15

Chapter 15 – Troubled Waters

The morning was only just beginning with the sun rising over the horizon as a squadron of Iron Born ships moved along the Westerlands coast. The small fleet of ships bore the image of a silver scythe on their sails, the symbol of one of the most powerful of the Iron Islands' houses, House Harlaw.

At the helm of the leading warship was the lord of their house himself, Rodrik Harlaw. An average looking man with a short groomed beard, he was not what people usually thought of as an Iron Born raider and he himself would rather not be here but his king had demanded he attack the port of Riverspring as part of Balon Greyjoy's plan to conquer the coast and return the Iron Born to the Old ways although Rodrik himself, an academic at heart realised why those plans were futile. Times had changed since the days when the Iron Born had ruled much of the coast and Balon was so rooted in an ideal of a past that had ended long before he had been born that Rodrik had actually considered ignoring the man's demented schemes and going back to his tower to read. The only reason he had not was that if he did Balon would destroy Rodrik and his entire house so as much as it angered Rodrik, who had lost two sons in the last stupidly pathetic rebellion he kept on sailing.

As they neared the cliffs of the Crag, Rodrik was broken from his thoughts when he heard the voice of the lookout calling down from the top of the mast.

"Ships ahoy!"

Startled somewhat by the unexpected contact Rodrik reached for his myrish glasses and aimed it at the horizon where he could make out the shapes of several ships appearing from the rough direction of Lannisport. He frowned having been told, incorrectly as it turned out that the Lannister fleet had been destroyed but was still somewhat confident as his own fleet outnumbered the other by nearly three to one. It would also aid his men he realised for the younger members of his force to get some experience at fighting at sea, so he sailed on and gave his orders.

"Ready the catapults and the hooks!" He called out to the men on deck who immediately followed his orders, looking excited at the idea of plunder and glory. "Arm yourselves and prepare to board." With the orders given, Rodrik turned back to his myrish glasses and took another look at the approaching ships now they were closer so that he could get a better look at just what he was facing. His earlier thought, that they were Lannister ships was confirmed as the golden lion on their sails came into view and although Rodrik prided himself on knowing just about every type of vessel that put to sea he was somewhat confused at the unfamiliar design of these ships.

However it did not bother him unduly, he still had the upper hand with his greater numbers so he sailed his ship with the rest of his fleet following towards the enemy, closer to the cliffs although making sure that he and his ships remained clear of any danger.

-x-

On the cliffs nearby, Samuel Lannister looked at the passing Iron Born ships with distain. They thought of themselves as great warriors, when they are nothing more than glorified pirates and raiders he thought darkly and would enjoy making them pay for what they had done to Fair Isle. He turned around and saw the means of the Westerlands revenge at this given moment, ten trebuchets all capable of throwing projectiles just over three hundred metres with good accuracy, even more so given that he had been drilling the men using them for months now. The official general of the Lannister army, answerable only to his half-brother, Lord Hadrian Lannister Samuel checked that the large rocks they would be using as projectiles were loaded and the large catapults primed before turning back to check the distance on their targets so he knew when was the best moment to fire.

Samuel was a cold man by nature, somewhat like the man who had spawned him…Tywin Lannister himself except it came from his early humiliation at being born a bastard. All the bigotry he had suffered from hardened him against caring or it would have broken him. The only person that had shown him kindness had been his half-brother who had taken him in, paid for his education at the ancestral home of the Lannisters, trained and spoken with him daily as an equal recognising his talent as a military commander. Hadrian had even arranged for him to receive the Lannister name and given him a small castle of his own. As cold and disciplined as he was he respected his brother's commitment to family, especially when he had taken in all the other Lannister bastards and cared for them in much the same way. For that, Samuel would serve his half-brother faithfully…he owed him that much.

Bringing himself back into the moment, he saw that the Iron Born were now within range of the trebuchets and with as loud a voice as he could manage shouted out to his men.

"AIM…AND FIRE!"

The men did as they were told and using their range finding telescopes to lock in on their targets before adjusting the large catapults and pulling the lever that launched the large, heavy rocks through the air and over the cliff's edge.

-x-

The first and only warning that the Harlaw ships got of the stones that were quickly flying towards them was when a man on the deck of one of the war galley's by chance looked at the top of the cliffs and saw the large trebuchets. He had only a moment to scream out a warning and it was the last thing he would ever do.

"IT'S A TRAP!" No one had a chance to act on his warning as just a second later a large rock slammed into the deck, tearing a great chunk out of the hull and killing the sailor along with a few of his fellow crew in an instant, throwing the other crew about as the ship rocked from the impact. Nearby a large three decked warship was struck below the waterline by the large rock that impacted against the hull and quickly started taking on water. Several shots missed but four ships were struck including the flagship with varying degrees of damage being inflicted.

Rodrik was knocked backwards from the helm of his ship and as he fell to the deck was momentarily dazed. He got to his feet again and looked around to see one of his biggest warships with a large hole in its side and listing badly as men jumped overboard to escape the sinking ship. He then looked over to the cliffs where the unexpected attack had come from just in time to see another set of rocks being fired at them.

-x-

From the Sovereign which was leading the Lannister ships that had effectively offered themselves as bait to the trap, Hadrian and Sandor watched as more of the heavy stones impacted on their enemy as they held their distance until the Iron Born were sufficiently weakened to move in for the kill. Alongside were the newer ships of the Lannister fleet, the Sovereign's freshly built sister ship Tywin's Roar and the dozen or so brigs. Sandor smiled as he saw the Iron Born get pounded by the trap they had devised and was itching to get his sword out and go over there to finish them off.

Seeing the eagerness of his fiercest warrior, Hadrian smiled slightly as he turned his head back towards the enemy ships. The trebuchets were doing their job well he smiled, already five of the largest warships were sinking and a number of longboats were broken apart by the rocks being hurled at them. Satisfied that the odds had been sufficiently turned in their favour he turned to the ship's captain and ordered.

"Increase speed and prepare to attack. Send the signal to cease the bombardment."

The captain nodded and repeated the order to his crew, who hoisted their full sails to increase their speed while preparing the ship's weapons. Hadrian watched as a crewmember flashed a mirror in the sun to the watching men on the cliff top who were waiting for the signal and saw the flash and halted their devastated attack.

With the Iron Born still in chaos from the ambush the Lannister ships approached still in formation with their own weapons ready. The largest ships fired their own catapults as soon as they got into range and struck a number of undamaged warships and longboats before they came too close to continue with their much smaller bombardment. Then Hadrian gave orders himself to the men rather than relay it through the captain.

"Ready the bolt launchers and the flame throwers. Fire when in range." He was eager to see how some of the new weapons he had installed worked and this provided the perfect opportunity. The bolt launchers were crank powered guns mounted on a swivelling platform fixed to the ship's hull. They fired small metal bolts like those of a ballista with the force of a crossbow but at a far faster rate as the bolts were attached to a chain that was pulled through the launcher as the crank was moved. The wielder was even able to adjust the aim thanks to the swivel it was mounted too.

The flame throwers however were exactly as the name described, modified from a Greek design used during the Byzantine Empire the crank operated a pump that sprayed a basic version of napalm which was then lighted by a mounted bracer before blasting the deck of an enemy ship.

As they came alongside the Iron Born ships the men opened fire. The fast firing bolt launchers cut down men on deck with easy as the flame throwers bellowed out intense orange fire across the decks of the enemy who cried out as they and their ships were set ablaze by weapons that the Iron Born had never seen before.

