CH 17: Calm before the storm pt 2

Calm Before the Storm Part 2 Because Noodlehammer Still hasn't Learned How to Accurately Estimate The Amount of Words it Will Take to Get Through His Own Plot.

15th day of the 3rd moon, 281 AC. Harrenhal.

Adrastia pressed herself up against Jaime and gave a long, content sigh that wasn't entirely faked. This new body was highly responsive to stimuli in all the right ways and the guaranteed orgasms were also very nice.

Jaime naturally assumed that the sigh had something to do with him and briefly tightened his grip, as he was meant to. The power of post-coital cuddling was not to be underestimated. She may have used magic to fixate his instincts onto her, but chains that were self-wrought were often the strongest.

He would sometimes use this opportunity to vent his frustrations and Adrastia would listen with a sympathetic ear, but this time he had other things on his mind.

"My father arrives on the morrow." The young knight said, not sounding pleased by this fact.

"I suppose that will spell the end of our time together." Adrastia sighed. "Oh well, it was fun while it lasted. We always knew that it could never be more than that."

It was unfortunate, as the boy was fun to play with, but it wasn't worth the risk. Tywin would probably try to do something foolish if he learned about them and Cersei would definitely do something foolish. No matter, she'd had him often enough at this point that the young knight would have a very difficult time refusing her as long as she didn't ask for anything too obviously problematic.

"Yes." Jaimed conceded sullenly.

"Come now, don't be like that." She laughed, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "Good memories should be treasured, not lamented."

That got a wistful smile out of him. "I will miss you."

Yes, you will.

Adrastia didn't let her thoughts show and gave him a sultry smile instead, her hand sliding down to grasp at his manhood. "I'm not gone yet."

Jaime's demeanor immediately brightened and he eagerly assaulted her lips with his own.

Such an earnest boy. Personality-wise, he was an almost perfect archetype for the wandering knightly hero, slaying bandits, saving damsels in distress and ending his adventures with a brief, steamy romance. In a more modern world, someone would have probably made a TV series about it. Minus the inevitable string of bastard children.

In a vacuum that was no doubt what he would have been. However, a demanding father that cared nothing for his children's inclinations, abilities or desires, only his own vision and one hell of a twisted sister had already done quite a number on him. Both were pulling him into directions that he didn't want to go in, and they were conflicting directions at that.

Really, Adrastia was doing him a favor by appropriating him for her own uses. Jaime's life had been a train wreck waiting to happen, now it would be more of a controlled implosion.

XXXXX

16th day of the 3rd moon, 281 AC. Harrenhal.

Safely going unseen behind a spell of invisibility, Adrastia observed the royal procession with a calculating gaze.

Aerys looked even worse in person than he did through the Glass Candle. A long, unkempt beard with hair to match. Fingernails almost a foot long. Sunken eyes that couldn't seem to focus on anything and a body withered from paranoid fasting. He was thirty-seven years old, but he looked at least a hundred and twenty. And on top of it all was the constant mix of cackling, sobbing and unintelligible muttering.

A less inspiring figure would be difficult to find, and the effects on the kneeling crowd were immediately obvious. They looked as if they'd been dunked in freezing cold water, so stiff their postures were. Their horror was almost tangible.

Of particular interest to Adrastia were the reactions of the Starks and Robert Baratheon. They might seem to be just like the others, but to her, their body language screamed of varying levels of disgruntlement for having to get on their knees. Especially Benjen and Lyanna, who were downright resentful. They had spent too long around Angmar and its ideals. Eddard looked the least affected, but even the Quiet Wolf was not happy to be showing submission to someone he'd never met and didn't respect. There was only so much pride that tradition and social convention could suppress, particularly after spending months or years around those that encouraged facing life's challenges on your feet.

All to the good. If things went pear-shaped, both the Starks and Baratheons would not be willing to side with the Targaryens. It also boded well for the continued cultural contamination of the North in the future. The shared First Men ancestry made the largest of the Seven Kingdoms particularly vulnerable to such an angle of attack, even with that gigantic ice brick limiting contact with Angmar.

Much to everyone's relief, Aerys was quick – rudely so even – to shuffle off to his assigned quarters in the ruined castle, leaving his son in charge of getting the rest of their party settled. The mood lightened by an orders of magnitude with the charming Prince Rhaegar at the forefront.

Adrastia paid close attention as the nobles that had joined the royal procession for the journey were introduced. Martell, Lannister, Tyrell and oh-so-many others. Such a glut of people to play with, she was almost worried that she wouldn't have time for them all.

XXXXX

Elia had assured him that she would be alright with Uncle Lewyn and her friend Ashara to attend her, so Oberyn went prowling around Harrenhal for something of interest.

He was looking for the contingent from Angmar in particular. Lady Luna had mentioned at their last meeting that an old friend of the family and several of her husband's grandchildren would be present and he wanted to meet them.

Finding most of them was remarkably easy, what with how they towered over everyone. They must be descended from the woman that Lady Luna had named Ava, the giant-blooded one.

Oberyn was still impressed with how gracious Lady Luna was about the small army of children her husband had sired on other women. Why, she'd even confirmed the rumors about the emerald-eyed Summer Islanders being his! The Dornish did not consider bastard children to be a disgrace, but he rather suspected that even the most tolerant women of his homeland would have had their limits exceeded a long time ago.

In contrast, Lady Luna did not only tolerate it, she loved all of her husband's children. Truly a remarkable woman. Oberyn had not yet given up on bedding her.

Still, as interesting as the Sorcerer's grandchildren were sure to be, Oberyn was currently more interested in finding the man's retainer. Having sired a daughter on a Summer Isles ship captain, he knew very well what a passionate people they were and the journey to Harrenhal had been both long and tedious. With a little luck, the Lady Adrastia would be more receptive to his advances than Lady Luna.

Unlike the rest of her party, whom seemed rather averse to mingling with the other nobles and kept mostly to themselves, Oberyn found the dark-skinned woman in conversation with a group of ladies.

Though 'conversation' might not be quite the right term for it. It seemed almost as if she was holding court, with the women of supposedly longer and more distinguished lineage looking as if they were hiding their envy of her exquisite clothing and absurdly expensive jewelry. Oberyn had travelled across enough of the world to know that coin often weighed heavier than blood, and he suspected that the sheltered Westerosi noblewomen were not enjoying their encounter with that particular truth.

He was just about to introduce himself when his quarry turned to face him with a brilliant smile, as if expecting him.

"Prince Oberyn, what a delight to finally meet you."

Oberyn smoothly accepted the offered hand and pressed a kiss to it, giving the dark lady the smile that often got him in trouble with other men's wives or mistresses. "The delight is all mine, Lady Adrastia. I have been eagerly anticipating our meeting since the first time that Lady Luna spoke of you."

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the other ladies affix painfully fake smiles on their faces to hide how irritated they were at being ignored. Such petty creatures.

"Did she now?" Adrastia quirked an amused eyebrow. "And what tales has she been spreading?"

"Only good things, I assure you." Oberyn grinned.

"Lies, all of it." The dark lady grinned back. "I am a wicked woman, Luna is merely too nice to speak ill of anyone."

Oberyn couldn't help but laugh at the jape, so unusual it was for any Westerosi noble to speak thus. His assumption that he would like her had been entirely correct.

"My lady, would you do me the honor of accompanying me on a walk across the grounds?" He offered once he got himself under control.

"I would love to." Adrastia purred and took his offered hand.

After a quick goodbye to the now even more upset noblewomen, they set off.

Though, Oberyn experienced a moment of confusion when he detected a great deal of hostility being directed at him. As an experienced warrior – and someone with a penchant for seducing other men's women – it was an ability that one developed if they wished to survive.

And that ability allowed him to notice the seething glare that Jaime Lannister was aiming at him.

Why was that? Oberyn was confused. Certainly, he had mocked the boy years ago when his mother had tried to get him and Elia bethothed to the Lannister twins, but Jaime hadn't been this angry about it even back then. By now he would have surely forgotten about it. This seemed rather more...jealous, a look that he was quite familiar with.

"My lady, did you perhaps have yourself a little dalliance with the Lannister boy over there?" Oberyn asked casually, disregarding years of etiquette training that told him to never, ever, ask such a thing so directly.

"Indeed." Adrastia confirmed easily, apparently taking no offense to his bluntness. "We had some good times, he and I, but alas, with his father now here we decided that it would be best to stay out of each other's beds."

