Chapter 23: The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms

Robert Baratheon was inside the Twins all night, causing great concern for Ned. Together with Torrhen, Stevron Frey and the remaining Kingsguard, Ned waited on the same spot that they had been on the day before for the King to return.

It was closer to midday by the time the gates opened once more, and the King rode out with Ser Barristan and Ser Arys. He looked cheery, and dismounted before Ned, clapping Ser Stevron on the back. "Get back to the castle, we're all allies here now!" He exclaimed.

"Robert." Ned said sternly. "What happened in there? You were gone all night."

Robert burst into laughter, slapping Stevron's back again. "This man's father knows just how to please me! That's what. There I was, angry at the old man for refusing us entrance, when he offers me a bed and three of his daughters! HA! I'm pretty sure one of them was married too."

Torrhen just rolled his eyes unhappily, and Ned shook his head. "You slept with the man's daughters to gain an alliance.

Robert grinned at an uncomfortable Stevron. "What's the girls name… Amy?"

"Amerei." Stevron muttered quietly.

Robert belted out a laugh. "By the Seven she knows what she's doing. Her husband is a lucky man." He turned to Ned. "No, Ned. This morning he asked me how my night was and was very apologetic about my marriage with the whore being annulled. He gave me the choice of his daughters and I accepted."

"You… you're marrying a Frey?" Torrhen blurted out.

Robert shrugged. "I don't need an alliance, I need heirs. And if there's anything that the Frey's can do it's fuck well and pop out children."

"Who are you marrying, Your Grace?" Stevron asked eagerly.

Robert grinned. "Your granddaughter, I believe. Fair Walda she was called by Amerei."

Torrhen couldn't believe it. "I'm going to be sick." He whispered to himself.

Robert was over the moon though. "So the gate will remain open and our men can travel over the bridge today, while we have a wedding to perform tonight!"

Robert mounted his horse again and made for his tent with his Kingsguard, laughing as he went. Stevron disappeared quickly too back towards the castle, leaving Torrhen alone with his Father and his direwolf.

"A Frey Queen…" Torrhen muttered. "I can't… a Frey!"

"Calm yourself." Ned said quietly.

"Father… I can't ever trust them." Torrhen said, losing his queasiness and instead growing angry. "After what they did!"

"They haven't done it." Ned said sharply. "Not yet, not here."

"I can't just forget!" Torrhen bit back angrily.

Ned shook his head. "Nobody is asking you to forget it, Torrhen. But look at it this way, why was Robb betrayed in your time?"

"Because Walder Frey is a thrice cursed traitorous cunt." Torrhen grumbled.

"Torrhen." Ned warned.

The younger Stark sighed. "Because Robb broke his vow and Tywin offered Frey the Riverlands."

"Exactly." Ned counselled. "And while I'm as against this as you are, think of it like this. Walder is getting his wish and one of his brood is marrying the King. Once that is consummated it won't be broken. Walder Frey gets what he wants, and he will never break faith with Robert Baratheon."

Torrhen knew he was right, but his anger at the Frey's was still unrivalled. "I can't go in there for a wedding, Father. I just can't." He was almost pleading at this point.

Ned smiled sadly. "You are friendly with the Bolton boy, are you not?" He asked. Torrhen nodded. "And you hated the Bolton's more when you first came back. Think of it like that." He looked towards the Twins. "Those are not your Frey's; they are different people here. Loyal to your King."

Torrhen didn't like it, but he nodded once more. "Fine." He grumbled. "But Balerion stays with me or I am not going inside."

Jon had been in Pentos for three days before the wedding, and he already hated the heat. He had discarded his wolfskin cloak for a thinner, black cloth one but no matter what he did he couldn't stop himself from discomfort. Together with Jory Cassell and a couple of other guardsmen they had arrived at the wedding between Khal Drogo and Daenerys Targaryen, somewhere on the coast of Pentos. They stuck to the outskirts for the most part, trying not to draw too much attention to themselves.

Jon couldn't help but stare in the direction of the two Targaryen's sat on the hill. Viserys Targaryen was sat to one side, wearing the infamous colours of House Targaryen, whilst he thought that Daenerys looked utterly beautiful in her dress, although he was unused to the amount of skin showing. Jory was too busy staring at the Dothraki women dancing on the ground however, with their breasts out for all to see.

Soon it was time to give their gift as was custom. They got in line and waited their turn, behind a man with some form of rocks, a man with a snake and numerous others. They were close enough to hear the conversation of a Westerosi Knight, and Jon was shocked to realise who it was once the man announced his home.

"Bear Island?" He whispered to Jory.

"Aye. Lord Stark was to execute him, and the coward fled." Jory whispered, annoyance in his tone.

