19

Chapter 19 – Shifting Alliances

Renly Baratheon's Camp, the Stormlands…

Renly was sipping his wine as he relaxed in his tent, he was content right now despite the fierce wind blowing just outside and the coming confrontation with his brother. No more of his lords had defected to Stannis and even now Lord Tarly was working on a strategy to deal with his brother's existing forces. The elephants were a concern according to Tarly although Renly scoffed at the thought they might be truly be a threat against his vast army, just like the supposed rockets of the Lannisters. He might not have his elder brother's skill in battle, Renly admitted quietly to himself but that was what men like Lord Tarly were for he thought with a slight chuckle. From the side Ser Parmen Crane was on duty tonight, keeping watch to ensure his safety. It should rightly have been Brienne of Tarth but the female knight was escorting Lady Catelyn Stark home on the orders of Margaery after some argument or some such with her daughter. Personally Renly was not bothered in the slightest but the hole in his Kingsguard would be noticeable in the coming battle and he frowned at the thought and how people might perceive it.

However as Renly turned towards the mirror to check his appearance a large shape loomed out of the night and across the floor without making a sound. Neither Renly nor Ser Crane noticed it at first, night had fallen and the candle light cast many shadows but as the shadow assassin suddenly rose from the floor both men realised that they were no longer alone in the tent but neither man had any real opportunity to react as the shadow assassin, with its face a strange mimicry of Stannis impaled Renly from behind.

"NOO!" Ser Crane yelled on impulse and charged forward with his sword in a blind rage in an attempt to avenge his king only for the shadow creature to dissolve away as if to mock him. Ser Crane with his sword still in hand was left standing there over the body and he knelt down to try and help his king but Renly had been dead before his body had hit the floor, he was still kneeling over his fallen king when Ser Loras Tyrell and a number of guards having been alerted by his yell burst into the tent and saw him kneeling over Renly's still warm corpse.

Loras was for a second paralyzed with shock at the sight of his lover's body with blood pooling on the floor but that shock was quickly replaced with the greatest burning anger as he saw Ser Crane knelt over him with his sword in hand and his mind jumped to the obvious conclusion, that Ser Crane had murdered Renly. Hatred swelled up inside him like an erupting volcano and without even thinking about as his mind was so clouded with rage, he had drawn his own sword Rosethorn and had charged straight at Ser Crane and the knight had no time to react as Loras decapitated him.

The Sovereign, the Sunset Sea…

In his cabin on the Sovereign, Hadrian was studying the Valyrian documents he had discovered in the treasury of Pyke hoping he might be able to find something that could be something else useful in their elaborate and coded script while Hedwig and Raga slept. The wind outside was howling, whipping up the seas into a rough swell but thankfully one that the Sovereign was more than strong enough to handle. The rocking of the ship however was enough to make many of the less experienced sailors on board sick to their stomach.

Hadrian fortunately was not phased in the slightest and as his eyes began to ache after staring at the words on the yellow pages for too long, he got to his feet with little difficulty and went to get a drink of water to refresh his dry throat and keep his mind clear rather than dull it with wine.

He instantly became alert as his magic began surging, sensing the approach of the shadow assassin. He summoned his magic, feeling the threat rather than seeing it just in time to twist around and grab at the smoky wrists of the creature as it lunged to impale him. Hadrian hissed as he felt the dark magic of the creature burning on contact with his skin. Welts were forming along his arms and his chest as the creature struggled to free itself from his grip, Hadrian despite the danger of the creature in front of him and the pain that was spreading across his body forced any fear and anger from his mind holding on resolutely despite the welts that were spreading across his body and channelled his magic into his hands which began to glow with a golden light. Raga bolted awake in response to the attack and snarled at the assassin and Hedwig, barked at the shadow assassin with her amber eyes glaring like laser beams. But neither could help their master as he struggled with the shadow assassin.

The creature which was attacking him did not like the golden light at all and struggled its hardest to break Hadrian's grip but despite the welts on his body spreading even further and some opening to allow blood to slowly leak from his body, Hadrian held on tight. Over his right eye a large cut formed but Hadrian starting focusing his magic forward with all his willpower, fighting against not only the dark magic of the creature but his own pain as blood soaked his clothes.

The power of his magic started moving forward up the arms of the shadow assassin which wailed in an unearthly tone and continued its violent attempts to free itself from Hadrian who despite feeling weak from summoning his magic like this and the pain from the wounds being inflicted on him held on for dear life, determined to find just who had sent this creature to kill him. The golden light spread faster and faster much to the creature's distress and Hadrian with his vision beginning to dim slightly managed to summon one last great burst of will power to drive his magic on, allowing it to consume the creature. Now with the link to its master in his grasp, Hadrian delved in with his mind magic and drove forward with the consideration of an enraged bull into the mind of the attacker.

In a cave far from Hadrian's physical body, Melisandre so confident in her success suddenly felt the presence of someone else in her mind. She had no time however to mount a defence as Hadrian tore into her memories, able only to scream as the most intense pain in her life spread across her entire body, she fell to the floor of the cave and her body shook violently as Hadrian started searching roughly through her memories, delving into the multi-coloured swirls that represented the thoughts of Melisandre, pulling on the thoughts and memories like thread to discover what they might entail and using the power of his own will to draw forth the information he was searching for.

Hadrian watched the images of her past with interest as he pulled on that thread, wanting to know more about his attacker. Already he could see from her surface thoughts that it was Stannis's pet Red Witch, which was enough to make him sneer in disgust. He dived into her memories and saw her origins; a time that seemed improbably long ago to be true when she had carried the name Melony and had been sold to the Red Temple where the priests had intended to give her to their god in the flames only for her devotion to change their minds and allow her to train as a priestess.

From there he began to pull at the memories which contained secrets, things that she and her brothers & sisters in faith held closely to their chests. He did it with little concern for her well-being, pulling hard at the information he wanted and some of the things he discovered did not surprise him, but it did disgust him. Many of the priests had no real magic, instead they stole the life force of the people they sacrificed by the red jewels they wore on their person, absorbing the energy to use in for their cursed and twisted magic. Only a hand full of their cult had actual magic such as Melisandre herself, the order had been burning anyone with real magic they could find for the last four centuries and only recently noticed the decline in the number of magical humans and started trying recruiting them instead. It was a reason they were so desperate to get into Westeros, they were hoping that they might find more magical humans to sacrifice or convert.