On the damaged flagship of the Iron Born squadron Rodrik Harlaw was wide-eyed at the destruction being reaped upon them by the main landers. In every book he had ever read concerning naval combat and every battle he had ever fought in at sea and he had never heard of such weapons being used before today. The trails of intense flame that were scorching the decks of his ships were like the legends of dragons brought to life, it scared him more than anything had before and was about to turn his ship around when the flagship of the Lannister fleet pulled up alongside his vessel. He was shocked to see the men on deck cut down by the bolts fired from the other vessel before the men of the Westerlands jumped or swung by ropes onto the deck of his ship and with swords swinging began to cut down the survivors. Feeling desperate to repel the invaders before he could make his getaway Rodrik drew his ancestral Valyrian great sword, Nightfall and with the large blade in hand left his position at the ships wheel and stepped forward to face his enemies.

Sandor needed no rope to jump from the deck of the Sovereign to the enemy ship. Sandor drew his great sword and immediately with great relish started cutting down any remaining Iron Born on the deck who stood no chance against him. Sandor then suddenly dodged right as the blade of another great sword swung past him with only his battle hardened reflexes allowing him to move in time to avoid the deadly strike. The Iron Born that attacked him was older than Sandor had expected but as he swung again Sandor found a new reason to be cautious as he saw the distinctive ripple patterns in the steel, showing how the metal had been folded back multiple times to give it the greatest possible strength.

Valyrian steel, Sandor thought grimly. An assumption that was confirmed only moments later when his own sword was cut in half by the enemy's overhead strike. Seeing his ruined blade Sandor did not give his enemy a chance to impale him and rushed forward, quickly closing the gap between them and striking back with the pommel of his broken sword. It slammed into the Iron Born's face, spraying a small trail of blood along the deck and before the Iron Born could recover, Sandor with his free hand grasped the wrist of the Iron Born and squeezed as hard as he could. The Iron Born cried out as Sandor's considerable strength acted like a vice on his wrist, forcing him to drop his sword. Without even bothering to release his grip on his enemy's wrist, Sandor plunged what was left of his ruined blade into the man's throat nearly severing his head from his shoulders. Sandor saw the light in the other man's eyes dim and finally go out as blood seeped out of his throat and onto Sandor's armour.

Wasting no time Sandor dropped the corpse and the ruined sword that was now lodged into its throat before picking up the dead man's great sword and went to return to his killing only to discover that during his quick duel with the apparent leader of the Iron Born squadron, his comrades in arms had cleared out any remaining Iron Born and were already looting the ship for anything valuable. He saw his liege lord standing at his shoulder with his own sword bloodied and smiling.

"I see you have picked up a trophy for yourself." Hadrian said with a small smile. He liked Sandor, the man's talent with a blade and reputation as a warrior had defended their coast while he was at Casterly Rock and above all Sandor was loyal, something that Hadrian never took for granted. It was why he was letting his men loot the ships that they had taken today. Men needed to be rewarded for their hard work if you wanted to keep them with you. So he would let them keep their looted spoils while the ships they had captured would help fill the holes in their fleet once they were repaired. He would never waste a potential resource and the more ships they were able to take intact, the less new vessels he would have to pay for himself.

"Aye, the cunt that dropped it. I expect you will want to give it to one of your commanders?" Sandor said offering Hadrian the pommel of the great sword, however much he wanted to keep it, Sandor knew that his lord would decide who got such rewards even if it annoyed him to part with his new trophy. However Hadrian surprised him by laughing and said.

"Fuck that! You are the one that killed Lord Harlaw with nothing more than a broken sword and your hands. You deserve it, Nightfall is yours now." He said giving Sandor the famous sword's name before he went to check on his newest ships to see how many were salvageable before they returned to Lannisport while Sandor, slightly stunned took the moment to admire his new weapon before placing it in his scabbard and going to see if he might claim anything else from the ship before all the good stuff got taken.

-x-

A scant few hours later they returned to Lannisport with three large war galleys and five longboats that had been in good enough condition to be sailed back for repairs and repainting into Lannister colours. The city's people cheered as Hadrian and his people rode through the city's streets, their spirits lifted by the small victory. Sandor, Hadrian noticed with a smile was already making his way to a whorehouse to spend some of his share of the loot taken from the ships. Hadrian himself however was just glad to be back home with a victory under his belt to lift his people's moral after such an atrocity had occurred at Fair Isle, damaging the spirits of his people.

He rode through the Lion's Mouth as he got to Casterly Rock and was greeted by the sight of his children waited for him. He smiled as he dismounted his horse and knelt down as his sons and daughters rushed over to him and embraced them in a hug. This Hadrian thought as he held his children close was the reason for everything he did, so that his children would be safe and happy. That his family would be not only protected, but happy and secure in this world. He saw that even Leo had shown up and was giving him a small smile which Hadrian returned and Arthur gave him a nod too.

Getting up and releasing his hold on his children Hadrian said to them.

"Go and get ready for a feast tonight, I have some work to do in my solar." His children beamed and quickly ran back into the castle dragging their sole remaining grandparent behind them while Hadrian looked on. He made his way up into the castle and through the winding corridors and staircases to get to his solar where he discovered messages waiting for him. The first he opened was a coded message from his agents in the Stepstones, Pentos, Myr, Lys and Tyrosh telling him that they had planted the Weirwood saplings and applied the potion he had given them to advance their growth.

Then once he had put the secret coded letter down he looked towards the other messages and now on top of the pile was a letter addressed to him, written in the hand of Paxter Redwyne. Eagerly Hadrian picked up the letter without sitting down and broke the seal so he could read it.

But as the words were written Hadrian's smile disappeared and was replaced with a frown that lasted only a moment before he put the letter on the desk and went to sit in his chair and poured himself a goblet of wine. He was working hard to suppress his feelings about the situation he now found himself left in, rather than fly into a rage like his sister might have. A knock at the door caused him to look up and put his goblet down and say as calmly as he could manage.

"Come." His uncle Kevan came in looking relieved to see his nephew back in the Rock and having given the Iron Born a bloody nose after what they had done to the Westerlands. Seeing his uncle, Hadrian sat straighter and handed him the letter from Paxter. Kevan's eyes quickly scanned the contents and said gravely.

"He is denying you an alliance because Renly Baratheon and Mace Tyrell will not let him."

Hadrian nodded feeling suddenly tired after his earlier good mood evaporated. He poured a second goblet of wine and refilled his own before beckoning Kevan to sit opposite him, who immediately complied.

"Paxter is a clever and intelligent man and one of the best naval strategists in the Westerosi Empire. He knows how big a threat the Iron Born are to not just his own holdings, but the entire coast of Westeros. Also ensuring his sons safety by allying with us for the short term would be a good move for him but given Mace Tyrell's general idiocy and Renly Baratheon's ignorance of threats outside his own tiny sphere Paxter cannot risk siding with us even just against the Iron Born because if he does Renly and Mace will make war on him." Hadrian said sadly but inside he was feeling a great sense of frustration. If he had the support of the Redwyne fleet along with what ships he did have available, he would be able to clear up this situation much easier and much faster. Now however he was facing the difficult task of defeating the Iron Fleet at sea on his own.

Sure their ambush this morning had destroyed a single squadron, but soon Balon Greyjoy would send his entire fleet against them and there was no way Hadrian's own ships would be able to cope with that. They would be wore down by sheer numbers.

