dragon, adjusting his fur cloak. He had changed his clothing in the first stop after Riverrun. Yes, he was used to extravagance after all his time as Prince Regent, but he only used gaudy things like that to mislead people, to make them underestimate him. After all, he had to become as sharp in politics as he was strong on the battlefield. And he was not beyond morphing his image to gain an advantage over people. Besides, during their time together, Daenerys had made substantiable changes in his image, both in his way of dressing and on his attitude. Mainly because she didn´t want him to pass their children what she called “his inferiority complex for being a bastard”. The worst was that after ruling for a time he realized that she was right. And had the feeling that he should have given image it´s due.

As for the place he was in, he had nearly forgotten how it looked like. It had been such a long time since he had seen it last. Just as much as it had been since he saw the Haunted Forest, the Fist of the First Men and Hardhome… Hardhome. It had once been his home, almost a lifetime ago. During the darkest moments of his life, when he still blamed himself fully for Daenerys´ death and everything that happened… but the friendship provided by Tormund, his family and the wildlings kept him sane long enough for him to survive. And to reunite with her. Which was why he wasn´t going to let them die.
Talking about them, a big, skins covered figure appeared in front of them as they walked through the snow. A known one, carrying a valyrian steel axe. It lowered his hood.

“Toregg” Lucerys greeted his friend. “I hope things haven´t been too hard.”

“Well, harder than I remember, yes. And definitely harder than it should be with the dragonglass and the Valryian steel you provided us.” He bit his lips. “Those motherfuckers simply keep coming.”

“It´s in their nature.”

“Yes” he guided them towards the fortified village. “We have managed to evacuate several villages. And from the others, we evacuated to Hardhome every person that would listen to us. Several others joined after the White Walkers became more active. Mance have been nominate leading us and planning an assault on the Wall, but we all know how that is going to end. Also, not many are so keen to come South.”

“Have you discussed my plan with Mance?”

“He would need to talk to you to see if he could trust you, but he thinks Astapor is as good as Westeros when it´s about fleeing the Others” he continued walking. “Some idiots got hopeful when they saw Val and me kill one of the fuckers, but you already know how that ended up.”

“You burned them?”

“Those that we could find. Six skins between them”

“Good, he was going to be a problem. And would probably try to steal Morghul if left to his own devices… not that he would not have paid for that” he smirked.
“Antoher thing I should know?”

“Ygritte is here, she and Ryk arrived earlier in the month after Rattleshirt´s group was waylaid and nearly completely exterminated by wights” he informed. “At least according to them. We are still looking for survivors.”

Lucerys stopped cold. He had not thought about his first lover for a long, but he knew that Daenerys was not going to like to have the girl close. Not considering that she used to sleep with her husband. But he also felt unable to leave her there to die. He was going to need to find a solution for that… Astapor wasn´t far enough for his wife not to reach in case of her anger. Was Lys? Tyrosh? He could always tell her to relocate in Pentos if it was the last choice, or even Bravoos, which was a staunch ally in their anti-slavery crusade. Then again, Ygritte might just do one more thing for him… he had told Sansa about her, no?

“You should be careful in Hardhome, it´s not the place you remembered”

Lucerys nodded, but he hadn´t expected to find the Hardhome he remembered. Or the Beyond the Wall that he remembered. He started singing the Last of the Giants in a low voice and that seemed to bring the attention of every person around. His image had also changed again. It was still black, but had different colors and skin. Not only because of the cold, but because the wildlings needed to recognize him not a foreigner, not as an outsider, but as one of them. He had lived with them enough time to recognize what they would recognize as belonging to their culture. Lucerys might not like that he had the blood of the Starks running through his veins, but he would use it if it was needed… to save the Free Folk.

“Crow” someone said.

“Please, don´t insult me” he said, facing him. “If I could choose an animal to be, it would be a dragon.”

“Aren´t you a wolf?” another person went to face him.

“Ah, Mance!! How have you been? I mean, since I caught you and made you participate in my little performance for the Usurper” the King Beyond the Wall didn´t answer. “I guess you didn´t want to stand out for the King.”

“He would have killed us all for helping you if he had realized what you were doing” Mance hadn´t found the Prince´s stunt even a little funny. And considering that the Free Folk king considered infiltrating Winterfell something fun… well, he should have considered before that it might bring him troubles. But the expression in the face of his uncle and his shrew of a wife was more than worth it. “You put us in a lot of danger, Targaryen.”

“Didn´t going to Winterfell already put you in danger? Specially in the middle of a royal visit?”

“That was different.”

“Different how?”

“We weren’t going to outright insult the Starks and the King in the face in two languages, only to watch them for a bit.” Mance was definitely funnier the last time he had worked with him.

“Come on, Mance, tell me that you didn´t have fun performing with someone that actually knew how to sing?”

“You are too full of yourself, Targaryen”

“Lucerys, please, I know that last names aren´t worth much here” he answered, advancing more towards the place he thought would be his home until his death, but that he had abandoned long before that. “Are you ready to hear my proposition?”

“Once the chieftains have reunited”

“Excellent”

Lucerys ordered his guards to stay outside. He knew how to defend himself in case of an attack and the chieftains of the Free Folk wouldn´t respect him if he needed to be protected. He sat down among them, as if he was one of them… he was in his terrain. He actually knew these people, manipulating them should be easy. And he would be doing this for their own good. His eyes roamed around from Tormund Giantsbane (he was very glad to see his old friend still alive and hope that he again died from really old age, surrounded by his grandchildren) to Morna Whitemask. Rattleshirt was notoriously absent, as were the Weeper, Sixskins, Crowkiller and Oldfather. Good, it seemed that Val had made her work and gotten rid of those who would cause trouble. He was about to also ask her to eliminate Styx and Sigorn, as the younger Thenn had genuinely loved his Karstark wife before their death (who was now Robb´s wife), but he decided in the end that it would be better to keep them. Their influence would do more good than harm. And he could find Sigorn another girl.

Anyway, he had everything under control. The Harles were against each other as always, but they both realized that there was little hope to protect their little fortress against the Others. Yvon the Heir, the one that took leadership of Oldfather´s raiding party after a fierce battle with his brothers, was going to be easy to convince too. Gerrick Kingsblood would go against whatever he or Mance said, just because he felt entitled to a throne. But he would be convinced too if his life was at risk. Tormund trusted in his son´s decision to trust him and was already willing to go if it means he would save his family. Ryk, who had taken control of a few survivors of his village, was also already convinced. Devyn and the Great Walrus knew exactly what they were against, having fled from the frozen shore, so they would accept. And Morna and Mance only needed the correct push. So… everything was on it´s place.

He started exposing his plan. He also said that he had provided the weapons that were able to kill the White Walkers, along with the information about where to find the other ones. Gavin asked for a trade deal, but Lucerys made his case about that not being enough to save the Free Folk in case of a massive attack. No, they needed a complete relocation of the entire population beyond the Wall to save them and give Westeros more time… not that he wanted to save any of those idiots, but because the Others were a problem that could swallow the whole world and he didn´t want that. Not again.

“Which is why…”

Before he could end that sentence, there were screams outside. The chieftains got up and whispered between them about the case, but then Val got in and screamed.

“Mance!! Walkers!!”

“What?!”

There was a pandemonium as everyone got up and gathered their things. Lucerys followed, ignoring Ser Arthur´s pleads for him to let himself be put into safety. As they arrived to the barrier of Hardhome, they all saw a huge group of wights commanded by at least two White Walkers there. Mance started to plead to the old gods, the others did the same. The Prince whistled. This army was bigger than the one that destroyed Hardhome the first time. Luckily he also had a much bigger weapon.

“Morghul, dracarys!!” he screamed. His dragon descended from the sky and burned the wights. The Walkers tried to do something about it, freezing the flames, but Lucerys was already onto that. A green rain was suddenly onto the Others, which exploded into a green inferno. It had been a risky bet, to use wildfire, but…

“What is that? Ships?” Gavin asked as the ships were made visible. Lucerys jumped as he saw Larence descending from the one on the front.

“Yes, ships that were manned by men loyal to me” the Prince started. “Now, I wouldn´t want to put anyone under pressure, but you could see what your destiny will be if you remain here. When will another horde of this size come here? Tomorrow? In a week? A month? And you are no closer to gather the weaponry you are going to need to fight the North. Because make no mistake, even if you can take the Watch, the whole North is going to fight to push you Beyond the Wall and towards the Walkers again if you dare to cross.”

“We can…”

“What? Take them? Kill them? Perhaps a few, with the dragonglass arrows and the valyrian steel I gave you… but the valyrian steel is about to come with me to exile.” He continued, a neutral expression on his face. “You might put up a fight, but you know that ultimately, against such a great enemy, you will die. Now, I´m offering you an escape from that fate. But it´s a limited time offer. Those are the only ships that are going to come for you, to help you to other lands where you can begin again. Under House Targaryen´s rule, of course, but you would live. And be able to keep some of your culture alive. And most important, your families” He looked at all of them. “Like I said, I didn´t want to rush any decision, but you have to choose now if you want to live or die.”

“I will go” Tormund was the first to answer. “Torygg trusts him and I trust my son. Besides, we all know that we won´t survive winter, let alone the Others, here. I´m sorry about this, but our home is lost.”

“Yes, it is” Morna sighed. “I will leave too, will tell my people to start walking.”

“Me too” Gavin and both Harles said.

Styx was reticent, but Sigorn said that the Thenns would leave before his father could say something. It sparked a fight between father and son, but he knew that if it came to worst, most of the Thenns would follow Sigorn. Yvon, Brogg, Soren and Howd were the next. Mance was the next, worried about Dalla and knowing that she would want to leave or Val would carry her and drag him to ships himself. Ryk followed Tormund´s family and took the survivors of his village with him. And most of the Free Folk followed Mance. The only one that stubbornly remained was Gerrick Kingsblood, but even he lost most of his followers, including his son and three daughters. Not a big loss anyway, Gerrick wasn´t particularly smart or someone he would want to keep at all costs.

“It was a good catch” Larence said when they were alone with Ser Arthur and Armax. “What would you have done if I hadn´t arrived in the right moment with the wildfire?”

“I would have mounted Morghul and made sure that the Walkers were killed” of course, he had attracted the Others using his dragon to route them, but it was for a good thing. Besides, he was only routing a reasonable amount of the bastards, he was not mad enough to attract a real army like the one that attacked Winterfell and much less the Night King. “I have everything planned.”

“You should stop manipulating people like that, even for a good thing” his knight sat down in front of the Prince Consort. “And about my petition…”

“Aurane´s friend will drop you off at Eastwatch by the Sea. From there, you will be able to reach Hornwood with Gaemon for company” they looked at each other in silence. “You don´t have to do it.”

“I have to, as much as I don´t want it” he sighed. “Daryn is my only brother… and my shield against the Tallharts. If he remains alive, then I´m going to have as much time as I want to plan in peace. To you too.”

“He is not going to remain alive for long married to my cousin.”

“Then I will give him the weapons to do that until we are ready” there was a knock on the door in that moment. “Enter”

Two women entered, both related to the past. Osha was one. He had picked her specifically because Rickon loved her like a mother and she would gain easy entrance to Winterfell thanks to that. The other was Ygritte. One of his reasons to pick her for this task specifically was because she used to be his lover and he didn´t want her anywhere where she could cause a misunderstanding with Daenerys. Another was that he had told Sansa everything about her, so his blasted cousin might recognize her and want to use her to get to him. it would be a very Sansa thing to do… and he would take advantage of that to the fullest.

“Close the doors, ladies” he said as they advanced. “We have a lot of things to talk about.”

-In Winterfell-

“A representative of the Iron Bank?” Robb asked as he put his quill away. “Sure, I´m going to receive him now. Please, escort him to the solar.”

The Heir to Winterfell waited until a thin, tall and taunt man entered the room. He presented himself as Tycho Nestoris, a humble servant of the Iron Bank. When the young Stark proceeded to ask him what have brought the Braavosi there, he produced a document about the Debts of House Stark. Robb´s eyes widened, he wasn´t even aware that his House owed something to the Iron Bank. When had his father taken loans? On last Winter? He didn´t remember it very well, but he knew that his father struggled to keep the North fed. He probably asked for a loan on that moment. Much to his surprise, it was not the issue. Apparently, his father had taken money from an outside source, but it was not a loan from the Bank, but from one of their clients. And their main loaner, who was demanding everything they owed plus interests to be paid, was Lucerys Targaryen.

“Excuse me, what?” he just… couldn´t understand. Why would his brother do something like that? He… but Jon…

“It´s simple” the banker presented him with more documents. “When such a young child as your cousin Lucerys inherits such a big sum of money in an account, their regents could try and appropriate it. To make things easier, we suggest to the parents that along with Regents they appoint someone else, someone of their entire trust, to manage and have power over the money until the child is grown. An account guardian, to put it some way.”

“And I guess that aunt Lyanna named someone that was not my father, her own brother, because she didn´t trust him” he clenched his fists. “Who is it?”

“Lord Howland Reed of Greywater Watch” A Northman? He was expecting the person to be a Velaryon or a Celtigar… someone of Rhaegar´s circle of influence, just to understand why they distrusted his father. “It turns out that during his tenure as young Lucerys´ account guardian, Lord Reed authorized Lord Stark´s use of the money Prince Rhaegar left in a secret account separate from the Iron Throne´s one for his children on the condition that he sighed a document detailing that he would pay back everything he used by the time Prince Lucerys reached his maturity.”

“He did, eh?” sounded like a very sensible thing to do. And if the money that has been loaned had been to feed the North… “I guess we acquired the debt last winter…”

“That´s when it started, yes, but it didn´t end with that.”

“What?” he asked. If not to prevent a famine during winter, then what were they used for? “Can I see those papers?”

Nestoris handed them to him. Of course, there was the acquisition of the debt during the Winter, a big but reasonable amount… something his father would have considered needed. Then he saw a lot of lower but still heavy amount borrowed from the account regularly. But why could they be? His father would have never done something like that and he was the only one with access to the account… it hit him nearly like a lightning. He lowered the papers, feeling like yelling already.

“Thank you for informing me of this, master Nestoris. Jory will accompany you to a room designated for guests. Theon, please call my mother and sister here.”
He waited until Lady Catelyn and Sansa were there. And he hoped there was a really good explanation for the problem that they had just gotten into. If not, he was going to give his mother a piece of his mind.

“Mother, by any cause, did you find another account father has access to in the account books, one with a lot of gold, and started to use them to buy luxury goods for yourself and us?”

“Yes, I thought it strange at the beginning, but if he had so much money, then Ned could invert it into our home and family” Lady Stark answered, not knowing where this was going. “Especially when it came to further his daughters´ marriage prospects.”

“I remember that account really well” Sansa said, suddenly realizing the problem again. “When I was Queen, I used it for a time to buy food for the North and reconstruct Winterfell… but then had troubles.” She smirked. “so he used that, eh?”

“Used what?”

“Lucerys” Robb started, feeling his head throb. Why hadn´t his father explained things or stopped his mother form using that account? Now they were in massive debt!! With the TARGARYENS!! “is demanding that we pay all the money we took from his account back. The account you used to further your daughters´ marriage prospects” Catelyn now was horrified. “You put us in a massive debt, mother.”

“This is blackmail” Sansa insisted. “He did exactly the same thing last time, causing a famine in the North!! He simply is trying to extort us into...”

“He isn´t trying to extort us, Sansa, he is demanding that we pay the money we borrowed from him now that he has cut ties with us. And honest demand, frankly, and that you don´t care to acknowledge that that money is not yours it´s not going to change that” he was making an effort not to scream, but he felt his head throb. Then there was a knock. “WHAT?!”

“I´m sorry, my lord, but…” Theon said in a low voice, as if trying not to be noticed. Or punished. “Two women showed up in the gates. The guards would have arrested them, but Lord Rickon is clinging to one of them.”

“What?”

More surprise arrivals? That was odd. He went to the yard and found Rickon hugging a woman he recognized as Osha. Alongside her, there was another girl with the looks of a wildling, with a mane of red hair and looking frozen. Both of them seemed confused, but they didn´t do anything. At least no more than lifting their hands, showing that they were unarmed. Sansa was looking at the redheaded girl with interest for some reason too.

“I´m Osha, and this one is Ygritte” the older woman introduced them when they were finally allowed in. Ygritte… Robb had heard that name before… Jon´s first lover!! Yes, she was that girl who died in his arms according to Sansa. “We have walked all the distance from the Wall after escaping the White Walkers…”

“Why? Your people are sending you as scouts for their army?”

“There is no army, lord, no more. A strange man from lands far away came and took nearly all of them. We were left behind, so…”

“A man? Who?”

“He called himself Lucerys Targaryen.”

Lucerys? Lucerys had been beyond the Wall? But why?! Why had he returned North with his dragon and not done anything to Winterfell or the other noble houses?

“Tell me more” he asked.

-In another place, later-

“Larence… is that truly you?” Lord Halys asked when he saw his bastard son in the entrance of his castle. He hugged him, surprised when the boy didn’t return it. “My boy, where have you been? We were worried…”

“I´m not the one you should be worried about” he said, then looked at his astonished half-brother. “I heard that you are getting married.”

“Yes, when Lady Sansa has grown a bit more” Daryn answered, not knowing where this was getting to. “It was a good match and I think she is quite the lovely…”

“She is a dangerous shrew, that´s what she is” everybody around sucked a gasp when he, a bastard boy, dared to insult a trueborn daughter of House Stark.
“You might see her a gentle maiden now, but you will see it in the future. Plotting is the only thing she knows to do. And she won´t doubt to sacrifice even you or father if it benefits her. If you trust her, she is going to be your end and House Hornwood´s too.”

“Careful with what you say, boy!!” Halys warned him.

“I´m a man in service of House Targaryen, but I still risked coming here to warn you. Do you think I made this trip just because I wanted House Stark to lose some face?” he raised an eyebrow. “Don’t believe me if you want, but you will do well to distrust her. That being said, I have fulfilled my duty as a family member and will leave.”

“Do you really think that we are going to let you leave so easily, dragon lover?” one of the guards asked, pointing at him with a lance.

“If you want to survive, yes”

The howl of a dragon made the earth shook, as Morghul appeared in the sky. Larence prepared himself, climbing quickly when the massive dragon landed just before the castle, roasting the guards stupid enough to approach him. he swallowed hard when he sat just behind Lucerys. It had never fit well with him, mounting a dragon. Not even when he was ridding just behind his son… he always got terribly sick when he did it.

“Did it go well, your little family reunion?” his prince asked once they had taken off to follow the fleet taking the Free Folk to safety.

“As well as it could… but consider them warned” Larence answered, already feeling the stomach acid fighting to escape his stomach. “Are you satisfied with the result of the game, my Prince?”

“Results, what are you talking about? The Game has just begun” he answered, thrilled. “And I have my eyes on the winning prize.”

Chapter Text

Robb Stark has drunk more wine than in the whole years he had lived in Winterfell under his father´s guidance. And why? Mainly because of his mother… or because of his sister who was complaining at their mother because she didn´t want to be another Cassandra Baratheon, even if it was set on stone by now. Specially when he realized that she hadn´t stopped trying to sneak moon tea to Alys or outright poison her. He wondered when his air headed little sister became such a shrew woman… maybe he should have exchanged her for the Kingslayer after all. Spending too much time in that Viper´s nest had changed her for the bad. She even seemed to be sure that taking Jon´s money and refusing to pay was justified, not plain stealing. Returning to Lady Catelyn, she was of the same mind, but with different justifications. According to her, they didn´t need to repay anything for housing Lyanna´s bastard (not her nephew) for so many years.

“It´s a repayment for the money we spent raising him” was her justification.

Unfortunately, the amount of money they had spent from Jon´s inheritance and the one they took from him wasn´t equal in the slightest. Even without counting the silks, velvet, myrish lace and carpets, jewels and countless other frivolous things that she bought for her and her daughters, the amount of dragons the Starks had spent from that account had been infimal compared to what they gained from him. And the frivolities were only the beginning. He had nearly fainted when he realized that nearly the entire Royal Visit had been financed by Targaryen gold. Ironical in some way, but he doubted it was the work of his father. So, after a huge amount of money spent on a useless king, his incestuous bitch of a queen, several bastards they had to feast and the entire court, the sum had nearly doubled. Which was why they were in such a big problem. Robb had already gathered nearly everything of value they could get rid off and sold it for the initial payment. His mother and Sansa had tried to hide some items and silks for Sansa´s trousseau, but he had managed to find everything (at least he thought it was everything) and sell it. Arya had been more cooperative, giving practically everything up that was not her Valyrian steel dagger (he guessed she needed that to kill the Night King if she got so close again), but even so, their initial payment didn´t cover as much of the debt as he wished. Which lead to him being trapped in his solar with maester Luwin that day.

“Well, this is a very delicate situation” the schoolar said after carefully analyzing the account books and the ledgers that detailed the debt provided by Nestoris. “Specially now that some of the items your mother bought had been devalued for being second-hand…”

“They are still luxurious.”

“Yes, my lord, but you aren´t understanding. The jewels might lose value now that they have been worn by the previous owner, the rugs might also lose value now that they were stepped on” the erudite continued passing the papers. “The worst are the silks and other valuable fabrics. When they were bought, they had a certain prize as a raw product, but most of them had been cut and turn into gowns or clothing by now. Clothing made to fit the size of the Stark family, that no other person has. Of course, they could be altered to measure the new owner, but they lose much value because of that.”

“And the ones that were sold as raw product?”

“Few and some of them have gotten out of trend, replaced with others. Might be more valuable than the finished clothes, but they have lose some of the original one too” the both of them seemed tired. “My lord…”

“I know” he said as he took another sip of wine, wondering how Jon could be doing this to them. Did he know how much damage he was doing to the Starks? Oh, who was he kidding. Of course his brother… cousin knew exactly what he was doing. “Something that could be done?”

“We can use the money for the glass gardens…”

“No!!” he screamed, knowing full well the importance of such structures. If War of the South, or worse, the Long Night hit them, then how were they going to feed their people? They need to stop depending of the Reach to give them food and produce it themselves. “We need the glass gardens.”

“I´m not saying that it´s not important, considering the… circumstances… but the debt is going to strangle not only Winterfell´s coffers but the whole North down if we allow it.” Luwin frowned. “And that is if the Lords of the North don´t revolt.”

“The North would never rise against the Starks” he said, very sure. Then he remembered what his grandnephew Aerys had showed him and he wasn´t so sure.
“My Lord, to pay this debt we will have to heavy tax them for the next following years. And I´m not talking about two or three, but at least a decade if not more. Most Northern Lords would not be able to shoulder. It would ruin them.”

“Do you think that´s what Jon… what my cousin Lucerys wants? To make himself look like an option instead of the Starks in the eyes of my bannermen?”

“I´m not sure about what he wants, my lord. He is far from the boy I used to know and taught… but then again, I never really thought about him as more than a future Lord Commander of the Night´s Watch or minor bannerman of House Stark. The man he has become… no, the prince he has become is far more cunning than I ever thought him able to be.”

“Kill the boy and let the man be born…” he repeated, remembering that Jon said that once. “Sorry, he said those words to me.”

“A most wise advice, my lord. And I think it´s time you do the same… if you are to survive what is going to come.”

“I´m aware” he said as he reached for the wine decanter again.

Robb savored each drop of wine until his cup had been emptied, long after maester Luwin left the room to ponder on options to repay their debt. The Starks weren´t Lannisters in any way, but only a fool would try to dodge a debt with the Iron Bank. Who, by the way, also had an interest in making the Starks repay that debt, because, according to Lord Manderly, the Targaryens were invert lots of money into them since taking over half of Essos. Both enterprises seemed to flourish with that, especially with their new kingdom freeing the slaves, as the Braavossi despised that practice, and the trade they had started, from which the Iron Bank now got it´s due. Besides, he had heard that Valyrian Steel had mysteriously entered the market, including a few swords. The Iron Bank auctioned them in the name of an anonymous client. Who says that his brother and goodsister hadn´t auctioned old family property? Or made some new steel. Arya told him that it was possible to make Valyrian Steel if you have dragons and dragonriders…

“You seem worried, brother” Brandon entered in that moment, as apathetic as ever. “Not water or plain ale yet?”

“Still have some wine in our possession” Robb answered, not wanting to fall into the Raven´s games. They have proven more dangerous than the Game of Thrones itself, depending on how useful you were to him. “And I intent to savor it before the barrels run dry, because I´m not sure we will be able to taste it anymore… for several generations at least.”

“Oh, the debt is that bad?”

“How do you know we are in debt?”

“Nothing escapes me, brother, I know it all” the answered sitting down. “Also, you should know that mother has been complaining quite loudly about it. By now, all of Winterfell and perhaps some of the closest northern territories must know that we are deep in debt with House Targaryen, who are backed by the Iron Bank.”

“I asked her to keep it quiet, that could bring seeds of sedition.”

“Not really. I mean… who else but us? Our cousin Lucerys, who put the North in debt with him in the first place?” the Raven smirked. “Then again, I won´t say that this isn´t bad for us. The bad tongues says that the Lady of Winterfell is the one that plunged us into this situation because of her reckless spending in frivolities, so the Lords are going to demand some kind of punishment for our mother… perhaps even that she is sent back to the Riverlands.”

“And you say that it´s not that bad.”

“Oh, you should have been how bad was the debt during Sansa´s time. Winterfell had needed a reconstruction and more to fit her taste, so she nearly doubled the sum you have to pay by now. Not only on herself, of course, but when the control of that money was taken from her, that´s when things got complicated.”