Children Hadrian noted as he poured through the memories, were a particular favourite of the priests, often buying children as slaves only to burn them shortly after or even just kidnapping them off the streets regardless of who they were. That left such a bitter taste in his mouth that Hadrian vowed that any Red Priest that should cross his path in the future would find themselves meeting the blade of his sword.

Her more recent memories revealed what she and her kind had done to Bella, one of the bastard children of Robert Baratheon, the images that he could see made Hadrian mentally snarl with rage and he as a punishment decided to inflict a mark on her so that she would always remember his anger. Melisandre's body convulsed as on her hands, a jagged lightning bolt seemed to be carving itself into her skin and an even larger one onto her back. The wounds did not bleed but would leave a scar that would forever remind her of his rage at her actions, the fact that he had used the same symbol that had once scarred his own face brought a small smirk to Hadrian, whose mental avatar shifted slightly with his hair becoming briefly black before turning back to the Lannister blond.

The magical backlash would also send her into a coma, one that would unfortunately not last for long but would remove her as a threat for a time. He wished he could kill her, but with his powers partly bound there was a limit to what he could do and the scarring had drained a lot of his existing reserves.

Peering deeper he was taken aback to discover that Melisandre had managed to discover the identities of Robert Baratheon's bastards. There were sixteen in all, three of which he could see were dead; Bella and a pair of twins that Cersei had assassinated years ago but Melisandre had eight of them locked up in the cells of Dragonstone to be sacrificed along the course of Stannis' campaign believing that the royal blood they inherited from Robert would enhance her power even further.

Royal Blood, Hadrian scoffed as he withdrew from her mind and started cataloguing the information he had gained. There was no such thing, some bloodlines such as his own had power but a crown did not make your blood special. It just meant that in matters of inheritance it usually went to the nearest person of the ruling bloodline like the eldest true born son, for the Targaryens Hadrian supposed blood might have power given their ties to the old Valyrian Freehold and the dragons but the Baratheons despite distant blood ties to the Targaryens had no real power in their blood, it had skipped over them. Perhaps in time it might reappear in later generations but none of Robert's children had any power in them right now.

Still as he came back to the real world and hissed at the pain of the cuts all over his body, he thought to himself that he would have to try and ensure no more of Robert's bastards fell into Melisandre's hands, no one deserved to die like that to fuel a mad woman's power that served a cold and ruthless man. Without invading Dragonstone there was little he could do about those she already had since he had few agents there; Mya Stone in the Vale was relatively safe for the moment, Gendry Waters and his infant half-sister Barra were under Lord Stark's protection and Corinne Marsten, a girl that Lady Marsten claimed was her lord husband's child but was in fact a bastard of Robert's was safe too in the Riverlands.

They were now the sole free bastard children of Robert.

Using his magic to check the cuts Hadrian was frustrated to feel the taint of dark magic in them, he swore quietly knowing that he would have to use his own magic to clean them out one by one of the corrupted magic before he could heal them. It would be painful and some of them would scar but if he did not then the evil magic would fester and become like a sickness that might well weaken him or even kill him.

Wanting to get it over with Hadrian stripped out of his clothes and threw them to the side, he would burn them later and with a weary sigh he summoned the healing blue flames to his hands and began systematically going over each small cut and burning it clean with his magic. He hissed as the sharp pain as each cut was cleaned, especially the one over his eye.

Raga wandered over and rubbed his head against Hadrian's side in an effort to comfort him while Hedwig butted her head against his too. He gave both of them a weary smile and petted them in turns with his free hand while using his other to clean his scars.

The Stormlands, Renly Baratheon's former camp…

The news of King Renly's death spread quickly through the camp and already the Stormlords were packing up to go and join the camp of Stannis Baratheon given that he was now the sole remaining legitimate Baratheon and the only surviving brother of Robert. However in a tent on the periphery of the camp, a group of Stormlanders were meeting to discuss what Ser Rolland Storm had witnessed the previous night. The shocked lords and knights present were unified in their horror at what Stannis had done to that poor girl but the worse and the part that Rolland had found perhaps the most unsettling was yet to come.

"And as she cried out she called Stannis uncle." Rolland said with a voice as devoid of emotion as he could manage but despite his best efforts he could not stop the slight tremble in his voice that as a result of his anger and sorrow for the poor girl.

"One of King Robert's bastards, burnt at the stake by her own uncle and cult of madmen, by the Old Gods or the Seven that is the most unsettling thing I have ever heard." Lord Penrose said as he took a fortifying cup of wine. He had heard that Stannis had embraced the cursed Red God cult but that he would actually burn one of his own house's blood made him realise how unbalanced Stannis must have truly become to go that far. He was very glad that Ser Rolland had turned around and come straight back to inform them of what he had seen, otherwise they could well have ended up tied to that man blindly. The thought of it was enough to make him refill his cup and take another drink and the lords around him looked like they would join him given the chance.

Kin slaying was one of the greatest social taboos in Westeros, regardless of what gods you followed. It was one of the few commonly held social standards that nearly everyone followed. Burning people to death disturbed them but what was bringing them to the point disobeying Stannis was that he was willing to burn his own family, bastards or not. King Renly's death now made them very suspicious given the timing of the burning and how cold Stannis had been towards his brother. They honestly wondered if Ser Crane had been put up to it by Stannis and the ceremonial burning was just to scare his followers, the idea was certainly scaring them.

"And now that man is our king and liege lord." Ser Guyard Morrigan said with deadly seriousness, he had thought that Renly would be a good king once his excesses were rained in but now they owed their allegiance to his more dour and dare he say it fanatical brother. Their oaths were their bond but given what they now knew, was it wise to side with the Lord of Dragonstone? He was not so sure anymore.

"We could declare neutrality, keep our distance from the man until the war is over." Ser Bonifer Hasty suggested, he would rather go home and protect his family even if it earnt him nothing rather than fight for Stannis. However Lord Bryce Caron, the trueborn brother of Rolland Storm shook his head.

"If we do that." He said feeling the same impulse to get as far away from Stannis as possible but knowing it would be futile. "Stannis would come and lay waste to our keeps, he will not tolerate any dissent. Either we fight for him or he kills us, be it in battle or in the flames." He said grimacing at the thought of dying like that.

While the men in the tent pondered over what to do in the situation they had found themselves in, Ser Rolland suddenly remembered something and quickly asked Lord Penrose.