Given what Oberyn knew about Tywin Lannister, that was undoubtedly true. That man was so rigid and humorless as to put rocks to shame.

"How was he?" He asked, keeping his tone casual.

"Inexperienced, but enthusiastic. A nicely toned body and he was a quick study on how to use his tongue. Shame about his cock being on the small side, but he does still have some growing to do, so I cannot really hold it against him. All in all, he was far from the worst lover I've ever taken."

By the gods, if he wasn't careful then Oberyn could find himself liking this woman a little too much. She was as blunt as a whore and as refined as a queen.

"I wonder if he likes men as well?" He mused idly, in direct contradiction to his earlier agreement about the risks with Tywin lannister being present. "Then we could all have some good times together."

"That might just be enough to kill his father from the shock." Adrastia laughed, completely unbothered and unsurprised by his appetites. "But no, Jaime is a strictly sword and sheathe kind of man."

The elegant metaphor made Oberyn laugh again. Perhaps this tourney would be more fun than he had expected.

XXXXX

Cersei was quiet, something that Jaime knew portended nothing good. His twin was a passionate woman, not inclined to hiding her emotions. Quiet from her was akin to the birds going silent just before bandits ambushed you in the woods.

She had come to his quarters, still dangerously early in the evening. Jaime had tried to protest her advances, fearful of being caught, but it had been long since they had last seen each other and she still made his blood run hot. His resistance had crumbled quickly.

They had made love for several hours and were now basking in the afterglow. Only...Cersei was quiet.

Jaime was used to outpourings of bitter complaints from his twin during these times, especially if it had been a while since they had last been together. She was nothing at all like Adrastia, who would press her heated body up against him and nibble on his ear until he was ready again.

He felt guilty for comparing his sister to the Summer Islander, but he couldn't help it. They were the only two women he had ever been with, and they were so very different. One fair, the other dark. One young, the other mature...beauty and passion seemed to be the only things they had in common.

Jaime tried very hard not to compare their dispositions. Now that he had experienced Adrastia, his sister seemed a selfish and demanding lover, concerned only with her own pleasure. He'd never noticed before, as he had always enjoyed pleasing Cersei, but now he couldn't help but notice.

"Have you been paying for whores?"

The sudden, sharp question snapped Jaimed out of his ruminations and he looked at his sister with a furrowed brow.

"What?"

"Have you been fucking whores?" Cersei's tone got even sharper as she glared at him accusingly.

"No, why would you think that?" Jaime denied, bewildered.

"You got better." She said immediately. "And that thing you did with your tongue...you certainly didn't learn it from me!"

Ah. Yes, Adrastia had shown him quite a few things during their time together. She was a very experienced woman.

Which reminded him of the fact that she'd gone off with that Dornish lecher. Jaime knew that he was being ridiculous, that he had no reason to be jealous, but he couldn't help it. Even if both he and Adrastia had known that their time together could never amount to anything, seeing her with another man was still infuriating.

"I didn't learn that from a whore." He assured his sister.

"But you did learn it from someone." Cersei's tone remained as accusing as ever. "Who was she?"

Jaime dearly wished that she would let it go, but he knew better. His sister was relentless once she sunk her claws into something and would be all the more so because they didn't usually keep secrets from each other. In the end, he decided that telling her the truth would probably be less trouble than attempting to lie.

"Lady Adrastia, the retainer to the 'God-King of Angmar'." Jaime couldn't help adding a mocking twist to the title. It was just so pretentious.

Cersei frowned for a moment in confusion before realization fleshed in her eyes.

"That Summer Islander?" She asked, expression turning into a scowl. "Rumor in the Red Keep has it that she is a slave."

Jaime could only shrug. He hadn't heard anything of the sort.

"Wait, but that would mean that you laid with her here!"

"Keep your voice down!" He hissed, glancing fearfully at the door. "Do you want us to get caught?"

Cersei's scowl deepened. "Did you get so bored waiting for me that you had to fuck some foreign whore to pass the time? Have you been rutting with every pretty woman you came across on your travels as well?"

"No, she was the only one." Only after he said it did Jaime realize that this was likely to just make things worse.

And sure enough, Cersei looked even more incensed. "And what is so special about her?!"

"Nothing." Jaime quickly lied. There were quite a few things special about Adrastia, but telling that to his obviously jealous sister would be a terrible idea.

"Hmph!" His twin huffed and got out of bed, putting on her clothes angrily.

"Where are you going?" Jaime asked.

"To my quarters." Cersei snapped, her movements getting even more abrupt.

He just sighed knowing better than to try reasoning with her when she was like this. A minute later, his door slammed shut and he didn't bother to restrain a wince at Cersei's carelessness. She was a fearless woman, his sister, but that wasn't necessarily a good thing.

Jaime sighed again, feeling both tense and exhausted from the brief argument.

Why couldn't she be more like Adrastia? The treacherous thought made him feel guilty, but there was no avoiding the truth. The dark Summer Islander had a much sweeter disposition.

XXXXX

17th day of the 3rd moon, 281 AC. Harrenhal.

Cersei had been too angry to sleep after last night's revelation and thus stalked towards Harrenhal's great hall much earlier than she normally would, her foul mood made worse by tiredness.

Jaime had been unfaithful to her. They weren't married, but they were soul mates, perfect reflections of each other!

And now some wizard's slave whore was trying to steal him away! It was intolerable, and Cersei was determined to show the bitch what happened when you pulled the lion's tail.

How exactly she was going to do that, she wasn't quite sure yet. Still, with Father being Hand of the King, it shouldn't be too hard. These were just wildlings playing at nobility anyway, not even part of the Seven Kingdoms.

Her thoughts ground to a halt when she walked into the castle's great hall with the intention of breaking her fast. It was a gigantic room, easily large enough to seat every lord in the realm at once. And at the high table reserved for the great Houses, the host and the royal family, sat the object of her hate.

The mud-skinned bitch sat among young men and girl wearing the dour-colored finery of House Stark, a huge man in Baratheon colors, an equally huge woman and two hairy beasts that had to have some giant blood in them. Oberyn Martell was also there and conversing with the foreign whore as if she belonged there.

The rage that she'd partially vented on her maids came rushing back tenfold and Cersei had to stop herself from stomping over there and dragging the uppity foreigner out of the hall by her hair. Instead, she pushed it down and made her own way there.

One of the giant mongrels sitting next to the Whore burst into booming laughter and Cersei wrinkled her nose in distaste

Cersei didn't really know what she was hoping to accomplish by going there, but she did know that she hated the idea of allowing these savages to think that they could play at being high nobility unchallenged, so she approached and adopted a false smile.

"Good morrow." She greeted sweetly. "May I join you?"

Prince Oberyn and the Starks respectfully stood to greet her, as was appropriate for a lady, but the Angmari did not, much to her increasing fury.

"A beautiful woman is never unwanted, Lady Cersei." The Red Viper of Dorne said graciously. Had her father been so foolish as to abandon his plans to wed her to Prince Rhaegar, she would have been bethrothed to him, but he was still being entirely too familiar.

"Indeed, please sit." The foreign whore purred.

"Thank you." Cersei said, struggling mightily to prevent her smile from turning into a sneer at how presumptuous the Whore was being.

It didn't help that this close, it was easy to see that her cloth and jewelry was of unbelievably high quality.

"Since I know everyone here, allow me to make introductions." Prince Oberyn said and began before anyone could object.

Cersei didn't care to know any of these people, but she smiled and greeted them anyway. Although she didn't quite manage to keep her lips from curling in disdain when the two hulking Angmari men just grunted and kept eating, barely even looking at her.

"Boys..." the Whore sighed in exasperation, probably at their lack of manners. As if she had any herself.

"Is Lady Cersei not to your liking?" Brandon Stark, the savage, laughed.

"Too soft." One of the Angmari men, Brok she thought he'd been introduced as, said with a careless shrug.

"Aye, she reminds me of a dumpling." The other one chortled.

Cersei fumed, redfaced from both anger and embarrassment as the younger Starks and Baratheon also burst into laughter. I will have their tongues torn out!

"That is no way to speak to a lady." The second Stark, Eddard, chided, sending her an apologetic look. Baratheon snorted at this.

"It's how we talk to women back home." Brok shrugged again.

"Truly?" Oberyn asked with a raised eyebrow. "And they are not insulted?"