“Famine”

“Exactly”

“We are not talking about Sansa now, she is innocent in the eyes of the North…”

“But our Mother is not. Besides, isn´t she really the one that spent all that money without asking where it came from first?” he raised an eyebrow. “You know someone must be punished, Robb. You have to choose between the future of this House and her.”

“What did Sansa do when the repayment was demanded?”

“She ignored the debt existed and asked for more money. Pretty Cersei Lannister, if you ask me, to expect that gold never stopping flowing towards you…” he moved his head a bit, pretty much like a bird. “But in her defense, she had to commit a lot more of mistakes, even some unforgivable ones, for the Lords to abandon her and flock to Lucerys.”

“I thought he was heir anyway. With you in King´s Landing, Arya disappeared and Sansa without an heir…”

“I was her heir”

“And who was yours?”

“I didn´t need one” he answered, and Robb could practically hear a beak clapping, as if threatening to cut his neck. “Lucerys is not a Stark, the sooner you make yourself conscious of that, the sooner…”

The two brothers stared at each other and, not for the first time, Robb couldn´t recognize the old Bran in that body. It was hurtful, to know that he had lost a brother even with the mercy of the Old Gods and he was never coming back, but he also had come to accept it. After all, he hadn´t just lost a brother, but lost two. Bran and Jon… the Three Eyed Raven and Prince Lucerys Targaryen had practically erased them from history. He felt that he would eventually be able to make up and accept one, the other…

“What were you talking with Sansa the other day, Bran? She seemed to have been awfully pleasant to Darryn Hornwood since he arrived, even if she doesn´t like that she is marrying him and nagging mother to interfere on her behalf.”

“I only reminded her of why Lucerys had an upper hand the last time” he seemed very pleased with himself. “I think that I helped you too, as she isn´t slighting the Hornwoods as we talk.”

“Should I worry about later?”

“Not until she gets what she wants… and finds some way of getting rid of you and whatever brat Alys might push out. Rickon too, perhaps.”

“And what does she want?”

“The upper hand neutralized” he raised a finger. “Children. Last time, Stark legacy would have ended with her and she had no child to forge marriage alliances with. Arya was missing and I couldn´t have children… but Lucerys had three children and several more grandchildren to barge with.”

“He would sell his own children?”

“I don´t know about him, but Rhaegar was more than willing to. Daenys would have preferred to marry her children to their cousins or one another, but she was willing to let Aenar marry North… if he was going to inherit Winterfell…”

“Why Aenar? Why not one of Rhaegar´s or Daemon´s children? They had Stark blood and would be the most direct heirs…”

“But the Saeragyons were the ones with the most Northern blood in their veins. Both of the Starks of Winterfell and the Hornwoods… perfect to rule the North. They only needed a few convenient marriages, like the one of Wynafryd Manderly´s eldest daughter to Aenar Saeragyon and the ones of his sisters Gael and Alysanne to the Glover and Mormont heirs… and the Conquest is finished.” His smile turned a bit cruel. “Wonder how long it will take them to do it this time.”

“He won´t do that to me, to any of my siblings…”

“You are talking as if Jon Snow is still here between us. But, as I´m trying to tell you for a long time, he is long gone. And his children are anything but Starks”

He got up and left, making Robb´s blood boil. He had already accepted that he had lost Jon, but he didn´t want to believe that what they cultivated all those years together had simply disappeared. But then again, Jon and Arya had been closer than any of them and it only took one thing big enough to break that bond. And he doubted Jon would ever forgive the Starks, all of them, for that. Not even if Daenerys and ultimately Rhaella too returned to him.

Talking about Arya, she had disappeared again. To where? He wasn´t sure. He only knew that she had a mission to accomplish and that she wasn´t going to stay in Winterfell while she was needed somewhere else. He had the feeling that whatever she was doing, it would be to the benefit of House Stark, so he let her go. She had left a letter for their mother, to keep her calm… it had the opposite effect, of course, but they had managed to keep her calm… for now.
Between Sansa´s games and Arya´s he was getting nervous. He didn´t need Lucerys messing up their lives even more right now. Or the South. But he couldn´t shake the feeling that he had to make some plans of contingency, just in case, and for that he needed to get more point of views. Ser Rodrik and maester Luwin were good advisors, but he needed others. And this time, his mother wasn´t going to be between them. He already had a few names in mind, starting with his great uncle… if he could be convinced to come. And Lord Wyman to know how to handle financial difficulties? Yes, that could do it…

-In King´s Landing-

Eddard Stark was reading an old book in his room. He was not particularly interested in economy or accounting, he wasn´t a Baelish in any way, but he had some understanding of it from being a Lord Paramount for years. And, since his nephew decided to make them pay in the most literal way, he felt that Robb was going to need all the help he needed. So here he was, searching for an answer to a problem that he himself had generated, starting when he first took dragons from Lucerys´ inheritance. He had only wanted to make it easier for the people of the North during Winter, but he had plunged his family and land into debt. He just… thought he had more time… to explain and to make him understand… but no, he had to get the Iron Bank into this. He knew that he should have stopped Catelyn from using that gold, but he never thought that she would spend so much!!

So here he was, trying to find a solution in economy books that wouldn´t financially ruin the North, all while enduring the mockery of Robert, who had been more than elated to find out his former best friend was also a beggar counting coppers now.

“Lord Stark, your meal is here” the Kingsguard in turn opened the door to let a young servant girl enter with a tray in her hands. This was unusual, it wasn´t time for a meal yet. And he hadn´t ordered anything.

“But I didn´t…”

“Milord, here is the meal you ordered. I couldn´t find anything from the North, I´m afraid, but this should be close enough” the North? This must be a code of some kind. This girl was a spy, from whom? He wasn´t sure. But… it wasn´t the Lannisters, he was sure.

“Yes, I remember now”

The Kingsguard closed the door. The girl put the tray on the table and took a hand to her face. It was Arya… using the face of some girl that perhaps had been working on the Red Keep before. He doubted that the girl had willingly surrender her face too. His daughter sat on the bed, smothering his servant´s dress. What was Arya doing here? Didn´t she know this was dangerous? He knew that she could handle a lot of things, but some… the king had a taste for all kinds of girls, one that had practically doubled since he had lost his so-called-heir. The girl wasn´t particularly pretty, but she could still be prey to Robert…

“Stop thinking about that, I can take care of myself. If I don´t want to catch someone´s attention, then I won´t” the faceless woman answered, looking at his nails. “You seem to have been hard at work. Is the debt mother and Sansa got us in really that bad?”

“Were you doubting it?”

“No, last time it was bad enough to shoo any potential business partners away from the North and cause a massive famine… or something like that” she sighed. “But Sansa also made it worse. Not that she was the only one trying… the Black Flame of Tessarion, the Silent Master of Coin… have other names.”

“Never heard about him, what do you know?”

“Practically nothing, only that he had Lucerys´ full trust with the finances of House Targaryen… which wasn´t so easy to get after dealing with vermins like Lord Baelish and knowing what happened with his inheritance. He knew how to spot talent and put it to use, but trust? That was hard earned.”

“He earned it and you don´t know anything?”

“Yes, because, like I said, he was a silent one. Or more likely, he couldn´t speak. And it was not because he wasn´t willing to that” he sighed. “All his body was covered in terrible burns, probably from some accident he had. Other than that, that he was a westerossi of origin, maybe from the Reach… and that he lost everything in the War of the Five Kings or from the purge the Lannisters made in the Reach after Olenna joined Daenerys. It was the reason why he used all black and a mask that was crying over his disfigured face. So… a Redwyne, a Hightower, a Tyrell?”

“You are not helping much with that.”

“Whoever he is, he is probably behind the problem we are in now. Or was given the seed by Lucerys when he mentioned the document Howland Reed made to make sure you paid back with interest whatever you touched from his inheritance. Because I doubt even Reed would want to sink you so much.”

“Don´t underestimate Howland´s loyalty…”

“Don´t underestimate coin counters. Last time you did and we all paid the price, don´t you remember that?” was he always going to be reminded of Baelish and his trap? “Be grateful that I´m here to help you. And that I took care of that mockingbird. He could have easily had a dagger at your throat now.”

“He is not the only one.”

“Yes, Cersei also wants that. But she is too busy drowning in wine and trying to pin Joffrey´s murder on the Imp to notice that you exist for a while.” He sighed. “Yes, she is still trying to get rid of her brother. And convinced that he is the murderer of her son.”

“Should I be sad that the Lannister family is falling at the seams?”

“Sadder than seeing your own doing just that? No… but you should be glad that our enemies are also ripping each other apart. Also that the Dornish and Reachmen are not really interested in allying with the Iron Throne. Even if the Dornish are almost here.”

“Myrcella is getting betrothed?”

“Nothing is being sealed for now. And I think that the snakes have… other plans apart from accepting a little lioness posing as a doe.” She crossed her arms. “Anyway, with Prince Oberyn here we might have to be careful. I heard he has been visiting the Reach quite regularly lately, perhaps forging an alliance with the Tyrells. An alliance that shouldn´t have been formed until much after his death.”

“You think someone in Dorne has come back or…”

“Wouldn´t be surprised about it. Three of the Flames came from Dorne… and there is much in the game for the Martells” there was a knock on the door. “I need to leave now, but be careful. Don´t trust anyone else and remember that this place is full of spies.”

“Arya”

“Will see you later”

She slipped her face on quickly and left as the serving wench. Ned was left alone again, with the food still on the table and some books. The Dornish, eh? He hadn´t interacted with Oberyn Martell before, at least not directly, but knew his reputation. And his end. If he was the one that returned then things might get a bit messy…

-In the Reach-

“How long until I reach my destination?”

“Only an hour or so more, my lord”

Willas nodded inside the carriage before returning to his papers, very pleased with himself. Since Lucerys handed him management of the Targaryen accounts he had managed to put the Starks on their knees, put the Baratheons as fools, as well as the Lannisters when he bought some of the Iron Throne´s debts. He even implicated the Iron Bank in that, promising a part of the pie which they surely can pay with the Valyrian Steel Armax will produce when the dragons were grown, guaranteeing the repayment and saved the Rogare Bank from bankruptcy… all without being discovered and countering the movements of his grandmother. Just as he was doing right now.

“Lord Willas, we are pleased to welcome you to Horn´s Hill” Randyll Tarly and Lady Melessa welcomed him in Horn Hill. The old huntsman gave him a hard look… not very fond of cripples, eh? Just as you weren´t fond of fat pigs, but you had reason with your traitor of a son.

“Thank you, Lord Tarly” he answered, coming down from the carriage carefully. He was wearing the colors of his House, contrasting very much with the dark robes he used to wear when he was the Flame of Tessarion… not that anyone would know just by seeing him. “I appreciate it.”

He received bread and salt, then came into the Keep. He was pleasant the whole time. After all, he needed to use them to counter one of his grandmother´s most damaging moves and put the Reach Lords on the side of the Queen and Prince… or keep them, because for now most of them were loyal to the Targaryens. Randyll Tarly might change his cloak again if offered enough, but if he made a beneficial offer before, he might counter the Lannisters. Or the Starks, in case Sansa thinks anything funny. He couldn´t fail this, so he was at his most charming that night.

“Why are you here, Lord Willas?” Randyll finally asked as they dinned together. Lady Melessa was there too, but Dickon and the other girls had already sent to their rooms for the night. “I doubt it´s only because Horn Hill is a nice place to be. Did Lady Olenna send you?”

“No, I came by myself” he answered truthfully. “I don´t know if someone had mentioned it, but she plans to wed me to Sansa Stark.”

“That would be an auspicious marriage. She is the daughter of a Lord Paramount, with a big land, a good match… or would be if the Starks weren´t broke” he nearly smirked. News travel fast. “Yes, we know about that. It seems that traitor Stark served himself of the Targaryen gold. Too bad he wasn´t careful enough with how much he allowed himself to take… or that someone was going to make him pay.” He raised an eyebrow. “Does she already know?”

“She does, but she seemed to think that the North is still important enough. Not that it isn´t, but I would prefer if it… changed hands in the future” he pulled out a letter. “I come from the true King and Queen, to gather those that are loyal.”

“Is this some kind of test by the hag?”

“Would I have bankrupted the Starks if it was?” he answered. “I am loyal to the dragons, as I know you are. You, Mattis Rowan and many more… has that changed?”

“I had my doubts about Daenerys Targaryen, but she married someone from Westeros…” he rubbed his chin. “I still have my doubts, your family could be planning to get a crown from the Lannisters by marrying your little rose to their young cub…”

“Margaery will never marry a Lannister, just as I never will marry a Stark” Willas continued. “In fact, that´s why I am here. And to honor someone that remained loyal” also to remind him to continue loyal. “I want to ask you and Lady Melessa for the hand of your daughter Talla, Lord Tarly. She could be the next Lady of Highgarden.”

“That´s an interesting proposition” he gave him. “But I still don´t trust you enough.”

“Just as I don´t trust you, but we can reach an agreement, my Lord.”

“Tell me more”

Willas smiled. Negotiation was always his forte, even when he was all burned down and full of desire of revenge. He will have convinced Lord Tarly by the end of the day. And next, he will be the link between the Targaryens and the loyal Lords of the Reach and Riverlands. If everything continues as it was, they would be ready for the Lannisters… when the time comes. Oh, he already wanted Stannis to act…

Chapter Text

It had taken some time and a lot of Targaryen gold that he received from his patrons, but he managed to convince Lord Randyll to go through with this. Now he was standing in front of a septon, in Horn Hill´s septry, as Lady Melessa, Dickon and the Tarly sisters sit… well, all but one. One that was entering the temple in that moment by the arm of her father. Lord Randyll looked serious, but also… was that happiness carefully contained in his eyes? Last time, his eldest daughter had married a Fossoway. It was a good match, in paper, but he ended up siding with Cersei Lannister and dying in King´s Landing. It left her widowed, fatherless and brotherless, practically dispossessed until she took the reigns of Horn´s Hill… only to lose it later to her recently legitimized nephew, Jon Tarly. He didn´t know more of her, but back then she had looked to him as quite the exceptional woman… and she deserved much better than someone that would do such an imbecilic thing.

Lord Tarly reached him in that moment, putting Talla´s hand over his and removing her hastily made maiden´s cloak. She looked at him shyly. They practically didn´t know each other except for a few balls that they coincided in before she was told that she was going to marry Lord Willas Tyrell. It probably came as a surprise to her, to find herself so suddenly betrothed and hastily married. So hastily that she could barely renew a dress in the Tarly colors for her marriage. Any girl would want a new dress for her marriage.

“Dearly beloved, we are here reunited…” the septon started with the ceremony as Lord Randyll passed the cloak to Lady Melessa, taking his place in the first row. “Lord Willas, you might cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.”

He extended the wedding cloak, the same one his father had given his mother when she had married him all those years ago in the Starry Sept itself. Lady Alerie had been radiant on it and Lady Talla was lovely too. Perhaps not as Alerie or Margaery, but lovely in her own right. And as smart as his sister, she had shown it in the future when she became the woman that impressed him from his exile.

“Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Crone, Maiden, Stranger” both of them said at the same time, looking at one another. “I am hers/his, and she/he is mine, from this day to the end of my days.”

“With this kiss I pledge my love”

"… and take you for my lord and husband"

"…and take you for my lady and wife" they kissed.

“With this I declare Willas of House Tyrell and Talla of House Tarly one flesh, one heart, one soul, now and forever” the septon declared. “Cursed be he who would seek to tear them asunder.”

Willas was happy. Now, his grandmother would have no way to marry him to that shrew Sansa Stark… now that he thought about the Bitch in the North, he heard she had been turned into the northern version of Cassandra Baratheon. It would serve her right, but he didn´t think that was enough to take her completely out of the board. In fact, in some way, being married would give her some sort of power… if there were going to be heirs of Stark Blood from her and only from her… or from her and none of her brothers… then she was going to gain her power back. And this time the Northern Lords wouldn´t be their allies, as they would prefer a direct descendant of Ned Stark to one from a grandchild of his sister. They have to build up their support.

“My Lord?” Talla asked, sat on the chair of honor as they shared the hasty made wedding banquet. It was no less exquisite because of that, proof of Lady Melessa´s ability as a hostess. “I… think I must thank you for… for considering me…”

“You don´t have to be like this, Lady Talla. I know that you want to know me more… and I want to know you better too. Perhaps after we have consummated the marriage, we could talk a bit about ourselves?”

“Sure, my lord” the bride´s mother said, smiling. Lord Randyl just focused on his food, not really interested in whatever the young couple or his wife were talking about. “Talla is very good with her embroidery, she can make beautiful favors and sew some of her own dresses…”

“And how about ridding a horse, my lady? My sister and I sporadically enjoy a ride through the lands that surround Highgarden. I would be very glad if my wife and my sister became great friends before she departs for marriage.”

“I hope the same, my lord” Talla answered.

“I´m sure Talla and Lady Margaery would quickly become great friends” Melessa continued, smiling at her daughter. It was obvious that she wanted that to possibly marry her other daughters as high as possible. “I have heard that the King is seeking too marry his new heir, Prince Tommen, to Lady Margaery. Is that true?”

“It´s been discussed, but nothing is set in stone yet” Willas answered, taking a sip of his wine to hide his smirk. His grandmother would not have all the details, but she definitely was not going to let Margaery marry a bastard of Cersei Lannister. Not knowing everything that was about to explode. “I think grandmother thinks that the King is expecting us to pardon a huge part of the Iron Throne´s debt in exchange for giving Margaery a crown.”

“A debtor must pay his debts” Lord Randyl finally said something.

“Yes, which is why grandmother is delaying this so much” not the actual reason, but he wasn´t going to let that juicy piece of information out yet. Not until the moment was right. “Besides, Margaery isn´t ready to marry yet, she needs to mature a bit more. Which returns me to Lady Talla…”

“Oh, our Talla is very proficient at horse riding. Her sisters and her were taught from an early age and their instructor said that she was a natural at the saddle. She even accompanied us on a few hunts and hawking excursions.”

“Of course, she is a Tarly” his new goodfather said again. Then added under his teeth… “If only she had been born a male… or if her older brother had a minimum of her talent…”

Ah, the infamous traitor Samwell Tarly. The supposed Grand Maester from the Raven´s council, the same one that had been Prince Lucerys´ closest friend when he was still on the Night´s Watch, the same one that practically owed his survival to him… and then hadn´t lifted a finger or his voice to save him or say something good about him when his cousins banished him to the Wall again. Such ingratitude… now that he thought about it, he had heard that Samwell had been saved from the Wall by Tyrion Lannister and sent to the Citadel. Perhaps to ACTUALLY become a maester this time… they will have to make sure to return him to where he rightfully belonged to as the traitor he was.

Anyway, this was not the time to be thinking about that pig, he thought as he and Talla were escorted to the wedding bed. His new wife was still shy, but he calmed her down and proposed that they talk a little bit first. He served them both some wine and started to tell her about his interests, both intellectual and in other fields. He was surprised to find out that the Tarly Lady was very accomplished in both hawking and riding, also being the proprietor of a gifted mind for economics. No wonders she had managed to keep everything together before her bastard nephew took everything away from her. A formidable woman indeed. He was so entertained by the conversation that he almost forgot what they were supposed to do.

“My Lord” Talla softly reminded him, interrupting their conversation. She probably still felt that they should wait, but her father must have instructed her to have this sealed by the time the night ended. “I think that…”

“Yes, me too”

As they did their duty, Willas felt lucky. He hadn´t married in his last life or had children, his burned body didn´t allow him to fulfil that kind of duty, but he also didn´t fell in love. And, while he and Talla didn´t love each other yet, he had the feeling that they could achieve that. It was more than most noble couples could say. It was indeed more than what his grandmother could say about the late Lord Luthor, who she had enticed into her bed for the sake of her own security. And talking about her…

“We are to return to Highgarden when the week is over” he announced Talla as he dressed himself for the morning, his wife still on the bed. “I know that this might sound intimidating, but remember that I will help in any way I can while…”

“You want me to impress Lady Olenna, no?” the new future Lady of Highgarden said, her face serious. “Don´t look at me like that, everyone in the Reach and beyond knows who the real head of House Tyrell is. And why you should be careful with her.”

“I will protect you…”

“Thank you, but this is also my burden to wear as your wife” she rose from the bed to get ready for the day. “I guess that I also have to make friends with Lady Margaery and Lady Leonette Fossoway… it wouldn´t be smart to make enemies out of my goodsisters when I already have to face the Queen of Thorns.”

“She is going to love you”

“I certainly doubt it, as I remember hearing that she wanted you to marry Sansa Stark…”

“Sansa Stark is a woman as bad as Cersei Lannister, I wouldn´t touch her even for all the gold under Casterly Rock. I prefer a woman that is smart, but also loyal… qualities neither that golden cunt nor that red haired skank doesn´t have.”

“Thank you, my Lord” she smiled back.

“Please, my Lady, call me Willas.” He asked, having seen many happy marriages in his past life and wanting that too. And those marriages were based on trust. “We are married, we should use more familiar names.”

“Only if you call me Talla”

“Very well, Talla.”

He was already convinced that he took the right choice. The interesting conversations they shared in their few days at Horn´s Hill and on their way to Highgarden cemented it. By the time he arrived at home, he was convinced that Talla was going to win over even the acidic Queen of Thorns… if she gave her a chance. For now, Lady Alerie received her new goodaughter with a smile. Willas left Talla with her, knowing that his mother would be soft with his wife on her first day at home. No, who he was more worried about was another person… he asked his mother where his grandmother was and went to face her first.

“That boy…” Olenna said as she went from one side of the room to another. She was in the Lord´s solar, which she used liberally since Mace spent more time in the kitchen than in that place. His grandson entered in that moment. “Willas!! You utter… what did you do?! You were supposed to marry Sansa Stark as soon as I got Lord Stark to accept it!!”

“She is already set to get married to Darren Hornwood”

“I could have made Lord Stark change his opinion on my next visit to King´s Landing. I already got the date, King Robert invited Mace and me to court to discuss Margaery´s possible betrothal to that little lion bastard, as if that is ever going to happen…”

“Lord Stark would have never changed his opinion”

“I know that he possible wants to keep her close to home if he knows what he went through with Joffrey, but I´m sure he still wants the best for his daughter.”

“I doubt so”

“If he is good at something, it´s being a parent.”

“I´m certain you are mistaken on that.”

“Willas, you are not getting…”

“Just what in the world did I do for you to hate me so much that you would betroth me to someone like that viper disguised as direwolf?” he raised an eyebrow, with so much venom that Olenna actually shup up. “Don’t be mistaken, grandmother, that´s what that woman is.”

“Willas, you did not know her. I know that you probably won´t believe me, but I have talked to her and made an assessment of her character. She is a naïve little girl…”

“That naïve little girl has just tried to poison her goodsister and probably her brother too” the old woman got completely speechless. Willas enjoyed the power he felt. He could be one of her favorite grandchildren, but he had never managed to shut her up. “And that´s not the first time she tried to murder someone. Back in the old life, she got a faceless man to murder Queen Daenerys Targaryen and her newborn daughter.”

“Willas, what… but you died in…”

“Surprise, grandmother, I survived” he continued. “In fact, I lived until I was old, despite the condition my body was in. I lived enough to see how our tale ends!! And that woman… that woman caused so much pain, grandmother. She was a monster. Left her subjects to die, killed a man she was raised with as a brother´s wife and daughter…”

“Oh, Willas” Olenna suddenly was embracing him. This was so… unlike her. Not that he hadn´t ever been consoled by his grandmother, this was just a weird way for her to show affection. “I´m sorry, I should have checked the facts before… why didn´t you tell me?”

“Would that have made a difference? You only think about growing stronger with your schemes…” he was being too emotional, he concluded. It had clouded his mind and made him show his hand before it was time… but at the same time he felt weirdly relieved. And it was nice to have a member of his family completely in the known, to have some support from them like in good old times.

“Willas, I ALWAYS consider your safety, even when I´m scheming something. It was the reason I got rid of Joffrey the first time, I needed to make sure Margaery was safe” she sighed. “Had I know that Sansa Stark had turned into such a…”

“She is Cersei Lannister reborn with a sprinkle of Littlefinger… or worse”

“Then she deserves to become the northern Cassandra Baratheon” the Queen of Thorns smiled. “My dear boy, I probably not say it enough, so I´m going to do it now. I´m proud of you, Willas. Much more now that I know that you managed to keep yourself alive despite everything you went through, despite being so alone… I´m proud, my boy” she held his hand. “Now, let´s work together now to keep this family alive.”

“Let´s” he said. He would still keep an eye on her, as he won´t cross the Targaryens, but he knew that they were allies in this. “Please, can you give Talla a chance too? She is a good girl and, most importantly, she is not her father.”

“So long as Lord Randyl doesn´t invites himself over until I am dead and gone” Lady Olenna sighed. “But tell me, how did you fare? Your long life, especially with the injuries you describe, speaks of wealth.”

“I was the master of Coin in the Targaryen´s small council. I was brought during Prince Lucerys´ regency, after the Queen´s murder, and kept during Emperor Rhaegar´s reign. I would have been for his daughter´s too, but my body began to fail quickly after I reached a certain age.”

“Well, you don´t get to my age without taking care of yourself, dear.”

The next few months were quiet, despite his and Olenna´s frequent scheming sessions. Garlan´s words, not his. His brother had taken to train with their new sword, making Lord Mace puff even more than usual about having a Valyrian Steel Sword in the family. His grandmother actually did as she promised and tried to know the new Talla Tyrell better. She ended up accepting that she was an acceptable match… and that her grandson could do much worse. And it quieted the Florents down a bit, to have one of their own, even she didn´t carry their last name, as future Lady of Highgarden. Margaery actually liked his wife, much better than she would ever the Bitch in the North. He never stopped exchanging secret correspondence with the Queen, Prince and Flames, but the next few months were quite quiet. And just when he was thinking that they were going to have a quiet year…

“Good morning, Willas, grandmama, Garlan. Where is Leonette? We had a… what happened?” Margaery asked when she saw the expressions they had in their faces. And the letter Willas was holding. “What is it? Is it regarding my betrothal to the Prince?”