Putting his goblet down Hadrian got out of his chair and walked to his balcony and looked out over the Sea below and thought deeply on his options which were few. A full sea battle against the Iron Fleet, which they would surely lose or attempting a diplomatic solution by recognising their independence which was just giving in and would no doubt make the situation worst. Hadrian would never give in to the demands of murdering, raping, pirates like the Iron Born even on his worst days.

However as Hadrian stared out of his balcony with a worried Kevan behind him, he realised that there was indeed another option, something he had originally hoped would not be needed. He spoke to Kevan without turning around.

"Some time ago I created a new weapon that has the potential to change the way wars are fought." He told his uncle who raised an eyebrow at the idea of one weapon changing the way wars worked, not believing such a thing was possible given his long experience of fighting battles and wars spreading back decades. "It would allow us to defeat the Iron Born with a single stroke but if I use it, it cannot be undone. It could potentially change everything."

"Surely no such weapon, if it is not a dragon could stop the Iron Born that easily." Kevan reasoned but Hadrian amused slightly by his uncle's lack of imagination replied with a snort and explained.

"We now have weapons capable of releasing out blasts of flame by a hand crank uncle, like a dragon's flame. Is it so unlikely that other such weapons might exist?" He asked wondering what his uncle's response would be. Kevan immediately fell silent as he absorbed Hadrian's words and decided to ask.

"If you have such a weapon, why not use it immediately? Tywin would have." Kevan said remembering his late brother's ruthlessness and knew if Tywin had such a weapon, then he would use it without any hesitation.

"My father did not consider others before his own ambition or legacy." Hadrian said briskly as he felt a slight sting from being compared to his father. As much as he had admired and even in his younger years looked up to his father, Hadrian knew Tywin did not care the potential consequences of his actions beyond his own ambition. He had not been short-sighted by any means and could accurately predict the impact his actions would have but he simply did not care as long as it got the job done.

The Lion did not care for the opinions of the sheep, Tywin had once said to him and only later did Hadrian realise how much of his father's power came from his image and how such things mattered. In his old life as Harry Potter he would not have cared about such things but Hadrian was wiser than Harry as he had the advantage of hindsight. Dumbledore's power had waned considerably as he got older however much the Elder Wand had boosted him. But Dumbledore's image as being almost the second coming of merlin had often meant he did not have to fight at all as many feared his reputation and were easily cowed by it. His vast knowledge of magic had helped of course as did the Elder Wand but that reputation had made even Voldemort think twice before fighting Dumbledore head to head.

Hadrian from that lesson had learned to take the opinions of others into account when planning his actions, House Lannister could not rule this country alone and would be torn to shreds if it ever attempted such a thing. Something Tywin either did not consider or fully take into account. A mistake Hadrian resolved not to make for himself.

"However despite my concerns and my initial hope to use this weapon on Renly or Stannis first." Hadrian said to Kevan, making up his mind as he considered how limited his alternatives were. "The weapon will be installed on a number of our ships and while preparations are made I will make other plans so our success does not rest solely on one advantage." He said with a small smile returning to his face as he turned to sit at his desk and write the letters he would need to send. Seeing the smile on his nephew's face nearly sent a chill down Kevan's spine, he had seen that particular smile before…several times in fact. The last however had been when they had flooded Castamere and drowned all the red lions of House Reyne, it had appeared on Tywin's face as he conceived the plan and again when it was completed, however harsh it was to condemn people to that fate.

Kevan did not know what his nephew was planning but it was surely going to be bloody, he was convinced of that. Then Hadrian's smile suddenly became warmer as he refocused his attention on Kevan and told him.

"After the Iron Born have been defeated I will need a new lord of the Fair Isle. I have set aside some funds to aid in the reconstruction which will begin shortly after the men finish rebuilding Moat Cailin in a few months' time and hopefully we can gain additional funds when we defeat the Iron Born and take reparations for all the damage they have caused." Hadrian said with complete assurance, he was now feeling far more confident about their chances in this war. "You have served this house longer than anyone and received little in return. So I will be naming you the new lord of Fair Isle when it has been rebuilt."

That was too much for Kevan who could only just manage to bow in acceptance. Hadrian meanwhile had letters to send to Castamere to get the new weapon ready and down to Lannisport immediately and another to someone else to present them with a…opportunity to improve their lot.

In Kings Landing meanwhile, Tyrion was facing dilemmas of his own. He looked at the new 'Kingsguard' that his sister and vicious moron of a nephew had assembled and was appalled at the quality. Along with keeping the hopelessly inept Ser Merlyn Trant and Ser Preston Greenfield, as opposed to Ser Barristan or any of the other members of Robert's Kingsguard that had actually been of any use, his sister had appointed; Black Walder Frey, Ser Gennedy Shanin, Ser Allar Deem and Ser Orten Lugas. Those names were enough to make Tyrion worry on their own, those men were not famed for their skill with arms but for their cruelty, greed and lack of conscience.

"Those lot are not fit to guard a hen coup." Bronn commented with a snort. Tyrion held his mask when he replied.

"Those men were not chosen for their skill at arms or even for their loyalty. They were chosen because they are greedy and cruel enough to do whatever our king and his mother require without asking questions or objecting providing they are well paid." Tyrion said with his quiet baritone and shook his head at how far the once illustrious Kingsguard had fallen in recent times. The only current member that was worth anything was Ser Arys Oakheart, who while still technically in the Kingsguard remained at Casterly Rock watching over Tommen and Myrcella. At least Tyrion could rest safe in the knowledge that someone vaguely competent was watching over his niece and nephew, not to mention the guards at Casterly Rock supplementing their protection.

Deciding not to waste any more time here watching this, Tyrion made his way to the Small Council chamber where Ser Jacelyn Bywater and Varys were waiting for him. They all had a far more important job to do than pander to the whims of the psychotic boy king. For the sake of his legs he was glad that they were not meeting in the Tower of the Hand and was happy enough to arrive in the chamber to see the other two men already at work. They looked up for the maps and documents spread all across the table when he entered and gave a slight nod at his arrival in respect, which Tyrion quietly admitted to himself he enjoy slightly.

"Gentlemen, please do not let me interrupt you, planning the defence of our city is a project of the highest priority. I take it that you Ser Bywater and Bronn here have been training our newest recruits to an acceptable standard?" Tyrion asked curious about what progress was being made with the expanded City Watch.

"They are starting to become a more cohesive and disciplined bunch of soldiers." Ser Jacelyn said with some pride as he and the sworn sword at Tyrion's side had heavily and somewhat brutally drilled their soldiers to get them ready. Bronn however it seemed had his doubts about how well they would cope with the battlefield.

"Only time will tell though if they will be of any use. Could scatter like a pack of mice if they get scared." Bronn said gruffly causing Tyrion to feel somewhat worried by the harsh assessment, given those men were critical to the defence of Kings Landing. Ser Jacelyn looked at Bronn with annoyance but did not comment having got used to the sellsword's gruff and outspoken manner somewhat. Varys however remained a picture of complete calm and drew their attention back towards the matter at hand.

"With the twelve thousand men we already have at our disposal that should at least make the defence of Kings Landing more viable." Varys said calmly as he waved his hand almost absentmindedly towards a basic map of the city. Tyrion was feeling a little out of his depth here although he did not feel the need to let the other three men know that. His father and brothers were the military minded ones in the family while he was more at home in the library or in a tavern getting drunk or gambling. Still given his passion for reading, he had picked up some notion of tactics and strategy from reading of past battles and campaigns.

With that in mind Tyrion turned his attention to the map and asked Ser Jacelyn Bywater, who had served in the last Greyjoy Rebellion and had more experience than any of them in military matters for his thoughts.