"Is there not one of King Robert's bastard son's is at Storm's End under your son's protection? Edric Storm?" He asked worried, Lord Penrose answered without realising the importance of it.

"Yes, the boy is twelve years of age. You would think the boy the second coming of his father to hear my son speak." Lord Penrose said simply but Lord Caron immediately understood what his brother was implying.

"If he burnt one of King Robert's bastard children, why not another?" Lord Caron said feeling a genuine sense of dread for the boy's safety should Stannis get his hands on him. The other men in the tent all felt a similar unsettled anxiety at a boy that was years away from being a man being sacrificed to some hellish god from Essos. Whether they followed the Old Gods, the Seven or no gods at all, the idea of a child being burnt to death was enough to anger even their hardened minds.

"The boy must be sent somewhere safe immediately before Stannis takes Storm's End, there is no hope of holding it against him." Ser Bonifer said quickly but Lord Caron was dismissive of the idea.

"Just where can we send him? The Reach and Dorne would hand the boy over, they have no reason to help him. In fact the Reach might give the boy up to try and ingratiate themselves with Stannis. There are none in the Riverlands or the Vale that would harbour the boy and unless you want him to give him to the Lannisters the Westerlands is out of the question."

But then his half-brother had a brain wave.

"The North, Edric Storm will be safe in the North. Lord Stark was King Robert's best friend, he would shelter the boy rather than give him up to Stannis." Ser Rolland said, the men around looked up when he had started speaking and while most of them were in favour of the idea, Ser Morrigan had his doubts.

"The North is a long way from here." He said with concern. "And we would have to travel by land because any ship going north would have to sail through waters controlled by Stannis. It would be a very hard and very dangerous journey."

"I grant that it would be hard, but unless we want to witness that boy being burnt alive what other option do we have?" Ser Rolland asked with a slight desperation, he did not want to have more scenes like he had witnessed last night. "I will send a letter to Ser Courtney Penrose at Storm's End to warn him of the danger and have him smuggle the boy to meet with myself, Ser Hasty and Ser Morrigan where we will escort him north. As for Stannis, play along with him for now, until an opportunity to be free of him presents itself." Ser Rolland said with a slight ruthlessness, vowing that the Seven Kingdoms would not fall to those Red heathens.

The Red Keep, Kings Landing…

Tyrion Lannister was planning his strategy for the defence of Kings Landing when there was a soft knock at the door of his solar. He looked up from his desk, annoyed at the interruption but thinking it might be important he held his temper and said.

"Enter."

The door slowly opened and the Master of Whispers Varys entered. The soft footfalls of the large but effeminate man would easily be lost if you were not listening for them but Tyrion although he did not fully trust the man, would admit to himself alone that he was beginning to think of the man as a friend. He knew the man had motivations of his own but his help had been very useful in keeping track of not only his enemies outside the capital but also inside with emphasis on his own sister, who had been rather quiet of late due to her 'illness' and subsequent confinement. He would need to start looking for a more permanent solution to Cersei soon enough though.

"My lord, I have news both grave and uplifting to report." The soft and effeminate voice of the eunuch spy master said quietly, keeping his expression blank and clear of any sign of what he was thinking. Tyrion frowned at his words and wondered what might have happened now, straining his already hectic life even further.

"And what news have you obtained that could be both grave and uplifting at the same time. It is my experience that news can be one or the other but not both." Tyrion said with a slight sarcasm, he had no drink to steady his nerves and his nephew had been conversing deeply with his Kingsguard recently much to his concern over what mass blunder the mad boy would undoubtedly commit next.

"There are three different pieces of information my lord, one is bad but the other two are potentially in your favour." Varys said with a slight smile as he revealed more. "I am afraid that Renly Baratheon has been assassinated by a member of his own Kingsguard and the men loyal to him have defected to Stannis Baratheon. He now has the necessary men to attack the city."

That brought a grimace to Tyrion's face, he had hoped that the two Baratheons would fight each other first before either of them came to Kings Landing or at least distract each other for longer. Now that he had the army of the Stormlands, a kingdom renowned for its martial prowess Stannis could attack the city and stood a very good chance at taking it, despite the number of troops they had here. Tyrion felt fear briefly at the thought of how Stannis would fall upon this city and only the thought that the members of his family that he actually cared about were safely tucked away at Casterly Rock or in Braavos brought him any comfort. His own survival if the city fell to Stannis was almost certainly slim to none, as a Lannister and if he dared be so bold a fairly important one Stannis would kill him without a second thought. He could only hope their admittedly daring plans would hold, at least till his brother could get reinforcements to the city.

While Tyrion was lost in his thoughts, Varys took the time to study the imp. He had been unsure himself if he was the right person to hold the office of Hand of the King. Despite his eldest brother's assurances Varys had been ready to replace him if need be with someone else who could at least in his own mind do the job, but the younger son of Tywin Lannister had surprised all of them by taking to his role with the grace of a hawk in flight. Despite his drinking and lack of physical stature, he was of far greater mind than most men could dream of. How he would react to the information he himself would impart was going to be interesting at the very least.

"But my lord there are two other things of note to report." Varys said calmly, carefully noting whatever would follow. "Lord Stannis' conversion to the Red God R'hllor has left much dissention in his ranks, not least of which is the practice of burning people alive as sacrifices to the Lord of Light. House Arisye has recently lost their dowager lady to such a sacrifice, the young Lord Arisye is keen for revenge. I understand from my little birds in Crackclaw Point that he is considering an alliance with your own house my lord. Furthermore, on the eve of Lord Renly's death Stannis was witnessed burning one of his bastard nieces at the stake by a Stormlander knight and news of it has quickly spread through the camp. There are several Stormlords who are very unsettled by this event and have taken steps to remove Edric Storm from Storm's End so that his uncle cannot burn him as he did his half-sister. Both might provide an opportunity for you to exploit my lord." Varys said finishing his report.

Tyrion quietly absorbed the information and pondered for a moment, while this was not an open rebellion people who were angry or scared could often be pushed into acts that otherwise would be unthinkable. These lords were both angry and scared, something he knew he could exploit so with a plan forming in his mind he turned to Varys and asked.

"Could your little birds carry messages from me to these lords? I have a proposition that may well interest them." Tyrion said slowly, wondering if the sudden idea he had combined with his existing plans might swing the odds in his favour. If Stannis now had the men to attack Kings Landing directly, he could not wait for his brother's aid, he would need to be creative with what he had to win this battle and secure their hold on the throne.