"Well, if they try to stab you then you know she's got some fire in her." Hagen grinned.

Cersei stopped clutching at her knife. The last thing she wanted was for one of these hairy beasts to become interested in her. The mere thought made her skin crawl.

"Women attempt to stab you often, do they?" Brandon grinned back.

"Not a one so far." Brok sighed. "How are we supposed to find a woman worth fucking if they won't try to stab us?"

"I believe that I will have to visit Angmar after this tourney is over." Prince Oberyn spoke into the silence following that statement. "It sounds like a fascinating place."

"I as well." Brandon added.

"Heh, don't think you're going without me." Baratheon declared.

Barbarians, all of them.

"Luna could probably be convinced to give you a ride there." The youngest Stark offered helpfully.

"A ride with Lady Luna?" Oberyn repeated, grinning roguishly. "This is sounding better and better."

"Who is Lady Luna?" Cersei broke in, fed up with being ignored.

"The Witch-Queen of Angmar." The Whore answered. "My master's wife and a sorceress of tremendous power."

That was interesting information, as Cersei had never heard the witch's name spoken, only her title. But it was something else in that sentence that caught her attention. "Master? Then the rumors are true, you are a slave?"

The question may have been asked in a curious tone, but there was no mistaking the derision under it. Cersei had intended it to shame the Whore and remind her of her place.

Instead, the dark-skinned woman merely smiled, showing off incredibly white teeth. "We are all slaves to something. At least I can see my chains."

Cersei wanted to flay that smug expression off her face. She could her the unspoken words perfectly well. You are just as much a slave as I.

Once she got rid of that Dornish slut, wed Rhaegar and became queen, she would have him declare war on Angmar. Then this uppity Summer Isles whore would be collared and made to clean the Red Keep with her tongue. Then they would see who the slave was.

Brandon coughed to draw attention to himself. "So, what brings you to our table, my lady?"

Hate. Cersei smiled. "Oh, I was just curious. There are so many stories and rumors going around the Red Keep about Angmar that I couldn't help but approach."

And there would be more rumors going around before this tourney was done, quite scandalous rumors. It was still very early, but there were enough people in the great hall breaking their fast that anything she said would have some credence. And of course, Cersei had long since figured out that people liked to believe the worst thing they heard, especially about foreigners.

XXXXX

Adrastia was only giving the verbal joust with Cersei Lannister about a third of her attention, that was all she needed.

What a monster the girl was. A natural born sociopath paired with the spoiled entitlement of an aristocratic brat that had received 99% of everything she had ever wanted in life and loathed the fact that it wasn't 100%.

Not terribly clever though.

Even a quick peek into her mind revealed that her thoughts were dull and unimaginative, clouded by a morass of unfocused emotion and further compounded by a ridiculously bloated sense of self-importance. She was, in Harry's words, a dangerous idiot, with emphasis on the idiot.

Poking at her buttons was kind of amusing though. In this age where reputation was everything, it would be so very easy to set her up to destroy her own family through a scandal of some sort. It was highly likely that Cersei's over-privileged upbringing had severely compromised the girl's ability to gauge the consequences of her actions and her lack of empathy would only compound that issue. Adrastia was sure that she could arrange to have her embarrass Tywin so much that he would kill her himself inside of a year if she wished.

Jaime must be capable of some extraordinary self-delusion and willful blindness if he couldn't see past his twin sister's pretty outside to the rotten core within.

The other two thirds of her attention were on the room itself, and more specifically on the many nobles slowly trickling into it.

There was a reason that she was up so early, and it wasn't just because the Starks and Harry's progeny were disgustingly early risers. No, it was also to gauge the reaction to their presence.

Predictably, many of the nobles were disgruntled about having them there, especially at the high table, but none of them looked quite hostile just yet. That was good, but there was still time for the proverbial shit to hit the fan. The true test would come either when the big players got out of bed or in the evening at the welcoming feast.

The logistics of a medieval society didn't permit such feasts to be held when guests actually arrived, as it can take as much as a whole day to get them settled, so they generally had to be held the day after.

Adrastia could only hope that her preparations would be sufficient to keep the situation from deteriorating into violence. She did so deplore violence – it was far too direct and honest.

"How have you been enjoying Lord Whent's hospitality?" Cersei asked, notably leaving out any kind of respectful address. She probably thought it was a snub. "It may not be King's Landing, but I imagine that it must be quite different from what you are accumstomed to."

How unsubtle, and repetitive as well. These Westerosi noblewomen always went there, assuming that Angmar was poorer than the Seven Kingdoms and trying to rub it in. It was as if they thought that claiming to have greater wealth would change the fact that Adrastia was wearing enough bling to buy a small kingdom.

Then again, women had been exchanging barbed comments like that since the dawn of time. The form changes, but the essence remains. The female version of a dick-measuring competition.

Adrastia smiled back at the spoiled blonde monster. "Lord Whent has been a most gracious host despite the limited resources available to him. We cannot complain."

Cersei's expression curdled like milk. It was only for a moment before her fake smile reasserted itself, but it was still easily visible. She was really quite terrible at hiding her true opinions.

"Ah, is that your brother over there?" Adrastia continued, spotting Jaime entering the room and suppressing a vicious smirk when Cersei looked around with a scowl. "I hear that he is already reckoned a great swordsman and knight."

"He is." Cersei confirmed stiffly.

"And so handsome too." Adrastia lowered her voice slightly and flicked her tongue across her lower lip, just enough for Cersei to see. "No doubt he is going to make some woman very happy one day."

Such rage in those green eyes. It was almost nostalgic, as it reminded her of the times when Harry would look at her and contemplate how easy it would be to snap her neck. Though this one's eyes were a paler shade of green and her killing intent was more like a rabid dog compared to her dear master's skulking panther.

"Any woman should consider herself fortunate to be blessed by my brother's attention." Cersei replied frigidly, glaring.

Really, that was all it took to make the girl slip into blatant hostility? How had her tutors not noticed this? Even the Starks, Robert, Harry's grandchildren and Oberyn, who had up to now been talking to each other and leaving their conversation alone, had noticed and were staring at Cersei in surprise.

What a jealous, angry creature.

By that point, Jaime had crossed the room, noticed them, paled and approached in the manner of a man going to his execution.

"Ser Jaime, good morning." Adrastia greeted brightly, smiling at him so affectionately that he instantly blushed. "Please join us. I was just getting to know your sister. Such a delightful young lady she is, everything that you claimed and more."

Jaime relaxed marginally at the seeming compliment, not noticing how Cersei bristled at the veiled insult.

"It gladdens my heart to see that you have become friends." He said and sat down. The poor, overly optimistic boy.

"Indeed, we appear to have much in common." Adrastia smiled, glancing sideways at Cersei and then back to Jaime.

The female twin stiffened and her pupils shrank in horror.

Adrastia had to genuinely struggle to keep from laughing. Playing on people's fears we too easy sometimes. Cersei was going to drive herself spare wondering if the twins' incestous relationship had been discovered. She would live in fear of when the axe would fall. She would worry incessantly and badger her brother if he had let something slip. Jaime would get annoyed by the accusations and begin to distance himself from her, seeking comfort elsewhere, which would enrage Cersei further and make things even worse in a self-perpetuating feedback loop.

"Truly?" Jaime asked curiously, oblivious to the social undercurrent as only a man can be.

"Yes, we share a certain refined taste." Adrastia continued needling the girl. "Wealthy Angmar may be, but my master forged it of wrought iron and I do sometimes enjoy the glitter of gold."

Jaime frowned in confusion, clearly not understanding what that was supposed to mean. Then he did the usual thing that men do when confused and decided to take it literally. "The caverns beneath Casterly Rock glitter with veins of gold, both yellow and red."

"So I have heard." Adrastia nodded. "I would love to see them some day."

"I am certain that my father would be glad to host you." Jaime said graciously. He was at least smart enough to know that his father would indeed be glad to do so, if only to see what he could gain from treating with Angmar. At least half of that offer came from his loins, however.

"Dorne would also welcome you, my lady." Oberyn chimed in, giving the Lannister knight a vaguely challenging look.

Ah, territorial growling. Wonderful.

"Sunspear hardly compares to the glories of Casterly Rock." Jaime retorted.

Translation: I'm richer than you.

"I am quite sure that Lady Adrastia would enjoy the Dornish sun more than the dreary Westerlands." Oberyn riposted.