“It´s the reason why you are not yet bethroted” her eldest brother answered.

“What?”

“Robert Baratheon is dead, he was poisoned a few weeks ago in King´s Landing. Prince Oberyn Martell was suspected to be the culprit, but he was cleared with a trial by combat.”

“And it gets better” Garlan added, taking the letter and handed it over. Margaery read quickly.

“To the Lords and Ladies of the Realm,
All men know me for the trueborn son of Steffon Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End, by his lady wife Cassana of House Estermont. I declare upon the honor of my House that my beloved brother Robert, our late king, left no trueborn issue of his body, the boy Joffrey, the boy Tommen, and the girl Myrcella being abominations born of incest between Cersei Lannister and her brother Jaime the Kingslayer. By right of birth and blood, I do this day lay claim to the Iron Throne of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. Let all true men declare their loyalty. Done in the Light of the Lord, under the sign and seal of Stannis of House Baratheon, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms.”

Well, here they go again.

-A few weeks earlier-

Oberyn had been so busy making sure Gerold Dayne didn´t do anything stupid in his first few weeks in King´s Landing that he hadn´t paid enough attention to other things. Namely, Cersei Lannister´s distaste for her husband. Because yes, he was sure that she was the one that put him in this position. Now he was confined in a room next to Lord Stark. It was ironic, the brothers of two women who called Rhaegar Targaryen their husband in the same situation… only that Stark´s nephew was still alive. He wished he was in his place so much… and he would have been a better uncle to Rhaenys or Aegon. Returning to Gerold Dayne, he shouldn´t have been paying him so much attention outside the Small Council. Daemon had him in hand… and Sarella by the balls. His daughter and new goodson seemed to be very close. When had that happened?

“Prince Oberyn, you have visits” the guard at his door talked before letting Sarella, Gerold and Daemon enter the room. They all seemed worried, and had reasons to be.

“Father, I´m so glad you are okay” she hugged him. She was the last of his daughters to come, Obara and the others have been there earlier. “That Viper Cersei Lannister… I´m sure she was the one that poisoned the Fat King…”

“Me too” he answered truthfully. He also guessed that he made a more convenient scapegoat than her brother this time… but he would still tiptoe around her if he were the Imp. “Look, I already told your sisters, so… there is going to be a trial in the morning. Tywin Lannister is going to preside it, so I´m sure it´s just going to be a mockery, so I´m going to end this fast. I´m asking a trial by combat.”

“Who is going to be your champion?” Gerold immediately asked.

“Are you offering yourself, goodson?” he didn´t answer. “Don´t worry, I wouldn´t have accepted your offering anyway. I´m sure you are good with a sword, but I will always fight for myself…”

“No” Sarella stated.

“Sarella…”

“No, father, you have to listen to me this time” his girl continued. “The Lannisters are probably counting on that and will put something on your meal to slow you down. You are not going to be capable to face the Mountain like that.”

“If it´s the Mountain who is representing House Lannister…”

“I´m not losing you again!!” she yelled, striking Oberyn shut. What… “Tomorrow you are going to ask for trial by combat and then naming Daemon your champion. And if you don´t, I AM going to take matters into hand, which you are not going to like.”

“I know Daemon is good with a…”

“Oh, you don´t know what he is capable of doing. And you aren´t aware of what I AM capable of doing. Those days are long gone” she smirked. Her father wanted to ask, but… “I am going to explain you later, but now you need to do what I tell you, please.”

Oberyn doubted, but something told him that he was better following his daughter´s plan, also that he wasn´t going to like what his daughter would do if he didn´t follow. He wanted to kill the Mountain, he really did… but he couldn´t do that to Ellaria again. Or his girls. So the next day, when the Trial was over and he took his sweet time being sassy with Tywin, wishing to wipe his bitch daughter´s smile from her face, he asked for trial by combat. And named Daemon Sand his champion. This seemed to throw the Lannisters a bit off.

The next day, the trial by combat took place. Just as Sarella said, Gregor Clegane was there. He was about to rescind Daemon´s services and fight for himself, but his daughter kept him in his place somehow. He wasn´t sure how, he just couldn´t… anyway, his former squire entered the ring now. He was wearing an armor he had never seen, but looked regal and… dark. On his back was a big sword… a zambato? The zambato was a yitish cavalry sword with a reputation of being able to cut both horse and horseman in combat, but…

“Stop moving like that, Daemon is going to kill him for you.”

“I know the reputation of zambatos, but can he wield one? I trained him to wield longswords and scimitars… also, the Mountain wears very thick armor.”

“Caraxes´ Grace is not any zambato” Gerold added, sitting next to his wife. “And Daemon is much better than you remember.”

The fight started in that moment. Oberyn was marveled by what he saw. Daemon had always been good with a blade and fast on his feet, but now he seemed to dance around the monster that killed his sister. And the most interesting thing was that… he hadn´t taken his sword out of it´s sheath. He was using small blades he carried in his hands. Where had they come from again? He wasn´t sure, but they were making a short work of the Mountain´s armor. The blades were thin enough to take advantage of the union and cut the belts securing it… he was a genius!! The Mountain wasn´t hurt yet, but he was already in disadvantage by the lack of armor… then he screamed and Oberyn put on a smile. Daemon had gone for the tendon this time. Clegane dropped to his knees, before howling again at another injury.

“I´m a dornishman, do you remember another one?” he seemed to have prepared a little theatre… “Elia Martell, Princess of Dorne, Elia Martell, Princess of Dorne, you raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children..”

What?!! But how could Daemon have know that he…

“You raped her. You murdered her. You killed her children!! And for that Dorne is not going to forgive you!! Or any of the implicated!!” he cut another tendon, rendering the arm Clegane was trying to us to wield his sword useless. “CONFESSS!!!”

“I´m… I´m going…”

“CONFESS!!!” he screamed again, opening a large slash on his back. Some Lady screamed, but Oberyn completely ignored it. He was hypnotized by this.

“Elia of Dorne.” Clegane finally started to talk, as “I killed her screaming whelp. Then I raped her. Then I smashed her fucking head in… like I was going to do to you…”

“With which hand?” Daemon mocked the fallen man. “Who ordered you?” another slash followed when Clegane didn´t answer. “WHO?!!”

“Ty… win…”

He just said the word when Daemon finally took out his sword. There were gasps in the public, the enormous weapon was totally made by Valyrian Steel. The Bastard of Godsgrace then brought it down and relieved the feared Mountain that Rides of his head with one strike. The head rolled a bit as the knight put the sword back in it´s place. He took it and walked to the stand where the Martells were. He kneeled right in front of Arianne and put the head at her feet. Of course, the lovesick boy would gift the head of HIS sworn enemy to his niece… well, at least he gave it to a Martell.

Cheers erupted in that moment from the smallfolk, who had suffered long at the hands of the Mountain and his men. It seemed like Daemon had just become the most popular man in King´s Landing. He directed at smirk at the Lannisters. Cersei looked livid and Tywin… he was going to wipe that unreadable expression soon. For now, he had to ask Arianne to give him her new gift. He already had a few ideas of what to go with it.

His smile only widened when Stannis letter arrived a few days later. This was going to be some interesting times, at least for him.

-In Volantis-

“Well, it seems like the waiting is over” Daenerys said as she handed her husband the letter that had just arrived. “Aurane sent it to us. Read it, my love.”

“To the Lords and Ladies of the Realm
All men know me for the trueborn son of Steffon Baratheon, Lord of Storm’s End, by his lady wife Cassana of House Estermont. I declare upon the honor of my House that my beloved brother Robert, our late king, left no trueborn issue of his body, the boy Joffrey, the boy Tommen, and the girl Myrcella being abominations born of incest between Cersei Lannister and her brother Jaime the Kingslayer. By right of birth and blood, I do this day lay claim to the Iron Throne of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros. Let all true men declare their loyalty. Done in the Light of the Lord, under the sign and seal of Stannis of House Baratheon, the First of His Name, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, and Lord of the Seven Kingdoms.”

The paper was lowered.

“Interesting times indeed” he smirked too. “I can wait to see them all tear each other into pieces… it´s going to be fun. And then…”

“Yes” she grabbed his hand. “This time we are going to win.”

Chapter Text

Eddard had been expecting this visit since he heard that Robert had died, but with the whole circus Cersei Lannister had staged, blaming Oberyn Martell for her own crime. Because he didn´t doubt that the Lioness had murdered his friend, just as she murdered him last time. And, while he could understand that she didn´t like being Robert´s wife, that didn´t mean that she had to kill him. He knew that she had done that, just as he knew that she at least suspected him from knowing… why hadn´t she thrown the fault at him instead of Oberyn Martell? The worst was that Stannis Baratheon hadn´t waited like someone smart would and immediately declared himself King. Renly also disappeared from the Capitol, probably to Highgarden with his squire, while young Tommen Waters was going to sit on the Iron Throne… and Robb would be forced to serve the Lannister bastard in war. Only because his father was so focused on his honor, enough to get trapped in this situation.

Returning to the present, he was sitting on his desk while Tywin and Kevan Lannister stood in front of him, looking directly at their captive with unreadable looks. Eddard sighed, leaving the book he was reading to the side. His investigation on economics wasn´t going very well anyway.

“I should thank you for letting me visit the Sept to say goodbye to Robert” he said before they could say something else. “Despite our recent disagreements, we were once brothers in all but blood. I wanted to give my respects before he was buried in the Great Sept… if he was interred in the Great Sept?”

“He was taken to Storm´s End by Lord Renly, per his request” ah, so there was where he was going… and probably to Highgarden after that. “His grace the late King often expressed that he would loathe to be put to rest among the Targaryen Kings… something that your nephew and his new wife probably dream about.”

“I´m sure that is not something that Lucerys dreams about very often, at least not for a long time” it was true. Last time, his nephew had lived until he became an old man with several grandchildren. Surely they want to beat that this time. “But you aren´t here to talk about my nephew´s dreams, no?”

“No” the Old Lion continued with that expression. “but I came to ask you about him and his wife. Especially considering that both of us know that they killed my grandson with that strange Valyrian poison of them.”

“We are still not sure if he was the one that put the Wyrm´s Blood crystal on the bottom of the cup of Prince Joffrey. And with so many murders from the Faceless Men, is not beyond believe that the deceased Crown Prince was also offed by them.”

“A murder that was possible paid by your nephew or the Princess.”

“Jon is of the North, he isn´t someone that would solicitate a murder. If he wanted to kill someone, he would do it himself” Ned said, earning a gleam of interest from both Lannister Lords. “Besides, he has a dragon. A dragon that could have been used to off us all if he wanted to reclaim the throne for him or his wife.”

“Perhaps he is only waiting, I heard that Princess Daenerys has three growing dragons that are about to become adults” Tywin smirked. “We are already taking precautions, including scorpions. And King Tommen is calling his banners too. The Targaryens are going to have a surprise if they think that their conquest is going to be as easy as the last one.”

“And I wouldn´t count Jon down just yet.”

“It´s interesting, how you keep calling him that. Jon… the name you used to replace the original one… perhaps some hint that you still consider him a part of your family, maybe even a son of yours?” Eddard wasn´t sure what it meant. “If a nephew of mine had caused so much troubles, I would have disposed of him already. Then again, I´m sure that I never would have saved him in the first time, no matter how much my sister begged me.”

“Then I guess Lyanna was lucky to have me as a brother and not you, Lord Tywin… and that Lady Frey was never in my sister´s place.”

“Genna has always been smart, even as a young girl. She wouldn´t have committed the stupidity, or the madness to run away with someone. And maybe that precise is the reason why she is here and your stupid sister is not.” He continued. “But we are not here to discuss our sisters. Your nephew, on the other side… is there a possibility that he is not guilty of regicide?”

“I don´t think he would have bothered, at least not now” he felt a little bit of satisfaction because of that. “That boy… he is very different from the one that I raised, but I think he would have waited a bit more to kill Robert, if only to have the satisfaction to kill the man that murdered his father…” he sighed. “On the other side, there is no way he is not enjoying what is happening here.”

“Enjoying the death of King Robert?”

“Yes… and not exactly” he answered truthfully. “We are on the brink of war amongst us, Lord Tywin, with Lord Stannis about to attack and Lord Renly probably about to do the same with some help from the Reach or the Stormlands. The dornish have been insulted by you yet again and the Vale isn´t going to help you. Not when Lord Royce is in charge.”

“Sounds like the death of the King in such suspicious circumstances only helped the Targaryens.”

“No, Lord Tywin, they are suspicious circumstances that are only going to make the Seven Kingdoms explode like a barrel of wildfire… and he is only going to have to lay back and watch us fight to the death among ourselves.”

“Even you?”

“Even me” Ned said, sure of what he was saying. “Or not precisely me, because your plan is making Robb fight your war while I stay here, making sure that he doesn´t disobey you… all the while Lucerys laughs out loud at my misery and our stupidity at ripping each other into shreds. And believe me, he is laughing right at this moment.”

“You are not as stupid as I thought you were” Tywin suddenly admitted.

“And you are as much of a heartless bastard as I thought you were.”

“I might be, but in the end of the day, whose legacy is going to stand, Lord Stark?” the Lion Lord raised an eyebrow. “With only one decision made by a bleeding heart, you managed to nearly bring ruin to your family´s legacy. What kind of legacy you are going to leave your descendants now? Your daughter could have been Queen, and now she is going to have to settle for some minor northern lord.”

“Perhaps that´s what´s best… for everyone” Eddard silently wished that Tywin had realized that before he married Cersei to Robert. Vipers like the Queen and the woman his daughter had become should never be put in positions of power.

“Have you never thought of your future? Of your daughter´s future and what it could bring you? The power?”

“I prefer to have my family close” … and not a dagger on his back, but he refused to say that to Tywin Lannister. He had, after all, turned all of his children into sharp daggers that were only waiting to bury themselves on his or anyone that was on their ways´ backs. Well, all of them but Ser Jamie, who still had some sense of morality. Surprisingly. “Anything else.”

“Yes” the Lion Lord got up. “I want you to send your boy a letter, telling him that you are fine and that he must call his banners and reunite with us to protect the capital and the rightful King, Tommen Baratheon. He must send a raven as soon as he is in Riverrun and on the way here.”

“The Army of the West would arrive first, the one of the Riverlands and the Reach probably too”

“We know, but I doubt that Stannis is going to disappear after only one battle” the Old Lion crossed his arms. “Not after everything he has done, the lies he had spread about my daughter and his Queen, with aims to get the Throne.” He turned around. “Write your letter, Lord Stark, I will make sure it is sent.”

Eddard sighed as the Lannisters left his room. Just who the Lannisters thought he was? He wasn´t a young, terrified girl all alone like Sansa had been when Cersei forced her to write to her brother. But then he didn´t have time to do much. Barely after the Lannisters left the room, a page entered through somewhere. Must be one of the secret passages that Arya told him about, the ones build by order of Maegor Targaryen.

“Out this on” Arya, because he was sure it was Arya, threw a bundle of clothing his way. “We are leaving.”

“What?! But…”

“Shhh, keep quiet” his daughter instructed. The girl quickly packed some things, small things like money and other things that could help them on their way to the North. “There is a ship that is departing for White Harbor right this moment. We are going to be on it and getting the North out of this damn war.”

“One would think that you would want to stay here and kill Cersei.”

“I would, but the War of the Five Kings depleted the North´s power, a power we are going to need so can fight the Long Night” the girl started to push him towards the entrance of the tunnel. “I will have the opportunity to kill her later.”

“Arya…”

“Let´s go”

Eddard did so. He knew that he had to do so, to escape from the Lannisters that would do whatever to keep their clutches on the Iron Throne… and he couldn´t trust Stannis or Renly to do what was right for the people, as neither of them had what it takes to be a king. After all, he knew what Stannis had done to his own brother and daughter for his birthright, and Renly was just incompetent. Loras Tyrell might believe that a King only needed to be charming and shiny, but they all know that wasn´t the case. Thinking about the Tyrell boy made his thoughts wander to the Reach again. What were they going to do when the Roses threw their lot with Renly again?

“Remember” Arya suddenly gained his attention again, as they were nearing the end of the tunnel. “We are smallfolk, so try to wander a little less like a mighty lord and lower your head. The Lannisters need to remain oblivious to our escape for a few more hours for this to work. And if you have to talk to me, call me Arry.”

“Alright”

They walked through the streets of King´s Landing, Lord Eddard keeping his head down and trying to pass as smallfolk. Surprisingly, or perhaps unsurprisingly, his daughter had chosen the best way to reach the piers without catching attention. She passed him a bag of coins and he paid the captain for passage. They settled down on the cabin, but Arya didn´t lose her focus, or her training. She sat down on the entrance of the room, a dagger in her hand and her sword not leaving her belt.

“Arya…”

“I´m still Arry, father, don´t call me anything else” she looked around. “And we are in luck, we managed to avoid the blockade Stannis put up to prevent supplies from entering to the city before he attacked it.”

“He won´t be preventing anything if the Lannisters manage to get the Tyrells to support them instead of Renly… which they could do. After all, they could put a crown on their little Rose´s head.”

“I don´t think it´s going to be that simple” his daughter smirked. “I have been keeping track of everything going on the Reach for a while and I´m sure that there is someone there that knows the future. They aren´t going to throw their lot with the Lannisters or the Baratheons again… just like we aren´t going to.”

“Who?”

“I would suspect that it´s old Olenna, but there could be someone else… I heard once that the Black Ghost of the Fourteen Flames was a reachman, but I never could be sure of anything with him… except that he was very good at finances and always wore black under that ugly mask of his. As if he was in perpetual mourning.”

“Maybe he was, many people lost everything to the War of the Five Kings” Ned sighed, then realized something. “Arya, was it you that murdered King Robert? Or was it Lucerys?”

“Please, I wouldn´t have been as sloppy as that. If I had wanted the old, fat king eliminated with poison, tracing the crime directly to me wouldn´t have been that obvious. The same for Jon… no, he would not have killed him with poison. It was too fast, he would have wanted to enjoy it to it´s fullest” she shook her head. “It was Cersei”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive, like that she got the poison from Pycelle. The Strangler.”

“So she did it… like last time” he looked into the wall, as if it showed the distance. “What is going to happen now, Arya?”

“We will all sit back and watch the Lannisters and the Baratheons tear at each other to our heart´s content. At the same time, we are going to prepare for the Long Night, trying to get a few crops more before it and gather everything we need to fight the Others. After all, they are the only enemy we need to concern ourselves with… at least until the Targaryens decide to invade.”

Eddard lowered his head again. The Targaryens… Lucerys between them. He would have wondered what he had done to deserve Jon´s hate, but he already had the answer. He only wished that there was some way to fix this, some magic formula that helped him to turn back time and explain himself to the boy, explain that he didn´t want to hurt him and sending him to the Watch was for his own good… that he was sorry for never considering his feelings on the matter. He should have considered them. But, then again, that looked so much like the only option… and he seemed so eager… he only wished that there was some way to fix this still…

-In Evenstar Hall-

Gendry was surprised when he returned to his forge and found it occupied by someone else, much more when this person turned around and he recognized the face even under the hood he was wearing. The face of his rival in his old life, Armax Hoat. They stared at each other for a moment before the former pleasure slave sighed, motioning for him to come closer. Then Gendry noticed that there were two boxes that weren´t there before.

“Took you long to return, Baratheon”

“I´m Waters now”

“You will always be Baratheon to me. And face it, you have a lot of them in you, especially their idiocy” he shook his head. “Believe it or not, I´m not here to fight.”

“As you said, I highly doubt it” Gendry went to a table and poured some water for himself. “Are your owners aware that you are here?”

“Yes… and surprisingly they did agree to me coming here to give you this gift, despite everything you have done. After all, the Long Night IS coming and if we let Westeros completely fall… I doubt the White Walkers could be stopped if we let them take over this whole continent, no matter what sea separates us. They neither.”

“I´m glad to hear that the Targaryens haven´t completely lost sense. So?”

“So… I managed to convince them to give you some help” he patted the boxes. “I made it myself, with some help from Prince Lucerys. Who, by the way, hoped that half of Westeros runs through the other half with them or tear their throats off… while his wife muttered that they better don´t so she could burn them herself.”

“Would anything really help us against the Walkers?”

“This would… but, again, it´s no enemy for dragons”

“And you are giving us so much help because…”

“Maybe I´m only being nostalgic and want to compete with you again” he made a dramatic gesture. “Or perhaps I have been overwhelmed with the work of preparing our own armies for the Long Night and preparing everything they need, so I´m asking the only other competent smith I know for a hand on this side of the conflict… not that I think that any of this would signify something, you need more than this to defeat them… or us.”

“Didn´t you want us to defeat the Walkers for you?”

“No, we only need you to be a useful shield for us for a while, not just cannon fodder and future soldiers for their army. And if you can cull their population a little bit…” he shrugged. “Anyway, I did what I needed to do. I will be going now before your patron finds out I was here in the first place. Good luck and remember that if a Walker doesn´t kill you, a dragon will. Choose well who is going to do.”

“You certainly are a darling, Armax.”

“I try. See your creations later, Baratheon, to show you how it´s really done.”

“As if you could”

Gendry saw him leave, probably back to Volantis to arm his Queen´s army of Unsullied and Dothraki with his works. Works that they could use during the Long Night… so Valyrian Steel must be involved. Just out of curiosity, he opened one of the boxes and let out a surprised gasp when he saw the characteristic gleam of Valyrian Steel, ready to be remodeled. He took a few steps back. The same cursed material he had sacrificed it all to make, even his own humanity… the screams of that child and his own returned to his mind as he remembered the prize he paid… he wanted to scream… but at the same time… with a sigh, he started the forge and made the same familiar process he had done many times before in his former life. And in this one.

It reminded for a moment of his bull helm, the one he had made for himself when he was still truly an apprentice of Tobho Mott. He hadn´t forged it in this life… he wondered why. Perhaps he already identified himself more with the stag than with the bull? As Armax had said, he was a Baratheon if not in name, in blood. And he will burn for it, if not for his sins.

Work was done sooner than he thought, as his body´s inexperience should slow him down. He found that not, but he guessed that he had the Smith to thank for that. Finally, the first one of his new creations was finished… also one that he had made in his old life. Clash, the Valyrian Steel Warhammer of House Baratheon. It had been his signature weapon until Boros had taken it and rode to his doom. Like Armax said, Valyrian Steel couldn´t protect you against a fully grown dragon. It certainly didn´t protect his son. He cried a bit over it, remembering the hopelessness of those times and the hopelessness when the Long Night finally arrived again to devour what was left… it couldn´t happen again.

He got back to work.

-A few weeks later-

“Lord Selwyn?” one of the servants interrupted his thoughts. Selwyn had been very worried since Stannis Baratheon declared himself King. After all, his daughter was married to the man he was naming Queen Cersei´s lover and thus a traitor. And if Jaime Lannister was executed as a traitor… what was going to happen to Brienne? To Jocelyn?

“Yes, what is it?” he could only ask that it was not more bad news.

“Gendry sent this”

The lad showed the Lord a sword, probably newly made. What was this? He hadn´t ordered a new sword. Even though, he had to admit that it was really a beautiful thing, a true work of art. A bit annoyed, he walked up to it and unsheated the thing. Whatever he was going to say next died in his throat, as he, for a moment, believed that he was holding the Just Maid itself. But no, it was only a Valyrian Steel sword, something a small lordship like Tarth had never had in it´s history, or at least since Ser Galladon died.

“My… My Lord…”

“Tell Gendry he has my thanks… and that we will strive to make the name of the Sapphire Maid known.”

-In Casterly Rock-

“Did you say that Gendry sent this?” Brienne asked as a sword was shown to her and her husband. She and Jaime looked at each other before taking the weapons and unsheating the blade. It nearly brought tears to her. Oathkeeper, it was her Oathkeeper. “I didn´t think I would ever hold her again… what do you think, husband?”

“I think that Gendry outdid himself this time” he answered, looking at his own sword. The golden lion pommel was truly magnificent, as was the blade. His father was going to be very impressive when he saw it. And pleased. Everyone knew that he had been trying to replace the Valyrian Steel weapon that his ancestor lost for a time. “Brightroar has returned to House Lannister at last.”

“Are you truly naming you as it?”

“I doubt my father would allow any other name… and I think it fits. After all, it will help to bring the light back into the world once everything settles down” the heir to Casterly Rock said, very serious. “I will wet this with the blood of Stannis Baratheon, I promise you that.”

“Please, don´t allow yourself to die, Jaime. Not when we are going to need you so soon, to face what is to come.”

“I won´t. I will be there to combat the Long Night by your side.”

-At the Vale-

Jon Royce was really confused. He didn´t even know who this Gendry was, much less he expected to receive a new sword from him. Even less when he realized what kind of weapon it was. He looked at Andar and Robar, as if asking if they knew who had done something like that for them. And for the little Lord Arryn, who couldn´t even lift the sword, but also got one. As if Valyrian Steel wasn´t rare enough.

“My Lord, why don´t you show your cousin Harry the sword?” he asked Lord Robert, who happily went to rub his new sword in the face of his cousin. Falcon´s Moon, he already called it.

“Well, this was strange to say the least” Bronze Yohn said, rubbing his forehead, then looking at his children. “I feel afraid and more than a little bit stupid for asking, but did any of you or your sisters wasted a fortune on a Valyrian Steel sword?”