-x-

The Throne Room, the Red Keep…

The Boy King was sitting on his throne with the same demented sneer that many found disturbing, but today it was matched with a look of excitement that usually meant someone was going to get maimed or killed for the sadistic child's enjoyment. The fact that the boy's uncle Tyrion was absent from the hall only made the rising tension and fear in the room all the more overwhelming. Everyone wanted to leave the room and potentially the city in some cases but no-one moved for fear of drawing the attention of the boy king and possibly becoming the target of today's act of sadism for the king's enjoyment.

Their only clue was a rather ominous looking stake in the centre of the hall. No one knew why the boy king had made his Kingsguard set it firmly in the hall but their worst imagines were starting to conjure images that they would rather not have in their minds.

Joffrey meanwhile was beside himself with glee over what he had cooked up for today. Something that would remind people that they should never ever cross him that he was the king and his will was never to be questioned. He knew that this would be something which would be talked about the entire empire over and fill the people with such fear that they would never think of denying him his right to do as he pleased, as his father had done before him.

His sneer only grew wider as he saw his mother enter the room. She had dressed in her best red and gold dress and with her most elaborate jewellery to announce her return to the court after her unexpected illness and was looking forward to reasserting her control over Joffrey and making sure that everyone knew that she was the queen, the one true queen of the Seven Kingdoms and all their territories abroad. The sight of her son sitting on the Iron Throne was a bittersweet image, on the one hand she was elated that her son and hers alone would rule over the empire but also the thought that he had discarded her…her the one that had given him life and his throne she thought angrily grated more than she could have ever known. Still she thought with complete certainty that would not last for long, soon he would be listening to her as he should and she would rule and be known as the greatest ruler of all time.

As Cersei walked into in the hall to take her place at Joffrey's side Joffrey turned to Ser Merlyn Trant and said in his shrill voice.

"Seize the traitor Ser Trant."

The shock in the room was nothing compared to Cersei's, she was unable to think or move for the briefest of moments as Ser Trant grabbed her arms and held them behind her back, taking the moment to grab her ass briefly. Cersei however was so focused on Joffrey that she did not even notice Ser Trant's wandering hands.

"JOFFREY WHAT ARE YOU DOING!" She screamed at him and for the quickest of moments Joffrey actually felt fear, fear of his mother. She had been the one that taught him to rule and in a very real sense he was going to betray her but he soon quelled it. He was the king and he would not allow himself to be cowed by his own mother in front of the entire court.

"You and Ser Lancel killed my father." He said simply but endowed those words with all the menace he could muster. The gasp in the room was loud and soon the muttering started as people looked on the former queen with confused and suspicious expressions. At a nod, Black Walder and Ser Gennedy Shanin dragged Ser Lancel into the room who was bloody after the trashing the Kingsguard had given him before he had confessed not only his part in the conspiracy but also that his mother had been the guiding hand in it all. "Ser Lancel has confessed the scheme he and you concocted and even though you are my mother and Ser Lancel is my cousin, you will be…punished." He said with a rush of exhilaration as he added all the menace he could onto the last word. The room was deathly quiet, making him feel like a god on the throne. Whether or not they kept their miserable lives was based entirely on his whims, the rush it gave him made him feel like a king, one that people would know and talk of for the rest of time.

"Tie Ser Lancel to the stake, pyromancer bring forth the wildfire." Joffrey said feeling anticipation boiling up inside him as his Kingsguard with bloodthirsty smiles of their own. Ser Lancel having heard the word 'wildfire' began struggling with all his might against the two knights that held him but to no avail. Cersei meanwhile was struggling to comprehend what was happening but she managed to cry out for Joffrey to stop but nothing seemed to reach Joffrey as he looked on with inhuman glee at Ser Lancel, tied to the stake was covered from head to toe in wildfire, begging for his life but it would do no good.

The ignition of the wildfire was the only part of his little performance that did not go to plan, rather than Joffrey personally setting Ser Lancel ablaze it was the sun light, which was particularly strong today that ignited the wildfire but Joffrey had no time to express his disappointment as he was entranced by the green flames that spread so fast around Ser Lancel's body that they seemed to spring from the air itself. He could nearly see the body being reduced to ash before his very eyes, the green flames were hypnotic, drawing him in. The screams of Ser Lancel were like music to his ears and he could hear every note of despair, anger and fear.

He had never felt so alive.

Cersei and the rest of the royal court were completely the opposite in their reactions to watching Ser Lancel burn. The oldest amongst them were already remembering the Mad King and starting to see that dark time coming again much to their discomfort, others were terrified that they would be accused of some crime that randomly came into the boy's addled mind and all but ran for the exits where they would flee the capital as soon as possible. Cersei herself was filled with terror of her own son, she had never imagined being found out for how she had killed Robert and now Joffrey was going to punish her for it. She had done it for him, she wanted to scream those words to him but she found herself being gagged by Black Walder and before she could even emit a muffled insult Joffrey said.

"With father dead, I feel you mother are in need of a new husband, one who has proven his ability to father children and holds a keep of great importance. So Black Walder here has arranged for you to marry his great grandfather Lord Walder Frey. I am sure that a chance like this to repair relations with the Freys is worthy of your…talents mother. And even if Lord Frey is unable to perform… husbandly duties, his sons and grandson will surely be of help." He sneered at her, Cersei's eyes widened and she struggled harder against her bonds but Black Walder continued to tie her hands.

She was in a state of complete fury, that she; the daughter of Lord Tywin Lannister, the Queen of Westeros and the most beautiful woman in the known world was going to be married off to the old weasel of the Riverlands. She wanted to scream and beat Joffrey over the head until he screamed apologies but she could do none of those things as Black Walder, grabbing her in an indecent hold now her bindings were in place put a cloth to her mouth and later the only thing she would remember was breathing in a strange repugnant smell before darkness came upon her.

When Tyrion heard later about what had occurred, he was caught between boiling up with overwhelming anger and to fall around laughing. He was furious of course that Joffrey had done something as stupid as burn cousin Lancel in front of the full court with wildfire, showing himself to be cut from the same cloth as the Mad King. It was a parallel that Tyrion really did nt need to deal with right now and he only just holding himself back from having his men put the entire guild of Alchemists to the sword because he needed them for the coming battle with Stannis.