"If Stannis or Renly attacks the city Ser Jacelyn, where do you think that they would concentrate their attack?" The knight studied the map for a moment as he considered the question before placing his finger on one of the gates in the city.

"The Mud Gate, it is the weakest of all the city gates and could be breached fairly easily. If however we can keep them from breaching the walls then we should be able to hold them off and inflict heavy casualties by raining down on them with arrow fire from the walls. But if they do breach the walls then superior numbers will carry the day, perhaps if we considered setting up a series of strongholds inside the city we might be able to hold on for a time." He said although if Renly attacked, he doubted they would be able to hold off his hundred thousand men for any prolonged period of time without additional soldiers.

"That is all very well Ser Jacelyn, but even if we have those strongholds within the city, supplies and men will need to move around. How will they do that if surrounded? Whoever might invade the city could simply starve them out." Tyrion pointed out with concern. While it sounded absolutely thrilling to be mounting some last ditch defence from a shop or even the colosseum, Tyrion would rather they did not breach the walls at all. Also the men would be trapped and that was no way to try and drive an enemy from the city if invaded. Varys however suddenly suggested something that might solve the issue he had raised.

"My lord it may be possible to utilise the sewers that your brother built." He said with his voice never showing a single trace of anxiety or excitement. His eternal calm frustrated Tyrion at times since it made it near impossible for Tyrion to read the man but he could not fault the man's idea.

"Yes, if sewer entrances were connected to each stronghold, our men could use them to move supplies and additional troops between them. I would like a map of the system by the end of the day so that we might see where the best places are to use as strongpoints. I bid you good day gentlemen, I know we all have much work to do." Tyrion said bringing the meeting to an end. Bronn and Ser Jacelyn left to go and complete their work in the training yards, leaving Tyrion alone with Lord Varys.

"Has there been any word from Dorne concerning betrothing Myrcella to Prince Trystane? I would have thought that even if they were completely denying our offer then they would have said so by now." Tyrion asked smoothly, right now Myrcella was quite safe at Casterly Rock but he needed to establish alliances with other kingdoms and Dorne was as yet unaligned. Varys nodded slightly and said in his effeminate voice with a smile that made Tyrion feel unsure of whether he was safe in this room right at that moment.

"Yes my lord, it seems that Prince Doran has agreed to the match. He has said that in a year or so he invites her to come to Sunspear and celebrate Trystane's nameday. The delay I suspect my lord is to see if we are still here by that day and if asked he can deny all knowledge of an alliance since nothing is written down."

"That sounds like a Martell." Tyrion said with frustration but at least it did not sound like they were going to side with their enemies, feeling somewhat better about the situation if annoyed at the same time he asked. "Anything else of note Lord Varys?"

"If I may ask Lord Hand, why are you here? Risking your life for a family that does not care about you? You could easily just leave for Braavos and be with your wife and children. I doubt anyone would blame you." Varys asked genuinely interested in why Tyrion was here risking his own life when he could just as easily run away and live in peace with his wife and children out of danger.

Tyrion gave him a long stare before answering. He did not like the fact that Varys knew of his wife and children although he should have expected it, Varys had the biggest spy network in the known world and no doubt kept an eye on any one of influence that could be either useful to him or a potential threat.

"I hope you do not expect me to tell you my reasons Lord Varys…I have long learned that questions such as those should never be answered lest the reasons be used against you. I could well ask you the same question and I suspect you would not answer truthfully any more than I would." Tyrion said before walking to the door while Varys watched him go, thinking deeply on Tyrion's answer.

When Tyrion made his way back towards Lannister House so that he could enjoy a brief rest from the mounting pressures of his position, he was greeted by the young man he had taken into his service, Podrick Payne who was absolutely covered in sweat and bruises but was beaming from ear to ear. Feeling somewhat amused by Pod's smile despite his bruises Tyrion asked.

"I take it you enjoyed yourself training with the City Watch?" He asked with an amused drawl and Pod nodded very quickly, clearly feeling very pleased with himself.

"Yes my lord. Ser Jacelyn said I was more driven than any of the other recruits and maybe one day if I really work hard then I could succeed him, he even named me his squire." Pod said with bright eyes and a wide smile.

Tyrion nearly shook his head, thinking that Ser Jacelyn was right about Pod being driven although it was somewhat cruel to put such an innocent and vulnerable boy under so much pressure. Tyrion knew he should probably let this slide as Pod would learn for himself soon enough how much work it would take to achieve that dream and all he could not bring himself to break the boy's happy mood. He decided instead to nod and say.

"Well perhaps you such get a bath and go see Archmaester Pycelle about those bruises. Otherwise I will have to call an end to you training until they had healed." Tyrion said slyly and Pod looked horrified and rushed off to get cleaned up and seek out the maester. Tyrion smiled slightly after the boy, perhaps it was the lack of contact he had with his own children but he felt almost fatherly to the young man who had not had anyone to properly support him in a long time. His smile only grew wider when he saw Lancel Lannister, his cousin no doubt going to the Dowager Queen's chambers. As he walked past Tyrion spoke.

"Remember Lancel, I know and one word from me and not only will your father know, but my brothers too. So do not forget who holds your strings cousin." Tyrion said quietly and Lancel gritted his teeth but could not meet Tyrion's gaze, letting Tyrion know that his hold on Lancel remained strong.

-x-

Cersei meanwhile was sitting her rooms as her personal maid made adjustments to a new gown that she had purchased. It was a glorious shade of red, made of Lys silk that had been a gift from her father on her last name day. Still Cersei thought to herself it had needed something more and so she was having her maid stitch it with golden lions across the bodice and skirts. She smiled with satisfaction as her servant went about her work quietly and efficiently and her smile widened when she heard the door open and Ser Preston Greenfield entered.

"The woman is here as you requested your grace." The man said bowing low which pleased her immensely as he gave her the respect she felt she was due. She nodded slightly and told him.

"Send her in Ser Preston and see to it that we are not disturbed." The knight nodded and exited out of the door only for a woman to appear through it a moment later. Cersei studied the woman with distain. The whore that her demon brother's sworn sword had taken up with, she was nothing special Cersei concluded as she took in the other woman's features. She was shorter than her by more than a head and had rather dark hair and eyes, but her figure was rather on the thin side with little curves to speak of. The whore curtsied as she stood before her so Cersei thought to herself that she had at least some manners.

"Your grace, you sent for me." The woman said in an accent that Cersei could not quite place, however Cersei noticed that her eyes had flickered briefly over to the ruby encrusted necklace that Cersei had deliberately left out with some of her other jewellery to test the whore. Good Cersei thought when she caught the look of envy and desire in her eyes briefly and asked politely, pretending she had not noticed the whore coveting her jewels.

"What is your name?" Cersei beckoned her to sit. Her smile may have been wide from her red tinted mouth but her eyes gleamed with distain.

"Shae, your grace."

"Well Shae I have requested your presence here because I have a proposition for you. Agree and you shall be a very rich woman, decline and you will not leave this room alive." Cersei said coming straight to the point as she felt a rush of excitement from the other woman's fear at her words. "You have the ear of my brother's sworn sword Ser Bronn. It would please me greatly to see my brother removed from his position and I hope you might use your…talents to expedite his departure." Her meaning was very clear right from the outset, Shae was wide-eyed at what she was hearing and had to say as she absorbed the words.

"Your own brother?" The word brother brought a glare to Cersei's face and a cold glint in her eyes which scared Shae slightly.