Translation: I'm a better lover than you.

And he really was. Jaime might be young and earnest, but so was Oberyn and the Dornishman was also more passionate and experienced.

"Now, now, boys. No need to fight, there is enough of me to go around." Adrastia teased.

"Indeed, it was churlish of us to behave thusly." Oberyn nodded, then adopted a wicked grin. "We could travel together and visit all of our lands."

Translation: ménage à trois?

Apparently he had caught on to the innuendo.

Jaime almost choked on a bit of cheese as the thinly veiled hostility suddenly turned into something else, turning wide eyes on both of them. He probably didn't know what exactly had just been proposed, but he was still wrongfooted.

"Sadly, I do not believe I will have time for that." He coughed. "My duties do not leave much time for travel."

"A shame." Oberyn said with genuine disappointment, although he was still smirking. "It would have been fun."

"No doubt, but alas, duty waits for neither man nor woman." Adrastia sighed. "Why, I shudder to think what my master's knuckleheaded progeny would do without me there to lend a woman's touch."

"Oi!" Hagen exclaimed in protest, causing Brok, Brandon and Robert to burst into laughter, which in turn set off everyone else.

Except for Cersei, who only gave a sickly smile. The girl had been sitting frozen stiff ever since she began suspecting that her sticky incest adventure had been discovered and appeared too petrified to speak lest she betray any further information.

A great ruckus at the entrance heralded the coming of royalty and a moment later Prince Rhaegar and princess Elia strode in.

Ah, so the real excitement was about to begin.

XXXXX

Rhaegar had been informed the previous day by Lord Whent that a party from Angmar was present, but had been too busy to seek them out. Now that he saw them at the high table, he immediately veered in that direction.

His goal of getting his young half-sister bethrothed to his unborn son was still foremost in his mind and in order to do that he needed information.

Lord Whent had fortunately been waiting for them to awake and was thus able to handle the introductions. Hagen, Brok, Gerd and Adrastia...Rhaegar had met none of them before, but they seemed awfully close to the Starks and Cousin Robert. The only ones that seemed a little out of place were Prince Oberyn and the Lannister twins. In fact, Cersei looked rather pale and tired.

"My lady, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. Luna spoke well of you." He said to Adrastia after the introductions were over.

"As she did of you, Prince Rhaegar." The dark-skinned lady replied. "Your mother also sends her regards and her regrets for her inability to attend."

Rhaegar blinked in shock, barely noticing how quiet everyone else got.

Why would she say that? There was no benefit to letting it be known that his mother was now in Angmar.

"Queen Rhaella still lives?" Jaime Lannister asked incredulously, just a moment before Lord Whent was about to.

"Indeed, she has been living in Dol Guldur for the past nine years."

"A hostage." Was that a hint of glee in Cersei Lannister's declaration? There was something wrong with that girl, Rhaegar knew. His father's refusal of Lord Tywin's marriage offer was one of the few things he was thankful to the king for.

"A part of the household." Lady Adrastia corrected Cersei's assumption with a wide smile. "Why, Rhaella bore my master a daugher just three years ago."

Another ripple of shock went through those that hadn't already known and Rhaegar was once again left furiously wondering why this information was being shared. It would cause nothing but trouble, especially with his father here.

Then it hit him. His father was here, his increasingly unhinged father.

Too many people knew about his mother's true fate already. Besides himself and Elia, Prince Oberyn, the Kingsguard, the Hand and Father. Far too many people for a secret to stay secret. If a rock falls upon the egg, alas for the egg. If the egg falls upon the rock, alas for the egg.

Lady Adrastia was revealing this information herself in order to retain some control of it. Clever of her. Knowing when to let go of a secret was oftentimes just as important as knowing how to keep it.

"And how is Visenya doing?" Rhaegar asked warmly, playing along. Maybe he would be able to leverage this later.

"Very well, she's a lively little thing."

Seeing the easy conversation stymied any excessive reactions and forced everyone to simmer down in mild confusion. The situation was strange and none of the knights or nobles really knew what to do about it, so they took their cues from their prince.

Rhaegar was not interested in war with Angmar, he wanted an alliance against the Others, which he was sure would begin moving soon. Specifically, he wanted an alliance sealed by marriage.

Now if only his father could be convinced to not do anything ...rash. Lord Tywin could be counted on to be practical and would no doubt see the value in such an alliance, but King Aerys was unpredictable. Both of them would no doubt be arriving soon.

Lord Tywin would have already been here if not for the king. The Old Lion was a diligent man who often woke up before dawn and worked until long after sunset. Father had become petty enough in his mad cruelties to demand that his Hand wake up at the same time as him, knowing how it grated on the proud Lannister to waste time.

"Your pardon, Lady Adrastia, but what is it you do in Angmar?" Elia asked with polite curiosity. "Lady Luna made mention of you, but only as a friend of the family. Lord Whent said that your were introduced as a retainer...?"

"Ah, how typical of Luna." The Summer Islander sighed ruefully. "Well, I do not believe that the Seven Kingdoms have any equivalent to me. Harry and Luna are rather detached from the affairs of the world than your line of kings – it comes with the territory of being immortal."

"Immortal?" Rhaegar questioned in surprise. It was true that there were rumors of such going around, but...

"Yes, immortal." Lady Adrastia confirmed. "A skilled enough wizard can conquer even time, and Harry is the most powerful one to have ever walked the earth. As I was saying, he and Luna are rather detached and usually leave the day-to-day affairs of the kingdom to others. I make it my business to act as their voice in such mundane matters so that things do not get out of hand."

That...did not tell them much at all. Still, Rhaegar wondered if it was possible to negotiate a bethrothal with Adrastia. She did say that his mother was part of the household and if she was the voice to the heads of the household...

"I imagine that ruling over savages must be difficult." Cersei Lannister said sweetly.

Right then, Rhaegar felt a most unchivalrous desire to hit a woman. He had never liked Cersei, but right now she might very well be endangering the future of the world with her petty jealousies.

"Lady Cersei!" Elia reprimanded sharply.

The Lannister girl's eye burned with rage for a moment before she turned back to Lady Adrastia.

"My apologies," She said with poorly hidden distaste. "a slip of the tongue."

"It's quite alright." The Summer Islander accepted the apology magnanimously. "Besides, you weren't wrong. Despite my pleas to settle somewhere more civilized, Harry insisted on going beyond the Wall precisely because it was full of savages. Two hundred years of kingship in the early parts of his life have exhausted what little patience for politics he ever had."

"Truly an interesting man." Prince Oberyn grinned. "I must meet him!"

"Brother..." Elia sighed at her younger sibling's declaration.

Rhaegar was too busy thinking about the information that Adrastia had just revealed to say anything. Two hundred years of kingship? He couldn't even imagine the rule of a single man lasting so long.

"Why do you stare at my sister?" Arthur asked in a voice of carefully restrained anger.

Rhaegar had indeed noticed that Brok had been silently staring at Ashara Dayne pretty much the whole time. Eddard and Brandon Stark had been stealing glances at her as well, but the Angmari man had been staring openly.

"She's pretty." Brok replied bluntly before turning his gaze back to the increasingly flustered Ashara. "You're the princess' handmaiden, right?"

"Erm, yes." Ashara replied cautiously.

"That means you don't have a man?"

Rhaegar could already imagine Arthur's nostrils flaring in fury at this line of questioning towards his sister, his hand creeping upwards to grasp the hilt of Dawn over his shoulder. Ser Lewyin probably wasn't much better.

"I am unmarried, yes." Ashara said even more cautiously than before.

"D'you want to be my woman? I'd take good care of you." Brok asked even more bluntly.

"Cur...!" Arthur seethed and only stopped reaching for his sword because Rhaegar gave him a pleading look. The knight had good reason to be angry, but there was too much at stake here.

"M-my lord, I am flattered, but..." Ashara stammered with a blush on her face. Dornish she may be, but she was still a noble lady and unused to such a direct proposition.

"Brok, that is not how courtship works in the Seven Kingdoms!" Brandon Stark laughed.

"Bah, your courtships take too fucking long and they're too fucking complicated." Brok grumbled, but didn't seem truly upset. "If I tried to do it your way we'd both have been grey before I could put a child in her."

"He's got a fucking point." Cousin Robert roared with laughter, setting off the Starks, Prince Oberyn and the other Angmari as well.