But at the same time he could only just hold himself back from laughing like a mindless fool that Cersei was going to be married off to the Late Walder Frey.

Never had there been such a deserving couple, Tyrion thought with mirth as he put men around the Alchemist's Guild to make sure Joffrey found his access to wildfire cut off.

Winterfell, the North…

Ned was glad when the rest of the Northern lords arrived for the double wedding that was taking place here soon; Dacey Mormont to SmallJon Umber and Alys Karstark to his own son Robb. Gifts from all over the North had already begun to arrive, food for their larders, horses for their stables, skins for clothing and also steel to fill their armouries.

But the sight of the unexpected guest brought a sudden coldness to his bones that had nothing to do with the cold winds of the north and soured his previously good mood. Yara Greyjoy with the great sword Red Rain strapped to her back escorted by a party of Glover soldiers, looking around with distain at all of the castle around her and its inhabitants, Ned nearly scowled at her for that. This daughter of the most arrogant rapist and pirate 'king' on the eastern coast of Westeros had the nerve to look at the ancestral home of his family like it was a filthy pigsty.

The girl's arrogance did not ease as she approached him, her air of superiority that was as hallow as the space between her ears must be if she did not realise the position she was in here. He regarded her with distain, something that nearly all of the North held for the Iron Born and matched by the looks of everyone in the yard and said curtly.

"Lady Greyjoy, I had expected that you would have joined your uncle at the bottom of the sea after the destruction of the Iron Fleet. Since I have no wish to stay in your presence any longer than I have to, say your reasons for being in the North and be quick about less I lock you in the cells." His voice was as cold and cutting as the most freezing wind and it knocked Yara's confidence for a moment. She knew that the Greenlanders looked down on the Iron Born for raiding their coast and this man was one of the men that had humbled her father during the last rebellion but he was also known for his courtesy and calm, but he was instead treating her like a criminal he would rather see gone than be in his presence a moment longer. Rallying her courage and her own distaste for Greenlanders, she answered back, although she kept the strange story of how she had survived the battle with the Lannisters and gotten to the North to herself. Better to not sound like a liar or a madwoman she thought.

"I was able to cling to a piece of driftwood that washed up on the shores of the North Lord Stark." She said with a smug grin and looked around the yard, eager to see some sign of her brother who she had missed greatly since the Greenlanders had taken him years ago, only to be disappointed when she could not see him. "I hope that you might be willing to allow me to find my own passage back to the Iron Islands, my royal father will surely give you some recognition for your trouble. Perhaps in the meantime I could be allowed to see my younger brother wherever he is hiding?" She queried lightly, her smile easing into a more genuine one as she thought about Theon.

She had wanted to visit him many times, even going so far as to prepare her ship to sail but her father had refused her his permission, spitting that the boy was nothing to him. That had always puzzled and angered Yara, it had been her lord father's own fault that the Baratheons and the Starks had taken Theon, her little brother had not wanted to go. Her father's delusions had grown distinctly darker and wilder in the following years, there had been many times when he had punished her for an affront that she was sure could only have occurred in his mind alone.

Lord Stark meanwhile felt his expression change briefly to one of puzzlement, wondering if the girl was soft in the head before he realised a very bitter truth.

"You do not know." It was a statement rather than a question, one that made Ned feel a lot older than he had done shortly before her arrival. The puzzled expression on the girl's face only served to confirm his conclusion.

"Know what?" Yara asked now feeling confused at what the Lord of the North was going on about. Ned sighed and turned to Robb who was proving his credentials as a warrior in the training yard to the young nobles who had arrived for the wedding. Ned watched his eldest son dispatch a member of House Flint before shouting to him.

"Robb, take our guests to the great hall where they can rest their bones and have some broth to warm themselves. I will be in my solar." Robb nodded now recognising Yara Greyjoy for himself from the kraken symbol on her clothing and began to lead the assembled guests to the great hall where a broth had already been prepared. Ned meanwhile led a confused Yara to his solar where he poured the girl a stiffening drink, handing her the cup before he bid her to sit. Despite her confusion she did as she was told and Ned feeling an all too familiar weariness told the girl the truth straight, believing it was better to not shield her from the truth, however much it might hurt.

"Your brother Theon is dead, Lady Greyjoy." Ned said shocking Yara so much that the cup nearly fell from her hands. "He fell at the Battle of the Wall, with a weapon in his hands fighting the wildlings for all he was worth, killing many. He saved my son's life that day, although ultimately he himself did not survive." He said sadly, the young man had been his ward and he had a hand in training and bringing him up. Even if he was not of his own house he felt responsible. The boy should not have been there, Ned thought sadly.

Yara meanwhile was in a complete state of shock, she had just imagined when her father had declared for himself that Lord Stark had just kept Theon prisoner as a shield against the Iron Born. She had actually sneered and joked about how cowardly the northerners were to hide behind her brother while they were rising to the old glory. But the shock gave way to anger and she snapped at Lord Stark while doing her best to control the tears of grief that were forming in her eyes so she did not appear weak before him.

"Why did you not tell us? To hide behind a hostage while we raided?" Her voice was loud and accusing but Lord Stark did not rise to the bait despite his own anger at her and told her coldly.

"I informed your lord father the next day by raven of Theon's death…the lad should have been sent home and laid to rest with the rest of his family, after he saved my son he deserved that much. But you father." Lord Stark said with a glare of hatred that unsettled Yara somewhat. "Told me that he did not care what I did with your brother's body. Said that the young fool had failed 'Him' and if I was going to do anything with his body, it should be used to feed the hounds in our kennels."

Yara's face fell and her anger redirected itself towards her father, it was just like him she realised to blame his own failings on someone else even if that person had little to do with it. Blaming Theon for being taken by Robert Baratheon and his men was just pathetic in her mind but she realised, just like her father. He had never been able to see fault in himself, so full of confidence that nothing he planned could possibly fail. The growing hatred she was feeling for her father and his arrogance made her want to scream but she was far too disciplined to do that in front of a man like Lord Stark.

"What did you do with my brother's body then Lord Stark?" She asked hoping that the man might at least of treating the corpse of her last brother with more respect than her own father had suggested. He told her quietly.