“No” both answered.

“Thought so” he eyed the sword again. “Does… one want to try it? Or name it?”

“ME!!!” both his sons demanded loudly.

Boys. They were worst than children when it came to new swords. In the end, the new sword of House Royce was named Runic Crown and hanged in a place of honor in their hall. Little Lord Royce knew that he was going to need it much, to fight an Enemy that wasn´t human at all. For now, he only wanted to know who this mysterious smith called Gendry that gifted him such a sword was. He had a place for such a talent after all.

-In Riverrun-

When Brynden heard the name Gendry, he was sure that the former Lord of Storm´s End had sent him a Valyrian Steel Sword. Many had whispered behind his back about his background and his ignorance, but no one could ever say something about his creations from metal except that they were true works of art. In fact, people had curried favor with the lowborn Lord Baratheon to gain one of his creations for themselves, specially when he begin producing Valyrian Steel ones. Then again, he never guessed that he would give him something like this. Like…

“Uncle, what did you do?” Edmure asked, eyeing in fear the blade that Brynden was holding. After all, he had gotten more conscious of money since getting a wife and children to boot, a change that his uncle welcomed. “How much did that cost?”

“Not much, I found it” his nephew didn´t seem convinced. The old knight examined the pommel, which was the leaping fish of House Tully, but instead in silver, the trout was made of black dragonglass. It gave him an idea. “What do you think of House Tully´s new Valyrian Steel Sword? It´s called Blackfish.”

“Truly? Is it truly going to pass onto the Tully lordly line?”

“Yes, who else could inherit it?” Brynden assured. He, after all, had no intentions to marry and sire children. “To make generation after generation remember me.”

“When I have another son, I´m going to call him Brynden” Edmure quickly said.

“Better not, I don´t want a son of yours getting some ideas.”

-On the Wall-

Benjen was in awe. Nearly never visitors from anywhere arrived at the Wall, much less carrying such treasures. Tressures to be given to a man of the Watch just like himself. But here it was, his very own Valyrian Steel sword with a pommel in the shape of a wolf, made by dragonglass. And along with it came practically an entire armory. Arrow tips, daggers… all made of dragonglass.

“Why dragonglass?” Jeor asked, raising an eyebrow. They hadn´t crossed the Wall for a time, even before the wildlings suddenly disappeared. Benjen didn´t know why, but… something his nephew had said about some threat beyond the Wall that they weren´t ready to handle didn´t sit well with him. Lyanna´s boy seemed serious when he said that. And he couldn´t shake the feeling that this were the preparations he was talking about.

“I don´t know, but I think we are ready”

“For what?”

“For the Great Range” the Stark sheated his sword again. “Let´s go beyond the Wall, to find out what happened with the wildlings and why their latest movements were so suspicious.”

-In Deepwood Motte-

Galbart had heard that Halys Hornwood got one of this from Larence when he left to become a man of House Targaryen and marry a dragonseed, but the last thing he thought was that he would find himself in the same situation as him. But here he was, staring at a sword that was practically the dream of every lord. The silver fist of House Glover was the pommel, but that was where the normal things about it ended. The blade was Valyrian Steel, sharp and ready to be used on the enemy… which could be soon, as war was said to be near.

“And… can I use it for practice today?” little Gawen asked his uncle with dreamy eyes. This returned Galbart to the present.

“No, you are not going to use it until you are much older.” He answered with a serious expression. “When you are much more trained.”

“But… but it´s Larence´s gift!! And he was my friend!!”

“He also wouldn´t be happy if you kill yourself with it” he said sternly. “No, your father or I are going to be the only ones to use it until you are a man of age. And then, only when you get enough training to do so.”

“You are mean”

Better mean than dead, Galbart thought. But he shared Gawen´s awe at the sword and wanted to use it already. Then again, he would only use it when situation demanded it. If they entered the war against Stannis… he almost desired it.

Chapter Text

Robb released a sigh of relief when Arya arrived in Winterfell with their father on tow, a Manderly armed escort around them. Lord Eddard seemed to shrink on himself at the judging looks that his eldest son was giving him now. And it was just that… how could he commit such horrible mistakes? Winterfell was in a terrible financial situation and the northern lords could revolt, specially if there was indeed a famine, if they were to raise their taxes. Right now, the Boltons would be the last of their problems. Besides, the war of the Five Kings had officially started. But Robb would be more surprised if it was the War of the Four Kings now, with the North staying out of the fight and House Targaryen bidding their time. Talking about the two Targaryen heirs in Volantis…

“I´m glad you returned safely with father” Robb said as he served himself more Northern ale, the only thing they had to drink now that their stores of wine were low and being kept for other purposes. “Now I can focus on my plan while he returns to his post as Lord of Winterfell and rules it.”

“You are saying that as if I don´t know how to rule my own lands, even if I have been doing so since you were a babe.” Eddard said. He also had his own goblet of ale, which he hadn´t touched.

“Well, father, my faith in you will have to be restored after so many mistakes” the redheaded Stark sent him a glare. “Specially the one concerning Jon and the economic disaster mother created for the North… I have been struggling with the financial crisis you left us in. It would have been manageable if you had merely used Jon´s inheritance to buy food and maintain him, but it´s become a huge debt ever since. A debt the Iron Bank is enforcing because they have interests in House Targaryen´s business.”

“Robb…”

“And that´s just the tip of the iceberg, because the financial crisis has political implications apart from a potential to produce both rebellion and famine” he sighed as he finished to summarize their problem. “Just before the Long Night, might I add.”

“Robb, I´m sorry I made such a big problem for you…”

“Big problem? The Lords are severely discontent. If we raise their taxes in such an occasion, then we are going to end up with their daggers at our necks. And not only Bolton daggers” he crossed his arms. “The food is algo going to be a problem, as the Winter is going to be long and harsh and full of battle. We will have to import food from Essos, probably, but we can´t if we are in debt and enemies of House Targaryen.”

“Robb, are you not saying that…”

“Which is why I´m going to take a trip to Volantis” he said, much to Arya´s consternation and his father´s shock. “To ask Jon… Lucerys for some mercy. Make him see that making us pay the debt now would be a mistake. He will still recover the money, just… to give us some time, at least while we are preparing for the Long Night. He used to be a brother of the Night´s Watch, he surely is going to understand…”

“Robb, Lucerys hates the Starks.” Arya told him.

“No, he hates you, Sansa and Bran for everything you did to him. Or are you going to deny that you earned his enmity by murdering his wife and daughter?” the assassin didn´t answer. “He had a soft spot for Rickon last time I saw.”

“It might be because he failed to save Rickon during the Bolton Rebellion.”

“Or perhaps because he is a child and didn´t do anything to him to warrant his wrath”

“And what about what happened during uncle Edmure´s wedding? Did he do something to warrant his wrath?” perhaps. Edmure had believed Catelyn about Jon´s character without knowing him, so he maybe had done something to anger the Prince of Volantis without them knowing. He had certainly said more than enough about the Bastard of Winterfell for that. “Robb, I know it´s hard to believe, but you don´t know him anymore. Jon… he is not Jon anymore, brother. And you don´t know how cruel Lucerys can be.”

“Do you think I don´t know?” Robb glared at her. “The Jon I knew all my life, that grew up alongside me and loved all of us over anything, would have never done something like setting the North up for financial collapse or rebellion. But I refuse to believe that nothing of the Jon I loved remain in…”

“Robb, perhaps you haven´t noticed, but you have been dead for a long time, longer than any of us except for father. You don´t know any of us anymore” brother and sister glared at each other. “Lucerys is aiming to ruin us, whatever love we used to have for each other wilted to nothing in his heart.”

“Maybe for you” he countered. “And you know, Arya, I wouldn´t blame him if he doesn´t consider you his little sister anymore. Didn´t you kill his wife and daughter, sister?” she looked as if she had been hit in the face. “Who would love the murderer of his loved ones?”

Arya got up from her seat, letting the chair fall to the floor, making a great sound as she dramatically stormed out of the room. Robb sighed, there went everybody´s (cough cough his mother´s cough) hopes of her ever getting married. Not that any man would live for long if he ever ask for her hand in marriage… she would sooner slit their throats than actually getting married. Then again, even their mother had more hope of Sansa getting married, so she had always focused on her.

“You didn´t need to be so hard on her” Robb actually glared at his father for that. If only he had been harder… no only been there… or actually taught them something useful for the world they currently live on… “Robb, I´m sure you are under a lot of pressure, but you don´t have to unleash all of that on Arya…”

“I´m not, I´m only trying to make her see that Jon is not the only one that destroyed our relationship with his side of the family. Then again, we the young ones are not the only ones at fault. Or not, father?” Eddard remained silent. “You should have told him”

“What would that changed?” his father raised an eyebrow. “Robb, he could have told anyone, or someone could have found out and he would have gotten killed…”

“Please, father, that wasn´t the only reason. And you know it” he pushed some papers away. “On another note, I´m planning on leaving the North soon.”

“What?! Where…”

“To visit Jon in his new home, in Volantis” Ned opened his mouth to counter, but Robb glared at him again. “And, while I´m away, maester Luwin, Ser Rodrik and Lord Manderly will be there to approve your decisions. I trust them. I have talked with Alys too, to help you with whatever matter involving the household you need help with…”

“What about your mother? I doubt Catelyn would want to surrender her power as Lady Stark yet, especially considering that the current one is still alive.” his father continued with his attitude. “Besides, why would I need to seek the approval of my advisors? I have always taken their counsels into consideration, but always took the ultimate decisions…”

“Yes, that…” Robb´s eye threatened to tremble. “You will know after the Lords arrive for the Harvest Festival. But I will give you an advance, just so you are warned” he joined his hands over the desk. “You, father, and mother have just sunk the North into a blackhole known as debt, on the brink of an abys called financial bankruptcy. We had to raise taxes when Winter is so close and the Lords are unhappy, the smallfolk aren´t happy and I HAD to deal with that. You lost any respect the Lords of the North had for you and for this House, respect I have been struggling to recover… but that doesn´t mean that there wasn´t a price to be paid. The loss of your power to make decisions without mine or one of my advisor´s authorization is part of that price.”

“I´m Lord Stark…”

“And you made one of the bigger messes since Bran the Burner burned down the Northern Fleet, only managing your nephew´s inheritance in such a horrible way” the son kept trying to make him understand. “Now, we owe House Targaryen and the Iron Bank thousands of gold dragons that we don´t have and are going to need for the Winter and, worse, the Long Night. Do you understand how deep the hole you dig our entire Kingdom in now is?” his father seemed to finally shut up. “Go to mother now, she might need you these days. She is not taking it well that Alys has taken over her duties.”

The Stark heir… or might he call himself Lord Stark now? Because he was taking over the duties of the Lord of the North despite of his father still being alive… wanted nothing more than to get drunk on a good wine. Why? Why had he wished for his family back? It was just that… this was not how it was supposed to be. Not how he… remembered it. His father was supposed to be this wise, honorable man that always had the answer to the problems. His mother… he already knew she could pose a problem, but she had never done something as big as that. And his siblings… they were supposed to be happy. His family was supposed to be a happy one. Jon was supposed to be by his side, supporting him, and Sansa wasn´t supposed to be a scheming bitch set into getting a crown for herself. And Arya… and Bran… sometimes he felt he was surrounded by enemies, as if he was in the Twins and not Winterfell, with barely a few he could trust, despite being in his own home.

“It wasn´t supposed to be like this.” He groaned to himself. The door creaked in that moment as he straightens himself up. Theon showed up in that moment. Another thing he needed to address before it turned into a problem. “Go away, Theon, I don´t have time for one of your indecent propositions right now.”

“I wasn´t going to offer one to the mas… to Lord Robb” it was an advance. Theon had stopped calling him master to call him Lord Robb, still with respect. It was after much fight, and he had to open the can of worms that was Ramsay, but it had brought him a bit of relief to hear it. The bad part was that little apart from that had changed and his former friend still tried to please the Stark in the way Ramsay forced him to please him. “Unless you want to.”

“No”

“Bit of wine?”

“We don´t have more, and don´t dare to suggest we buy some, we don´t have the money to do so” he groaned. “In fact, I wanted to ask you something. I need to leave the North for a while after the Harvest Festival, but I need to keep it a secret too, to maintain our neutrality in the War. Can you get me a ship for Essos?”

“I think so, but you will need to be more specific about the destination though”

“Volantis” the Ironborn opened his mouth to tell him something. “Don´t. I don´t need to hear about how much of a horrible idea it is to walk into the dragon´s lair, especially because there are going to be literal dragons there…”

“No, I think that if you are going to visit Jon, this is a good opportunity to do so” his eyes went down. “Especially with what is happening right now in Essos… yes, I think he might have already unleashed his anger on someone and would be less inclined to murder Starks on sight.”

“Happenings in Essos? Theon, what have you heard?” the other boy squirmed dubitatively. That would be good… if only it wasn´t on his way to the truth. “Theon, please. You know that I love Jon like a brother, no matter what he thinks of us. What have you heard? And where?” he didn´t seem convinced. “I´m going to allow you to sleep in the cabin in the ship that I´m going to occupy too” not that he had much of a choice there. “Alright?”

“The tavern… I go there from time to time… to try and find pieces of Theon” he boy finally said. “I heard from some merchants that the Kingdom of the Three Whores, or the Triarchy, was reformed as a response to House Targaryen taking over Volantis. They attacked some time ago and… let´s just say that Jon and his wife weren´t Jacaerys Velaryon.”

“No? Then…”

“Daemon Targaryen would have been proud of them, from what I heard. The Free cities surrendered after a few days of the dragons raining fire over them and the Unsullied and knights…” Robb looked at him in disbelieve, that didn´t sound at all like the Jon he knew. Then again, Jon wasn´t Lucerys Targaryen. And he didn´t know his cousin at all. “The slaves have been freed there too, which has caused an uprising in the other slaver cities too. There are revolts everywhere…”

“Theon, you don´t understand, I need to speak to Jon… Lucerys, it´s…”

“You are going to be able to speak to him, he and his wife. They must be back at home by now or so I think” he sighed. “Anyway, before you think about them, you should focus on the problems you have here. You know you aren´t going to be able to leave until… there is someone that must take the fall for what happened.”

“I´m very aware of that”

The next few days, Robb tried to spend the next few days with his family, as much as he could. He tried to ignore the ways Arya coldly looked around, Sansa smiled in a way that didn´t reach her eyes and seemed to lie every time she opened her mouth and Bran acted like an emotionless doll. He enjoyed his parents, though, and more than once asked for forgiveness for what he was about to do. But then he reminded himself that someone had to take the fall and they couldn´t allow it to be the Starks… at least not all of them. So forgive him for doing this, but it must be done for the good of the family.

The day of the Harvest Feast, he tried to keep his composure. He had already talked to his parents about it, and while Eddard had opposed and Catelyn seemed horrified of it, they had ended up accepting that this was something that needed to be done. Specially because she was the one that put them in the awful situation they were now in. and the Lords of the North had never completely accepted her. Not since she had her Sept build in the heart of the North and her children raised in a more southern way than any Stark heir. She still did her duty as Lady Stark during the Festival, to the end.

“I thank you, my Lords, for attending despite the hard times that are coming our way and the problems we yet have to solve” he said, very seriously. He knew that the Lords weren´t happy with the raised taxes and the debt they still carried… something his cousin had made sure was known to everyone… but he was sure he could fix it. He just need to pacify them now. “I know that you all would have wanted to stay in your own lands to take care of important business and the preparations for winter…”

“Yes, yes” the GreatJon said, practically glaring at the Starks. “But what about our gold, boy?”

“I was getting to that”

“You better do” there were some whispers of agreement between the other Lords. “After all, we are all suffering because your southern mother decided to serve herself of dragon´s gold with hands full. Without a care for what could happen!!”

“I´m aware, which is why both my father and I have decided to do something about it. This kind of behavior that recklessly puts the North in danger should be tolerated, so punishment is in order” he felt so guilty about what he was going to do, but there was no other choice. “Lady Catelyn Stark will return to Riverrun immediately after the festival is done, where she is going to remain, without setting a foot in the North again without permission. Her duties as Lady of Winterfell are to be fulfilled from now on by my wife, Lady Alys Stark.”

There was a nod of approbation from all the Lords gathered around and even a few cheers. He nearly sighed. Robb knew that his mother wasn´t as beloved as her predecessors, but he didn´t know there was so much discontent with her from the Lords. Perhaps that was why his father had chosen a northern bride for him instead of the southern one that his mother always wanted.

“As for the War that is going on in the South, we are to remain neutral…”

“What?! I thought we would fight for King Renly!!”

“Renly couldn´t be King before Stannis, even if what the Baratheons said about the royal children is truth” lord Glover said, shaking his head. “Though neither of them particularly appeal to me. And while Renly is said to have the support of the Tyrels, nothing has been confirmed.”

“What is there to confirm? Renly probably is getting married to the Golden Rose right now…”

“He can´t be king before Stannis…”

“From what I have heard of Stannis”

“The Ironborn raids have been incrementing too” Dacey Mormont said. “The captured ones said that Balon has crowned himself king and send the Iron Fleet to reave.”

“Just what we needed”

“And that´s why, my Lords, we need to keep neutrality” other than participating that war would lead the North to a horrible disaster, even if they weren´t in a debt. “This war spells danger to anyone that enters it, us more than the south. The maesters say that this is going to be the longest winter in generations” the Long Night, he kept repeating in his mind. “And the North has always suffered more from…”

“Would you make us appear craven just to survive another winter, boy? Northerners are hard, we can…”

“No, Glover, the boy has a point” surprisingly, it was the Greatjon that spoke. “How do we expect to survive ten years or more of winter if we don´t have all the granaries full and the resources here? Thank to Ned” the glared at the actual Lord of Winterfell. “we don´t have the gold to buy food from Essos or the Reach in case of Winter.”

“Then what would you have us do?”

“What do I say? Here is what I say” he took a breath. “Renly Baratheon is nothing to me, nor Stannis neither. Why should they rule over me and mine, from some flowery seat in Highgarden or Dorne? What do they know of the Wall or the wolfswood or the barrows of the First Men? Even their gods are wrong. The Others take the Lannisters too, I've had a bellyful of them.” Here was what Robb was dreading. “Why shouldn't we rule ourselves again? It was the dragons we married, and the dragons are all dead! There sits the only king I mean to bow my knee to, m'lords. The King in the North! But not Ned, who already dragged us into a pit… his boy, who despite his youth, is working towards fixing the damage he made by touching the dragons´ cursed gold!!”

“Yeah, the King in the North!!”

“The King in the North!!”

“That can´t happen, my Lord” Robb tried to stop them before they could crown him again. “At least not during winter or we can say goodbye to any help we might get from the South. We need to keep alliances with the South… at least for now. Northern Independence, unfortunately, has to wait.” The Lords grumbled, but accepted that. “For now, we have to work towards surviving this winter, so I suggest we stay out of the War of the Five Kings as much as we can because of the approaching winter” if they can manage that with the Walkers approaching the Wall each day. “and that´s all the South is going to hear of us.”

It took a bit more to convince some of the most stubborn Lords, amongst which surprisingly the Greatjon wasn´t, but he managed to do so just in time to start his trip. He left with the Manderlys towards White Harbor, Theon by his side, to take the fastest ship towards Volantis. He prayed Jon was there already, after having finished his campaign in the Free cities of the Triarchy. They needed to talk to each other face to face… he was sure they could reach some sort of understanding if they did so.

“I´m going, brother”

-In Highgarden-

Willas had been glad his grandmother had locked Loras in his room, as his constant whining was making him mad. It wasn´t like they were actually betraying Renly or even incarcerating him… he got to share a room with Loras, for fuck´s sake!! How many prisoners of war got to share a room with their lovers while being imprisoned?... Of course, he had put several guards in every entrance and way to escape he could think about, as they couldn´t afford the Baratheon Lord to escape, but apart from that, he had all the comforts he could ask for and his brother for company. It wasn´t as if Renly didn´t play a part in their plans. As Stannis apparent heir, if they didn´t count little Shireen, he would think twice before attacking the Reach. And out of his brother´s way, in prison, Renly didn´t pose a danger to his older brother and had better chances to survive. Not that Willas cared too much for him, but if Renly died, Loras would whiter and he couldn´t allow that to happen.

“I still don´t understand why we are doing this” Mace said as the entire family except for the youngest son sat down around Olenna´s desk in her solar. “We should take this chance to make Margaery Queen…”

“Shut up, Mace, and let those with wits speak” his mother instructed as she and Willas exchanged a look. “Believe me when I say that it would be a wasted opportunity. Renly is only interested in Loras, he would not touch Margaery… it would be just like King Aerys the First, only with less intelligence. Which would be a tragedy to the whole Realm.”

“But allying with the Lannisters…” Garlan began.

“That wouldn´t work either” his older brother countered. “Tommen might not be a monster like his older brother and easy to manipulate to both… I´m sorry, sister, but I can´t allow you to marry him” he apologized to Margaery when she tried to open her mouth. “Cersei will never let anyone else have the position of Queen.”

“What could a woman…”

“Shut up unless you have something of use to say, Mace” Olenna said, threatening to actually smack her son upside the head. As if he didn´t know what a woman could do. “Willas is right, and while Tywin might have her controlled for now, he is not going to be there forever. And she is not going to let anyone use a crown but her and her incestuous children, even if she has to kill them herself.”

“Grandmother, couldn´t we take care of her in that case? If Renly isn´t going to work, and Cersei is the problem with Tommen, then couldn´t we demand that she is sent to Casterly Rock or something like that to live her widowhood? Or for Lord Tywin to become Regent and her to be exiled to the Westerlands?”

“Margaery, dear, I´m sure you already know that there are many ways to kill someone even from afar” Olenna said. “And Willas continues to be right, even in death, Cersei is not going to let anyone else have the crown. She will first burn everything down.”

“Burn… grandmother, Willas, what do you know?” Garlan asked, frowning. The two remained silent for a moment. “Please…”

“The Mad King had catches of wildfire under King´s Landing. Tons and tons of that liquid, ready to explode. And the only person that remained that knew their location was the Kingslayer… who share it with his sister lover.” There was a choked sound around as Mace nearly swallow his tongue and Alerie took a hand to her chest. “They are strategically positioned to burn the whole city down… but they could also be used to burn a specific section… which is what the Queen is plotting to do to the woman who dares to try and take her crown from her.”

“Can´t we disable them or…”

“We are not sure where they are, sister, or if we can get rid of all of them. Sorry, sister, but I´m not letting you walk into a trap or to your certain death” Margaery nodded, already scared. If Cersei truly wanted to do something like that, then she was truly mad. “Besides, it might bring it´s own share of troubles, especially with the plans I have been making.”

“Willas? What were you doing?” Mace asked. “You should have told me…”

“Why, Mace, pray tell? You big fat mouth would have spilled the secret to the entirety of Westeros and gotten us all into troubles.”

Willas and Olenna shared a view again. It appears that it was time to tell their family about their plans regarding House Targaryen. Of course, many of them would be disappointed that Margaery won´t be Queen, but Trystane didn´t seem that bad of a partner. Willas could tell that his sister would be happy with him and the Martells will take good care of her. Or at least Oberyn, Sarella and Gerold would. Now he only needed to see the sign that it was time for the invasion to start. Too bad that they would have to let Stannis make the first move… to obliterate himself without them having to move a single finger.

-In Volantis-

Jon and Daenerys returned to their city with the smugness of conquerors. He had always thought that Daemon was exaggerating when he burned down Myr, Tyrosh and Lys, their slavers if he needed to be specific, but now he understood their younger son. They flew their dragons as the Unsullied and his knights walked on the ground, being cheerfully received by the freedmen. It was so good to be back… and if the slavers wanted to attack them again, they would be ready for them. And they will answer with fire and blood.

“Your graces, welcome back” Donyphos saluted them with a bow. He had done a good job holding the city for them, keeping other slaver cities away from them. “Baths are being prepared in your rooms and…”

“What news of the Seven Kingdoms?” Jon asked, sitting down in a chair as Daenerys did the same, only that she focused on a plate of graves. “We remained too long on the Three Whores, setting up a government and way of life that isn´t based into slavery. I´m sure the Lords of the Seven Kingdoms, or at least Tywin Lannister and his daughter, already heard of our successful campaign.”

“Yes, they are” Donyphos pulled out a water mirror. “Lady Sarella sent the news that the War of the Five Kings have already started. Lord Willas made the first move and took Renly Baratheon as a hostage in Highgarden” he rolled his eyes. “He is being threated immensely well, considering his station.”

“He can take care of Renly as he wants, I trust him to teach him the limits” Jon batted a hand. He knew that Renly was probably going to be a prisoner for life, as they couldn´t afford him to make any move on the North. At the same time, Willas was not going to accept anything to happen to his brother´s sun. And his trusted his former advisor to find a way to equilibrate both.
“And Stannis?”

“He sent his letter to the Lords and Ladies of the Realm, also sent his daughter and wife to Storm´s End for safekeeping and to hold it while he wages war against the Lannisters. Ser Cortnay Penrose received them. As for the other Stormlords, they joined Stannis. The other Kingdoms except for the Crownlands and the Westerlands have declared themselves neutral” His eyes narrowed. “The Lords of the Narrow Sea sent a message to us through Lord Aurane and Lady Rogare. They are ready to plunge their daggers into the Usurper´s back as soon as you send the order.”

“No, let´s wait for now.” Daenerys said, smiling. “Let Stannis play his part in this war, lead the Stormlords to their annihilation. Also, we are going to send a little surprise to the Imp with all our love during that battle.”

“And the Lords of the Narrow Sea?”