Lady Adrastia was the only one of them that seemed exasperated by their poor manners. Even Lady Lyanna had a small smile creeping onto her lips despite the disapproving look she shot her bethrothed.

Rhaegar was just plain bewildered and for the first time truly appreciated how different the people living beyond the Wall must be. By the reckoning of the rest of Westeros, Brok had given House Dayne a grievous insult by propositioning Ashara like that, but upon being refused had just laughed it off like it was nothing.

He would need to think on this and figure out what it meant for his plans to secure Visenya as a bride for his Aegon.

XXXXX

Tywin kept his eyes fixed firmly ahead as the royal procession entered the Hall of a Hundred Hearths, or stomped, to be more accurate. Aerys was in the kind of mood that usually resulted in multiple people being burned alive. Little wonder, seeing as a guard had frantically come to inform them not long ago that Queen Rhaella had apparently joined the household of the so-called God-King of Angmar and bore him a daughter.

True, it wasn't new information for either him or Aerys that Rhaella was a guest in Dol Guldur, but they had assumed that 'guest' meant 'prisoner'. That she was happily cuckolding her husband and bearing children for a rival king changed the situation completely.

Not only was it an alarming threat to the Iron Throne from a political standpoint, but it was also personally humiliating for Aerys. However amusing Tywin thought the latter was, as Hand of the King he was obligated to do something about the former. Children born of rape would have been of some concern, but few Westerosi nobles would have even considered them to be related to the royal family. Children born of the queen's treason – particularly in light of the king's undeniable madness – would have a dangerous amount of legitimacy to some people. If Rhaella bore the Sorcerer a son, a bastard Targaryen with the backing of a powerful kingdom of magic users...well, the Blackfyre Rebellions could very well look like a minor disagreement in comparison.

Oh, and Rhaegar had known, as had Princess Elia, Ser Arthur Dayne and Ser Lewyn Martell. Aerys had already been shrieking about treason earlier. What a mess. Of all the threats that Tywin had expected to come from beyond the Wall, politics had not been one of them. He had fallen into the trap of assuming that Angmar would be even less inclined to play the game of thrones than the North, on account of being even further north. In hindsight, an incredibly foolish assumption.

Tywin had to admire how beautifully they had driven a wedge between Aerys and...well, everyone really. Many lords would stay loyal to the crown no matter what, but few would choose a madman over the dashing Silver Prince. There was going to be a shift in power soon.

"GUARDS!" Aerys screeched, his voice reminiscent of blades scraping across stone. "SEIZE THEM! SEIZE THE SAVAGES!"

Tywin wanted to sigh in exasperation. So much for not creating a spectacle and further tarnishing the reputation of the crown.

"King Aerys, how are you this fine morning?" The lavishly dressed Summer Islander greeted genially, as if the three swords now pointed at her were of no consequence.

Apparently she had predicted something like this. Wonderful, that probably meant that she intended to exploit it.

"DO NOT SPEAK TO ME! FILTH! WHORE! TRAITOR!" Aerys roared, spittle flying from his mouth.

Tywin held back a grimace. How unsightly.

"Rude." Adrastia pouted, black eyes glinting with amusement.

Of course she was amused, Aerys was making a fool of himself in public by spewing abuse at her. Worse, she had been at Harrenhal for some time already, secured guest rights and made connections. Now she looked like another innocent victim of the king's madness, an image doubly convincing because of the contrast between her beauty and the madman's wretched appearance. For a politician, there was no greater prize than to have your opponents destroy their own reputation for your benefit.

Tywin could already see the disgust and contempt on the faces of the Starks, Robert Baratheon and Oberyn Martell. Aerys had lost the support of three Houses Paramount in a single stroke, and quite possibly many more.

The thunderous expressions on the faces of the huge Angmari men that reminded him of Gregor Clegane spoke of enemies gained rather than respect lost.

"Father..." Rhaegar stood and tried to speak.

"NOTHING OUT OF YOU, BOY!" Aerys turned his fury upon his heir. "HOW LONG HAVE YOU KNOWN THAT YOUR MOTHER WAS WHORING HERSELF TO THAT WIZARD IN THE NORTH?! HOW LONG?"

Rhaegar was obviously taken aback as he replied. "Four years."

"FOUR YEARS!" Aerys frothed. "FOR FOUR YEARS YOU'VE BEEN BETRAYING ME!"

"I never betrayed you!" The prince retorted firmly, raising his voice.

"THEN WHY DID YOU NOT TELL ME THAT MY WIFE BECAME ANOTHER MAN'S WHORE?"

"BECAUSE YOU SENT HER TO DIE!" Rhaegar shouted back, finally losing his temper, though he quickly brought himself back under control. "Mother wanted nothing more to do with you, not even revenge, so she asked us to keep our silence."

"Your Grace, this discussion would be better held in private." Tywin interrupted before this bit of drama could get any more out of hand.

Aerys blinked repeatedly, as if awakening from a deep sleep, and looked around at the many nobles who had been watching in stunned silence.

"What are you looking at?!" He snapped at everyone and stalked off. "Rhaegar, come!"

The prince gave a final look to the others seated at the table before doing as he was bid. Tywin gestured for the now confused knights to follow.

"My apologies." He nodded at the dark-skinned Summer Islander. "His Grace has been under a great deal of pressure of late."

It was a weak excuse and everyone knew it, but it prevented an awkward silence from strangling the air.

"It is unfortunate that we brought such discord into Lord Whent's hall, but one should try to be understanding of the mentally infirm." Lady Adrastia's smile was a razor blade, a mean slash of lips.

Mentally infirm? Yes, that described Aerys rather well. Tywin was almost tempted to smile back.

"May I sit with you?" He asked politely, deliberately not defending the king despite it being one of the Hand's unofficial duties.

"Of course, Lord Lannister. Your children and brother spoke highly of you and I have been eager for the opportunity to meet you."

Tywin had certainly noticed that Jaime and Cersei were sitting there and was pleased. There were things he wanted from Angmar and it would be easier to get them with a connection already established.

"I have long wished the same." He said, reaching for some bread and cheese. "Indeed, I had hoped that your king would send a representative to King's Landing or visit it himself."

"He did visit, actually." Adrastia said with a small grin. "Back in 237 AC."

"I had not heard of any visits." Tywin frowned. True, that was five years before he'd even been born, but surely such a thing would have been talked about.

"Unsurprising, as it was done in secret. You see, Sigrid, one of the women Harry took for himself, wished to see the great castles and cities of the Seven Kingdoms, so he took her to see them. There is a distinct possibility that their daughter was conceived in King Aegon's bed."

"The Sorcerer snuck into the Red Keep and fucked his woman in the king's bed?" Prince Oberyn asked incredulously.

"He did." Adrastia confirmed with an exasperated sigh. "The two of them thought it would be funny."

Funny? Tywin personally didn't find much amusement in the ease with which the Sorcerer could gain access to even the most private places of Westerosi nobility. He couldn't help but feel that it was being used as a subtle reminder that he could kill any of them whenever he pleased.

"I doubt His Grace will see the humor in it." He said neutrally.

"Indeed, he seems a prickly sort." She replied musingly. "Perhaps I should ask Luna to come and smooth things over. The tension between King Aerys and Angmar is so thick you could cut it with a knife. The slightest spark might ignite a war, which would be...unfortunate."

"Not King...Harry?" Tywin asked, hesitating momentarily at the Sorcerer's name. It was just so...common.

"Oh no, his presence wouldn't help at all." The dark lady chuckled. "He has little patience for people at the best of times and King Aerys has already irritated him. Any further interaction between them would more than likely end in blood."

"Is that a threat?" His daughter demanded.

"Cersei!" Tywin snapped, glaring at the fool girl until she shrank back into her seat. There was a time and place for directness, but this wasn't it.

"No, it was merely a statement of fact." The fortunately unoffended Lady Adrastia replied to the question. "If we wish to solve problems diplomatically, then it would be wise to not draw my master's attention. He tends to favor more...permanent solutions."

The Summer Islander had quite a gift for letting what was unsaid speak for her, Tywin noted. A dangerous and duplicitous woman. It had been quite some time since he'd last encountered a politician that made him feel as if he had to check for hidden daggers in every word.

"You would know best, my lady." He conceded. "Perhaps Queen Rhaella could come as well. Her words might be invaluable in resolving the situation fully."