"That creature killed my mother and humiliates me every single moment of his misery existence." Cersei said with pure venom in her voice and a look of pure hatred in her eyes. The little bastard should have been drowned at birth as far as she was concerned but no member of her family had bothered to listen to her. Realising she was getting a little too angry in front of a servant who thankfully had not even bothered to look up from her stitching, Cersei took a sip of wine and few calming breaths before she laid out her offer to Shae.

"You will receive a considerable amount of money and free passage to wherever it is you wish to go after it is done. Any word of this and of course I will have you raped by every member of the palace guard before throwing down into the gutter and slitting your throat." Cersei told her with a smile now coming back to her face while sniggering to herself at the look of fear in Shae's eyes, not noticing the slight look from the maid that had now finished her sewing. Cersei felt a distinct satisfaction that hopefully she would at last be free of her monstrous little brother and could get on with her plans to defend this city and request an update from the alchemists.

The self-proclaimed whore rushed from the room to with all haste turn Ser Bronn against his lord, wondering how she might do it. However she achieved it, for the sake of her own neck she would have to do it fast.

-x-

The target of Cersei's conspiracy, Tyrion was sitting having dinner alone in Lannister House. True a man holding his position was expected to dwell in the Tower of the Hand but all those stairs did not do his legs or back any good and true be told, Tyrion was far more comfortable here in the manse belonging to his family. It was far more comfortable than the Tower and it also held a larger library that Tyrion could utilise whenever the mood took him, which was more so than ever recently with the addition of so much Valyrian lore that his family had obtained with the conquest of Myr.

Also afforded him better security as it was protected by sellswords that were loyal to him, the Summer Sons who traded their services on never breaking a contract once it was agreed. It was one of the things that made them so sought after in the business and invaluable to Tyrion now. Of course he was not as naive as to base his entire security on the loyalty of sellswords, it only took one man being paid more to try and kill him.

That was why he had established as big a network across the city as was possible, links to the guilds of this city to provide him with information about his enemies or those that had the potential to be his enemies. Blackmailing or turning people to his side who were in league with his enemies was also a useful step. It may have been what some would consider 'Dirty' but it worked.

A sudden creaking at the door, made Tyrion turn quickly with a dagger in hand. Anticipating an assassin, he was pleasantly surprised and relieved to see the hooded man from the thieves' guild standing at his door, although his sense of self-preservation made him keep hold of his dagger. The hooded man gave a slight bow and said quietly so only they would hear.

"Lord Lannister, my people have acquired some information that you will no doubt find interesting." The Thieves' representative said with a slight drawl that sounded like a Braavosi accent to Tyrion but it disappeared so quickly Tyrion could almost have felt he imagined it. "Your sellsword's whore visited the queen today and fled in quite a hurry after she joined in a plot to kill you."

"I see." Tyrion said with a cold feeling of certainty coming over him as he read between the lines and gave a bitter chuckle. "My own siblings are either my greatest friends or my worst enemies, two true born brothers who have stood at my side and treated me as family, my sister has treated me like a pariah and filth that would not even be able to grace the heel of her slipper. Now even though I am all that stands between her darling son and the Baratheons, she is still obsessed with power. Well if my sister wants to play her vicious little game with me…let her and I will show her what it is to play games with me." Tyrion said darkly and the hooded man was shaken slightly by the intensity in Tyrion's eyes. But the worst part of it was how calmly the words were spoken, like it were nothing out of the ordinary; your own family plotting to kill you. The hooded man was unsettled by how calmly Tyrion was taking it but the powerful will that was burning in his eyes told him that whatever Tyrion was going to do with this information would not end well with the queen.

The fierce gaze of Tyrion then turned to him and said. "A sum of gold shall be paid to you through a third party and I hope that you will continue to provide me with such useful information."

Over in Essos, Jon was still stuck outside the walls of Meereen, while his people scouted around looking for a weakness he could exploit. Despite defeating their champion, the city had kept its gates closed to him and without actual siege equipment he was unwilling to try and break through the city walls. To make sure that no slaver or anyone else tried to flee the city by water, he had given Ser Jorah the job of maintaining a naval blockade with the ships they had available.

The heat was stifling today, causing him to take a swig of water from his flask. He was glad they had access to a nearby river where they could get fresh water and despite not controlling the city's harbour, supplies had started to come up the bay from Astapor. He had the city surrounded and the bay was now being heavily patrolled by his ships, so the surviving slavers could not escape. But Jon was being frustrated in his desire to finish his conquest by taking the last bastion of slavery here in the bay. Ghost whined as if sensing his mood and Jon smiled as he gently scratched around Ghost's ears which made his normally quiet wolf whine in pleasure. Using his other hand he carefully stoked the scales of his dragon that was now much to his amazement nearly as big as a large hound although Ghost was still bigger by slight margin. The speed at which the dragon grew amazed him but so too did its appetite as the creature now ate like a creature three times its size.

Jon was really wondering if this was a natural rate of growth for a dragon, but given how large Balerion the Black Dread had grown, legend saying his could swallow aurochs whole in one bite he should not be surprised. Although he was worried how much longer he would be able to conceal their presence, already his troops were talking in excited whispers about them, saying that the time of the dragon lords was coming again and they were talking to the men on the supply ships, who were talking to people in the ports they stopped at, who spoke to other people spreading the news further and further out. The time for hiding their true identities would soon be coming to an end Jon realised with a worried frown. He did not want his uncle to have to fight a war with the Baratheons for his sake and he certainly did not want harm to come to any members of his family in any way. They had lost so much last time they had been involved with the Targaryens, while Jon was Targaryen himself he thought of himself as a northerner and more importantly a Stark first even if he had never carried the name.

He was interrupted from his brooding when Grey Worm entered the tent and bowed slightly to Jon, something Jon was sure he was never going to get used to and said.

"My king." Another thing Jon was still unsettled by after being a bastard most of his life, being called a king. "My men have discovered a potential weakness in the walls of the city. There is a series of damaged wall stones near the harbour, it could allow my men to climb the wall and gain entrance to the city." Grey Worm with his usual serious expression that Jon thought would give his uncle a run for his money. Jon nodded and had an interesting idea for taking the city.

"Grey Worm, take as a group of your best men and hide near that point of entry you have discovered. I will stay here with the main body of our army and make as much noise as possible using our war horns and drums, use that noise as a distraction to enter the city and open the gate when I give you the signal."

Grey Worm nodded without even thinking about it and went to get a party of men ready to affect their secret entry into the city while Jon went to get the drummers and horns of his army ready to distract the guards on the city wall and draw their attention.

-x-

The army assembled for battle in a very brazen way, just as Jon planned. Not bothering to hide their getting their armour on or their weapons ready, in fact taking quite a leisurely pace and the sound of battle drums and horns sounding as loud as they could. The guards at the wall were immediately suspicious but as the hours went on, they began to relax since despite lining up for battle, Jon's army did not move.

However some time later, at the head of the army Jon in his full armour, raised the blade in the air and flashed his sword in the sun. The glint was blinding and easily visible from the walls. Grey Worm, disguised as a Meereen guard witnessed the flash and turned to the elite men that had accompanied him into the city and gave a single nod without any expression. Positioning themselves near the mechanism that opened and closed the heavy city doors before Grey Worm quickly drew his sword and cut down the unsuspecting men while his soldiers moved along the top of the wall, catching the archers stationed there completely by surprise and impaled them with either swords or spears while Grey Worm pulled the lever to open the gates.