"We gave him a burial at sea, it might not have been exactly as your Drowned God would have demanded but at least we could give him a semblance of what he wanted." Yara was immediately relieved at that, it might not be the full ceremony that her brother would have received back in the Iron Islands but the important act of returning the dead to the Drowned God was what mattered. She should probably, Yara realised afford them some courtesy given how much she owed them for treating her brother with such respect, not to mention they held her life in their hands. She could be gutted in a mere moment if Lord Stark gave the nod. No one would even question it given her family's history, so she pushed down any ill feeling she had and said as respectfully as she could.

"Thank you Lord Stark, I am glad to hear that you honoured my family's traditions. I am sure that my uncle Aemon will be quite happy to hear that my brother received the funeral he deserved." She had thought that her words might ease the frown on Lord Stark's face but instead he went very still for a moment and then his face grew very grim.

Lord Stark felt much more grim as he realised the young woman in front of him had no idea what had befallen her family. He had hardly believed it himself at first but when news of the near complete destruction of the Iron Fleet and the swift and brutal invasion of the Iron Islands and how it had been achieved by House Lannister, he had gained a few new grey hairs right on the spot. Such weapons he had personally not believed to be possible, yet here they were and Ned was not stupid enough to deny their existence because it did not fit in with his world view. He was deeply concerned about the North's safety should the Lannisters turn their gaze towards his homeland. Hit and run tactics rather than field battles might be useful in fighting them so they could not bring their rockets to bare but no keep would be safe. This only deepened his fear for Arya, who was so deep in the lion's den he realised it would be very hard to pull her out but the letters he had received from her had eased his mind. She appeared to be happy at Casterly Rock, the Lannisters were treating her well and from her words he could see a small degree of refinement coming into her as she grew. She was still the strong and fiery girl that Ned was so proud of but now she was getting wiser and smarter. But he realised to his own relief that with his youngest daughter betrothed to Lord Hadrian's heir, the north was unlikely to be a target. But turning his thoughts away from his own family to the young woman in front of him Ned took a slow breath and broke the bad news.

"After the destruction of your fleet by the Lannisters, which led to the death of your uncle Victorian." Ned started to explain, seeing the girl's eyes widen at the mention of her strong uncle's demise. "The Lannister fleet and the other Iron Born houses sailed to the Iron Islands and invaded the keeps of the houses that remained loyal to your father while also bringing the fight to Pyke itself." He said with the growing horror in the eyes of his audience, Ned took a quick breath before telling her the part that she would probably find the most difficult.

"Your father and remaining uncle were slain when the castle fell, all the houses that supported your father met a similar fate with their former holdings being divided up almost the rebels. House Greyjoy is no more except for you."

The silence in the room was so complete that you could have easily heard the tiniest pin drop, Yara was in a state of complete and total shock at the news. She had known that there was the possibly that the islands could be invaded after their fleet was destroyed but for them to have fallen so quickly and so completely was beyond any of the worst case scenarios she had conceived of. Yara was about to say that when she returned she would exact a vicious price on the houses that had usurped her family when she suddenly realised, returned to what? Any of the houses that might have supported her were now extinct, the smallfolk had no love for her family either. Her father had been a neglectful and uncaring lord, no one would mourn him now that he was dead. With a growing sense of doom and grief for the family that she had lost, tears began to gather at the corners of her eyes and despite all her pride and all her strength she found herself powerless to stop them from falling.

Lord Stark seeing the tears felt regret for the girl, hearing like this that not only had your house fallen but all of its members were dead would be a most terrible blow indeed. The father in him wanted to comfort the girl, but somehow knew she would not appreciate it. So he decided to at least give her some assurances.

"You will be my guest at Winterfell for the time being. For the sake of your brother I owe you that much, hopefully I shall be able to convince the Lannisters to accept your staying in the North in exchange for your life." He said calmly not knowing if Lord Hadrian would accept that but he would try anyway, keeping Yara Greyjoy in the North was a way to protect the young woman even if she could never leave.

-x-

In the training yard, Bran and Rickon were practicing their archery with the wildling woman Ygritte. When the young woman had seen their admittedly rather feeble efforts with the bow she had laughed herself silly and taken it upon herself to at least make them capable with the bow rather than they continue to make her nearly fall over laughing. The scowls on their faces and those in the castle mattered little to her, she knew how good she was and whatever they thought of her did not even register as something to be taken into account.

"Better." She said when the younger of the two brothers she was teaching managed to hit the target, her face was stern and it made both young boys a bit nervous but they brightened up when they saw their eldest brother and his betrothed Alys Karstark approach.

"Bran, Rickon it is time for your lessons with Luwin." He called out giving the two young boys a smile as they abandoned their bows and ran to learn from the maester. Ygritte suddenly felt incredibly annoyed at being interrupted while she was teaching and stalked up to Robb.

"I will not be ignored when I am trying to make those boys into men." Ygritte said angrily trying to lay down the law and her impertinence brought a small frown to both Robb and Alys's faces. Robb meanwhile had to admire the figure the wildling woman cut; her piercing blue eyes, fiery red hair and athletic figure were he had to admit intriguing and a thought provoking image, Jon would have fallen for her almost the moment they met Robb thought slightly amused. When faced with such a strong and confident woman in the past, Robb might have momentarily floundered but he hardened his resolve determined not to appear the fool in front of Alys. Already he had heard the mocking laughter at how foolish he had appeared when they had first met and while he knew it would not matter in the long run, it grated to be thought a fool. So Robb stepped forward so he was face to face with Ygritte and told her.

"Bran and Rickon will one day have castles of their own to run and lands to govern. Mastering the bow and arrow may be a useful skill but it will not help them learn to lead men and run a household. That is something they learn from our father and Grandmaester Luwin and while you remain a guest here you will honour those men with respect. Is that understood?" He asked, his gaze was firm and stronger than he had thought. Ygritte was quiet for a moment as she looked for flaws in Robb's expression and surprised them all by laughing and told him before she returned to her quarters.

"Perhaps there is hope for you yet young wolf."

Robb was taken aback for a moment as the wildling archer walked away from him before he regained his faculties and walked back to Alys who gave him a small but warm smile. He offered her his arm and she took it without hesitation and they continued their stroll and talked to get to know each other before their coming wedding.