Very quickly though it was his turn to give a gift, and he let the two guardsmen carry it to the platform that Daenerys and her new husband were perched on. It was a harp.

Khal Drogo laughed, and said something in Dothraki that Jon could see was mocking. The man in orange beside Viserys stood up and translated. "Khal Drogo wishes to know what you think he would do with this?"

"It's for the new Khaleesi." Jon told the Khal. "It belonged to her brother."

While the fat Pentoshi translated Jon noticed Viserys tense up in his peripheral, although his eyes were on Daenerys. She stood up and traced her hands over the red dragon snaking down the column, in awe of the instrument. "Who are you, Ser?"

"No knight." Jon shook his head. "My name is Jon Snow."

"A Northern bastard?" Viserys asked. "How is it you come to have Rhaegar's harp?"

"This is Rhaegar's?" Daenerys asked, eyes wide in awe.

"Aye, it is." Jon noted. "He left it with his wife when he marched to war, and her brother brought it home to Winterfell to bury with her."

Viserys laughed, but his eyes were furious. "What lies is this? Rhaegar married a Dornishwoman, you fool."

"And then had that annulled to marry Lyanna Stark of Winterfell." Jon bit back. He bowed his head to Daenerys. "Forgive me, Khaleesi. It is not a well-known tale."

"But it is his harp?" Daenerys asked, strumming the strings lightly.

"Definitely." Jon affirmed.

He didn't notice Jorah Mormont leaning in to Viserys' ear until it was too late though, the Targaryen exile unsheathing his sword and pointing it at Jon. "Who is your Father, bastard."

Jon noticed Jory and the other men going for their blades, as well as the previously silent Ghost bearing his sharp teeth, but he stopped them with a hand gesture and stroked Ghost's white fur. "My Father is Ned Stark, a man who sent me away for the sole crime of being his bastard. I took this from Winterfell and came here, to serve you." He was looking at Daenerys the whole time.

"I should gut you here and now and send your head back to Winterfell." Viserys spat.

"You will not." Daenerys said firmly. "Magister, please tell the Khal that this man and his friends are under my protection. They shall not be harmed." Illyrio Mopatis did just that, and the Khal just nodded with a grunt. "Welcome to Pentos, Jon Snow." She said with a smile.

Jon just bowed his head, hating the fact that he had to lie about his relationship with his Father, but it had been Ned's idea to claim a falling out. 'If they feel like you are bitter towards me and your siblings, they may take you in under the promise of giving you Winterfell. Let them.' Ned had said.

Bowing his head to Daenerys, Jon moved away from the central podium back to the outskirts where he could breathe a sigh of relief. "I thought I was a dead man." He admitted to Jory.

"That Viserys reminds me of his Father." Jory noted quietly. "And the fact they have Ser Jorah with them… this doesn't bode well."

Jon nodded, watching as Illyrio gifted Daenerys Targaryen with dragon eggs. That got his attention. "That is what we are here for though Jory, we need to keep both Daenerys and her dragons alive. And if Viserys Targaryen gets in my way, then so be it."

Torrhen stayed on the edge of the room, not willing to celebrate in this hall. The hall where he imagined the Frey's had all celebrated at the death of his brother, flayed and hanging from the top of this very castle next to his wife. The only thing stopping him from leaving the room in a fury was the thought of Arya sat at the Lord's chair, giving a speech as every single male of House Frey choked and died on poison.

Shaking his past life from his mind, he looked over to see Robert Baratheon drinking more than he had done since he had arrived back at Moat Cailin, his new wife on his lap feeding the King from her hands. His Father was talking quietly to Rickard Karstark on one of the tables, another who looked like he would have preferred to be anywhere else but there.

Balerion tugged at his leash, not enjoying the lack of freedom. Torrhen knelt down and petted the direwolf, moving to a table briefly to grab a chicken leg, which the direwolf tore into quickly.

"He doesn't look so fearsome here." A female voice came from behind him. He turned to see a blonde, clearly a Frey judging by her face, although he would have mistaken her for a whore judging by her dress. "What's his name?"

"Balerion." Torrhen offered gruffly.

"Peace, Lord Stark." The woman chuckled. "It is a wedding, no? Have some wine, relax." Torrhen didn't say anything, just stared at the woman with suspicious eyes. She wasn't deterred however, standing up to lean on the wall beside him, taking care to push her breasts out. "If I wasn't married already, I'd be up there instead of her."

Ah, that's who she was. "Amerei Frey." He placed.

She grinned, curling a strand of hair around her fingers. "My reputation proceeds me."

"It seems we have you to thank for this… event." Torrhen said. "His Grace was most jovial when he arrived back at camp."