“They are going to have to play mummers for a bit, something they are definitely not going to like, but the end is going to be favorable for us all… well, unless you are the Baratheons” the Princess shrugged. “I had hoped we capture Lady Shireen too, but that seems to need to wait. Anyway, we have Renly, who is arguably as valuable if not more.”

“Renly… copper Renly” Lucerys said, crossing his arms.

“What?”

“Nothing, it´s only something I heard the old armorer from Castle Black, Donel Noye, say once about the Baratheon brothers. He used to work on Storm´s End before joining the Watch, you know” he raised a finger. “He said that Robert was the true steel. Stannis is pure iron, black and hard and strong, but brittle, that he will break before he bends. And Renly, that one, he's copper, bright and shiny, pretty to look at but not worth all that much at the end of the day.” He smirked. “Considering what we know of them, he was right.”

“You would have preferred to capture Shireen then” Daenerys said. “Would she be the iron like her father then? Because she certainly wasn´t copper like her uncle.”

“I don´t know, but we will find out soon. She might end up the one being crowned now that her uncle Renly is captive of the Tyrells, though I think she might be open to surrender if that saves lives. She was compassionate when I saw her.”

“Enough to pardon her?”

“That´s still up to discussion, but she better acts with reason” her husband clenched his hands around hers. “Because if not, she and everyone that follows her will have to pay in fire and blood.”

They had already discussed this plan with the admiral and decided the best course of action was to let the Lannisters and Baratheons to have a showdown in the Battle of the Blackwater. With the other Kingdoms remaining neutral, that those two bled each other was in their favor. The Lords of the Narrow Sea were not going to be happy to play mummer for the time being, but Dragonstone would secretly return to the Targaryens and that should appease them. Besides, they would not suffer heavy loses like last time and Aurane already had ships ready to replace those that might be lost in battle.

“Returning to the plan, do you think our gift for Aurane and Lysandra had already arrived?”

“I´m sure of that.”

-In Driftmark-

“Time is coming, wife”

Aurane said as he opened the box that held the gift from Queen Daenerys and Prince Lucerys. Once again, he had to admire the expertise of Armax Hoat, to make such a great reproduction of the armor that Laenor Velaryon wore to the Saltpans. He opened the box addressed to Lysandra too, finding a reproduction of the armor of the Queen who never was in Valyrian Steel. Accompanying the armors, were two saddles specially made for growing dragons, of the kind that their ancestors used before the Dance of Dragons. Just in time, he might add, because their dragons were almost at a size to be mounted.

“And look who woke up to celebrate, husband” Lysandra approached with little Laena in her arms. Aurane left the armor to caress the soft silver hair on his daughter´s head. The babe cooed prettily at this. “You like having your hair played with, darling? Or it´s only having kepa´s attention that you like?”

“Definitely kepa´s attention” the mariner answered, plucking the child from her arms. He bounced her carefully, making her laugh. “Just look at how she is reacting!!”

“Just wait when she rides a dragon for the first time…”

They both quiet down for a moment. The first rite, it was a tradition amongst the Valyrian dragonriders that the parents would take their infants in their first ride over dragons in pouches. Alyssa Targaryen had brought that tradition back to life and since then all dragonriders that could have followed, including Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen who Never was. Aurane had wished to do so in his former life, but he lacked a dragon back then and continue lacking one until Laena bonded with Seasmoke… but now was different. Everything was different. Including…

“We are going to do it, no, Aurane?” Lysandra said, hands clenched around his arm. “So our little girl is safe.”

“And for revenge” he added. “Don´t worry, sweet girl, I´m going to avenge you. And when this is all over, you will sour in the sky without a care in the world. You will live a long and happy life with children and grandchildren. I promise you that.”

Chapter Text

Lucerys was feeling better than in ages… in fact, he was pretty sure that he had only felt better when he helped Daemon and the girls burn Casterly Rock to the ground. He would have wanted to be a fly on the wall to see the tantrum Tyrion threw after finding what remained of his precious castle and legacy… though it would have been a better feeling to burn the Starks down himself. Too bad the White Walkers interrupted his little quest for vengeance, if not he would have already had the supreme pleasure of burning that bitch Sansa, the image of her bitchy fish of a mother, down himself. Sansa and Brandon Stark both…

The image of his beautiful wife changing herself out of what was under her armor. The image of her perky breasts, bountiful hips and lovely legs all naked and showing got a fire in him. And he was sure that she was admiring him as he changed into something more appropriate to sleep. They were both very sexually frustrated, being already grown ups that had experienced and enjoyed the pleasures of the flesh. They missed it… but it was still not time. Daenerys was still a girl, too young to bare a pregnancy, which puts her too much at risk of not only dying in childbed (something that brought to surface some terrible feelings regarding what happened to his mother) but of being rendered infertile. So, like Jaehaerys and Alysane, they decided to wait until the woman reached ten and five namedays… it was a terrible torture, but he was willing to endure it for his wife. And the children.

“There are other ways to please someone, you know?” Daenerys said, not bending down to pick up her dress from the floor. She was getting more tempting by the second… and he was pretty sure that it was her wish.

“You have been talking to Missandei and Grey Worm?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. The Unsullied couldn´t have children after what the masters of Astapor had done to them, but some of them still made use of the brothel (one that didn´t have slaves at all, but people that actually decided to earn a life that way, including some freedmen).

“In fact, yes, we have talked about it. And Armax, you know that he knows more than most about it.”

“Armax hates sex”

“Yes, but he has been willing to share his knowledge with me so… people that needs it could use it” she walked over to him, still not dressed, sitting down on his lap. His member twitched, but didn´t enter her. He wanted to, but he couldn´t condemn her. A year of wait is more than worth it so she had better chances in the birthing bed. “There are some things that you could do with someone else that doesn´t sow a seed.”

“You have definitely spent too much time with Missandei and Grey Worm.”

“And you should put that talented mouth of yours to use on me” she answered, purring like one of the dragons when they received pets in their snouts. “You bragged to me about how much you pleasured Ygritte with your tongue and, when I stopped being jealous, curiosity made me want to desire it.”

“We have already done that… the both of us”

“Made me want more”

“And what else did you learn from our common friends? I´m sure that pleasuring you with my tongue is not the only thing you wish me to do to you, wife.” He purred himself, her breasts just before his eyes. “Tell me”

“Well, there is something Armax called intercrural sex” she continued. “I close my legs really hard and you put your cock between them, right over my… precious place… and move as if you are inside of me, because your seed will be spilled on the bed. That way, we both get pleasure without the risk of having a child too early… or two.”

“That sounds like something I would like to try. How about we…”

The knock on the door interrupted them. Sighing, Daenerys got out of his lap and walked towards her dress, as Lucerys threw a robe over his naked form. Just when they were finally going to satiate their urges. Dany opened the door, revealing Missandei. The scribe entered the room with the easiness of someone used to that, bowing to both her Queen and Prince before talking. What she said was something he hadn´t been expecting to listen, though it wasn´t something unpleasant. Or it was pleasant to see such unpleasant people dragging themselves half-way across the world to beg him. Not that it was going to help them much, he wasn´t the same as they once knew.

“How should we deal with them, my Prince?” she asked, already accustomed to her duties as their persona servant. “My Queen?”

“Of course you should throw them out” Dany answered, crossing her arms. “What are they doing here anyway? It´s not like they are going to find much sympathy in our lands, much less forgiveness for…”

“To whom you are referring when you say Lord Stark, Missandei?” he asked, having a hunch on who it was that had come to beg in the name of his family. “I doubt it is my uncle. And the Raven would try to kill me as soon as he landed in our city, so…” he smirked when he saw her expression. “Aw, cousin Robb still thinks that I´m his poor little shadow, following him around like his perfect little servant.”

“Your cousin should have learned by now not to get in dangerous places” his wife raised an eyebrow. “Didn´t he got murdered last time during a wedding for entering the castle of a family he had slighted?”

“He didn´t consider me dangerous at all… grave mistake.” Lucerys served some wine for the three of them, passing each of the women with him a cup. “He probably hasn´t realized by now how much I have changed.” He took a sip before continuing. “Robb still believed I´m the Jon Snow he had known for years in Winterfell… but Jon Snow is dead.”

“So sad that something bad happened to such honorable man, to that paragon of integrity and honesty” his wife joked.

“Please, the death of a dullard is the natural result of the Game… but if you live enough to learn from your mistakes, then you might become a great player.” He shrugged. “And, as dear uncle Aemon said, kill the boy and let the man be born. Last time, I did that too late. Now that I have another chance, I won´t commit the same mistakes.”

“Then I should expel him and his companion from the city, my Prince?”

“Why the rush? At least, let´s entertain ourselves with whatever tales they have to tell. And, of course, with his desperate begs to make me forgive some of their crippling debt” he chuckled. “That´s going to be a true spectacle.”

“I will inform Lord Stark that you will receive him shortly and take him to the guest rooms.”

“No, take him to the lantern´s room” he smirked. It was a small solar they had conditioned for the dragons when they were smaller, full of small lamps that projected small shadows in the walls, so the reptilians could chase them and play. It was empty right now, but it won´t be for long once the children started to arrive. And, better, it was really close to their room, enough for them to hear any problem… or it´s occupants them. “Tell him I´m going to be there shortly, to not leave the room. Oh, and send Ghost to them. I´m sure he wants to say hello to his littermate after so long apart.”

“Sure”

“The lantern´s room” Daenerys asked. “It´s almost as if you want him close. Tell me, husband, are you really receiving him so you could ridicule him or is it to protect him.”

“Keep your friends close, your enemies closer” he answered. “Especially when the enemy is so easy to use against their own.”

“Then I guess the fun is over” she sounded disappointed.

“What´s the rush?” Lucerys asked, grabbing her hand before she could grab her dress and flee their room. “Roob and Theon are not going anywhere and having them close doesn´t mean we can´t do whatever we want. This is our home, after all.”

“But…”

“Come here” he brought her back to him. “Help me show those two boys the way a real man makes a woman enjoy herself.”

Daenerys must have really been more excited than he thought, because she didn´t put objecting and they kissed. She didn´t hold her voice in when they were… doing their things, not even because she knew one of the hated Starks was on the next room. In fact, she put more effort pleasuring Lucerys, as much as he did pleasuring her, because of that. After all, what is better revenge than rubbing in your enemy´s face how happy you were?

-A few hours before-

Robb Stark didn´t know what to expect, but certainly not a party all over the streets. It certainly didn´t look like a city that had recently been on war, also recently been conquered by a pair of dragonriders. What he had certainly had expected had been the dragons all over the city, but not even his previous encounter with Morghul, the biggest and oldest of the dragons of this era, had prepared him for the great creatures that were flying freely over the city. He wondered for a second if a scorpion bolt could down them like it did Meraxes… he wasn´t so sure about Morghul, but the other three perhaps.

As he and Theon got out from the Manderly ship and walked through the city, he saw the people celebrating around. Most of them were obviously freedmen, former slaves that were celebrating the release of several more like them in the Three Daughters and another step towards the final end of slavery in Essos. As they got closer to the Black Walls, that were supposedly left intact intentionally during the Targaryen Conquest, he saw more places where dancers were offering free spectacles to everyone. They were obviously professional performers, some of them bearing the tattoos of slaves. There was one in particular that caught his attention. He was doing sloppy work, but seemed to have procured himself a big pile of ashes, over what he was dancing. Was he a slave in Myr, Lys or Tyrosh in the past? He didn´t seem the type, but the brothels of Lys were said to cater to different tastes, so…

“Lord Stark” shortly after they had left the performer from the ashes, they were stopped by armed guards. No, no guards, Unsullied. “We have been tasked to make you come with us to the palace.”

“We aren´t trying to stir trouble in your… celebrations of victory.”

“Then come without offering resistance”

They took them both straight to the residence of the Targaryens. Robb looked up in wonder, how much things have changed since they were all children in Winterfell, he thought to himself. The Three Headed Dragon banner flew over the big construction, as did two of the dragons. One was the Queen´s personal mount and another he recognized as the one his brother… his cousin had flown to the Riverlands. Which were their names again? Oh yes, Drogon, who some were calling the Black Dread Reborn or the Black Queen since they heard she had laid a clutch of eggs; and Morghul the Cannibal. They were an awe and dread inspiring sight by themselves, with the other dragons… it was nearly impossible to imagine how the Lannisters thought they could throw them back if the Targaryens decided to invade again. Three dragons had conquered Westeros once, four can do the job easier. Or more than four, if they waited until they had an extended family.

“Welcome” a short, richly dressed foreign Lady bowed in the entrance of the palace. She spoke the Common Tongue easily, despite it definitely not being her mother tongue… a translator? “I´m Missandei, personal servant of Queen Daenerys and Prince Lucerys. I´m here to escort you to the room where you are to wait for the audience with their graces.”

“Thank you, my Lady”

“If you please follow me”

Robb felt uncomfortable by how she was looking at him. It was knowing kind of look, as she was expecting him to do something or to find something in him that was familiar. He concluded that perhaps she had come from the future too. And if she did, then she definitely would have known his sister. He nearly groaned, wondering how long Sansa´s terrible decisions in life and fame was going to haunt them all. Theon´s hand flew towards him, keeping him from his thoughts. Right, this was not the moment to ponder on his sister. He was here to talk to his brother, to Jon, and that´s in what he should be focusing for now. It should be easy, they were so close before… BEFORE.

“Please, wait in this room”

Robb wondered for a second what this room was used for. There were comfortable seats around, though some of the walls had charred marks. Perhaps from lamp oil? The lamps around also seemed to be made to project shadows on the walls and move… was this some sort of playroom for toddlers? But, as long as he knew, Queen Daenerys hadn´t gotten pregnant yet. His twin nephews were born much later in both his brother´s and the Queen´s life and his nieces much later… he had already gotten to the idea that he might end up becoming an uncle much before in this life, but he had expected to hear about it, no matter the distance between…

Then the sounds started. The sounds of… deep moans of… oh, for the Old Gods and the New, was that Jon?!! And the woman was… dammit, they were being too loud!! And why had they put him in this room if they were going to take their time doing… that? He meant, he didn´t have anything about having a personal celebration of victory in the marriage bed or even the fur roll in the camp, nothing made the blood boil like a war and he already knew why so many of his men during the War of the Five Kings made use of the camp follower´s company, though he definitely had made an effort to make sure that no one else could hear him and his wife… in such a position.

“Woow” Theon said as he looked up. He was uncomfortable most of the times in the matters of the bedroom, inappropriate in others, but right now he didn´t seem to be. In fact, this was the closest to the old Theon he had seen him since they returned. “They are being loud.”

“Right” Robb said, clearly trying to forget it. After all, this was his brother and goodsister they were forced to listen. Relatives he was sure could be heard by the whole city despite the party outside. In fact, he was sure that, by the time this ends, even those in Meereen were going to know exactly how much their Queen enjoyed her husband.

“I didn´t expect this from Snow, he used to be so… shy.”

“Well, a lot of things change in twenty years or so, more in a lifetime” too many things indeed. So many that he couldn´t say he knew his own siblings any longer. “We should concentrate in what we are doing here. We came to negotiate the repayment of the debt House Stark has with Jon…”

“You mean to repay the money your mother took from his inheritance and your father tried to avoid paying?”

“Theon…”

“What? It´s the truth”

“Anyway” the Young Wolf could feel a vein pulsing in his forehead, though he recognized the validity of the argument the squid was making there. “What I´m trying to say is that…” a particularly loud moan from both the participants in the… Robb blushed darker than he had ever in his life. “We should keep our minds on what we came here for. Negotiating an extension on the debt repayment is imperative if we are going to keep the North on float. Or without rebelling.”

“Right” the Greyjoy answered, looking at him intently. “Do you…”

“No”

“But…”

“The answer is going to remain no”

They waited for a long time, hearing those noises. Robb did his best to block them out, not wanting to imagine his own brother in such a position. Though he had to admit that Jon had changed much more than he could ever believe. From the one that was too shy to even use the services of a whore at the brothel in Wintertown to someone who clearly, shamelessly, could pleasure a woman, his own wife or not. To block everything out he started to practice the argument he was going to have with Jon. As he went from one side to the other of the room, he repeated whatever he was going to say. He didn´t know how much time he was doing that, but stopped as soon as the door opened. Jon… his cousin Lucerys entered in that moment, barely wearing something, a robe that left his chest visible. His chest full of love marks. He frowned at that.

“Oh, shut up, Stark” he said, crossing his eyes over his chest. His grey indigo eyes showed his utter lack of remorse. “That you only got something from Greyjoy doesn´t mean the rest of us are the same.”

“Jon…”

“Prince Lucerys if you mind, and don´t try to convince me that you haven´t reaped benefits from his particular training” his eyes landed on Theon, who was shuddering. “The Bolton Bastard told me when he was my prisoner that he and his paramour Miranda trained him to bring both males and females to completion. And I´m pretty sure that Alys is too much of a northern lady to use her tongue on you.”

“I haven´t come all the way here to talk to you about that, Jon… my Prince…”

“Better” he lifted a finger, making a gesture to tell someone to move. Theon immediately did, pressing him to a corner. “No, you haven´t come all the way here to talk about Greyjoy… or what remains of him after the Bolton Bastard turned him into one of his bitches” his smirk went wider. “You have come here to talk to me about the huge debt your parents have gotten the whole North into. A debt that could have bought Casterly Rock…”

“Were you planning to buy your way to the Iron Throne? I didn´t took you for one of those.”

“Of course not, I´m not Littlefinger” he frowned at the implication. “But I have plans for that money. If you haven´t noticed, me and my wife are building our own empire here while you and the other Westerossi rip one another to pieces in a bloody war.”

“The North is staying out of it”

“Are you going to be able to stay out of it?”

“My father was rescued by Arya and I´m Lord of the North now, with the support of all the Lords, so we are going to do what benefits us most, not what´s honorable. We aren´t supporting Stannis” he said, very serious. “And no one has heard of Renly since he escaped from the Red Keep, not even about his marriage to Margaery Tyrell. And, unexpectedly, Lord Yohn Royce has remained neutral as Regent of the Vale.” His cousin was still unperturbed. “What I´m trying to say is that the only Kingdoms that are going to war are the Stormlands, the Crownlands and the Westernlands. You aren´t going to get what you want, J… Lucerys. And the threat of the White Walkers…”

“I have taken precautions against that, you should have done that too while you had your chance” he shrugged. “Besides, what tells you that I haven´t taken my own countermeasures against your so called peace? Chaos is a ladder, as Littlefinger said… but he was too impatient. Sansa too. And if I´m a master of something, it´s patience.” He walked around. “Also, I have had my fill with fighting the Others…”

“Jon”

“No one, Robb, no one ever helped me, listened to me, when I asked left and right for help to fight them, to save all the living from them. Now they are going to receive from me exactly what I got from them… nothing” he answered. “And without me, my wife and the dragons, they are going trample over you. As you see, BROTHER, I don´t need the Lannisters to rip you into pieces again, the Walkers are going to do that for me.”

“The Walkers are doing that to you too… again”

“I have taken measures, as I have said. You, the Tullys and the Arryns are going to get what you had coming to you. You haven´t noticed, but all the pieces are put on the board” Robb was speechless. Since when had Jon turned into such a ruthless player of the game? Once, his brother had been honorable, betrayal of vows was something horrifying to him, now talked about it as if it was something natural. And perhaps that was why he had lasted against players like Tyrion Lannister and Sansa. “As for the debt, you are not going to receive any lenience.”

“Jon…”

“Lucerys, Robb, and it´s damn time you and your mother learn my name!!”

“My mother has been punished, Lucerys, I can assure you that” he started. He didn´t want to play this card, but he knew that part of the anger his brother felt against the former Lady of Winterfell, much of it in fact, was justified because of her treatment of him when he was a child. So she had to be punished. “Not only you, but the whole North was demanding that she would be punished after they learned what she had done. And my father didn´t have power to protect her, not after they demanded that I should replace him. She has been sent back to Riverrun in dishonor, not recognized as the Lady of Winterfell any longer.”

“Good”

“And you should already know this, Larence Snow went to the Hornwood to congratulate his brother Darrin on his betrothal with Sansa. You were there to pick him up… brother, she is going to be another Cassandra Baratheon, never to bother anyone again with her plots again.”

“If you really think that will stop her, then you are more stupid than your father” he shook his head. “The only thing you have achieved with this is sentencing Larence´s brother to death after she has birthed one or two children.” He turned around. “As for the debt, I´m afraid I´m not going to be able to help you in that for the moment. My Flame of Tessarion is the one that handles most financial issues and I would need his counsel on how to proceed.”

“Then let me talk to him” Robb asked, though he was sure that Jon didn´t trust anyone enough any longer to manage his personal issues for him. Though he probably had a few people that he indeed trust enough to handle his small council.

“Unfortunately, he is managing some issues in Westeros… if you understand that” he smirked. “And you should go back, your people are going to need some strong leadership soon if they want to survive what´s coming for them.”

The Stark was again left speechless, staring at the Targaryen. Once they knew each other more than anyone, being practically twins despite not having shared a womb. Now he could barely recognize the Jon Snow he knew in the man that was in front of him, Lucerys Targaryen. It seems that… his brother and his cousin were two completely different people. The Jon he once knew would have given in to him most of the times if not always, and while he was not expecting something like that now that he wasn´t a bastard any longer, he hoped that he would at least listen to him. It seems like those days were long in the past by now.

“Oh, but before come to dine with me one last time, brother” he said mockingly, especially when saying the last word. “You ship should be refilled for the long trip back by the morning, so you have time.”

“It will be my pleasure… brother”

That word seemed to weight in his tongue as it finally sunk in him that his brother was dead and his cousin a stranger. The idea was cemented as he and Theon sat down for the feast that night, flaunting their happiness right in front of them. That and their Valyrian heritage, as they dressed and styled in the same way as the other nobles around them, most of them of volantene origin. He also saw someone that he hadn´t been expecting there… much less to approach the prince and queen with such familiarity. The dancer from before, the one that was dancing over the ashes… someone whispered that it was Armax Hoat, the smith that managed the Valyrian steel forges in the city. He was a former slave, being kept in captivity in Lys, which was why he had danced in the ashes of the city that had ripped his freedom away from him. Robb wouldn´t be surprised if it was Armax that told the Targaryens about his presence in the city.

In the middle of the feast musicians appeared and started to play songs in both High Valyrian and the Common Tongue. Much to his surprise, the Prince Consort himself performed by singing for his nobles the same song that he had performed for Robert Baratheon and his court when they came back. But much to Robb´s surprise, when the song in High Valaryan finished, the music continued in the same tone as before. And Lucerys continued singing…

“I am King over the Mountain
My wings are like a hurricane
Feel the heat of my breath
I am fire, I am death (I am fire! I am death!)

I am Smaug
Titan of the skies
You will fear me
Cower as my wings eclipse the sun

Sovereign of the fire, down on your knees
You must know you can't run
I am Smaug
I am Smaug

I am King over the Mountain
Little thief in my domain
Hear the furnace in my chest
I am fire, I am death (I am fire! I am death!)

I am Smaug
Titan of the skies you will fear me
Cower as my wing eclipse the sun
Sovereign of the fire, down on your knees
You must know you can't run
I am Smaug
Wrath and Ruin
Desolation
It's all mine, it's all mine

Wrath and Ruin
Desolation
It's all mine, it's all mine

I am Smaug
Titan of the skies
You will fear me
Cower as my wings eclipse the sun
Sovereign of the fire
Down on your knees
You must know you can't run
I am Smaug”

Robb was speechless again. How could have he sung something like that in front of Robert Baratheon? Even if there was a minimum possibility of the King understanding even a little of what was said in the song, he should have known he was risking his life by doing that. But, for some reason, this was the kind of thing he could see Lucerys Targaryen doing. Though also… this also was the last nail in Jon Snow´s coffin. Or any of his other siblings´. Things have changed… and he should change too. No, if he wanted to survive, he MUST.

-In Dragonstone-

Aurane Waters and Lysandra Rogarre watched from their seat in the lower tables as Stannis Baratheon addressed the Lords of the Stormlands and the Narrow Sea. The first ones seemed to be eagerly listening to him, believing that their liege Renly had been captured and detained by the treacherous Queen Cersei Lannister, while the others were suspicious. And practically plotting rebellion in their minds. Their loyalty had always been to House Targaryen and now that the dragons were showing their strength again, they were ready to throw their lots again with them. It good, considering that Aurane and his wife had also been plotting for this exact moment for an entire year. And more. He wasn´t going to ask how everything had developed so fast, he wasn´t the kind to look at a gifted horse in the mouth. For now… he will just say that the Gods favored them and not the Stag Usurper, despite how much his red witch prophesied him as Azor Ahai.

“We have all ready, brother” Monford said later in the night, after the burning of the Statues of the Seven. The Velaryons didn´t care much, as they had been secret practitioners of the Fourteen Flames for Generations, but the most pious lords had turned their backs on him. “If the Targaryens are going to do something, it needs to be done now.”

“Not until the battle”

“Are you sure we are going to be able to win? We are going against both the Baratheons and the Lannisters by ourselves… and the Velaryon fleet hasn´t recovered since it was destroyed in that storm… not that the Usurper would have allowed us to.”

“Don´t worry about it, brother, and leave everything to me”

“Aurane…”

“It´s going to be fine, Monford” he assured his brother. “You remember what I said to you? If you are Corlys, then I´m Addam Velaryon. And I will always be loyal to our house and our lieges. That´s never going to change” he turned to leave, but then a thought invaded his mind and he embraced Monford strongly. “I will see you after the battle, brother”

“Yes, sure” the Lord of Driftmark said, surprised by his sudden expression of brotherly love.