Meereen, Essos…

Jon was sitting alone except for Ghost in the throne room of the great pyramid where he and his entourage had established themselves. He had the crown of his ancestor, Aegon the Conqueror in his hands but it felt heavier than he was prepared to admit to anyone. The weight of his family's legacy was pressing down on him and he was really wondering if he should just disappear, go back to being Jon Snow and avoiding the responsibility that was now was soon going to be his. He had never once, in his entire life desired to be a king, to wear a crown and rule a kingdom. Those dreams had belonged to other men, he had been a bastard and at best he would serve at the Wall or at the side of Robb when he became Lord of Winterfell, that had been all that was expected of him and he had been comfortably in that role. Ghost as if sensing his distress whined and butted his large head against Jon's hand who absentmindedly petted the large wolf.

But then his world had been rocked by the truth of his parentage being revealed and everything in his life had changed. Lord Stark was not his father but his uncle, his father had been Prince Rhaegar and with no other male members of House Targaryen it was up to him to reclaim the Iron Throne. Jon buried his head in his hands as an almighty headache started.

But he did not want it. Never had and he cannot imagine what he would be like as a king.

He heard the soft footsteps of his aunt Daenerys as she entered the room, he looked up while holding the crown in his hands. She looked troubled too, after all she had been a princess in hiding her entire life. Now the time had come to step into the light and reveal themselves to the world, she hesitated, all her confidence seeming to vanish into the wind, reassuring him slightly that at least he was not alone in his anxiety about the future. She came up and sat beside him and looked at the crown.

"Does it fit?" She asked him as she petted Ghost, wondering if the first crown of their family as rulers of the Seven Kingdoms was truly the right one to use for Jon. The legacy attached to it was a great burden and it was not distinctly Jon's, he was a Stark more than a Targaryen, not surprising given he had been raised in Winterfell she mused gently.

"I have not tried it yet." Jon admitted not sure if he wanted to know.

There was a silence as they both lost themselves in their own thoughts, however they were interrupted by Missandai who entered looking very concerned.

"Your graces, there is a man here that claims to be a representative of the Triachs of Volantis. He is demanding to speak to you both, he was caught trying to kidnap our people to sell back into slavery."

Their eyes narrowed at that and their tempers rose; Volantis a city that was a major force in the trading of slaves and a powerful Free City of Essos. That they had been trying to sell their people so soon was a troubling development.

"Bring him in, I will sentence him myself." Jon said calmly as his resolve hardened. He was not going to allow the vile slaver scum of Volantis to take the freedom of these people after they had only just finally been given it, regardless of how he felt about becoming a king he had a duty to these people which was driving him forward. Missandai nodded and left the room, at his side Daenerys looked furious at the news. They both got to their feet as the man was dragged into the room by two members of the Unsullied with their own inner council following. The man was middle aged and well-groomed despite the rough treatment of the Unsullied and rather fat too Jon thought with distain. The clothes he wore were fine silk and he was adorned with golden jewellery, all Jon thought with disgust bought and paid for by the sale of people like cattle.

"You were caught trying to kidnap the people of this city to sell them into slavery once more. I would have your name before I pass sentence." Jon demanded, not in the least scared of the well-dressed slaver who sneered when he looked up at him.

"You think that you are able to change the way that this land is run? Within a year you will be dead, your whore." He said looking at Daenerys who glared at him calling her a whore. "Will be serving me in the pleasure houses. The Unsullied will be sold and everything will be as it should be. Volantis will not be denied what is ours by right." He said with complete confidence, not caring that he was surrounded, however a small amount of unease appeared when Ghost started snarling at him. The people around him glared while Jon bristled but somehow controlled his temper and spoke calmly, putting a calming hand on Ghost to keep him from ripping the slaver limb from limb.

"You speak as though you have some divine right to sell others without a care, but you should care slaver as that belief will end your life…today. I will not tolerate any selling of men and women in the kingdom of Dragon's Bay." He said with his hand gripping the pommel of Blackfyre after handing the crown to Daenerys, all of his insecurities and her's too seemed to disappear and he spoke next, knowing that what he was going to do was the right thing.

"I…Jon, son of Lyanna Stark and Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and rightful heir to the throne of Westeros swear I will not let this kingdom fall to the likes of you degenerate scum." He said and the slaver's eyes widened at the names of his parents as did the other people in the room who had not known the truth. He drew Blackfyre and stepped towards the man who suddenly realised the danger he was in but before he could try in vain to take back those words Jon swung his sword and severed the man's head from his shoulders.

Jon tore off one of the dead man's tunic sleeves and used it to wipe the blood off his sword's blade before turning to Daenerys who held the crown out in front of him. Knowing he was not finished here yet and still had much to learn but it was finally time to stop running and hiding, Jon stepped forward and knelt in front of Daenerys who with a wide and genuine smile gently placed the crown upon his head.

The weight of the crown was next to nothing given it was made of light Valyrian steel but what surprised both him and Daenerys was that it fitted him perfectly, like it had been made for him alone. Daenerys feeling proud of Jon spoke the words that they had dreaded without fear.

"I Daenerys of House Targaryen, do hear by name Jon Targaryen Emperor of Westeros and all of its territories. King of the Rhoynar, the Andals and the First Men. Long may he reign."

"Long may he reign." The people in the room chanted, but at the same time they were all aware that while the newly named Dragon's Bay had been conquered the next battle would show if they could hold it.

Casterly Rock, the Westerlands…

As Hadrian with his lion and owl and his men at his side rode through the streets they were met with cheers and cries of jubilation from the smallfolk who lined the road all the way to Casterly Rock. There was singing in the streets and women dancing in celebration which brought a smile to the faces of Hadrian and his men as they rode on. The men were already peeling off to return to their own homes or enjoy some of their new coin in the brothels of the city, Hadrian was amused but not in the least surprised…boys will be boys he thought with a grin. As they left the city his vassal lords and chosen knights followed him to the proud home of the Lannisters where yet more cheers greeted them as they rode through the gates.

Servants and family both stood there to welcome them home, front and centre were Hadrian's own children who looked so relieved to see him home and safe while their grandfather Arthur and Arya who stayed close to him smiled. Dismounting his horse he walked up in his full plate and helm to his children, many had to admire the figure Hadrian cut as he walked forward to greet his children, who all ran forward to greet him with hugs as he knelt to catch them in his arms. The strong warrior in his magnificent armour, standing tall and proud but then shifting to the caring and warm father as his children forward into his open arms. It was a touching moment in the middle of the celebration before they went inside to share the feast that had been prepared for them.

Hadrian put his hands on the shoulders of his youngest sons while his daughters and Leo walked at his side with smiles beaming. He had never felt so glad to be home and was already looking forward to a chance to spend time with his children.