And if something happened to both Rhaella and Aerys that would allow Rhaegar to ascend the Iron Throne without complication then all the better. If he was truly fortunate, Princess Elia would get caught in it as well, leaving the prince free to marry Cersei. In his wildest dreams, Rhaenys and Visenya would also be done away with, but that was likely too much to hope for. They were just girls in the end, and thus a minimal threat to his plans.

The real trick would be orchestrating something like that without any of the blame being pinned on him. Still, he would have at least a year to prepare before any such meeting could take place, as it would take close to half a year just for Lady Adrastia to return to Dol Guldur.

"I can ask, but can make no guarantees. While Rhaella would certainly wish to see her son, she has no wish to ever lay eyes on her former husband ever again." She nodded.

Former husband? Apparently the so-called God-King had given himself authority to dissolve a marriage ordained in the light of the Seven. That would get the septons frothing again.

"We can only hope for the best." Tywin replied neutrally.

"Indeed. Well, I will ask later today and if they agree Luna at least should arrive within a few days."

Wait, what? A few days?!

XXXXX

The next days were characterized primarily by tension.

As she said she would, Adrastia contacted Luna via a communication mirror that she had brought along as a safety measure. However, instead of asking her to come immediately, she had instead asked her to arrive towards the end of the tourney.

That was a little bit risky, which was something that she was normally averse to, but sometimes you had to take risks to get what you wanted. In this case, what she wanted was to ruin Aerys completely and profit from his destruction.

Speaking of the Mad King, he wasn't handling the stress well. His behavior was more erratic than ever and he barely ate or slept, so worried was he about poison or assassins. If it wasn't for the fact that everyone was a guest in Lord Whent's hall, he would have snapped and ordered the Angmari killed already. He might have snapped anyway, but his paranoid delusions actually worked in his favor for once, as he was acutely aware of the potential danger should all these lords and their guards feel that it was in their best interests to band together against him.

It still took an exhausting amount of persuasion by saner people to keep him from doing anything impulsive.

A task that was made all the harder since Cersei's plan to have Jaime inducted into the Kingsguard had intersected with the king's paranoia at the worst possible time, not that the girl realized it. The only reason Tywin hadn't stormed off back to Casterly Rock and taken his whole family – sans his heir – with him was because he still wanted to negotiate with Adrastia, but he had already announced his decision to resign his position as Hand as soon as the tourney was over.

A negotiation that she was playing coy in so as to get a better handle on the man, as well as downplay how much influence she actually had in Angmar's affairs both foreign and domestic. It was always safer to be the power behind the throne and let someone else deal with the assassins.

And he wasn't the only one that she networked with. Oberyn Martell was the easiest target, the lusty Dornishman falling under her influence downright eagerly. A few moments were stolen with the increasingly more depressed Jaime Lannister, who was slowly realizing that maybe being in the Kingsguard wasn't such a great idea. The others were less sexual, but still valuable connections.

Subtly taunting Cersei Lannister was a bit of amusement on the side. The fool girl was almost cute, like an angry toddler that desperately wanted to throw a tantrum and was only being held back by fear of drawing her father's wrath to her.

And in the broader scope, rumors about Rhaella's true fate quickly made rounds, helped along by the nearly day-long shouting match between Rhaegar and Aerys. Well, Aerys did most of the shouting, both at his son and at the Kingsguard. It was a miracle that he hadn't ordered any executions, although the people involved had a feeling it was only a matter of time.

Then, on brisk but sunny morning, a magical flying cloud descended from the skies.

XXXXX

24th day of the 3rd moon, 281 AC. Harrenhal.

Not a word was spoken, not a whisper heard.

The smallfolk fidgeted, too nervous to speak but too curious to stay away. The devoutly religious clutched icons of the Seven. Knights stood so straight that one would be forgiven for thinking that their spines had been replaced with metal poles. Lord Whent had sweat beading on his forehead despite the pleasantly cool day, worried at how his grand tourney had turned into a potential diplomatic disaster.

And Aerys...

Well, Aerys was nearly vibrating in place. His face and body were gaunter than ever from lack of food, his eyes had deep shadows under them from lack of sleep, but they were wide open and nearly glowing with restrained insanity, darting all over the place suspiciously.

The only ones that didn't seem like they were on a hair trigger were Adrastia and Harry's grandchildren, who knew better than to think that Luna would grasp the atmosphere and behave accordingly.

And so it was, for as soon as the Nimbus Cloud descended from the sky, she hopped off it with Rhaella held in a bridal carry before depositing the other woman on her feet.

That alone was enough to make the gathered Westerosi nobility goggle incredulously, but it wasn't the end. Aside from the flying and the unmistakable possessive demeanour towards their former queen, they noticed several other things as well.

For one, Luna's size and general otherwordly appearance with the lustrous golden hair, forehead marking and luminous silver-blue eyes. Adding to it was her clothing, which consisted of a knee-length light blue skirt, calf-high black hiking boots that had obviously seen much use, fine stockings that went up to her knees and a white turtleneck that clung to her every curve. For people that associated women with dresses, it was rather scandalous, somehow even more than the more sensual dresses of the Dornish or Essosi. That was familiar to them at least.

For another was Rhaella. While she was wearing a vibrantly purple dress and even had a fur cloak over it, the design and cut was both simpler and rather more flattering than the norm for them. Those among the gathered nobility that had seen her up close in the past also noticed that she was looking vastly improved from the haggard woman they remembered. Over a decade of extra years sat more lightly on her countenance than the strain of being married to Aerys.

The surprise at that realization only lasted for as long as it took them to remember what their king was like.

"Hello!" Luna chirped at the tense gathering. She did notice how tense everyone was, but simply didn't care. If they wanted to be tense that was their business as far as she was concerned.

The reception was being held in Harrenhal's massive courtyard and the turnout was quite considerable, but the greeting party consisted of the king and his family, Tywin Lannister as Hand of the King, the Kingsguard, Lord Whent as the host and the Angmari delegation.

Those who didn't know her blinked in surprise at the – to them – strange word and the excessively cheerful tone, but they were completely taken aback when the seven foot woman rushed forward and started hugging people.

"My boys, are you having fun?" She asked, crushing the significantly taller Hagen and Brok to her chest with one arm each, forcing them to bend downwards.

"Granny..." Hagen complained embarrassedly. All of Harry's grandchildren had long since stopped trying to keep straight who was blood related to who – if at all – and simply lumped each other into broad categories.

"Oh, sorry. I forgot that you're too grown up and manly to be seen hugging in public." Luna apologized sincerely, which of course made it worse. "Here, I baked you some cookies. Make sure to share with your friends."

A bag of baked sweets was deposited into each of their hands and they snatched them eagerly. Embarrassing or not, Granny Luna made the best cookies.

And while everyone else was busy wondering where the bags had come from, the artificial giantess had moved on to Gerd and Adrastia, giving them the same treatment .

"I missed you too, Luna." Adrastia drolled unenthusiastically from where her head was being squished into a breast. At least she wasn't so tall that she had to bend over to accomodate the moonbrained woman's fondness for physical affection.

Letting go, Luna moved on to her next victims (after depositing another bag of cookies into the hands of a greedy Gerd).

"Rhaegar! Elia!" She beamed and went to glomp them.

All of the Kingsguard except for Arthur Dayne and Lewyn Martell tensed, drawing a few inches of steel from their sheaths in warning...and were completely ignored. They hesitated to do anything more, both because she was a woman and because they did have a little warning about what she was like. Then it was too late.

"How are you doing? And how is Rhaenys?" Luna asked, holding the two royals to her chest (or under it, in the case of the rather short Elia).

Somewhere off to the side, Oberyn Martell went into a coughing fit, red-faced and teary-eyed from the effort containing a burst of inappropriate hysterics at the bamboozled faces of everyone who hadn't met the 'fearsome' Witch-Queen of Angmar before.

Next to him, Ashara Dayne could only stare in disbelief. This was how the supposed savages from beyond the Wall behaved amongst each other?

"We are well." Elia replied warmly, reciprocating the hug without reservation (unlike her husband, who was awkwardly trying to free himself from the steel grip without actually touching her). "Rhaenys keeps asking when you are coming to play with her."

"I'll come visit as soon as you get back." Luna promised and finally let go, to the master of Harrenhal..

"Lord Whent?" She inquired with a bright smile.

"Yes, Your Grace, I am Lord Walter Whent." The flustered lord replied, the sudden need for protocol helping him recover his footing.