The heavy doors slowly opened much to the alarmed surprise of the men protecting the city. Jon's army however was overjoyed as finally the city was wide open at long last. Jon on the back of his horse with Ghost running at his side, rushed forward and through the gate followed by his men. The wind rushing through his hair as he urged his horse forward gave Jon a sense of exhilaration, nearly bringing a smile to his face but Jon kept his focus on the battle ahead and remained disciplined.

The guards rushed forward to engage them, Jon leapt from his horse and with Blackfyre in hand started cutting men down with ease. He felt some pity for the slave soldiers that had been forced to defend this city by the same men that had put them in chains but he did not let that stay his hand. Ghost followed his master's lead and started tearing the heads off men as they pushed forward and the men around him did not hesitate as they attacked the city's defenders with vigour, inspired by their leader's valour at leading them himself.

Moving through the city streets as they brought their full weight of numbers to bare on the smaller number of defenders, resistance began to crumble and slaves actually started rising up to aid them in battle. As he approached the biggest slaver stronghold in the city, the huge Pyramid shaped palace in the centre of the city with the large Harpy shaped statue on top, he began to encounter greater resistance.

Figures, Jon thought darkly as he saw the best of the city's defenders had not been on the Walls but here, kept back by the so called Great Masters. The fact they had the gall to call themselves 'Great' made Jon want to scoff but he was far too disciplined for that. Still as his men and the freed slaves of this city began to press home their advantage in sheer numbers, overwhelming them as they forced entry into the pyramid. The signs of wealth around him made Jon become even angrier, the flaunting of such trappings just for the sake of showing off to visitors when it was made on the backs of others and their suffering. He struggled to control his temper and fought on through the corridors, cutting the lightly armoured slave soldiers down as they reached what he could only describe as a throne room. It was a large hall with a gilded throne shaped like a harpy at the end of it on a raised base.

Bloody from all the killing he had committed today, Jon walked forward into the room and despite his adrenaline being so high, he felt a glorious rush of elation. At last he had taken this city and had taken a big step towards ending or at least breaking the hold that slavers had on Essos. Regardless of whether or not he and his family claimed the Iron Throne, that was a greater and more worthy accomplishment in itself. Ser Jorah, himself quite bloody then entered the room looking rather pleased with himself. Jon turned to his fellow northerner and asked.

"Did any of the slavers escape Ser Jorah?"

"Not one." Ser Jorah said feeling quite proud of himself. "No ships managed to slip past our blockade and we caught the cowards as they tried to flee. I have our men taking stock of the confiscated assets as we speak. Your aunt and her party will join us as soon as the city is completely secure."

Jon felt a sense of relief. At last the first stage of the conquest of Slaver's Bay was complete…now began phase two building the area into a proper kingdom would begin.

Catelyn Stark was feeling a great sense of anticipation as she and her party rode closer to Renly Baratheon's camp. She could already see it in the distance given its enormous size, as would be expected of an army numbering over a hundred thousand strong. Somewhere in there was her daughter, Catelyn though to herself. Sansa's banishment and the argument with Ned had stunned Catelyn and near made her head spin, not to mention Arya's betrothal to a Lannister. Her world felt like it had come crashing down around her and she had needed to clear her head before she met Ned again to try and see where the two of them went from here.

They were not challenged as they entered the camp, having sent a raven ahead to expect them. The stable boys took their horses to the makeshift stables while she walked through the camp, she saw many fresh and young faces and could not help but pity them. Most had never faced battle before and had no idea of the horrors they were about to be confronted by. She checked the lead which had been fastened to the direwolf that had accompanied them, Sansa's own wolf Lady. It was a good thing that this wolf was the best behaved of the litter, Catelyn thought to herself. The journey could have taken twice as long if the wolf had been difficult but thankfully she had behaved herself. Taking a firm grip of the lead she and her guards walked through the camp with Lady trotting obediently at her side.

As she approached the centre of the camp she saw a sort of arena had been set up where a number of warriors were clashing in brutal combat while Renly in a garish outfit of black and green silk and a golden antler crown on his head looked on with an almost giddy level of excitement. At his side, his new bride Margaery Tyrell looking on without much interest while next to her sat Sansa. Seeing her eldest daughter made Catelyn's heart leap with joy before she took as close a look as she could to see how her daughter was faring with her exile and new betrothal. Her hair was now done much like Margaery Tyrell's and her dress was more daring than Catelyn was comfortable with her daughter wearing, showing her still growing cleavage and even her belly button but otherwise she looked relaxed and even happy. Standing behind her must be Loras Tyrell, Catelyn decided given how much like his sister he looked. However Catelyn's attention was drawn to the arena where now only three combatants were left standing.

-x-

In the makeshift arena Brienne of Tarth, still hiding her true identity behind her helm found herself fighting against the last two opponents in the ring at the same time. She had acquitted herself well, she thought privately with a sense of satisfaction, defeating most of the supposed knights in the Reach and Stormlands with nothing but her wits, shield and trusty mace. However now it seemed the last two men had come to the conclusion that they would rather deal with her first before fighting each other to determine the winner of this melee. The winner was likely to be chosen as the last member of King Renly's Kingsguard and Brienne was set firmly on that person being her. So she turned her attention on her last two opponents and focused herself on the Braavosi warrior who was laughing as he swung his sword almost wildly, so caught up in the moment. Seeing a strike coming towards her, Brienne stepped back and moved her mace to counter the blow only for her mace to break on contact with the sword, the shock travelling right up her arm. She was astonished at what had just happened but her instincts forced her to duck and roll to avoid another strike from the sword. As it passed only a finger's distance from her head, Brienne dropped the remains of her mace and her shield, knowing that it would be no good if that blade had shattered her mace like that and with both hands now free she dived forward and kicked hard against the warrior's knee.

There was a sickening crunch and a scream of pain, the bone broke and he began to fall to the ground but Brienne grabbed his wrist and twisted hard, forcing the Braavosi to drop the sword into Brienne's waiting hands. The crowds gasped with awe as she picked up her shield and with her borrowed sword in hand turned to face the last combatant. He was a young Reach Knight baring the white sun and chevron on orange of House Ashford and he was looking decidedly unsettled at how brutally dispatched the other warrior, leaving him with possibly permanent injuries and for a moment he looked unsure of what to do. Brienne was about to make the first move when suddenly he dropped his sword and shield and announced to the crowd.

"I concede the match, this knight is clearly my superior." Brienne was momentarily stunned at the declaration and the bow of respect to her that followed before the man picked up his sword and shield and walked out of the arena with his head held high.

The small crowd cheered, along with Catelyn's own men and Renly beamed with joy while Margaery, Sansa and Loras looked on Brienne with interest, recognising the shield of House Tarth but not knowing her identity. This was the moment that Brienne was dreading, not the combat, when she would be called on to reveal her identity and what could happen now. If King Renly took offence then it could reflect very badly on her family and might even cost them their family seat, the island that gave her house its name. His grace got up to speak and her anxiety over what might happen next and how her request might go over bubbled up fiercely inside but she held her nerve as he spoke clapping at the same time.

"Well fought, approach." He called and Brienne walked over so she was facing her king and knelt in respect. The arena was silent as they waited with anticipation to see who the mysterious warrior was. Renly then said with a wide smile. "Rise and remove your helm."

Doing her best to hide her nerves, Brienne got to her feet and removed her helm as she was bid. There was a gasp as people saw that she was a woman although she had been the butt of many jokes considering her more masculine appearance. Brienne the Beauty they would jeer and she would often have responded when she was younger by bashing their faces in until she had grown wise enough to stop. Determined not to allow the past to interfere with her future, Brienne spoke.