Aurane went away, but not to the Pipefish. While he was a capable Admiral and ship commander, that was not the role he needed to fulfill now. No, right now, he needed to truly be the Addam Velaryon to Daenerys´ Rhaenyra. He found Lysandra on the cave they had raised their dragons in. He helped her put the chairs he stole from the old storehouse on Grey Ghost and Terrax. They were so small… big enough to carry their riders but definitely not as big as Syrax or even Arrax had been at the time of the Dance. He then helped his wife and in turn was helped into the armor. Lysandra was using one that had belonged to the Queen who never Was and he, as an ironic turn, was wearing the repaired one Addam Velaryon had used when ridding Seasmoke. He fastened the cloak and got into Grey Ghost. He patted the dragon in the neck.

“You ready?” he asked, as Lysandra nodded. She was wearing her family´s crest on her cape. It was going to be the first time a Rogare flew a dragon, no matter that they had Dragon´s Blood. Laena had been a Velaryon twice over and so were Corlys and Laenor. And it was exactly for them that they would finish their mission successfully. “Let´s go”

A horn was blasted in that moment, the ships of the Stormlands´ army sailing first as the Velaryon fleet tried to keep distance. He gave the order and his dragon took flight, Lysandra´s following closer before they separated to do their respective parts. As he approached the Lannister line, his dragon much less noticeable than his wife´s and capable of camouflaging into the dark sky, he heard the alert being sound in all the city. He looked down, ah, there they were…

“Dracarys!!”

The Battle of the Blackwater had begun.

Chapter Text

Monford couldn´t believe it at first when he saw the ships lit up in flames before him, then the screech he hadn´t expected to ever hear in his life. And not only the ships, the towers with chains that the Imp had placed to close the Blackwater Way. He was glad that his ships had stayed on the back. Uncharacteristically for Aurane, he had taken the blame for the Velaryon fleet recent mishaps due to poor management, something that had made them take positions on the rear instead that lead the march by the sea. Most Stormlords have laughed, saying that the Velaryons had lost their shine in the sea and that was what he got for trusting a bastard with his ships. Monford knew how a good sailor his brother was and how he took care of their ships, so there was no way that Aurane would allow something like that to happen. Surely something else must be at play…

He immediately knew why when he saw a dragon descending on the Baratheon fleet, which didn´t have any means of protection. After all, the dragons were far away, including the Targaryen couple. He was also surprised when he saw the animal setting fire to all the ships manned by Stormlanders and mercenaries, but left the Velaryon ones alone. It was as if the rider knew which ships were…

“Lord Monford!! Monford!!” the rider was now over them, screaming. It was a woman… he recognized her voice. It was Lysandra, his goodsister. “You need to turn back the ships towards Dragonstone and capture the keep!! Including the ones that survived the shipwreck!! The Queen and Prince trust you!!”

As if that wasn´t the only answer, he thoughts as Lysandra moved her dragon away towards the line of burning Baratheon ships. Stannis wasn´t going to be able to keep control of Dragonstone now, and most of the Stormlords could be made prisoners without much effort. The Lannisters weren´t going to be able to do much if they were protected by dragons, even if this barely could lift their ridders and were untried in battle. Of course, for it to work, the offensive and taken of the Pretender´s family had to be done before the news of their treason reached the castle and prompted the escape of Lady Selyse and Lady Shireen. Breaching Storm´s End wasn´t going to be as easy.

“You already heard the lady, lads” he commanded. “Back to the piers, we have a castle to take. Make the signal for half of the ships to come with me, the other half is to remain and take captives from the shipwrecks.”

He rushed to turn back the ship, while thinking about how long the Queen and her husband had been planning this. Probably a long time, since they contacted Aurane. Wait, when had his brother gotten in touch with the Targaryens? He hadn´t heard about him visiting Volantis or any city they were known to be in. Where was Aurane anyway? He should have been captaining the Pipefish, but suddenly he had handed command to his second and gone away on some business with his wife… with his wife!!

If you are Corlys the Sea Snake, I´m Addam Velaryon.

His neck turned around when he remembered what Aurane had been saying lately in many ways. Addam Velaryon had been known to history as a loyal supporter of the Blacks, but also as a Dragonrider of the dragon Seasmoke. If his brother was saying what he believed was saying, then Aurane was… another screech pierced the night and more explosions followed. His eyes intinctly went towards the source of the cry and saw more green fire burning on the distance. Lysandra´s dragon was still breaking havock amongst the Baratheon ships, there wasn´t a way her dragon could…

“May the Fourteen Flames protect you, brother” he said, almost as a prayer. Aurane might felt invincible now that he rode a dragon, but history had already taught them what happened to dragonriders that thought exactly that. And he would hate to lose his only sibling, much less if he ended like Jacaerys Velaryon.

As the Velaryon ships left the place of the battle, covered by dragonfire, Monford gave a last look towards the Lannister lines, where he was sure his brother was. Sending an actual pray to Vhagar for protection during battle and Meleys for him to return home, he focused on reaching Dragonstone at top speed. Aurane had done his part in the Targaryen Restoration, it was time for him to do his. He hoped Shrykos, the god most beloved and respected by house Velaryon, king of the Sea, send his winds so his sails took his fast to where he must be. And Shrykos must have heard, because he arrived before any missive from the ships, if even one managed to depart.

“What in the Seven´s name ha…” one of the guards of the piers started to ask.

“Wildfire!! The Lannisters are insane, they used wildfire to turn back the fleet!! Hurry, there must be more ships returning with burn victims!!” he screamed, managing to get rid of the guards, who went to see what was happening. “Come on, we have to inform the Queen and Princess.”

Feeling more like a mummer than a Lord, he walked towards the castle. There were very few guards loyal to the Baratheons on his march towards the castle, but once he reached it, things changed. The Queen´s Men, lead by that incompetent Alester Florent, were around the wife of the Pretender. He had very few of his own men, having left a significant amount of them in the piers to stab the Baratheon guards on the back when the Velaryon ships arrived, hopefully with Stannis in their power. Though, for now, his only worry was to impede the escape of the Usurper´s goodsister and niece.

“You Grace”

“Why are you here, Lord Velaryon, and not with my husband?” she asked with her eyes focusing on the flames her priestess have lit for her. Where was the red woman though? She was always near Selyse or Stannis these days. “You should already know that we will all perish if the Promised Prince…”

“I wanted to talk to you about the battle, my Queen” he continued, approaching her. The guards got in his way, but the Florent woman turned around and made them lower their weapons. She approached quickly.

“Is it done? Have we won? The dragons woke up from stone as the prophecy said?”

Monford wasn´t sure where his brother and goodsister had even got the dragons, but he was sure that Daenerys Targaryen and her husband were the ones that had given them to them. The dragons hadn´t come to help the Usurper´s brother, but to end his supposed reign. He approached Selyse, as if wanting to speak to her. In a fluid movement, he unsheated his dagger and put it on the fake Queen´s throat. The Queen´s men took their hands to the swords, but his own, having positioned themselves, were able to make them surrender.

“If any of you, Usurper´s dogs, try something, your lady will die” Monford said, holding the knife right at the trembling Selyse´s throat. “You” he signaled another of his men. “Go and get Lady Shireen. Once we have her, it´s over for them.”

“Lord Velaryon, you traitor…”

“You are the ones who betrayed their king first, and for a lie” he glared at her. “But now, the dragons have returned and the Targaryens are going to follow them soon. And you and your husband will be the first ones to burn for your goodbrother´s treason.”

As the men from the piers joined them, along with the rest of the Velaryon fleet, he managed to secure the castle without much opposition. Many men surrendered when the Stormlord and the Usurper´s brother were shown in chains, something that gave Monford a pleasure he hadn´t felt in years. Since Rhaegar´s fall, Dragonstone was finally back in the hands of it´s rightful owner. For the next few minutes, he allowed himself to enjoy the moment, wondering when the Queen and Prince would come to their rightful place. He had heard that the Queen´s dragons were ridable now, it should be soon. Though something unexpected happened when the men he had sent to search the castle for Lady Shireen returned empty handed. No, with something much more inconvenient.

“The shadows come to dance, my lord, dance my lord, dance my lord. The shadows come to stay, my lord, stay my lord, stay my lord.” The old fool sung, even when Monford´s scowl deepened. Then again, it was a lackwit, he probably didn´t even know what was happening there. “In the dark the dead are dancing. I know, I know, oh oh oh.”

“Take that thing away, right now” he said, glaring at the fool. “How is it that you fools can´t find a single girl? We need to find her before she reaches Storm´s End or those loyal to her father that are in the Stormlands or escaped could rally after her.”

“Lord Monford…”

“What?!”

“Lady Lysandra is coming back, we have sighted her dragon flying towards here” the Velaryon Lord rubbed his eyes. Was it morning already? It must be if they saw the dragon coming. Was his brother with her? Why hadn´t they mentioned Aurane? He was supposed to be back soon. “It seems to be carrying something in it´s talons.”

“What could it be?”

They all went to the courtyard to see what Lysandra had caught. Two human forms were thrown to the ground in from of them by the dragon before it flew in a circle over them. It was Lady Shireen and a boy with a ship embroidered in his clothes. A ship with a distinctive onion on it´s sail. Devan Seaworth then, one of Stannis´ squires. The dragon landed in that moment, allowing Lysandra to climb down from it. It growled at the boy, who had quickly gotten in front of the Lady and pulled out a dagger. Not that it would do him much good, he was completely surrounded by Velaryon men. The dragon roared at him, which filled him with terror, but he refused to surrender even with that threat.

“You are courageous, boy, but there is no way for you to get out of here alive if you continue like that. Nor your Lady” Monford crossed his arms. “I suggest that you surrender right this moment, if you want to avoid both your death and Lady Baratheon´s.”
Devan refused. Monford only signaled at his sailors, who immediately took on the boy and disarmed him, not without suffering a certain amount of damage. Lysandra watched the spectacle with a certain amusement, caressing the neck of her dragon to keep it calm and mumbling sweet nonsenses in High Valyrian.

“When I found them, they were already on route towards Storm´s End” she said as the dragon finally took off, probably to be fed. There were still some families descended of the old dragonkeepers that knew how to take care of the animals, it would be better to ask them how to take care of the dragon from them on. Dragons, in fact. “It would have been a disaster for the Usurper´s niece and practically only heir to escape, Lord Velaryon. How did she escape anyway?”

“Apparently, young Seaworth somehow learned of our taking the castle and smuggled her out with the aim to reach Storm´s End.”

“Seaworth, you say?”

“Yes, Devan Seaworth, one of Lord Stannis´ squires, you didn´t know?”

Lysandra put on an expression filled with hate for a moment, but she managed to control herself after a few moments. She nodded as she saw young Seaworth and Lady Shireen being taken to the castle. As a roar signaled the return of Aurane. Monford sighed in relief as he saw his brother get down from the dragon, which was a darker color than the one his wife was ridding. It must have been why he hadn´t been visible during the night.

“Where were you? Why did you take so long?” he asked his brother as the other dragon flew off to his companion. After Aurane took something from it´s back. Or someone. It was a golden haired girl, with a long yellow dress.

“I had to take a detour, so I can pick something from one of our friends in the Red Keep” he said, grabbing his hostage even closer. The girl looked scared beyond belief. “Brother, may I present Myrcella Hill, so-called daughter of Robert Baratheon, actual daughter of Ser Jaime Lannister and Cersei Lannister.”

“It seems that someone made us a great favor” his gaze lowered towards the girl. “Lady Hill, welcome to Dragonstone. We are going to try to make your stay here comfortable, but you are going to have to follow the rules. So long as you do, you won´t have to worry about your life going sour.” he made a signal to another guard. “Alyn, please find accommodations for Lady Hill.”

“Yes, my Lord”

-A few hours before-

Aurane was flying through the darkness after burning the Lannister fleet. It was an easy thing, with the ships Tyrion had loaded with wildfire. Aerys´ wildfire, to be exact. He felt thrilled, as he made the enemy´s sword his own. As the ships the Imp and the Mad Lioness were going to use against the Baratheon fleet and the own Baratheon ships burned, he flied higher, trying to disappear into the sky. As he made some circles around the city before coming down in the middle of the Kingswood. He hoped that he was already there, he didn´t even want to think what could happen if…

“Sorry for being late, sneaking out was harder than we planned even with Sarella´s intervention” Daemon Sand appeared, carrying someone unconscious on his back as well as Caraxes´ Grace. “This one was also harder to find. Even if she wasn´t sent to Dorne, the Mad Lioness tried to sneak her first to a manor on King´s Landing and from there to Pentos, putting an imposter on her place. I had to… take some hasty measures.”

“So long as no one connects you or Dorne with the kidnapping” Aurane received the Princess Myrcella… no, Lady Myrcella Hill and tied her well to his saddle. He was glad the girl was small and his dragon could carry her, or this was going to be much more difficult. “What do the Imp think you are doing?”

“Help in the battlements with Gerold… though, like I said, it´s not going to last for long, so I have to get back. You too” he turned around as Aurane climbed back on his dragon. “The Imp has put someone to tail me, so I can´t allow him to lose me from sight even for a moment. After all, he knows who I am. And what I can do.”

“He is going to suspect you as soon as they noticed their Princess is gone.”

“But they aren´t going to have a proof and that´s the important thing.” He started to walk away. “May the Mother guide you with her water home, Aurane.”

“May the Fourteen bless you and guard you in every endeavor, Daemon.”

It might be a surprise, that they didn´t care about which god or gods the other flames followed, but the Prince had never cared about it. After all, Jon Snow had once worshipped the Old Gods and respected the Seven despite the way he was treated by his aunt. He had converted to the Fourteen Flames later in life, but had allowed his followers to continue worshipping their own gods. It was a strange gathering though, Aurane and the Prince who followed the Fourteen, Lysandra the Lady of Lys, Daemon and the dornish Mother Rhyone, Willas the Seven…

Though it was not time to be bothered about that. Speeding as much as he could so the night didn´t end before he was out of reach of any catapult or arrow (the Lannisters didn´t have any functioning scorpion, thanks the Fourteen, as they considered the Targaryens were not a threat yet), he went away with the Lannister girl. As he landed on Dragonstone safely and handed the girl over to his brother, he felt he had succeeded. The capture of the Baratheon heir, the one of the Lannister supposed Princess, burning both fleets to the ground, which would left the Lannisters unable to attack Dragonstone for a long time while they hold a lance right over their heart with their dragons… this was going exactly according to the plan.

“And?” he asked Monford later, as he was sitting down in the solar that had been the Targaryen crown princes´ for generations with his wife. “Did you capture the Pretender or failed to do so?”

“We managed to capture him just well” he answered, drinking some wine from a pitcher with the form of a dragon. “He is in the dungeons awaiting trial. And his wife and daughter are being kept under guard in separate chambers. We also managed to capture his Hand and some of his sons.”

“Ah” Aurane lost control of his temper for a moment, his eyes reflecting the hate he was feeling burning inside his heart for a second. “Well, I would like to see them later, so he can see the situation he is in. I suppose that he keeps calling himself the only true ruler of the Seven Kingdoms.”

“Yes, he does” Monford sighed. “You should have told us from before, we could have prepared better for the trap if we had known. When did you met Queen Daenerys and her husband, by the way? During one of your travels?”

“Yes, when I met Lysandra”

“Why didn´t you bring them here?”

“They were right where they were supposed to be” he shrugged. “But they allowed me to try my luck with one of the dragons they hatched. And I got lucky… along with my darling wife. We raised our dragons in Driftmark… and I will say it was a pain to keep their presence hidden, especially when they grew up large enough for their screeches to be heard in the whole island.”

“Returning to that, I know that you are probably already conscious of this, but you are the first rider of House Velaryon since the Dance. And it would be better if… the dragon was kept in the family too. I´m not saying that we should steal from House Targaryen…”

“You are saying that my children should marry into the Velaryons, perhaps even that Monterys should break his own betrothal in favor of one with a future daughter of ours.”

“Would you be willing to?”

“I´m not opposed, brother, but you should keep the betrothal for now. Gaelys Celtigar is going to be ready to birth children much earlier than a babe that hasn´t even been born. And our House doesn´t have a big number since old Lucerys´ fleet was destroyed in the Storm that saw our Queen being born.”

“In that you are right.”

“Well, then let´s stay at that. And if something happens in the future, we might go through with your plan.” He got up, helping his wife up too.

“Where are you going?”

“To the dungeons” his expression hardened, the same as Lysandra´s. “There is someone there that I need to see apart from the Usurper´s brother.”

It was true, both of his statements. He wouldn´t mind if Monterys ended up marrying his Laena again. Despite the difference in ages, his nephew had made his little daughter happy and his grandchildren were the only thing that lifted his heart after his little girl was murdered. As they went down, hand in hand, they steeled themselves to meet the murderer of their dear daughter. They need to see him, jailed and desperate…

“Who are you?” Ser Davos Seaworth asked, putting himself in front of his children, shielding them the best he could. Aurane´s and Lysandra´s cold expressions landed on him. They pity him a bit, the man was honorable despite his low birth and a better knight that many, an honest man that had been pushed into a world that wasn´t for him… a pity he hadn´t been able to teach that to his sons.

“Devan Seaworth” he said, his gaze landing on the terrified boy whose adult-self had sent the poison that ended Laena Velaryon´s life. And many others. He couldn´t feel pity for him, as he knew the ambitious and remorseless man he had grown to be. The second Seaworth Lord of the Rainwood had done many terrible things in to gain power, fitting right in with the rest of the Raven´s Small Council. So much that in the streets, he was called Devan the Cruel, as those who still mentioned his low origins normally died a horrible death.

“What do you want with him?”

“Nothing much, Ser Davos” he said, probably colder than the Wall his Prince liked little to talk about. “Only to tell you that I wished you have taught your sons your famous honesty and honor. Perhaps in that way, they would have had better lives.”

“Don´t you dare…”

“It´s just a warning, something I should have given someone dear to me before she was sent off to marriage and died poisoned” he turned around. It was over, Devan would never be able to rise high and that was a worse punishment for the ambitious boy than death. And if he tried... “Be well, Ser Davos.”

Aurane and Lysandra left the dungeons, already eager for the moment their daughter´s murderer tried something to punish him with death. They couldn´t stain the reputation of House Targaryen now by executing a mere boy, especially not when the Mad King and his fascination with fire was still so remembered. As they got up, they prepared themselves for something else. The Queen and Prince had given them permission to judge Stannis Baratheon and execute him before they arrived. As he stood near his brother, in the stairs in front of the empty throne of Dragonstone, he wondered if the Usurper´s brother was going to go down as he had done the last time.

“Lord Stannis Baratheon, you stand here accused of treason against the rightful ruler, Daenerys of House Targaryen, and her husband, Lucerys of House Targaryen…”

“They are not my rulers, you traitor” Stannis said. “I´m the rightful King of the Seven Kingdoms, successor of my brother Robert, who won the Iron Throne with the right of Conquest!! Those who you name Queen and Prince are merely an exiled daughter of a Mad King and a bastard born of a mad prince and a northern harlot.”

“It seems that you haven´t realized yet the situation you are in, LORD Stannis” Monford continued, as Aurane and Lysandra stood to the side. The Baratheon glared at them with a fury worthy of his family words. It was obvious that the news about who the dragon riders that ruined his plans had been. “Robert Baratheon won his Rebellion, that´s true, but he claimed the throne because, with Viserys and Daenerys Targaryen in exile, he was the closest male relative to the Targaryens through his grandmother Rhaelle Targaryen.”

“It was the right of Conquest!! Which makes me the heir to the Iron Throne!!” he answered, screaming at the Lords of the Narrow Sea, most of them of valyrian descend. “And even if I were to fall, my daughter and brother…”

“Your daughter is being held hostage at this very castle, after her attempted flee failed. And your brother Renly has been a prisoner in Highgarden for months already” Aurane declared, smiling with satisfaction. “You see, the Queen gained the allegiance of Olenna and Willas Tyrell a long time ago.”

“Traitors, the fucking Tyrells…”

“That isn´t going to bring you many friends amongst those loyal to the true Queen and Prince, Lord Stannis, not that being the Usurper´s brother isn´t already going to…” the Velaryon admiral said in a pitiful tone that brought laughs to some of the present people. “I would suggest that…”

“Shut up, bastard dog, and let your betters talk.”

“It seems that there is no way to make you change your traitorous ways” Monford intervened in that moment, lowering his head.
“So I, Lord Monford Velaryon of Driftmark, in the name of Queen Daenerys of House Targaryen and Prince Lucerys of House Targaryen, hereby sentence you to die.”

Aurane had to say, it was a true spectacle, seeing Stannis being dragged to the headsman and for his head to be taken, his last words being that the headsman do it already. The moment his head was put on a spike for everyone to see, the Targaryen banners were raised again in Dragonstone. In that moment, he felt like a true conqueror, like the ancestors he shared not only with Monford, but with the Queen and the Prince. Because he was also of the dragonblood, blood of the Queen who never was, Addam and Alyn Velaryon and Baela the Defiant (much before Daena gained that name, Baela was that). The banners were received with cheers from everyone, the louder from the ones who maned his brother´s fleet.

“The Old, the Truth, the Brave” he saluted.

-In Pentos-

Robb sighed as he tried to refresh himself and Grey Wind. Theon had gone somewhere with Ser Wendel to restock the ship after their supplies run short in the way to the North. He had the inkling that Lucerys had something to do with that, but he didn´t want to blame his bro… cousin without proof. He sighed, wishing that things return to the past and the sarcastic and mocking Prince became his brother Jon again. Why had he let his mother send Jon to the Wall? Why hadn´t he done anything else for him, secure a place for him in Winterfell? Kept him apart from Daenerys Targaryen and anyone who could discover his true origin? Why…

“Robb” Theon suddenly barged in.

“What?” he asked, turning from his wolf towards him.

“There are news from across the Narrow Sea” the Ironborn said with a scared expression. “The Targaryen banners have been raised over Dragonstone and the Blackwater is burning with wildfire. And dragons, Robb, dragons…”

“I already know that Lucerys has dragons”

“More dragons, Robb, and they were the ones that burned the wildfire and caused several loses not only to the Lannisters, but to the Baratheons” his eyes widened. “Robb, Stannis Baratheon is dead. And they said… they said that his brother and daughter are also prisoners in their way to Volantis or something like that.”

Robb bit his lip, tasting blood. Exactly what was Lucerys playing at? Why hiding the existence of more dragons and allowing them residence so far away from him? And why was Daenerys allowing that? Nothing made sense. Specially because… because when he ordered the attack, there was no way that his cousin knew that they had rescued Lord Stark. Had he… been willing to sacrifice Ned like that? The man who raised him? That was not the Jon he knew, the one he was raised with… but there were so many things that had changed. And now… now he had to return as fast as he could. Before it was too late.

“Tell Ser Wendel that we depart now, I need to be back at Winterfell as soon as possible.”

Chapter Text

Tyrion Lannister gritted his teeth in a way that would have made Stannis Baratheon proud… if that man could feel proud of anything. Well, he certainly couldn´t now. The head of the man had been sent to the Red Keep in a box along with a taunt that could have as well come from Lucerys Targaryen or his dammed wife, but came in the handwritting of Aurane Velaryon… the pain in the head he currently had. He knew he surely should have thought about him before, about all of the Fourteen Flames, specially after the taking of Volantis had been so easy for the Targaryens… which indeed suggested that Donyphos Paenymion knew what had happened in the future and decided to betray the other Triarchs… also the issue of Daemon Sand beheading the Mountain with a sword he shouldn´t yet have… Caraxes´ Grace… in which his damn father now had his sights on. Because apparently a single Valyrian sword couldn´t be enough when everyone else seemed to have been gifted one.

Returning to the issue at hand, the arrival of the head of Stannis Baratheon, which should have been an occasion of celebration for House Lannister, had been accompanied with the news that not only Shireen Baratheon but Princess Myrcella had been taken as hostages by the Targaryens, whose banners now flew over Dragonstone again, and were on their way to Volantis right this moment. Cersei screamed that it couldn´t be true, ordered a search for her daughter in the entire Keep, then the entire city, but there was no sign of Myrcella anywhere. Then they found, in the same coffer Stannis´ head had arrived, two Targaryen banners enveloping two women´s manes… or two girls. One was black, clearly from Shireen Baratheon and the other was exactly the same Lannister gold as Cersei´s, which means…

“But how could any of us have something to do with the kidnapping of Princess Myrcella?” Prince Oberyn asked, clearly in a good mood. “She is betrothed to my dear nephew, which would give us honor and mend the relationships between our Houses. What reason would we have to sabotage that?”

Tyrion wanted to scream at his face that he knew full well that the marriage would never take place, but he couldn´t do it in a room full of both fine trained warriors, a magician and Targaryen loyalists. Besides, save for a few, there was the possibility that Dorne hadn´t completely aligned with the Targaryens yet. But of course, those vipers had closed bands together when they heard that Cersei was demanding the heads of one or the other for the kidnapping of her daughter like the madwoman she really was. They were lucky that Tywin had returned to the city fast enough to reign his daughter in, or even Tyrion´s head would have rolled. Apparently, the situation in the Riverlands was under control now that the Stormlands wouldn´t move without a Baratheon ordering them to… and the only one they knew was alive was a prisoner of the Targaryens, unless you count the bastards Cersei was passing as trueborn Baratheons… the Targaryens that now had a spearhead directed to the heart of the Seven Kingdoms by holding Dragonstone… and they couldn´t attack because of the damn dragons, even using wildfire against them would be suicide…

He looked again at the dornish delegation, who seemed to be secretly enjoying this. He was sure that at least Daemon Sand, if not Gerold and Sarella Dayne, had something to do with the disappearance of Myrcella from Maegor´s Holdfast. It wouldn´t be the first time the Bastard of Godsgrace had done a cover operation like that. His weapon might be enormous and eye catching, but that was as deceiving as his abilities to infiltrate and extract a desired prey from it´s hiding place, no matter how well protected it was. It happened to Cletus Ironwood, who silently disappeared into the night and didn´t appeared for months until his body was sent to his father with a note of Daemon Sand about exactly how he had kidnapped his son and his head, a terror expression on it, was found on Arianne Martell´s tomb. So he didn´t put anything besides that one. If he was capable of that and more to avenge the Sun Princess, then what would he not do for her survival? The same with Gerold and Sarella Dayne. They might have been parents, but Tyrion wouldn´t put it past them to do anything for their own future children´s survival. The Darkstar had even hurt Myrcella before, leaving her marked for the rest of her life, and while he had softened after gaining a wife and a daughter of his own, that doesn´t mean he wouldn´t put anyone six feet under to protect that. In fact, by the way he was looking at him while he sipped lemon water, Tyrion was sure he would. The witch he had for a wife too.