-x-

In the Great Hall the long tables were filled with cheering men and women who sang and drank with wild abandon. At the head table Hadrian was more subdued as he sipped his wine but allowed a smile to grace his face as he looked at his children who were themselves talking to Ser Raphael Daniels, Sandor Clegane and the rest of his chosen men who had been granted to sit at his table. The men were already getting slightly drunk and regaling any audience they could find with stories of their conquest, Hadrian nearly laughed as he heard how outlandish the tales got as the men lost themselves more in their cups, one particular example he heard was that one man had single handily killed a kraken that had been summoned by Victorian Grey with a dirk. The mere thought of the knight in question, who was incredibly fat having the stones to even try it made Hadrian laugh.

At his side Tyler and Arya were admiring the painting that Leo had made to represent the battle where the Iron Fleet had been destroyed, which the artist was proudly showing off to anyone that would look. It was an amazingly accurate image of the battle with especially good attention being paid to the finer details. Many would not have thought a painting could be made in such a short time but Leo possessed an advantage that others did not, he had magic to help him craft the images he wanted. Not only did this translate in being able to make his artwork faster but also into Leo crafting the image that was in his mind directly, allowing him to create finer details than any other artist around. From what Kevan had told him, the young man had been hard at work for the last couple of days, churning out an astonishing amount of work. One picture which Leo was particularly proud of was a painting of Hadrian wielding both Brightroar and Crimson Night to cut down Balon Greyjoy, which was accompanied by a sculpture of a majesty lion pouncing on a kraken.

Leo was basking in the attendance and praise being heaped upon him as people admired his work, Hadrian himself put a hand on the boy's shoulder and said

"Well done my son, you have made me proud."

The expression on Leo's face was one of the utmost pride that he had earned his father's praise, his siblings all smiled along with him. He listened to his sons and daughters as they told him what they had been up to since he had left, his niece and nephew joined in eagerly. Myrcella blushed when Tommen mentioned how she had given young Beth a kitten to raise her spirits. Hadrian beamed at his young niece, wondering how someone with such kindness could come from someone as selfish and greedy as Cersei. Arthur was entertaining the girls with stories of his wife, a former pirate queen that had only agreed to marry him when he had bested not only her but her two brothers in single combat. The old man had a twinkle in his eye as he told them stories of his late wife but although there was sadness to it, there was happiness too as he remembered the woman he had loved with all his heart and soul.

Hadrian smirked when Visenya whispered in his ear about Arya and Tyler's 'close encounter', glad to see his son and future daughter in law were developing real feelings for each other and relaxed for a moment as the feast carried on well into the night. There was still a war on and many battles yet to be fought but for now, Hadrian just let his people enjoy themselves.

-x-

The following morning when the castle was still either asleep or nursing a hangover from hell, Hadrian was sat in his solar with Hedwig sleeping nearby on a stand he had gotten for her, already at work while he studied the messages that had piled up on his desk. Letters of thanks and congratulations from the lords across Westeros about his triumph over the Iron Born which were quickly scanned before being binned, a letter from his brother Tyrion asking when he might be able to reinforce the capital which Hadrian put to the side so he could reply later before massaging his temples.

With Renly dead and young Jon still over in Essos the only contenders for the throne in Westeros were his own demonic nephew Joffrey and the dour, red god fanatic Stannis Baratheon. He could at any time of course remove Joffrey from the throne but he wanted to wait until he could place Jon Targaryen there to make for a smooth transition and avoid anyone thinking that they could take the throne for themselves. Stannis however would have to be dealt with swiftly and the upcoming battle for Kings Landing would provide the best opportunity, although it would take an additional week and a half to bring all of his men home from the Iron Islands.

He was thinking how many men to send when he saw a message addressed to him from Starfall in Dorne. Wondering what they could possibly be writing to him about he opened the letter and began to scan the text before frowning. It was a proposal to betroth one of his daughters to Edric Dayne, the current heir of the reigning lord. Looking through many of the other letters he saw that there were many such proposals coming from all over the place, from Last Heath to Sunspear and not just for his daughters, but for his sons, the bastards Lannisters and even one or two for Hadrian himself. He sighed as he realised why, it was the rockets. Everyone was either scared of them & wanted to create a betrothal as a shield against him turning the rockets on them or wanted the rockets for themselves. The large dowry that would be expected for the girls of his house was no doubt an added enticement and he massaged his temple as he shifted through the pile.

Edric Dayne was going to lord of a very famous and wealthy house, not to mention a very powerful one in Dorne. And his was certainly one of the more charming proposals as he read one from a rich merchant that offered Hadrian personally his eldest daughter along with the sexual favours of all of other his daughters and wife as an extra incentive.

Throwing aside that one in disgust he sorted through them to find which ones he would be willing to entertain and those that he would reject. Once he was finished he would sent messages to the houses that he was interested in building an alliance with to open negotiations. Most he thought with derision would come to nothing but a few political alliances might be useful in the future and secure the reach of his family.

Once that was done he saw the coded letters from his spymaster Alys, reporting all the goings on she and her agents had observed around the Seven Kingdoms and wider empire while he had been away. Renly Baratheon's death he already knew about of course, the Stormlords were already defecting to Stannis was not at all surprising to Hadrian, however the news that a faction had broken away and was trying to smuggle Edric Storm to the North was intriguing. Dissention in Stannis' ranks could swing the battle for Kings Landing if used right, Alys reported on his brother Tyrion's plans to exploit it and Hadrian smiled, knowing that although his brother would still need his help he had shown a tremendous amount of ability and cunning and Hadrian could not be prouder of Tyrion.

When his eyes however scanned the letter sent by Margaery Tyrell he was pleasantly astonished at her audacity and compelling arguments, although it was a letter attempting to sway him to Renly Baratheon's side, which was now redundant of course it was a very well scripted attempt none the less. He had watched the Rose from Highgarden for some time now and was glad to see his time had not been wasted.

She was beautiful, high born, intelligent, strong willed, shrewd and politically savvy, no doubt due to the training she had received from her grandmother Lady Olenna. The fact that she was a daughter of one of the most powerful houses in the Empire did not hurt either. She exactly what he and his allies had been looking for, so with a decision made Hadrian began writing a letter and called out to the owl on the dresser.

"Hedwig, when you feel up to it I have a message I need you to deliver for me."

The owl hooted and flew on to his desk, he gently rubbed her head and she preened under the attention