Amerei looked pleased with herself. "Men are easy, take good care down there and they fall into the palm of your hands." She placed her hand on his chest gently, snaking it downwards. "I've had a Baratheon, I wonder what a Stark is like…" Torrhen gripped her wrist tightly, glaring at the girl.

"Leave. Now." He growled. "I wouldn't want to break Guest Right by cutting out your tongue."

He shoved her hand away from him, leaving Amerei Frey pouting. Luckily for Torrhen, just at the moment that Balerion started growling at the wanton woman she saw another victim, Cley Cerwyn this time, and wandered over to annoy him instead.

"You look thrilled to be here, brother." The drunken voice of Rodrik Forrester appeared.

Torrhen scoffed. "We should be marching, not drinking.

Rodrik chuckled, patting him on the back. "Whilst I won't ever be angry at you for honouring my little sister by literally throwing away other suitors, I will say this. Enjoy yourself! We don't know what will happen in the coming months. Now may be the only time we can truly let loose."

Torrhen sighed, knowing he was right. "Fine." He gave in. "One drink."

Of course, one turned into two, which turned into more, and by the end of the night Torrhen was the one leading singing once 'The Bear and the Maiden Fair' began playing, banging his cup on the table in time with the beat as King Robert twirled his new bride around on the dance floor.

The Dothraki wedding was drawing to a close, and the final part was just about to happen. Jon watched on as the Khal gifted Daenerys with a fine silver mare and rode off with her into the sunset. The main wedding carried on however, though Jon didn't feel like joining in the merriment. As he stood up to leave so that the Northerners could travel back to their inn however, Ser Jorah Mormont made his way over to him.

"Ned Stark never had any issues with his bastard." Jorah said venomously. "He took you in as his own."

Jory's hand was back on his sword hilt. "Careful, Ser." The Cassell warned.

"It's alright Jory." Jon said calmly. He slowly reached into his shirt and pulled out some parchment. "My Father knew you would be here, Ser Jorah, and he knew you would react like this when you found out who I was. Here, read this."

He handed the parchment to the disgraced knight and watched as Jorah read it. "A pardon?"

Jon nodded. "You will never hold Bear Island, but your exile will be lifted, if you help me."

"Help you?" Jorah asked. "With what?"

Jon patted Jorah on the shoulder. "Keep Daenerys Targaryen alive long enough for those dragons to hatch."

Jorah scoffed, moving Jon's hand roughly. "Those are stone."

Jon just smirked. "Are they?" He asked, as he moved past Jorah and made his way to his horse, closely followed by his comrades.

While his brothers were at celebrations both at the Twins and in Pentos, Robb was finding his feet at being in charge of an entire army. Thankfully he had Ser Wylis Manderly by his side to help him, Wylla's father, having been an heir for over 40 years, knew what he was doing. Robb had also come to rely on Domeric Bolton to keep him from getting too bored while on the march.

They had camped by the Green Fork having come off the Kingsroad for the night, and Robb was in his command tent looking at the map of the South, trying to work out the time it would take to meet Lord Royce at Darry. Robb reckoned it would likely be another week of marching, a prospect that he didn't enjoy. Suddenly in the corner of his eye one of the direwolves moved in its sleep, and Robb saw that it was Summer. Smiling at the prospect of seeing Bran's face once he saw his direwolf, Robb returned to thinking about his plans, when a voice came from outside.

"Ser Domeric to see you, Lord Robb." One of the Stark guardsmen called.

Robb stood up straight and called. "Let him in." The tent flap opened and in came the Bolton heir, wearing the mainly mailed armour of his house with the flayed man of House Bolton proudly on his chest plate.

"You summoned me, Robb?"

Robb nodded. "You spent time in the Vale, did you not?"

Dom smiled at the memory. "Aye I did. I squired for Lord Horton Redfort for a few years, and he knighted me before I came back to the North."

"Did you meet many other of the Vale nobles?" Robb asked.

Domeric thought for a moment. "I went to Ironoaks the once and met Lady Waynwood and her sons. I was also taken to Runestone just the once."

"So you've met Lord Yohn?" Robb asked.

"From a distance." Domeric admitted.

Robb leant on the wooden table in the middle of the tent. "I know nothing of the man other than what I saw in his brief stay in Winterfell. Were you close to Lord Redfort?"

"His sons, mainly." Domeric answered. "They were like brothers to me. Creighton and Jon mainly as they were closer in age to me, but Jasper, the eldest was always kind to me. Mychel was younger, but he was a good lad too."

Robb thought for a moment. "Would any be in Lord Royce's host?"

Domeric nodded. "All but Mychel I'd wager."