“Perhaps you should look another place. Haven´t House Lannister made a lot of enemies lately?” Prince Oberyn continued, as if he wasn´t enjoying the situation that the lions found themselves in. “Like the whole North?”

“The North hasn´t moved from where they are.”

“Oh, are you sure of that?”

“The escape of Eddard Stark from the Red Keep doesn´t have anything to do with this, from what I have heard. In fact, if Varys is right, he is not even Lord of the North anymore. His Lords replaced him with his son” which was a more benign destiny than the one he had last time in Tyrion´s book. “But that´s not what we are talking about.”

“No, we are here because you couldn’t keep a single girl safe while your father left you in charge… Lord former Hand” why couldn´t the Mountain had squashed that viper this time too? He would have paid to see that happen, especially because his life wasn´t on the line this time. “But truly, you should see another way. All of those capable of fighting from my delegation were on their assigned posts, doing exactly what they should do. And my dear daughters were not exception… unless you are talking about Tyene and Sarella, who were with your sister. I´m sur the Queen and thousands of ladies could corroborate it.”

Yes, but that didn´t mean anything when you can use water magic to the level that little Sphinx can. With her help, Gerold Dayne and Daemon Sand could have a perfect alibi while kidnapping the princess… though he wouldn´t have a way to prove it either. Everyone thought magic was only a trick, they weren´t prepared for someone like Melisandre… much less like Sarella Dayne, whose magic was on another level. It was only of the reasons why Arianne Dayne, daughter of a bastard no matter that she was the only survivor of the Martells and a mere landed Knight, was chosen to marry someone like Daemon Targaryen.

But right now…

“You can´t kill the entire dornish delegation” he tried to explain his maddened sister. He wondered why his father wasn´t the one to deal with the madwoman… perhaps he had other things to do, perhaps he was merely trying to pressure Gerold Dayne or Daemon Sand into giving him their swords. “That would be considered an act of war.”

“I don´t care for what those vipers or the cripple from Sunspear…”

“We have enough in hand with…”

“The Stormlands have gotten quiet!! And the Targaryens are cowering in Volantis!!”

“Haven´t you seen the dragons patrolling Dragonstone? The dragon banners over it!! They have a spear pointed right at us!!”

“There is only two of them, and rather small ones. Father has said that dragons haven´t won battles in three thousand years, there is no reason for them to start winning them again now that they have returned to this world” that was the most foolish thing that he had heard. Specially after he had seen what dragons could really do in battle. “A well aimed scorpion bolt could…”

“The dragons are not the only ones we have to worry about” Tywin Lannister entered in that moment, followed by Ser Kevan and Varys. “According to what we have just been informed, the Targaryens not only got themselves hostages, but allies in Westeros. And I´m not talking only about the Lords of the Narrow Sea and the Dragonseeds they got themselves” he pointed at Varys. “The Spider has something to say.”

“Apparently, Robb Stark has gotten out of the North with Theon Greyjoy. He did some detours to mislead interested parts, but I managed to find his final destination” the eunuch smiled. “He has gone to see his cousin Lucerys in Volantis. And he apparently got quite the reception. Even the Prince Consort sung for the guests.”

“I´m sure that´s not much”

“Oh, I wouldn´t be so sure. It´s said that Prince Lucerys didn´t just inherited his sire´s famous beauty, but his equally famous musical skills. He hasn´t played
the harp yet, but, you, my Queen, as someone who has heard his voice, must commend his singing skill.”

Cersei looked like she had swallowed a whole lemon, but Tyrion had an even bitter drink to swallow when he remembered that night. He still could savor the humiliation of being mislead by the most unfit for the game person he had ever met… though Lucerys Targaryen was not Jon Snow. The same body, different people. Lucerys Targaryen was someone who had learned, someone who could play to their same level, who didn´t care to descend to his moral level to get what he wanted… and to keep those that he loved alive. One could say that those same loved ones were his weak spot, but unfortunately each of them was just as dangerous as him and he couldn´t touch them now. Daenerys specially.

“On the other side, we have managed to identify the dragonriders that have currently taken residence as castellan of Dragonstone in representation of the Targaryens” the essosi continued. “It´s Aurane Waters and his wife Lysandra Rogare.”

“What?” Cersei asked. “How could a bastard and his foreign whore get…”

“Cersei” warned Tywin before looking back to the master of whispers. “Continue, Varys”

“Aurane Waters, who the Targaryens apparently legitimized as Velaryon, is the half-brother of the current Lord Monford Velaryon and a direct descendant of Baela Targaryen and Lord Alyn Velaryon… which in turn means that he is a descendant of both Daemon Targaryen, rider of Caraxes, and Rhaenys Targaryen, the Queen who never was, rider of Meleys. In fact, he is even a descendant of Rhaenyra Targaryen because one of the past Velaryon Lords married a Longwaters, thus he is a descendant of Princess Elaena Targaryen.”

“And the whore?”

“It´s not well known and neither is it recognized, but when she left for Lys, Lara Rogare was pregnant with a last child of her husband. A child that the weakened Rogare family protected with all their power. Including… marrying the Targaryen way. From what I could gather, Lysandra Rogare is a child of that line.”

“And now she married a descendant of the Queen who never was… and became a dragonrider” Cersei grabbed the cup of wine Tyrion had just served himself. “Along with that husband of hers, the bastard…”

“They should be easy to turn to our cause, if we are smart enough” Kevan suggested. “Hugh Hammer and Ulf the White showed how easy it could be for a dragonseed to change their allegiance from the one who gave them the dragons to the one who offered them the most. We can even offer Aurane Velaryon and his wife Driftmark to sweet the deal, considering that Lord Monford is a traitor and Monterys Velaryon easy to dispose of.”

Tyrion wanted to shake his head, knowing exactly how mistaken that way of thinking was. Aurane and Lysandra Velaryon could not be faithful to each other, but they were more than faithful to the Targaryen couple. And even if that wasn´t like that, he was pretty sure that they wanted to see Casterly Rock reduced to a bunch of molten rock and gold as much as they wanted to see House Seaworth brought low. Because, as much as Devan Seaworth, the master of ships after Davos Seaworth died, was the one that actually ordered Laena Velaryon´s death, it was Tyrion that provided the means because he wanted the woman gone. Of course, he didn´t mean for the woman´s children to go completely dragonriddding insane on Westeros, but… well, that was something that happened. And that was something the woman in question´s parents certainly knew and won´t forget. Which means, two current dragonriders wanted him dead and he should have taken care of them before. Or burry himself somewhere he wouldn´t be found, which, considering Sarella Dayne, didn´t exist at all.

“Meanwhile, we should be considering the possible alliances that leaves us” Tywin returned to that. “With Sansa Stark blocked, both by her brother´s possible allegiance to the Targaryens and her betrothal to Daryn Hornwood, heir to House Hornwood, we should look at another place for possible future Queens. Which leaves us entirely free to pursue the Tyrells.”

“My son, the King… to marry the descendant of a steward?”

“The daughter of the Warden of the South and Lord of Highgarden, possibly the only alliance of a reasonable station that remains to us with Shireen Baratheon a prisoner of the Targaryen rulers of Volantis, Sansa Stark having fled from your custody without you being able to do something along with her sister and no Arryn girls to marry Tommen too… even if we don´t consider the possible madness Robert Arryn could have inherited from his mother.”

And what a nutcase Lysa Tully Arryn was. Enough for only the Freys to want to mingle with the Tullys now that her fame had spread around the Riverlands. Then again Roslyn Tully had managed to already push out twin boys for Edmure Tully. Of course, they all called them red weasels, but the Tullys already had heirs and that was something good. Something that Tyrion currently lacked despite his relief for that. Lanna was definitely too young to have children yet, that Tywin Frey was was respectful enough, or afraid enough of his formidable grandmother, not to touch her until she was old enough to bear children safely was great. Returning to Robert Arryn and his insane mother, Lysa Tully hadn´t produced any girls that could marry his nephew. And even if she had done so, no one would want to marry them for fear of their mother´s madness being passed on. The Lannister girls that could be considered were also too young and he, as well as Tywin, would trust a rattlesnake before Arianne Martell or Asha Greyjoy. Normally he would suggest they wait for some of them to mature and marry Tommen, who would be guidded into being a better King by himself, to Laena Velaryon but… her OWN parents would trust a rattlesnake more than a Lannister, a cobra before TYRION LANNISTER….

He sighed. His father was right, they needed the Tyrells. Which means, unfortunately, that he needed to keep his father alive instead of turning him into a pincushion, no matter how satisfied that would be. It was sad to recognize it, but Tywin Lannister was the only being in this whole earth that could scare Cersei into not burning Margaery Tyrell to ashes along with the whole Sept of Baelor with wildfire. So he would have to keep his own claws hidden for now, waiting for the next moment to turn his father into the corpse he deserved to be, giving him the humiliating death he should have always had. But of course, now he was going to have to be a little bit more… discreet…

“Tyrion”

“Brother!! I didn´t hear about your arrival!!” he turned towards Jaime with the most charming smile he could muster. He was aware that his brother was not his nor his sister´s unconditional ally now… no matter, he loved him still. He will make sure to avenge him in the end. “I heard that Brienne is expecting a child again. Congratulations.”

“Thank you… though I should hold that back. I heard that you lost my daughter”

“Isn´t Jocelyn safe in Casterly Rock?”

“My other daughter” Jaime´s tone made him aware that he wasn´t up to games. “The only thing that keeps me from separating your head from your body is
that we are blood… and that I know that Lucerys Targaryen is a man of honor.”
Tyrion bit his tongue and refrained himself from telling his brother exactly how much his beloved silver Prince´s only remained son had changed after becoming Regent for his eldest son. The Prince Regent of Volantis was truly someone who knew how to play the game, enough to cheat a whole nation to believe that Rhaegar Targaryen was Jaehaerys the Wise come again in Volantis… he saw exactly through his deception, which allowed his son to take the throne so easily. And to think the boy continued to take his father´s advice and no one would bat an eyelash at that!! Not even when he did it publicly, after Aerys Saeragyon died and his father, the former Regent was seen screaming and crying in mad grieving!!!

“Of course, brother, of course” he answered. “But I will have to ask you to bear with me for some more time, considering that we are soon going to go somewhere together.”

“What?”

“I´m pretty sure our Lord Father is going to ask the both of us or at least one of us to do a trip to Highgarden to negotiate your son´s marriage to Margaery Tyrell. He would normally send Baelish, but… you know, Arya Stark cut his throat before he could put a dagger on her father´s neck.”

“I don´t want Jocelyn, Myrcella, or any of my children, even the new baby, on harm´s way because of what we are going to do.”

“Of course, brother, of course”

Tyrion was already planning. He was technically no longer the heir of Casterly Rock, having a niece ahead of him, but that hadn´t stopped their grandfather, no? And even if he decided to keep Jocelyn… she was a formidable woman, by the way, Westeros would be made a better place to have her instead of Cersei as Queen… but he knew that wasn´t made to be so. On another note, he wouldn´t let Rhaenyra Targaryen or any of her relatives who had burned Casterly Rock into a pile of molten rock and gold to the ground become Queen, so Margaery Tyrell should it be… he shuddered just by imagining Alyssa, Dyana or Lyanna Targaryen with anyone remotely like Tommen… they would make Maegor the Cruel and Tyanna of the Tower look like the nicest couple in the whole known world. Specially because any of the four women, Rhaenyra included, would murder their husband at the very wedding night and become the sole ruler of Westeros, Cersei be dammed. Tywin would just get used to that, specially with how much he seemed to have taken to Jocelyn… being frank, the girl could walk and talk coherently before any toddler he had ever seen, without being a dwarf, so it was practically a taken. He wouldn´t be surprised if Tywin Lannister refused to let Jocelyn get married and name her his heir despite any younger brother she had. Not that he would have anything against it, Lanna had given him plenty of grandsons last time. And Jocelyn was a magnificent Lady of Sapphire Island, who would make an even more magnificent Lady of Casterly Rock… so long as she didn´t marry anyone descended from Daenerys and Lucerys Targaryen. Surely his father would agree, no?

“And Cersei? Aren´t you worried about, you know, the Sept exploding in a fucking green flame that will remain us all of Aerys Targaryen?”

“You don´t trust our father to control her?”

“I don´t trust you around him”

“Oh, don´t worry, brother, while Cersei is around, our father is going to be safe from me so long as he doesn´t put me on a dungeon” he answered. “And even so, I´m pretty sur that my line will survive. Don´t you know that Lanna had eight children?”

“You are disgusting”

“Jocelyn had six with her Penrose husband”

“I will talk to her about reproduction and the troubles childbirth could bring when it´s time, now I want to make sure that Cersei doesn´t make my son a widower before he manages to deflower his bride… or that Tommen being made king before he is ready doesn´t kill us all, especially when he is to face dragons.” Jamie frowned. “Is he going to face dragons?”

“Oh, without a doubt”

Though he doubted they were going to be worse than Daemon Targaryen. Or Alyssa, Dyanna and Lyanna Targaryen. Those four were… well, the maddest things they could find this side of Aerys. Though they weren´t exactly insane, only… rebel. In the same way as Daena the Defiant… only that without any bastards. Tyrion was sure that Dyanna and Lyanna at least knew how to use moon tea, as for Alyssa… well, he didn´t think she would be having any children at all, at least not while liking it. She was too much like her uncle Daemon to like anything sexual.

“So we are going to go to Highgarden”

“Yes… or at least one of us is”

-In another place-

“So, the Lannisters are trying to make an alliance with us”

“You sound like you don´t like it”

Willas smiled at Talla as he was fitted for clothing that would fit the mourning Flame than the heir of Highgarden. On another way, Talla Tyrell, formerly Tarly, didn´t known how much he despised House Lannister. That she was pregnant with their first child, a future Lord of Highgarden hopefully, didn´t change that. He had made an effort in the mask he had privately ordered, the likeness of the one he used as one of the Prince Regent´s and Emperor of Volantis´ former advisor in finances… because he was the best.

“We need to talk” Garlan said, entering without permission on a chamber that should have only been his own… or Talla´s, when she had the mood. What had made his most proper brother do something like that? “Alone”

“Can you give us some time alone?” he asked the tailors, who left with their jobs already done. They have the measurements for the things he wanted, including the embroidery that he wanted, the roses in gold that would identify him as the Flame whose identity was still not known… and certainly give Tyrion Lannister something to think about now that he was going to be a prisoner of his. “Talla, please, give my brother and me some time alone.”

“Of course” his wife bowed and left. Garlan and Willas were left alone, the two of them looked at each other as if measuring each other. “I will wait for you,
husband”

“She is as good a wife as Leonette”

“Only that she wouldn´t give you as strongest an alliance” he answered as he got down from the stage he was now on. Garlan wasn´t Olenna, he needed as much truth as he could give without giving him a peak of a truth he couldn´t manage. “But I think Leonette is great. She is half Florent, which means she will help you when you take control of the Florent states when then do a move against us.”

“Who says they are going to move against us?”

“When we deny them Margaery, who are the Lannisters to turn to?”

“Are you going to deny them Margaery? I thought the aim of our family was going to give her a crown. The crown of the Queen of the Seven Kingdoms... I know we have talked about it, but then father...”

“That would only end up in flames, with our golden rose burned to death along with everything except for a rose who is half withered and another which is half burned, unable to grow strong.” Willas answered, fitting his clothes even more in front of the mirror. If he wanted to look like the man he once was now that he was practically complete, he was going to need the help of some clothes and a mask that would cover his face… at least for a moment. Until he could show Tyrion Lannister exactly who he was dealing with in Highgarden. “Cersei Lannister would never allow anyone to take the crown of Queen from her.”

“She won´t have an option, not if she wants her golden stag to have descendants”

“Oh, believe me, she would burn that bridge before coming to it” he said as he looked at himself in the polished mirror. Like that, and with the mask he had asked the blacksmith to prepare beforehand, he would be ready to meet the Imp. “With wildfire”

“Are you implying that…”

“Yes, that´s exactly what grandmother and I fear. Which is why we can´t allow Margaery, sadly, to wear a crown. We will have to wait a few generations for that” he said, knowing full well his capabilities. “Do you keep the sword I gave you?”

“Brother…”

“From now on, do it always” he said. “And remember what I said when I gave it to you: It´s name is Queen of Thorns and from the moment it came to my possession, it became the ancestral sword of House Tyrell” Willas explained as if it was nothing. “My leg doesn´t allow me to wield it, so I ask you, brother, would you wield it for me like I wield my mind for the good of our House?”

“Why me?” Garlan asked as he weighted the sword. “Why not Loras? He is the best knight in the family, the most famous…”

“But he is better with the lance than he is with the sword. Besides, his love for Renly Baratheon makes him a liability. His loyalty, sadly, is divided” Willas answered. “So, I ask you again, brother, would you wield it for me, your poor brother who can´t wield it because of his bad leg?”

“It will me be my honor”

-In another place-

“You haven´t killed Devan Seaworth nor his family” Helaena Saeragyon commented as her husband puked next to them in some rocks. Poor First Men heritage people, they were definitely not made to fly. Not like the Valyrian people.

“No… but not for lack of will” Lysandra said as she and Aurane joined hands. “The Devan Seaworth that ordered the death of our daughter doesn´t exist anymore… his younger self is in captivity. And there he will remain until we are sure that he won´t be more than a hedge knight, his father and brothers and even their grandchildren unable to touch our daughter.”

“As it should be”

“I´m glad someone understands it”

“If I could burn the Tallharts now to make sure that they could never touch me or even try to turn their knives against Jacaerys, Tahaegor and… but that´s a distant dream. Daryn Hornwood is still alive and they don´t harbor such dreams yet. Much less when he is to marry a Stark” her mouth frowned. “We should make sure that such a marriage is not blessed with any children.”

“I doubt the Prince would feel threatened by anything spawned by the Mad Wolf of the North”

“She was Queen once, don´t forget that” Helaena secured her prisoners. “Anyway, keep yourselves safe. We can´t lose any dragon so early in the fight. We might have a spear directly at the heart of the Seven Kingdoms, but they aren´t ours yet. And a scorpion bolt was all that was needed to end Queen Rhaenys.”

“We are aware of that”

“Then be careful, Lysandra, and make sure that husband of yours is careful too. You won´t want to lose him and the children he is going to give you so early” Helaena said as she secured her prisoners to Palladia´s seat. “We are going to need to make many stops.”

“Be careful you too then, dear Helaena”

The dragoness she rode was barely big enough to handle more than three passengers. It was lucky enough that both Shireen Baratheon and Myrcella Hill were on the smaller, litter side for women, but she was going to have to make many stops so her dragon could eat and recover. Palladia was a young dragoness, sadly yet too immature and small to lay a clutch herself. They were hopeful that once she was mature enough she could lay the egg for Meleys, for Jacaerys, and some for Helaena´s other children, but that was yet to be seen. Tahaegor had made it well as a Palladin, just like his father. And talking about Palladins…

“Were you able to get what you were looking for?”

“I will have to say, things have developed faster that the first time. Now I actually know what I´m looking for when creating Palladins. And with Larence training them, they are coming up better than the first time” she smirked. “They will be ready”

“For the war or for the Long Night?”

“Let´s hope for both”

Helaena mounted her dragon along with Larence and took Myrcella Hill and Shireen Baratheon with her. When the Lannisters looked for both girls, having sent their undercover agents to Dragonstone, they will find them gone. Of course, there was the possibility that someone talked about Palladia, but they could always confuse her with one of the Queen´s dragons. And she wouldn´t mind to become a target. After all, she had been one the first time, when she married the exiled heir of the Hornwood. She died that time, due to her underestimating the Tallharts… she had learned from that. She won´t underestimate anyone now, much less someone with the reputation of Tywin or Tyrion Lannister.

“Did we get what we want?” Larence asked, apparently having recovered from the nausea spell enough to speak.

“That´s something only the prince and the Queen could say.” Helaena answered.

-In the North-

Just having returned to Winterfell, Robb Stark had been swarmed by demands to meet by the Lords and complains from the same about the way his father, the once revered and respected Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North, had handled things financially. The reason? Apparently, while delivering the Valyrian steel weaponry, Lucerys had made it public knowledge how Eddard Stark had handled his nephew´s inheritance. It had caused an uproar between the Lords of the North because of the debt they were in now. A debt that the Iron Bank had interests in. the only ones that weren´t in an uproar were the cranogmen, because apparently they weren´t part of it or something like that… he couldn´t understand that well, but it was probably because his aunt Lyanna had trusted Howland Reed with Lucerys´ financial issues than her own brother.

“Well, at least the Lords accepted to pay the part they owed according to the aid they received during last Winter” Robb said as he received the report from the maester.

“Considering that they all received a part of Prince Lucerys Targaryen´s inheritance as aid for the past Winter, they considered it fair to pay their fair share according to what financial aid they received to purchase food” master Luwin said, which was a relief to both the old scholar and the current Lord of Winterfell. “Unfortunately, this only covers a minimum part of the debt that it´s owed to the Prince and the Lords refuse to give more financial aid to Winterfell. And they are, in fact, very upset that the Lord Paramount of the North incurred in such a great debt.”

“I have already exiled my mother and replaced my father before time because of that.”

“Yes, but they are questioning the competence of House Stark to lead the North thanks to that now” Luwin continued. “The ones that are the most vocal about that are the Boltons and those that are aligned with them.”

“Why haven´t I heard about this until now?” Robb asked, very upset.

“Because they aren´t very vocal, even the Boltons” the maester answered. “You might not like this, but the fact that Lucerys Targaeryen is the legitimate heir if
House Stark is put aside has protected you and your siblings from rebellion. The Lords are aware that if they try to unseat you and your family, the Prince of Volantis might come and try to claim Winterfell for himself. And he has the biggest, oldest dragon in existence.”

Robb gritted his teeth. He didn´t like it at all. He had always imagined the future in a way, him in the throne of Winterfell and Jon protecting him as a captain of guard or something like that. A subordinate. But now… they were very different people than the ones they were when he had that dream. Lucerys Targaryen was a different person to Jon Snow. And the way to protect him was very different. One wrong step and his aunt Lyanna´s line might end up taking over the North… and not only because of their dragons. He couldn´t allow that, specially knowing how much his cousin had embraced his Valyrian roots over the northern ones.

“What could we do to avoid financial disaster in the soon future? Or the North to be taken over by the Targaryens?”

“Well, my Lord, considering the opposition and support the Lords are going to give to our plans, this are the options we have.”

They were not very good options, but they allowed them to survive. And perhaps fight the upcoming Long Night, if his cousin was gracious enough to give them a time of grace during it. At least they were not in a war right now, that was costly. He hoped that it stayed like that, he wouldn´t want to get involved in a conflict while having such a debt. The Iron Bank and the Targaryens were not someone to be trifled with, after all.

Chapter Text

Tyrion Lannister didn´t like it at all, being sent in the place of Baelish to negotiate an alliance with the Tyrells… though Baelish had returned in one piece, so he should too. Then again, he had brought the bones of Eddard Stark with him as a sign of piece when he heard that Lady Catelyn was also trying that in Renly´s camp. He brought nothing like that, no Ned Stark´s remains or complete, neither was Lady Stark on a visit to a war camp… nor Lady Stark any longer. One of the last things he heard while in King´s Landing was that Robb Stark was forced to banish his mother from the North when the Lords found out that she had served herself from their beloved Lady Lyanna´s son heritage with full hands… and amazed a great debt in the process that would cripple the finances of House Stark for at least a few years if not generations. Obviously, it was one of the least hard punishments they could expect she received after that happened. And her husband had lost the trust of his lords because of that, being forced to step down as Lord of Winterfell, giving the seat to his son. They had completely forgotten that the people who probably had a hand in their financial problem were the Black Minister of Volantis, whoever he is, and Howland Reed, which was left in charge of Prince Lucerys´ financial assets until his adulthood by Lyanna Stark… another show that she didn´t trust her brother at all. Smart Lady.

On another, related note, the return of Catelyn Stark to Riverrun in the onset of her childbearing years in such circumstances had been a great shame for House Tully. That along coupled with the recognized madness of Lysa Arryn, it was going to be very hard for any of the spawn of Edmure Tully to have a good match. Or any of the future generations. There had been whispers of that being a consequences of their Whent blood, that had inherited Harrenhal for being blood relatives of the Lothstones. They said that it was madness like the one which supposedly plagued Danelle Lothstone. Anyway, from what Varys had heard, with an old lady accustomed to a certain lifestyle and no marriage possibilities as she was still technically married and a history of madness in their blood, House Tully was in for a few rough years. He doubted they could get anyone but ladies from small houses of the Riverlands, who had few options, and daughters of merchants to marry those sons of Edmure Tully. And let´s not talk about the daughters… anyone would be wary of them inheriting the madness of one aunt or the spending tendencies of the other.