"I am Brienne of Tarth your grace." She said with a slight bow rather than a curtsy. Renly however while he looked somewhat surprised he stared in slight amusement and said.

"You are all your father promised and more." He said warmly causing Brienne to flush slightly although thankfully for her pride no one noticed. "You are the champion and you may ask whatever you wish of me, I will see if it is within my power to grant it."

"Your grace." Brienne said kneeling again with her arm across her chest and asked hoping he did not laugh in her face or banish her for what she was about to request of him. "I ask to serve you as part of your Kingsguard. One of your seven and I would lay down my life to protect you from harm."

That definitely ruffled a few feather, Brienne thought as she heard the mutters around the crowd. However as she focused on Renly, the man who she hoped would be her king her heart sank for a moment as his smile vanished and his face grew stern. Not angry though so she took some small comfort from that. Only for her heart to rise higher than the clouds when he said moments later with a smile returning to her face.

"Done." That caused even more murmurs to start and the Starks and Tyrells watching all looked on Brienne with surprise but also interest. Renly then continued to speak, ignoring the words being spoken around the arena. "Arise Brienne of the Kingsguard." He then started clapping and everyone however they felt followed their King's lead and clapped as Brienne got to her feet and suddenly realised she was still holding the sword she had taken from the Braavosi warrior who now being carted off to see the maester. Now she had time to study her stolen blade she realised why it had broken her mace so easily, the ripples of Valyrian steel met her eyes and the hilt was styled like a five pointed star with a large blue diamond in the centre.

Renly noticed her staring at her new sword and told her with a smile.

"Keep your new blade Brienne of Tarth and name it the Seastar. It is only fitting for a member of my Kingsguard to wield the best steel. I will find such steel for all my Kingsguard when the throne is mine, taken from my enemies when they have been beaten into the dirt." He said grandly, imagining the spoils he would take and enjoy as his own once he had won the war.

-x-

Catelyn who had been watching the spectacle unfolding before her with astonishment when she had realised that the champion of the small tourney was a woman now made her way forward to speak with her daughter as the crowd dispersed, only for the direwolf she was holding to catch Sansa's scent and pull so hard against the lead that it was yanked free of Catelyn's hand.

-x-

"I have never seen a woman as a warrior before." Sansa admitted to Margaery who smiled and told her.

"She is far better than most knights that I have seen. But the important thing is that Brienne of Tarth knew what she wanted and worked her hardest to achieve it. She is a self-made woman in a way." Margaery said with a smile, admiring Brienne's spirit. Loras snorted quietly and said to himself.

"I could have beaten her." Margaery rolled her eyes and said with a mocking drawl that made Sansa giggle.

"I am sure you could Loras."

Only then were the three of them and Renly shocked by the sudden appearance of a wolf that leapt forward and landed on top of Sansa. Margaery screamed and both Renly and Loras drew their swords only to stop when they realised that Sansa was laughing as the wolf licked her face.

"Lady, get off. I am happy to see you too girl but please let me up." Sansa said while laughing with joy, she knew her wolf immediately however much she had grown since they had last seen each other on the Kings Road. The Tyrell siblings and Renly were all near open mouthed at the size of the wolf and how it was acting more like an overly affectionate dog than a wild animal. They were simply too stunned to act or even remark at what was happening while Sansa managed to sit up with great effort and hug her wolf tightly while it whined with pleasure at having her mistress so close and rubbed her head against Sansa's.

While Sansa rested her head against the soft fur of her direwolf and wrapped her arms around her neck with pure joy at having her animal companion with her again after so long a separation, she closed her eyes and smelled her wolf's scent. It was wild and untamed, like the North itself and it was incredibly comforting to her now that she would never see the land of her birth again. It was a constant ache inside that haunted her in her waking moments and at least once a day she could see Winterfell in her mind's eye as clearly as if it were in front of her. She did not hate her father…how could she? The fault that had left her in this situation was her own and she was lucky to be marrying into the second wealthiest and powerful house in Westeros. Loras may not have been a prince as she had once dreamed she would one day marry, but he was a gallant knight, Sansa thought with relief and not prone to the sadistic torments that excited Joffrey. However he was distant and closed off to her…not wanting to spend as much time with her as she might have liked but their betrothal was still new and she hoped that with more time he would come around to the idea. However thoughts of her future husband were wiped from her mind when she opened her eyes and caught sight of her mother standing there with eyes already tearing up.

"Mother." Sansa cried out in elation at the sight of her mother that she had not seen for the better part of a year.

Catelyn meanwhile had found herself robbed of breath as she studied her eldest daughter in detail for the first time since she had left Winterfell what seemed like a lifetime ago. She was taller now and her womanly curves had become more pronounced, Catelyn was suddenly confronted with the fact that in her time away from Winterfell, Sansa had started to become a woman.

And she had not been there to even notice.

The thought made her angry and surer of her plan to get her daughter back where she belonged, in her own home. Ned she thought with some venom, would not have a choice. Catelyn then remembered whose camp this was and nearly flushed with embarrassment as she realised that the eyes of the Would-Be-King Renly Baratheon, his Queen Margaery Tyrell and her own daughter's husband to be Ser Loras Tyrell. She quickly tried to correct her inappropriate behaviour and turned to her host's.

"Your grace, I must apologise for my daughter's pet and its uncontrollable manner. I had hoped to make a slightly more dignified entrance." She said with a bow of respect. Renly smiled and said back with a laugh.

"Not at all Lady Stark, it was certainly one of the more surprising and entertaining entrances I have witnessed outside of a murmur's farce." Renly said with pride looking slightly like the fool in one of those murmur's farce's he had just mentioned in Catelyn's mind. The Tyrells however, Catelyn thought as she turned to look at the young Reach nobles, reminded her too much of the Lannisters than she wanted to admit. Physically beautiful, rich, well dressed, manipulative and ambitious. Having her daughter as the future queen of Westeros was something that was the dream of every mother, highborn or common folk but now Catelyn just wanted to bring her daughter home. Marrying a member of one of the most richest and powerful houses in the empire…a house that had a hand in building the empire in the first place was not the worst fate but Catelyn did not care, she was taking her daughter home.

"If you would not mind your grace, perhaps myself and my daughter could spend some time alone? After all it has been nearly a year since I last saw her and if she is soon to be wed to Ser Loras then I would like to give her some advice." Catelyn said, proud of herself for how well she was lying given the circumstances. Renly smiled and said quickly.

"Not at all, use your daughter's tent. I am sure that we could spare you both some time."

Catelyn bowed in respect while inside she was feeling increasingly hopeful that perhaps her plan might succeed. She smiled and walked to the tent that Sansa was using while the army was camped here with her daughter and the wolf at her side and Catelyn was relieved when she and Sansa went inside and found as pleasant as environment as one could expect from such a dwelling. There was a warm and comfortable bed with a dresser to hold her daughter's clothes and a table and chairs with a bowl of fruit.

Sansa was feeling exhilarated to see her mother, she had worried that she might never have the chance to talk to her again. She nearly launched herself at her mother much like her wolf had done to her moments before but despite her eagerness to embrace her mother…Sansa managed to restrain herself somewhat and instead calmly approached her mother and wrapped her arms around her gently. Her mother was blindingly quick to respond and took her in a fierce hug that made Sansa feel rather light headed as it made it difficult to breath while her head felt tears begin to fall from her mother's eyes, Sansa herself closed her eyes as they likewise began to water with tears of her own.