"Hi, I'm Luna. Thank you for taking care of my family." Luna beamed and pulled another couple of items from her personal hammerspace. "Please take these as thanks, one for you and one for your wife."

Lord Whent accepted the items, a long dagger with an ornate hilt and sheath and a crystal bottle.

"Valyrian steel." He breathed when he saw the smoky ripples in the metal. Even beyond that, the dagger was a work of art, with gemstones set in the pommel and crossguard and the blade itself carved with decorative script.

"Mmhmm, it used to be an heirloom to one of the old dragonlord families. The script on the blade says that it was meant to be given as a gift to the heir of the House when they were considered full grown." Luna explained with a nod. Adrastia had asked her to bring the dagger as a gift. "Harry and I found it in Valyria."

Walter was speechless. Certainly a Valyrian steel dagger was not as valuable as a sword, but it was still a ludicrous gift to be given so casually. Not to mention that its status as an heirloom blade of an ancient dragonlord family made it even more valuable.

"And the bottle?" He managed to ask, curiously eyeballing the obviously expensive crystal container filled with a viscous pale blue liquid.

"Scented bubble bath, just add a few drops to the water and enjoy." Luna chirped. "I figured your wife would like that better than knives."

"Ah, yes, indeed." Walter blinked and decided that he would just have to try it out in order to figure that one out. "Thank you, Your Grace, these are most generous gifts."

"I'm glad you like them." Luna beamed again.

During this time, King Aerys was being oddly silent. This was not due to a sudden discovery of patience or humility. Rather, it had more to do with the way his former and much estranged wife/sister was looking at him.

Rhaella hadn't wanted to come and absolutely hadn't wanted to ever see Aerys again, but she had come for her son's sake and for the sake of preventing any misunderstandings that might set off a war. Now that she was here, however, she couldn't take her eyes off him, and not in a good way.

The wretch that her brother and former husband had become did not inspire the fear that she remembered. Indeed, her feelings were more along the lines of seeing a particularly disgusting bug that had just crawled into her soup and ruined her dinner. She was not afraid of him anymore and certainly didn't respect him.

Aerys wasn't used to people looking him in the eye with such utter cold disdain, especially not a woman that had always avoided his gaze in the past. The sight was so unfamiliar that he actually had trouble identifying it for a solid minute, his fractured mind struggling to make sense of this unusual occurence. To his thinking, Rhaella was a cowed doormat and this sense of being looked down upon with such blatant hostility was not computing.

Next to him, Tywin Lannister kept his face impassive, but on the inside he was more than a little shocked and not just at Luna's shenanigans that were occuring as a backdrop to this confrontation between the two Targaryens. The Rhaella of his memories was an object of pity at best. This one before him was a lady of formidable will. Several of his plans on how to handle the situation would need adjusting to compensate for this development.

"Rhaella." Aerys finally said, his tone a melange of tones ranging from fury to surprise.

"Aerys." In ncontrast, the female Targaryen's clipped, cold tone conveyed only disdain. Nobody missed the deliberate disrespect in her lack of proper address.

Certainly not Aerys, who reddened with anger. "You betrayed me!"

Rhaella snorted indelicately at his snarling, wondering why she had ever feared him. He was no dragon, he wasn't even a lizard. "Trying to blame others for your failures again? I suppose that is the only thing you were ever good at. Still, I should thank you for sending me away, it was the only kindness you ever did me."

That wasn't exactly true. Even if their marriage had been an unhappy one from the start, he had tried to comfort her in her grief during her earlier miscarriages and stillbirths. She wasn't going to admit that or give him any credit for it, though. The hate she felt for him had sunk in deep and whatever minor good points he once had were long forgotten.

Deep enough that, even though she had originally come to Harrenhal with the intent of lowering the chance of war, she couldn't resist the urge to hurl insults at him now that she felt able to do so. Luna wouldn't let any harm come to her.

Seeing his face redden with impotent outrage gave her a curious sense of satisfaction.

"Perhaps we should move inside and partake of bread and salt?" Tywin suggested, heading off the impending disaster.

"Indeed, there is no need to dally here and make a spectacle of ourselves in front of the smallfolk." Adrastia backed him up, speaking quietly enough that her voice did not carry far.

Neither of them had any reverence for the ritual of hospitality, but they certainly could appreciate its utility.

Aerys glared at them suspiciously, clutching at his seven-pointed star medallion. Then something seemed to occur to him and he grinned wickedly. "Fine, get the witch a room. Rhaella will stay with me, of course, as my wife."

His mind had made the leap that Rhaella was being so defiant because she'd been away for so long and that getting her back into his bed would be enough to break her newfound spirit. Naturally, he had disregarded all the reasons why this wouldn't work, the biggest one especially.

"No, Rhaella will be staying with me." Luna declared, possesively wrapping an arm around the woman in question. Normally, she would let people decide what they wanted on their own, but she could be forceful when the need arose.

Rhaella kept her face stoic, but two spots of red bloomed on her cheeks at the public display of affection.

"You dare?!" Aerys spluttered with rage, furious both at being denied and talked back to and several other things besides.

"Shush, you need a nap." Luna hushed, in a tone one would give to a cranky five-year-old. "The lack of sleep is making you delusional."

"I...need a nap?" Aerys repeated in confusion, blinking rapidly as if to clear his vision.

"Yes, you're very tired." Luna continued.

"I am tired." The king agreed, already turning around. "I should rest."

"You do that." Luna encouraged as the unkempt royal shuffled away.

The Kingsguard were not so sanguine about accepting this and had white-knuckled grips aroun the hilt of their swords.

"Did you cast a spell on our king, witch?" Ser Gerold demanded harshly.

"Yes." Luna admitted without hesitation. "He was about to make trouble."

Most everyone blinked at how casual she was being about an execution-worthy offense. They were already pretty stunned at seeing mad, paranoid Aerys treated like a child about to throw a tantrum and were having some problems adjusting to the new reality of things.

"Undo your magic!" The Lord Commander growled.

"It'll be gone by the time he wakes up."

"You'd best follow after him, Ser Gerold." Rhaella broke in before the man could respond. "It would be a terrible shame if he tripped and cracked his skull open somewhere."

More baffled looks were directed at the former queen. None of the Kingsguard were used to hearing that tone of command from her, nor the contempt directed at their king.

"Do as my mother says, Lord Commander." Rhaegar added. "I am confident that Queen Luna meant no harm."

"Your Graces." Ser Gerold acknowledged stiffly and walked off with Ser Barristan and Ser Oswell in tow.

"Well, that went well." Luna said cheerfully.

"No deaths and no property damage, or even threats of such." Adrastia agreed drily. "We should handle diplomacy before Harry notices more often if these are the kinds of results we get without him."

Nobody had ever accused Tywin of being slow on the uptake, so the hint was quite obvious to him. Don't escalate.

"All things considered, it could have been worse." Rhaegar admitted with a sigh. The past few days of dealing with his father had been exhausting. "It is good to see you again, Mother."

"You as well, Rhaegar." Rhaella smiled warmly, moving forward to embrace him and his wife.

"We have prepared quarters for you near your...grandchildren...and retainer, Your Grace." Tywin addressed Luna courteously with the royal title, though he did hesitate for a moment upon comparing her visible age with those of the Angmari.

"Okay!" Luna chirped in response to the Old Lion, then her eyes widened in realization. "Oh, we weren't introduced, were we? I'm Luna and I like your whiskers."

Tywin blinked, hand automatically reaching up to touch his golden sideburns even as he introduced himself, wondering if he was being mocked or if the seven foot sorceress was as sincere as she sounded. "Tywin Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, Shield of Lannisport, Warden of the West."

"Nice to meet you." Luna smiled brightly and resisted the urge to scratch his sideburns, no matter how much like a kitty they made him look.

XXXXX

Luna wasn't very good at politics and she knew it. Her only skill at it was breaking the ice, a function that she had been happy to be used for in the past and didn't mind doing again.

That task was done, so it was time to make herself scarce. These people wouldn't appreciate her disposition once the initial surprise passed. That was fine, she didn't really want to hang around such uptight people for too long anyway. Especially that Tywin fellow.

No matter how cute his whiskers were, he was a very frowny man. He'd spent so long frowning that it was probably carved into his soul. The world would be a better place if people like him could learn how to stop and smell the flowers every once in a while.

Rhaella would be safe with the coocoo king having his enforced afternoon nap. Nobody else had any real interest in harming her and Harry's grandkids and their friends would look after her in any case.