He had heard few things from his natal Westerlands, except for his father´s grumblings about Sybelle Westerling again sending a letter to betroth her eldest son to Jocelyn now that she was going to have a sibling, possibly a brother. He didn´t know why the woman continued to try, Tywin Lannister would give his beloved granddaughter to the Martells before allowing her to marry such a ruined House. Though he might consider marrying one of Lanna´s descendants, once she had them, something that made him want to puke. Talking about that, now that the mines had been reopened, Castamere was doing really well, something that he thinks was more his aunt Genna´s doing than anyone else. That and her control over her useless husband and sons, Tywin Frey having inherited his mind from her and being willing to listen to whatever she had to say. He was going to be a good Lord and a good husband to his daughter… better than the last one, perhaps.

As for the Martells, they weren´t making one suspicious movement for now. Though they might do it once the Targaryens have children to negotiate with. He still thought that they would marry their children the same way as before, but once their grandchildren started to appear, he wouldn´t put it beyond Sarella Dayne to organize a marriage between one of her children and Arianne´s heir and perhaps even of Rhaenyra with a sibling of that one. Considering the need of alliances, the Targaryens will have to search somewhere else than their own family tree for spouses. As Lucerys Targaryen already had connections to the North and the Starks on a leash, he doubted they would look towards them… or towards the Baratheons or the Lannisters or the Tullys.

Which meant they could turn to the Tyrells, someone they needed if they want to survive. He knew that his uncle Kevan thought that he could turn Aurane Velaryon and Lysandra Rogare against the Targaryens, but he knew that it was impossible. They needed the Tyrells more than ever, as they were the only great House of Westeros with an army strong enough to turn tides in this war, not compromised by a crippling debt to the Targaryens and the means both in food and coin to help the war. Which meant that they will have to beg for Margaery Tyrell´s hand in marriage. At least this time they could be sure that she is a maiden untouched, as she hadn´t married Renly Baratheon. As unattractive as she was to a man like Renly, there were plenty of men from his preference that were parents, so that was placed in doubt… though the real questions was why they hadn´t rushed to marry her to Renly. Last they knew of him, he had been on his way to Highgarden, before dropping out of the face of the world along with Loras Tyrell and those that were with him. Perhaps… no, definitely there was someone there that knew what had happened in the past. Which means that he should be prepared to deal with someone that was greatly averse to that and with enough power to stop the wedding and probably banish Renly from Highgarden, leaving him as easy prey for the Targaryens on his way to the Stormlands or even from others. And they knew that Renly was going to lose rather fast… and probably what Cersei had done to his of her family… no, to HER family. Because the only person who could have done this was…

“Lord Tyrion, welcome to Highgarden” he was received jovially by the Fat Flower when he arrived. From the beginning, he knew that the pompous Lord of Highgarden was not the one to pull the strings. He wasn´t even truly the Lord of Highgarden in anything other than name. “We were expecting you.”

“Thank you, Lord Tyrell” he answered, returning the greeting. “I´m glad to finally be here. Let´s go inside, we have several things to talk about.”

“Yes, we do”

His eyes scanned the scattering line of Tyrells until they landed on the sharp ones of someone, the hate obvious in her eyes despite her extensive political expertise. No one else had any reaction to his presence that could be considered different. Willas Tyrell was smiling as he helped his pregnant wife to return to her room. A great move, he had to recognize, meant to keep Lord Tarly loyal once a grandson of his was in position to become Lord of Highgarden. They won´t be able to count on the man to betray his liege lords so easily this time. Garlan Tyrell did the same with his Fossoway wife, while Margaery merely smiled at him with that smile that had charmed King´s Landing. Such a cunning girl… too bad she never expected the amount of madness Cersei possessed.

“Lord Tyrion, before anything, Lady Olenna has invited you to a private meeting in her personal gardens” a servant announced once he had finished refreshing himself in his assigned rooms. “Please, accompany me.”

“With pleasure”

Well, this confirmed his suspicions. Olenna Tyrell was the one that returned, which didn´t really benefitted him much. Olenna had lived until the end, until she had lost everyone in her family, nearly everyone she loved. And many of them had been killed by someone with the Lannister name. Not him, which was why he thought his head wasn´t separated from his body the moment he stepped a foot in Highgarden, but his mad sister. It also meant that the Tyrells were not going to be that agreeable with the betrothal now. Not if the famous Queen of Thorns didn´t agree with this. But that wasn´t anything that couldn´t be solved with the disposal of Cersei. After all, nothing but the death of his sister would satisfy Olenna enough to agree to this, and not only for Margaery´s protection or the rest of her family´s safety. He knew because he had felt that pain of losing someone dear. Not only Jamie, but his grandsons that had been lost to the Targaryens… and the fury. So he would sweeten the deal giving Olenna her revenge.

“Lord Tyrion Lannister”

“Lady Olenna Tyrell”

What a tense greeting, which only put more weight into his theory. As he sat down at the other side of the table, he allowed the old woman to serve the wine and cut the cheese, taking the first drink and the first bite. He was a bit worried about being poisoned, but, then again, the Tyrells weren´t the Freys. And Olenna was much subtler than Walder Frey, smarter too. She wouldn´t poison him in the open. No, she would wait until he had left her home, so people could speculate on who had it been… or already had someone to blame when he turned up dead in his ship. He needed to give her reasons not to kill him, starting with reminding him he was not the Lannister that she hated.

“Why that look?” he asked. “I know that we might be siblings, but I don´t resemble Jaime or Cersei that much. At least, not as much as they resemble each other” he took a sip from his cup. Arbor Gold… of the same brand that was served in Joffrey´s wedding, the Purple Wedding. What a subtle woman that one had become. “You know that I didn´t have anything to do with what happened to your family. I was on Daenerys´ side all the time while Highgarden was attacked by my siblings.”

“Yet, it was your idea that left Ellaria and Tyene Sand in Lannister hands… also that allowed them to attack Highgarden.”

“A miscalculation, I admit”

“Or an attempt to undermine the Queen that you swore your fealty to” she answered, her eyes not revealing much. “But you were going to do that anyway, no?”

“I didn´t mean to betray Daenerys until she burned down half of King´s Landing with her dragon” he answered quickly. It was not entirely truth, as he had colluded with the Starks before that, but the Tyrells didn´t need to know that. “And if you think Lucerys Targaryen is any better than his wife, then let me tell you that he and his brood turned half of Westeros into a Field of Fire.”

“Not before you were colluded with his Stark cousins to capture his grandson, which ultimately lead to his dead” she continued. “Or handed Devan Seaworth the means underhandedly to eliminate Laena Velaryon… along with several things more.”

“How do you know that?”

“Left” she ordered, extending a hand. A letter was put on it, which was passed to Tyrion by the old woman. He was barely surprised to know that Lucerys Tagaryen already knew that Olenna remembered the past and wanted to get in contact with her, specially considering the changes she had made. “I really didn´t took you for someone who might want to kidnap maidens to force a marriage, but you truly are your father´s son.”

“That was a mistake” it was the sincere truth. The biggest mistake of his life.

“You only learned that after your precious Casterly Rock was burned into a new Harrenhal by some of those maidens angry father and the maidens themselves.” She smirked. “Though I have to say that I´m impressed… with them. I mean, I have read of Targaryen women ridding their dragons in combat, but of the Wrath of Alyssa, Dyanna and Lyanna Targaryen… don´t you think either of them would be a better match for my future descendants?”

“Those mad dragonesses? Whoever marries them would be as dead as your idiot of a husband… or turned into a puppet ruler for them. Don´t delude yourself, Lady Olenna, they are not Cersei, who is only capable of low cunning and sleeping with everybody. They are another kind of beast entirely, with dragons at their backs.”

“Better, more smarts would do well for this family. Specially with the kind of reputation both Luthor and Mace have given to our House. Lord Scattermind and Lord Puffish… I have more, so I guess Westeros too” she chewed on some cheese. “Let´s be clear, Lord Tyrion, as we have much to talk about right now. Firstly, why should my family ally ourselves with yours? Considering what happened last time, with a very similar match.”

“Because we can make your Golden Rose Queen of Westeros, what you have always wanted. Didn´t you raise Margaery to become the new Queen Alysanne? Something that is never going to happen if you align yourself with the Targaryens, who already decided the matches of their children.”

“Oh, but right now they have much more to offer. Dragons… and are not holding the leash of the North? Shamed House Tully to silence? Besides… aren´t they the owners of at least one of the debts, massive debts of the Iron Throne?” alright, call him impressed. He didn´t think anyone else but him and Varys knew about that. “Yes, I know they bought through the Iron Bank the debts the Baratheons owned all the trading cartels from Essos, then sold the debts to the Iron Bank for a good prize, which makes it sound like you are in more troubles than you admit. Why hasn´t your father looked into his chamberpot yet to grab some gold before the Baratheon reign bring the Lannisters down with them?”

“Not as many as you or the dragons want” internally, he was cursing Cersei and Robert Baratheon for their spending. “But can they offer you revenge apart from a possible crown in the future? I´m offering you one now. And your great grandchildren on the Iron Throne, not a possible descendant.”

“Or dead by dragonfire”

“They aren´t going to get that far.”

“I don´t see you do anything against the ones that are on Dragonstone, and they are much smaller than the ones ridden by both Lucerys and Daenerys Targaryen” Olenna pushed the tray of cheese towards him. “I´m giving you the chance to sweeten the deal, despite it already sounding like a bad idea.”

“We have scorpions”

“Drogon and the Cannibal are not Meraxes”

“We are aware, so we have modified them a bit” Tyrion said. “But you are right, I have to offer you something more to sweeten the deal. To make your granddaughter Queen of a Kingdom in debt, especially with the Targaryens, is not precisely the greatest of deals” he cut some of the cheese and ate before continuing. “I´m offering you revenge.”

“Revenge? Against your own family?”

“Please, we know that you don´t hate them all that much. Jaime, perhaps a little, but at your last moment, he did you a favor. He handed you the poison with which you killed yourself and avoided being handed over to Cersei, ending like Ellaria Sand and her daughter” Olenna smiled. "As for my father… you don´t trust him, but you can trust that his love for his legacy will be enough to keep your granddaughter alive so long as she serves his purposes. And by the time she stops serving him, he would already be dead."

“So would I”

“But something tells me that, perhaps not by my hand this time, he will end up dead before you leave this world. Even if not, I´m sure you trust at least your grandson to help my father remember that she is more useful alive than dead.” the dwarf continued. “it was pleasurable enough to make me regret giving up my opportunity to do so again, but being a kinslayer gives too many problems.”

“Sure, but…”

“Oh, Cersei´s head on a silver platter wasn´t even in the question” he said, knowing that this was exactly what the Lady Dowager of Highgarden truly wanted. “I know what it takes you and that you are not entirely sure that my father could control his mad daughter… let me tell you that he can and that´s the only thing that has kept him alive until now.”

“I thought you didn´t want to become a kinslayer again”

“There are ways to get rid of someone and not being blamed for that… and I knew that you wouldn´t agree if Cersei wasn´t dead before or soon after the wedding” he joined his hands. “I will even let do it by yourself, or whoever you want to do it. Use the Strangler, the Tears of Lys, a catspaw, wildfire if you feel like making feel whatever your son and youngest grandchildren felt in those last few moments… whatever you want. Her life is yours to take.”

“Very valiant of you, offering the head of your own sister as a trophy for me, even if her head is never displayed on the walls of the Red Keep or Highgarden…”

“I would gift you a pike from the Red Keep if that´s what you want too, you can mount Cersei´s head on it so long as you don´t display it to the public… for yours and your family´s sake.” He drank more of the wine. It could remind him uncomfortably of the Purple Wedding, but there was no reason to say no to good wine. And it didn´t have the Strangler on it. “But we both know that you would prefer a bottle of wildfire to cook her alive in.”

“Sounds better… but you Lannisters have done my family too much damage to believe in merely words now. Besides” her eyes turned towards the North. “You and I both know that very soon we are going to need the food that House Tyrell and our vassal produce. And not precisely for banquets.”

“I know... Winter is coming, as the Starks like to say, and with it, the Dead.” He shuddered, remembering the White Walkers and their army. “But it´s even more reason for all of us to band behind a strong leader. Tommen might not be that, but once Cersei is taken care of, he will be Regent for him until he comes of age. And Tywin Lannister is strong.”

“Hummm, give me time to considerate it”

“I will stay here a few days…”

“A few months, perhaps, to see how things are going” she smirked. “I know that your father has sent the Lannister fleet under one of his vassals to reconquer Dragonstone. Let´s see how well that has gone before I made a decision. Or how well you fare when the envoys of the Iron Bank arrive to demand the money they are owed… which is much more now that the Targaryens have bought the debt and sold it to them. Let´s wait until then.”

Tyrion spent his time in Highgarden trying to convince Mace Tyrell to act as a Lord for the first time in his life and give Tommen his daughter´s hand in marriage, but the Fat Flower seemed to fear his mother too much to disobey her. The rest of the time, while they were going to the piers with his hands empty, he cursed Lucerys Targaryen for sending that damn letter to the Tyrells and the Black Minister for his financial tricks. Damn, the man was better than Baelish when it came to manipulate finances. He even managed to get sell the debts bought from the cartels to the Iron Bank for an even bigger price than they thought he could, if the letter was to be believed. Now, it was a price that only the Targaryens could pay, with their new industry of Valyrian steel production in Volantis prospering, the material being exported to several other places in Essos for High Prices. He cursed Baelish then for asking those cartels and trading companies to lend them so much money… what was next? Were they going to buy their way to the Iron Throne? Do they really think that it would count as a Conquest like that? If so, House Lannister would have…

“No” his vision blackened out. They have been dinning in an inn before continuing the trip to their ship, but as he dinned, he felt the world fade around him. His companions seemed about to fall asleep… it seemed that Olenna had already made her choice. Damn.

“Lord Tyrion? Lord Tyrion, do you hear me?” he heard when he opened his eyes. But instead of one of his men, he saw Ser Aemon Estermont. What was he doing here? He had been part of Renly´s entourage when… oh, he saw now. Olenna was aligned with her Queen since the beginning. “Can you sit down?”

“I think so” he allowed himself to be seated, feeling a bit nauseated. He was being hold in a dark dungeon, but he didn´t recognize it as the one in the Red Keep. And he was sure that he hasn´t been asleep long enough to be taken to Volantis. “What are you doing here?”

“Lord Renly took us here when we escaped the Red Keep. He said that he would marry Lady Margaery and become king, as Stannis was not the right man for the job… but when we came here, we were taken prisoner by the Tyrell and put here. They had been treating us kind of well for prisoners, but…” he looked around. Tyrion thought that Renly had possible already been shipped off to Volantis as a present for the Targaryens, but he didn´t say anything. “Have you seen Lord Renly? We haven´t seen him since being…”

A door opened in that moment, which made Ser Aemon close his mouth. Two figures walking slowly and with walking sticks followed the gaoler, who held the keys in his hands. One was clearly Olenna Tyrell, who was dressed in what seemed like mourning clothes, the other… he couldn´t believe it, it was the Black Minister!!! The flame of Tessarion!! How could he be there? And gain the alliance of Olenna so… now that he thought about it, some said that he came from a noble family of the Reach that was apparently offed by the Lannisters along with House Tyrell. It was because of the roses he seemed to favor to decorate his clothing, but it was never proved. Something that wasn´t possible because under the mask he nearly always wore, lied a burned, unrecognizable face. Maybe he would know now.

“What are you doing? We said that this one should be put in a separate cell, alone” the Minister said, in a known voice. Why did he know that voice? They had never met in person, not that the man could talk much with burns covering most of his body.

“I´m sorry, my Lord” the gaoler said, opening the cell to drag Tyrion again. Why was this man obeying him anyway? He was not Olenna to be obeyed by the personnel of Highgarden. He thought that he soon would find out.

“So, we are finally here” Tyrion said, as isolated as he could in that overly populated dungeon. “I guess that I was naïve to think that I would make you turn against the Queen you sworn your fealty to for revenge, no matter that she turned mad as her father in the end.”

“Mad? I wouldn´t describe her as mad by the end of her life… which was cut short a second time by you and those blasted Starks” the Minister answered. Again, that voice was very well-known, as if he had recently heard it. But who could it be? “Just as my brother´s and parent´s and sister´s and other brother… even my grandmother´s.”

Tyrion felt his blood chill in his veins when he finally realized who it was. As if getting the que, the man in black took his gloved hands to his hood and let it fall, revealing the honey-colored hair of the Tyrells. Then his hands went to the mask, lifting it from his face. Just as Tyrion had feared when he heard those last words, it was Willas Tyrell. So… Olenna was not the last Tyrell to survive, it was Willas. Willas, who had aligned with the Targaryens when his family was brutally murdered, who was already a cripple before he was burned but still had his sharp mind to offer them… who had become fanatically loyal to the dragon´s cause in the name of avenging the slaughter of his family by the Lannisters. He knew, all the Flames were fanatical Targaryen Loyalists.

“I see that we finally saw each other face to face… Willas Tyrell, Flame of Tessarion” Tyrion said, keeping his calm as he made plans in his head. “If I had known the talent that you had, I would have made you Master of Coin long ago.”

“Really?”

“In the first life”

“So I could die with all the other Tyrells in the Sept of Baelor? With my sister, brother, father and mother” he raised an eyebrow. “Oh, I know, your sister planned it all. But I think that you wouldn´t have cried a single tear if I, Garlan and my grandmother died in there.”

“I have to give you that, but it would be because I would have been too worried running for my life in that moment. And because I didn´t know you that well” he sighed. “What do you say about changing sides now?”

Willas gave him a face that was enough of an answer. Fucking Fanatic… but he had played Tyrion and the rest of the Lannisters well. Specially him… underestimating a cripple was the last thing someone like him should have done, but what were the odds of Willas having survived the battle he was in? He was supposed to have been killed in an explosion of wildfire!! Though that explained the terrible burns he had suffered which lead to him to use a mask and gloves and cover the entirety of himself for the rest of his life. And his use of the black clothes and roses were mementos of his family. But Willas´ survival also means that Olenna and him, probably the sharpest members of House Tyrell along with Margaery, already knew what had happened until the end. And that this visit had been, from a start, a chance to capture him and nothing else.

“What do you want to achieve with this, Willas?” he asked, glaring at the still black clothes man. “Do you want to buy the Targaryens their way back into the Iron Throne? It´s not how things work and you know it. And even if they did, they would still have a massive debt to pay, and to Iron Bank. Of your making!!” he reminded him. “Rhaegar left his son well-secured financially speaking and their new Valyrian Steel business goes rather well, but how much can they produce it before they ran out of the special material? Do you really think such a massive debt will be forgotten merely because the throne changed hands?”

“That´s where the contract comes into play” he answered, grinning in satisfaction. “You see, when I used Prince Lucerys money to buy the debts, then sold them to the Iron Bank, I made the contract in such a way that it says that, since it was their head and his wife who had amazed them, it was House Baratheon and House Lannister who had to pay them, not the Iron Throne or Westeros in it´s entirety.”

“You…”

That was a massive amount of money, but not one House Lannister couldn´t pay if it was split in half and it was paid in parts. They could convince the Iron Bank to pay that way, he was sure of that… House Baratheon was doomed for though, or financially crippled for the next few generations, which would control them, so they wouldn´t dare to rise against the Targaryens, even without taking their dragons into account, in a few years.

“Even so, getting back the Iron Throne would mean that…”

“Oh, yes, all that money Petyr Baelish asked the Iron Bank to loan the Throne” he said, his smug smile never leaving. “You see, you remember that I made a short trip to the Hightower with Talla some time ago? It was namely to introduce her to my grandfather, but it was instead to meet a representative from the Iron Bank. You should have seen me after that trip, I nearly fainted with exhaustion at the rush of returning here so quickly after the reunion to prepare for your arrival!!”

“Your point?”

“When I met we them, we talked business. And, for a small percentage of the Valyrian Steel and Myrish glass business´ gains and a certain amount of the tressure they got when conquering the Three Daughters, they accepted to change the contract, so now the debts that were once in the name of the Iron Throne, are now in the name of those who spent all that money: Robert Baratheon and Cersei Lannister.”

“But…”

“And in the case of their deaths, their family members would inherit the debts, a thing that has already happened for one and is about to happen for the other.” His smugness only grow. “Don´t even bother to try to bribe me, either. Only with my commissions, for those sells I have made House Tyrell richer than it ever was. Richer than even House Lannister. Which is not going to be hard to be soon.”

“What?”

“Why do you think my first trip to the Hightower was for, all that time ago? It was to adquire the debt that the Iron Throne owed the Faith and sell it and the one they owed to my family for a lot of money to the Iron Bank, under the condition that the contract specified that the debt was of House Baratheon and House Lannister.”

Tyrion was completely speechless and more than a bit scared. Willas Tyrell might be a cripple, but he had a terrifying mind when it came to finances. And was scarily loyal to the Targaryens, enough for Lucerys and Daenerys to allow him to make decision with their money and business that benefitted them. Yes, they still have the debt Robert Baratheon acquired in the name of the Iron Throne to House Lannister, but all that money was easy to pay with the money the Targaryens had made in Essos. In fact, they could as well pay that debt directly to the Iron Bank, because it would be in it´s entirety used to cover the payment of that debt. Which was… astronomical. As Willas Tyrell laughed at his horror, he couldn´t help but tremble himself. The days of glory from House Lannister were over now for truth. No one could afford to become enemies of the Iron Bank, much less when holding such an enormous debt that would cripple their family for generations. Both Lord Paramount families, in truth.

They were now declawed, defanged lions… and he could only weep at that.

-In Volantis-

“Welcome back, Lady Helaena” a feminine voice was heard. “I hope your trip to Westeros has been successful.”

“It was the definition of that”

“I´m waiting to see”

Queen Daenerys opened her arms in welcome for her dear friend as Helaena Saeragyon and her husband landed on Palladia near Volantis. The young dragoness emitted a sound that clearly stated that she was hungry, so a big cow was brought to feed her… once they had discharged their package. Lady Shireen Baratheon and Myrcella Hill looked very scared, specially as the Queen´s dragon landed near Palladia. Drogon released a roar, scaring the young dragoness away from the cow, but Daenerys went towards him, to stir him away from the food of the smaller dragon and towards his own. The two captives shivered, afraid that the next dish was going to be theirs.

“Well, I guess that it indeed went well. You brought back some valuable hostages” she raised an eyebrow as she saw the dirty, short haired girls. “What happened to their hairs?”

“Aurane Velaryon considered that they need stronger proofs about the capture of both Shireen Baratheon and Myrcella Hill than their disappearances, Lysandra too. So she cut their hairs and sent them to King´s Landing wrapped in Targaryen banners.”

“I guess that is something not even Cersei Lannister could deny now that we have her and Jaime Lannister´s daughter” she then looked down at the girls. “Come here, we are not going to hurt you. At least, not if you or your families don’t give us reasons to do so.”

“What… what are you going to do to us now?” Lady Baratheon asked.

“You are merely going to be a guest of ours for some time” Queen Daenerys said, putting a hand on each girl´s shoulder. They were trembling, but she would never hurt them. She and her husband could be ruthless, but they weren´t the Lannisters. “Through here, please. I will take you to your rooms.”

It was probably hard to believe, but it was in their best interest to keep both Shireen and Renly Baratheon alive. If they died, either Edric Storm or Gendry Waters were the best candidates to inherit Storm´s End. And the second one, despite Armax´s assurance that he wasn´t that bad, was someone neither she nor her husband could ever forgive for his role in the suicide of Aerys. They might forgive his life if he keeps his head down, but he would never hold power again. Westeros might need him to prepare for the Long Night, but after that, he would be banished to somewhere he would never be able to return from. And Edric Storm… the boy was a wild card. They won´t be able to predict his actions.

“Is it right, my Queen?” Grey Worm asked. “Threating the daughters of your worst enemies as if they were guests in your home? Dress and bath and take care of them?”

“They are only girls, so I would treat them as I wish their families have treated me when I was still one. Besides, they still have some use for me” she answered, as she watched Helaena and Missandei take the girls inside the palace. “Don’t worry, I´m not getting soft on my enemies, much less on the Lannisters. They are still going to get down.”

“My Queen, you should at least put one of the Unsullied to shadow them while they are here” the Unsullied suggested.

“I know, which is why I put Mossador and Marceleen to that, with strict instructions to end them if it´s needed so they don´t fall into the hands of the enemy”

“Excellent choices, my Queen!!” Daenerys looked towards the bowl of water that the dragons drink from. She approached to find the image of Sarella Dayne, formerly goodmother to her second son, in there. “I come forward with news. Cersei has been confined to her rooms by her father after she demanded the heads of the whole dornish delegation because of the disappearance of his daughter. Tywin Lannister is furious, he can´t lose the alliance with the dornish. Also because the taking of Dragonstone by dragons… he has sent the whole Lannister fleet to recover it and bring the Lord of the Narrow Sea to heel.”

“Should I worry?”

“No, Aurane and Lysandra are more than enough to fight whatever Tywin Lannister sent towards him… though they are fairly new dragonriders” she sounded unsure. “Perhaps we should worry a bit.”

“Warn Lucerys. He has gone to Wall to give them some supplies, so we have more time to prepare for the Long Night, he should be close enough by now to give them reinforcements and crush the Lannisters on the Sea.”

“I will”

“Let´s see how the Lions fare against a dragon the size of a Mountain” she smirked as Sarella´s image vanished from the water. “Aegon the Conqueror made a Field of Fire, now my husband and our comrades are going to make a Sea of Fire… this is surely something for the history books.”