Catelyn was at last feeling near whole again, her prized daughter was at last in her arms again. Her other daughter might well be at Casterly Rock but in time, she would think of a way to bring her home too. She should never have allowed them to accompany Ned down south, she realised that now and would do everything in her power to undo that mistake. Starting she thought with determination filling her up right here and now.

"Sweetling, you have nearly become a woman since I last saw you." Catelyn said with emotion distorting her voice but not so much that she was speaking unclearly as she peered at her daughter who had nearly caught up to her height wise. "When we get back home I will make sure to teach you everything that means."

"Home?" Sansa asked suddenly shocked at what her mother was saying, the warmth of earlier seemed to vanish like smoke in the wind. Had her father changed his mind? She thought to herself confused. He had told that she could never go back or other northern lords would have her killed. She felt a glimmer of hope that maybe this was no longer the case for a moment but something made her hold back on jumping for joy, so she decided to ask just to be sure of what her mother was saying. "Has father changed his mind? Are the lords allowing me to return?"

The reaction of her mother was not what she had been hoping for, her mother seemed to freeze with anxiety for a moment at the mention of her husband but that soon vanished when as her mother said.

"Your father is not going to have a say in the matter…once you are home he will have no choice but to protect you. He loves you too much to let anything happen to you." Catelyn said with absolute certainty, Ned might be able to banish their daughter in the south but faced with Sansa in Winterfell, he would have no choice but to protect their daughter. Catelyn had been shaken by his words when she had first challenged his decision but on the way to see her eldest daughter she had come up with this plan. On the way back later she would 'visit' Casterly Rock and retrieve her youngest daughter and bring them both home and if Ned objected, she would slap him so hard that he would be left with a scar the shape of her hand on his face.

Sansa was completely stunned at what her mother was suggesting…to effectively sneak back into Winterfell and hope that her father did not immediately sent her back and would then protect her from his lords, even if it could lead to open rebellion against her family. Sansa was somewhat unsettled at the look of complete certainty in her mother's eyes, like she was totally fixated in her belief that this plan of her's would work. Sansa felt her heart begin to break as she realised what this plan of her mothers could lead to…civil war in the north as the worst potential outcome. As much as she yearned for home, her love for the family that she had nearly lost due to her own lack of foresight warred against her going along with her mother's plan. Suddenly the tent, which was quite large by most standards began to feel very constricting to Sansa who felt anxiety rising inside her, even the feel of Lady's head rubbing into her leg failed to calm her. She felt the immediate need to get some fresh air…away from her mother.

Getting to her feet quickly so her mother could not stop her and try and wear down her resistance, which Sansa admitted to herself was wavering slightly as her mother's intense gaze bore into her, Sansa made her way to the opening of the tent and said quickly without looking back as tears started flowing from her eyes.

"I need to think mother…please just let me be."

Sansa heard her mother crying out for her but Sansa with Lady at her side brought into a run, she did not know where she was running too or even who to turn too but she knew that she had to get away from her mother and think about what to do next. Looking ahead she could see Ser Loras' tent and wondered if she might talk to him. Slowing her footsteps she came to the tent's opening, hearing a strange sound that she did not recognise coming from the inside she held back from entering and instead peered through the slight gap in the fabric to see what was going on inside.

Her breath immediately left her and Sansa's already somewhat dazed mind went into a spiral…on the bed at the centre of the tent was King Renly and Ser Loras…fornicating. That was the only words Sansa could use…she did not want to think of any exact words for what Renly and Loras were doing with each other at that given moment. She knew it was lovemaking or more crudely put sex but she did not know what to think of two men doing such acts together, Septa Mordane had always told her that it was a special act between man and wife, a man and a woman in their marriage bed. How could two men do such things together? She wandered off dazed with a concerned direwolf at her side.

Back in Kings Landing, Tyrion sat in a room of the Red Keep with a pair of men from the Summer Sons at his side. His glass of wine was nearly empty so he hoped his 'guests' would not keep them waiting for much longer, he had put a great deal of thought into how to make his point to those who might challenge him…and tonight was the time he had chosen to make it. Bronn stood in the corner of the room watching the door with a completely blank face, not letting his feelings show.

The door slowly creaked open as the dark haired whore Shae entered the room, dressed in what surely must be her finest and more seduction silk dress, Tyrion thought. Probably he realised paid for with his money, still it mattered little to him what Bronn chose to waste his gold on. The sellsword in the corner admired the woman's slim curves but did not say a word.

"My lord, you summoned me." Shae said with her exotic accent, practically purring each letter, ignoring Bronn completely. She leant forward slightly, emphasizing her cleavage as she slowly made her way towards him which Tyrion personally found a turn off. He had seen such tricks from a thousand whores before and while he admitted to himself that in some other world, where his wife and children did not exist he might have cared for this woman, here and now he could see her for what she was, a whore selling herself to anyone who had the coin to pay for a taste of her wares.

"Yes my lady, I find myself in need of a woman of your…skills tonight." He said slowly, careful not to expose his intent to her. Unsurprisingly for a woman of her profession, her thoughts jumped to the carnal. "Our final guest should be along momentarily and I can assure you my lady that services rendered will tonight merit a good reward." He said smoothly, waving his hand seemingly absentmindedly to a large bag of gold on the nearby dresser. Shae's eyes widened at the size of the bag and Tyrion if he had been a more naïve or honourable man would have been sickened at the immediate greed in her eyes. However he knew the avarice that lived in men's and women's hearts all too well and nearly sighed as yet another person showed there true colours so easily with just the mere sight of gold. Thankfully however he was saved from having to see any more of this when the door to the room opened again and in hobbled Pycelle, maintaining his 'forgetful, old man act'. The sight of the old man brought a dark smile to Tyrion's face and he redirected his focus on the Archmaester, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction at what was about to happen.

"Pycelle, I hear that you have been spending much time counselling my dear sister of late since the death of her beloved husband." He said knowing full well the reality of the relationships those people had but played along with the fiction for the moment. "Her whispers in your ear must have been getting very forceful in recent days given how quick you are to follow where she leads, perhaps I should remind you of just where your loyalty should lie and what my house does to traitors…Bronn." He said now dropping the act of the false cheerfulness and warmth, replacing it with a cold and hard glare that would not have been out of place on his father's face.

Shae did not even have a chance to make a sound before Bronn with a length of rope grabbed her from behind and tightened the rope hard around her neck. She could only make a slight few gurgles as Bronn, his face calm and showed no expression as he choked the life from his lover. Pycelle looked truly shocked at the unexpected attack but when he saw the glare in Tyrion's eyes he stayed silent and Tyrion knowing he had his full attention said to him with a slight threatening edge.

"I trust that you will now remember just who you owe your loyalty to Archmaester, who pays your bills and who has the influence to cover up your…indiscretions. Whatever my sister promises is never delivered and tonight you see what I do to those who plot against me." He said as Bronn finished choking the life out of Shae and let her lifeless corpse drop to the floor, Pycelle's eyes moved over to the lifeless whore and back to Tyrion again and quickly he bowed and said quickly with fear in his eyes.

"Yes my lord…always." And the old man quickly made his exit, forgetting in his panic his act of being an old and frail man. Tyrion smiled grimly and gestured to the Summer Sons men to remove Shae's body. Bronn stared for a moment, but only until Tyrion took the large bag of gold from the dresser and handed it to him saying calmly, not even fazed at what he had orchestrated.

"Double what Cersei was going to pay you. I trust you remember that I pay better and more faithfully than my sister." He said with calm voice and Bronn took the gold and a small smile came to his face.

"She was a good lay but in the end gold is gold."