"Then you could go to the Vale and treat with them." Robb noted. "Your relationship with them far surpasses anybody else in this camp."

"Treat with them?" Domeric asked. "Are they not on our side?"

Robb nodded. "They are, but our task isn't to fight battles against Tywin Lannister. Ours is to take the Red Keep and root out all the traitors inside the castle. I need you to let them know that in all likelihood, while it is vital, the only thing we will do is sit and judge those inside the Red Keep."

Domeric nodded, but his lips were tight together in thought. "They won't like that."

"They won't, but that is where Jon Arryn died. Something happened in that castle that led to the death of their Lord and it's our job to find that out." Robb explained.

Domeric nodded. "When do you need me to go?"

"As soon as you can." Robb explained. "Take your fastest riders with you. They'll likely be close to the border, or if not still at the Bloody Gate."

Domeric nodded. "I'll gather my men and leave tonight then."

Robb walked closer to Domeric and gripped the man's forearm, letting Domeric do the same in a firm handshake. "Thank you." He said honestly.

Domeric bowed and left the tent, leaving Robb alone to look into what would happen when they got to the city itself.

Tyrion Lannister decided that Casterly Rock probably wasn't the best place to be at that moment in time. Ever since that blasted raven had arrived from Dragonstone detailing Cersei and Jaime's rumoured crimes Tywin Lannister had been even more of an arse as usual, quicker to anger and often locking himself away with Kevan in his solar. Not that Tyrion minded the second, as it gave him longer periods of time without being insulted or abused by his Father.

The second raven was even worse than the first, with King Robert himself calling on Tywin to arrest his own children or face the might of Westeros. The mighty Tywin Lannister of course didn't believe the story being spun by the King and had called his own banners, having already sent Ser Gregor to the Golden Tooth to ensure that the Riverlords were kept in check.

It was a shock to the dwarf that he was called upon to sit in on a council meeting, and an even bigger shock when he saw Jaime in attendance. Tyrion sat down in his seat to the side of the room and just listened in as Jaime was asked to explain what exactly had happened in the Capital.

"Varys came to us the day before after hearing rumours that Robert was due to go on a hunt, and that Jon Arryn would use that time arrest Cersei and I for some reason." Jaime shrugged; the feigned ignorance noticeable to Tyrion. "He showed us a secret passage in Cersei's chambers and so we gathered the children knowing that we needed to escape."

"You should have stayed." Tywin said unamused. "To flee is to give legitimacy to these disgusting lies."

Jaime almost laughed bitterly. "It was either flee or lose my head, Father. I'd rather have kept my head thank you very much."

"It has put us in an impossible position." Tywin noted, looking at a map. "The North and the Vale now want your heads, as will the Stormlands. The Riverlands will follow whatever Ned Stark will do like sheep. We need allies."

'Not bloody likely.' Tyrion thought. "Dorne hate us." The Dwarf piped up. "And we hate the Ironborn."

"Luckily that leaves us with one region with the power to hold all the others at bay." Kevan said, tapping Highgarden.

Jaime did actually laugh at that. "You expect Loras Tyrell to betray the man he lets fuck him?"

"I expect Lady Olenna to be ambitious." Kevan bit back. He turned to Tywin. "Offer Joffrey to the maid, give her the promise of being a Queen. The Tyrell's have always been power hungry, let us use that to our advantage."

Tywin nodded. "Robert's… annulment. It is dismissible, the oaf has clearly been seduced by his brothers longing for power and so he creates these lies to discredit us."

"Is it lies?" Tyrion asked with a raised eyebrow towards Jaime.

Tywin glared at the dwarf. "Of course it is." He snarled. "We are not Targaryen's."

Jaime was also looking angry. "It's times like these where I wonder who's side you are really on, brother."

Tyrion smiled as sweetly as his ugly face could manage. "Dear brother, you know how much I love my family."

"Enough." Tywin snapped. "If you can't be serious, get out of my sight." Tyrion nodded, pretending to zip his mouth shut and allowing Tywin to continue. "That being said, we need more men. The Vale will be out for blood after that letter and you letting Lysa Arryn drown." He glared at Jaime. That had been another interesting development, apparently Lysa Arryn had been captured by Jaime, but when she came too and realised her predicament, she had rolled overboard and drowned rather than let herself be taken hostage. Tywin had been irate at that as well. The Lannister Lord then handed Kevan two raven messages. "Deliver these to Creylen. Have them sent to Highgarden, Sunspear and Pyke respectively. Then prepare yourself for a voyage."

"A voyage?" Kevan asked. "Where am I going?"

Tywin looked at the map. "To meet with Harry Strickland. We are going to hire the Golden Company."