"Lady Luna, would you allow me the pleasure of showing you around Harrenhal?" Oberyn Martell asked, having followed their group at a discrete distance and pounced on the opportunity when she separated from them.

"Okay." Luna smiled brightly at the Dornish prince. She did like the laid back young man. He and Harry would probably be great friends...if only Harry would stop driving away all other men for a change.

For all that he had stated in the past that he wouldn't be angry if one of them took male lovers other than him because 'fair was fair', his actions spoke otherwise. Harry was rather territorial about any woman he considered to be his and tended to scare off potential competition. It was a blind spot in his own self-awareness that Adrastia had laughingly pointed out early on in their marriage.

Nobody had told Harry himself about this of course. No good would have come of that.

"What would you like to see first?" Oberyn asked, offering her his arm. The height difference made the usual arrangement a little awkward, but they made it work. "The grounds? The gardens? The God's Eye lake? My quarters?"

"The towers." Luna decided.

"They are either ruined or abandoned in the upper floors." Oberyn pointed out.

"I know, that's what makes them interesting."

"Oh, an adventure?" The Dornishman's eyes gleamed with humor. "Just the two of us in a place where no one ever goes. They say that hundreds of bats make their home there."

"Really?" Luna squealed happily and began walking faster. "Let's go!"

"You have a fondness for bats?" Oberyn's eyebrows went up in surprise.

"They're cute." She affirmed.

He chuckled. "Truly, you are an extraordinary woman. Most would think them disgusting or frightening."

"How could anyone think they're scary with their flappy little wings and the way their tongues dart out of their mouths?"

"I think it may be their reputation for drinking blood." Oberyn pointed out bemusedly.

"Nonsense, only a few species of bat do that and it's not like they bite anyone, they just have coarse tongues that they use to scrape away skin." Luna paused for a moment before continuing. "Well, except the ones in Sothroyos, those are the size of dogs and do actually bite people."

"Fascinating, I never dared travel to the southern continent myself. Tell me more about it." He requested.

Luna was always happy to tell stories.

XXXXX

Astral Plane.

Harry made the conceptual equivalent of a frown as he 'saw' the Dornish prince's attempts to seduce his wife. It had always happened in either Dorne or King's landing before, where he could not see due to the lack of weirwoods.

Luna had told him about the man, but seeing it was...irritating. It would be hypocritical of him to begrudge her for taking a lover considering his own numerous extra-marital dalliances, but it was still irritating.

Was it an outside influence or was it something of his own? Harry couldn't tell anymore. While he still retained his individuality, he knew that his ego barrier was fraying at the edges. There was only so long that anyone, no matter how strong, could stay themselves when their soul was being assaulted from all sides.

The faith of his worshipers was colored by their hopes and fears. The secrets they entrusted to him in their prayers and the emotional turmoil they sought to soothe by opening their hearts to him...all these things affected him.

Harry would have closed himself off if he could, but that wasn't an option.

"You will not have them!" R'hllor raged, fighting for control over a particular group of children in Myr that were waffling on their choice of god.

That was all that the two of them had been doing since his Odin impersonation, scrabbling for followers. It was the only thing they could do since direct combat on the Astral Plane was quite impossible. They could get in each other's way when it came to influencing mortals, but they couldn't attack each other. It wa a frustratingly indirect confrontation, but it explained the preponderance of gods in this world.

"Oh, but I think I will, Azor Ahai." Harry mocked back.

For that turned out to be what R'hllor truly was, the original Azor Ahai ascended and twisted through millennia of worship. He might have been a true hero once, with his legend great enough to see him ascend to divinity, but now he was just a hungry monster.

Harry wasn't intending to see the same thing happen to him. He had to get back to his mortal body before he lost himself. Thus, the counter-intuitive scramble for more worshipers. As long as R'hllor had enough of them, it would be impossible to bury him in the planet's world-soul and he couldn't just trigger the failsafe to yank him back because that would be giving the fiery bastard the chance to retry his possession trick.

"I would rather see them burn!" R'hllor declared and urged his priests to target the children that were being swayed.

An ideological struggle spanning years in the mortal realm condensed into moments in the Astral Plane. Time passed strangely in this place, stretching and distorting in ways that made a mockery of linear temporal progression.

"Sore loser." Harry scoffed, but let it happen. The bad publicity it would give the red priests would be better for him in the long run anyway, though the callous decision made him feel a twinge of guilt and regret that the passing years had buried long ago. More proof how this experience was changing him.

He was winning this war, largely because R'hllor was completely out of touch with humanity. The fire god was a very one-dimensional being. For someone like Harry, the danger of becoming like him was far more frightening than death, even if his fate would lean in the other direction. Benevolent stupidity was still stupidity. The insight of godhood was nice, but the certainty of it was dangerous.

He would need to step up his game soon. Already he could feel the hand of death lingering over Hala, Sigrid, Oak and Ava. They had only a few years left in them and when they died that would be another four anchors to his mortality lost.

With that in mind he spread himself out among his many worshipers, reigniting the fading embers of hope in their hearts and bolstering their wills with his own. Their dreams of freedom would not fade, they just had to endure a little longer before he could strike the killing blow.

As he was doing this, a sliver of his attention was dragged back to the same time and place he'd been looking at earlier, Harrenhal during the grand tourney of 281 AC. The Isle of Faces in particular. Someone was making their way to the island again...oh, what's this?

I can definitely work with this.

XXXXX

25th day of the 3rd moon, 281 AC. Harrenhal, Isle of Faces.

Terren was the boatman of the God's Eye, among other things. It wasn't the kind of life that would allow him to support a family, but what did he care? His wife was dead.

The will of the gods, the septon had called it, as if it was supposed to be comforting.

Needless to say, Terren was a little bitter about what kind of will the gods had.

That didn't stop him from being curious, though. When the dark-skinned woman paid for the use of his boat a few days back, but asked him to leave, he had done so. He had no idea how all of them had managed to squeeze into his small boat, especially considering that almost half of them were bloody huge, but he hadn't asked questions. The money had been more than generous enough for him to not ask questions.

Then there were all sorts of rumors, topping off the previous day with the arrival of a bloody flying cloud that had been carrying Queen Rhaella and Angmar's Witch-Queen. They had also been spotted going to the Isle of Faces in the evening for some reason.

Terren had a good deal of curiosity in him and not much respect for the gods, so he got it into his head to take a look around the Isle of Faces himself and see what the fuss was about.

The walk was a little bit creepy, but he felt strangely welcome in spite of that. The sight of the Hanged Man, which was a story that he'd heard whispered in the tavern a time or two, somehow didn't shock him. It was almost as if he'd been expecting it.

Terren didn't jump in fright when the weirwood dryad stepped out from the trees, filled with an inexplicable certainty that she wouldn't do him any harm. When she offered him a cup carved out of weirwood, he only hesitated for a moment before taking it.

"What am I to do with this?" He asked, turning the cup over in his hands.

She gestured to the Hanged Man, more specifically to the blood dripping down the shaft of the spear and Terren understood.

"I am to drink the blood?" He asked, just to be certain. In a distant corner of his mind, he wondered at his lack of panic.

The dryad shrugged in a clear 'if you want'.

That was oddly casual. But then again, the Old Gods religion wasn't much for rules, was it?

Terren made up his mind and placed the cup under the spear shaft, letting the dribbling blood slowly fill it. Once it was full, he looked into the dark liquid and wondered if this was really a good idea. Harrenhal had some history with blood, particularly in the tales of Mad Danelle Lothston, who was said to bathe in tubs of it and preside over feasts of human flesh.

Yet why did the swirling crimson liquid not inspire any dread? Something called to him from within, promising to fill the emptiness left behind in his heart since the death of his wife.

He found himself raising the cup to his lips, almost entranced.

XXXXX

Terren the boatman is an oblique referrence to the fic "Wizard of Harrenhal" by DisobedienceWriter on this very site, one of my favorite ASOIAF/GoT crossovers.

A note on Cersei's behavior. Yes, it is somewhat more blatant than it is canonically. I figured that she'd be an even bigger twat as a fifteen-year-old than as a grown woman in her thirties, although less bitter.

Also, you may have noticed the setup-y feel of this chapter. Trust me, I'm as frustrated by it as you. It's like watching an anime that insists on giving 15 minutes of backstory just before the action.